OmegaMom

Hail thee, festival day!
Bless’d day that art hallowed forever–
Day whereon Christ arose,
Breaking the kingdom of death!

I am not religious, in any manner whatsoever.  But I have lovely memories of Easter Sundays as a child, going with my grandparents to Easter service at a high Episcopalian church with The.  Most.  Awesome.  Pipe organ.  And singing that particular hymn, which is indelibly engraved on my memory.  The pipe organ would play the deepest notes possible, making the flagstone pavement vibrate, and then…then, when the Joyous!  Triumphant!  part of the hymns was hit, the trumpets making a blaring fanfare to celebrate.  (Much to my dismay, a long, detailed article about that organ is no longer available.)

So today was Easter.  Of course, we had an Easter basket for the dotter…but we had no dotter for the Easter basket!  She spent the night at her friend A.’s house, and blew eggs and dyed them and hunted them there.  So our Easter basket sat on the table, alone and forlorn:

(Note the mini basket up front, for her doll Ling.  Credit for this entire creation goes to OmegaDad.)

While we hung around (in blissful quietude!), OmegaDad was making pita bread, tortillas, and lavosh.  Yum!  The pita bread/lavosh dough produced a lot of gas, so much so that it looked like the rising bowl was going to…well, rise itself!

Eventually the dotter decided she wanted to come home, at which point she dove into the basket:

Inside the basket was a bounty of crinkle-cut paper confetti in many spring colors, in place of the green plastic grass that ends up being eaten by pets the world around on Easter day.  OmegaDad and the dotter decided to pile it on top of my head, topped off with a whirling yellow pinwheel:

Then she and I had to dye eggs, which is always fun.  We had a polka-dotted affair:

We had a starburst:

And we had one that really, truly looked like a planet.  It wasn’t just me who thought so; I was staring at it pensively thinking how much like Jupiter it looked, when OmegaDotter saw it and gasped, “OMG!  It looks just like a planet, Mom!  Let’s make it Saturn!  Let’s paint a ring around it!”  So I did; in fact, I painted two rings:

From this angle, alas, it looks either like the X chromosome or like an elongated infinity sign (the dotter’s notion, again) or an analemma.  (Windows LiveWriter, by the way, does not recognize the word “analemma”, harrumph.)

Our array of eggs:

I hope your day was as fun and filled with confetti as ours!

Whenever I visit my mom, she sheds a few pounds of books on me, typically science fiction of the more “hard” variety.  I am, frankly, always amazed at what she collects, because I never see these books on the bookshelves in the stores I frequent.  Or at least, so it seems; this may be a case of selection bias: I may not “see” them because I’m not interested in them until my mom brings them to my attention.

She also often has some modern classic science fiction, which I resist purchasing for myself.  It’s akin to the “why would I want to join a club that would want me as a member??” attitude, but in reverse:  OmegaDad and I find ourselves actively turned off from bestsellers of any type when they’re on the bestseller lists.  An elitism of sorts, in that we think that any book that so many people like probably has Something Wrong With It.

All of this is preface to the fact that I finally read Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash because it was in the stack of books that mom handed off to me as soon as I walked in her door.

Those of you who have already read it–like, maybe, fifteen years ago when it first came out (whoa I’m on the bleeding edge here!)–don’t need to read further.

When I pulled it out of the heap, mom said to me, “You may find it amusing; I liked it.”

Har.  “Amusing”.  Har.

Snarky?  Hilarious?  Witty?  Cutting?  Frightening?  Silly?  Breathless?  Breathtaking?  Sucked in, wound around, turned upside down, and spit out laughing and thinking at the same time, maybe?

The world of Snow Crash is some indeterminate time in the future, not to far distant, where the U.S. and all other countries have splintered into a crazy mish-mosh of franchised corporate states crammed one up against the other.  The Mafia is a corporation that runs a national pizza franchise whose guarantee of 30 minute delivery time is backed up by an occasional hit on the failing delivery person.  Our Hero, Hiro Protagonist (har!), is a jaded hacker who has dropped out of hacking and programming to be a pizza delivery person and spends his free time in the Metaverse, the online virtual reality world that he helped program.  A buddy of his, another hacker, is tricked into viewing a computer virus called “Snow Crash” in the Metaverse, and in the real world he collapses into a coma, his consciousness wiped.

