DESKTOP

MARCH 2008 BLOG ARCHIVE

For current and ongoing blog entries: http://www.thrillfactory.com/

MARCH 27, 2008

Girl Dies After Parents Pray for Healing Instead of Seeking Medical Help

MARCH 23, 2008

Today is my daughter's second Easter. Her fascination with the coloring of eggs brings me great amusement. It occurred to me that I probably should come up with some explanation for all of this, on par with that of Santa or the Tooth Fairy and irrespective of the biblical account. So, I devised:

THE LEGEND OF BUNRAM THE RABBIT

Bunram was a rationalist rabbit who brought himself into conflict with the strictly theist majority, the Order of Gallus. The Gallusians were chickens who subscribed to the belief that by simply pondering the question of which came first -- the chicken or the egg -- one could attain perfect grace. Resolution to the question was considered impossible for any creature to attain, and the very asking of it was an affront to the Feeder.

This perfect mystery was reaffirmed, the Gallusians believed, by the existence of the Ovum, an egg that had never hatched and was believed to contain an eternally self-replenishing supply of shelled corn, soybeans, oats and alfalfa (This is now only subscribed to by the orthodox sects, whereas the 'modern' or 'reform' denomination supports the later high-fructose corn syrup creeds of the Council of Cadbury).

Bunram, by contrast, believed this approach led only to infinite regression and raised far more questions than it answered. He felt the creation question was a scientific one, and that it could be answered definitively by rationality, reason, and, of course, scientific experimentation on unfertilized eggs.

In response to this 'haresy', the Gallusians waged a campaign of persecution against the minority population of rabbits (now ethnically reclassified as Bunrammites, or simply 'bunnies'). Being faster than a tortoise was considered incontrovertible proof of haresy, and punishable by being pecked to death. Rabbits were often accused of tempting innocents to follow them down into holes, where all manner of unnatural phenomena was said to occur, and suspicion of this activity could also result in death. It soon became apparent that if a rabbit could get by with a simple pecking off of the foot ('keychaining'), they could consider themselves among the lucky.

This dark epoch achieved its zenith with the massacre of twelve newborn chicks ('The Extirpation of the Peeps'), which was blamed on Bunram. He was mercilessly pecked and made to wear flamboyant fashion accessories. Once covered in a rich layer of chocolaty excrement, he was placed in a basket (some accounts say the basket was pink, others yellow, and still others make no mention of the basket at all), wrapped in cellophane and left in a field to suffocate.

According to the legend, Bunram broke free of the trap (The 'Decampment'), stole the Ovum, and disappeared to the East. The chickens' attempts to find Bunram and their sacred egg have remained fruitless for more than two millennia. It seemed that no matter how far East they travelled in search of him, they could never be 'more East' than Bunram.

Now, we celebrate Bunram's heroic defense of logic and scientific inquiry by boiling and hiding the unfertilized eggs of the Gallusians' descendants, consuming the likeness of Bunram in excremental chocolate (the Lapin Transubstantiation) and watching 'Bugs Bunny vs Foghorn Leghorn', which ABC-TV plays every year on this day.

Happy Easter, Bunramists!

MARCH 19, 2008

It's been a fruitful couple of weeks here at the Factory. Am and I are writing a screenplay together -- the first time we've ever creatively collaborated in a meaningful way (Chelsea Tap notwithstanding). Am has been trying to unleash this particular story for more than five years, but simply lacked a drill sergeant. For my own part, its been a real knuckle-cracker, allowing me to get my writing chops back after a five year moratorium, without the added pressure of having to devise an entirely new idea from the ground up. I find it doubly rewarding because the material is evolving from Am's earlier "horror movie" version -- which I could barely connect with -- to a much more cerebral piece that actually has something of value to say. Yet another reason to love my wife.

This brings to mind a theme that's been bouncing around with me for a while, namely that of communication, more specifically the need to communicate.

At Comcast (my "day" job), I am part of a work team that meets weekly to review company developments, new policies, upcoming changes, and, to a lesser extent, openly discuss flaws and gaps in process and procedure. I am, generally, the most vocal -- and opinionated -- of the participants. I think I bring a sense of humor to the proceedings, and I make good points that typically earn the agreement of my peers. But every week, I leave feeling self-conscious about the extent to which I may have dominated the discussion. I routinely ask Yolanda, my associate, if I "gave good meeting" or simply came off as a windbag, and she positively reassures me, to her credit. But it still gnaws at me.

I think these weekly team meetings are actually filling a void in me that used to be occupied by the vibrant, free-form creative discussions I took for granted when I was still actively writing back in California. I really don't get much of a chance anymore to "hold the floor" in group discussions in my non-Comcast life.

I suppose the principal reason is that the subjects with which I can authoritatively speak -- film, sociology, religion, foreign policy, history, literature -- are anathema to the company I keep (*).

Now, I don't mean to say that the company I keep is unintelligent. Far from it. It's just that what informs the discourse just doesn't do it for me (a condition that, ironically, also extends to the Comcast customers I spend hours and hours "communicating" with every week). Add to this the fact that roughly 40 hours of my week are dedicated completely to child care time with my one-year-old daughter, and you can see how I can be bursting at the seams to say something about anything to anyone who cares.

Which reiterates how important it is to be writing again, and writing with my wife. The process has really restored an artistic dimension to our relationship that I deeply missed. And when you're dying to communicate, the potential of communicating with a wide audience is overwhelmingly attractive. How did I get through five years without this? I must have been out of my mind.

I other bits of business, I'll have a new Duran mp3 up tomorrow so hang in there.

* - The Jaffins, as always, the notable exception.

MARCH 12, 2008

"Neil" asks:

Is atheism a religion? It certainly seems like those who don't believe have a lot of the same dogmatic insistence as the religious.

Great question, "Neil".

No, atheism does not require faith or belief, and so cannot, technically, be classified as a religion. In fact, many atheists are reluctant to even use the descriptive "Atheist" because it suggests a unifying principle that, by default, cannot exist. For instance, what do we call someone who doesn't believe in astrology or alchemy?

I will admit, the criticism that we atheists are arrogant because of our "certainty" is quite ironic, since the folks who often level that charge are, themselves, "certain" of things which they can't possibly be certain of -- all the while wearing the mask of pious humility.

MARCH 6, 2008

Hi, all. I get so many questions from both religious folks and borderline atheists (both at work, in public and on the web) that I couldn't resist adding a new "Ask an Atheist" feature, spotlighted to the right of this blog. Depending on the question, I will answer either with my own views, or cite the views of some of the great contemporary rationalist thinkers, or a combination of both. Where possible, I will present responses in video or audio format, just to make it dynamic. Your name will be confidential, unless you specify otherwise. Can you stump us? Bring it on.

I've also popped up a new Duran Duran mp3, Save a Prayer from a London benefit concert in 1987.!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------