From there it’s a grand romp through this Brave New World and a trail of clues leading to the attempted global power grab of a corporate giant hiding behind a (long-since purchased) Evangelical Christian franchise that features people speaking in tongues.  The speaking in tongues is actually related to what Snow Crash is:  a meme from ancient Sumeria that plunges people back into a pre-conscious state where their actions are controlled by the priesthood.

There’s the aircraft carrier Enterprise which has been turned into a luxury yacht.  There’s a raft of global refugees.  There are secret trapdoors in the Metaverse.  There’s swordplay.  There’s an Inuit kayaker world-class assassin.  There are skateboarding message couriers.  There’s an ancient spell which is really a consciousness virus which also happens to have started all biological viruses…

This Sumerian thing/meme/virus really grabbed me, because it jogged my memory of a (relatively) recent theory of the beginnings of human consciousness.  So I consulted Teh Google and discovered I was oh-so-right.  Stephenson was quite happily playing with the ideas of Julian Jaynes’ The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind.  Jaynes’ theory was that human consciousness, as we know it, didn’t really develop until about 1,300 B.C., and that prior to that time humankind lived in a world of gods giving commands–which were actually auditory hallucinations produced by the right side of the brain, based on a synthesis of an individual’s experiences.  The development of consciousness was, in this theory, an evolutionary adaptation to the mental, physical, and emotional stresses encountered by humans as the population density increased and the chances of encountering a novel situation (one which would not produce a God Voice explaining it and what to do) grew exponentially.

(Wikipedia has a succinct discussion of bicameralism, and a write-up on Jaynes himself.)

Anyway, I thought the book was a hoot and quite thought-provoking, and highly recommend it to anyone who is willing to let go within the first few pages and just be swept along into a totally new world.

Yesterday afternoon, OmegaDad came to me as I was folding clothes, and said, in an urgent, worried voice, “Come upstairs and listen to this!”  I grabbed some clothes on hangers, planning to drop off the jackets in the coat closet, listen to his mystery noise, and then drop the remainder in our closet.

He was very perturbed, and almost wouldn’t let me stop at the coat closet.  “Do you hear that noise?  In the corner?  Over by the TV?”

I listened, and smiled, a world-weary, tolerant smile.  Tap.  Tap, tap, tap.  Tap.  Tap.  Tap, tap, tap, tap.  Tap.  Tap, tap, tap.

“It’s our woodpecker.” I said.

“Our what?”

“Our woodpecker.  He’s pecking the house.”

“Our what?  We don’t have woodpeckers!”

“Yes, we do.  I swear I’ve told you about it before.  We get woodpeckers who peck at the house, up by the eaves.”

“Nooo!”  He sounded astonished.

“Yes!”

So he had to go outside to look, and the dotter had to go with him, and sure enough, just like I’d said, there was the woodpecker.

Now, mind you, I’m not happy about a woodpecker pecking at our house.  We’re going to have to have the eaves inspected next summer, just to see what sort of damage the beast has been doing.  But I certainly wasn’t surprised.

What I was surprised by was the woodpecker decided to move to the other side of the house, and then move over to the birdfeeders.  And then stay there as the dotter and I oh-so-carefully opened up the kitchen door, and I oh-so-carefully aimed the camera, and I oh-so-carefully got the picture before the bird flew off due to the blinding of the flash, which I had not oh-so-carefully turned off.  Oh, well; at least I got the one good picture.  He is, I think, a hairy woodpecker; the downy woodpecker has some black spots along the outside of the tail feathers which this dude is missing.

So that’s the nice stuff.  Onto other things:

My post yesterday stirred up a bit of emotion.  The first commenter was a regular reader and commenter who was offended by my characterization of those who believe in the Rapture and in the anti-Christ as “bat-shit crazy”.

Sigh.  I have never hidden my lack of religious belief.  I have actually written posts about it in the past.  I may not say things like what I wrote in yesterday’s post except once in a blue moon (or, more accurately, once in three years and three months), but I have to admit, I think it on a regular basis.  I typically avoid discussing religion for that very reason; it is worse than politics, in my books, because some of the nicest, friendliest, smartest folks just go…daffy…as soon as religion raises its head.  Magical thinking takes over, and rational thinking flies out the window.  People who believe “other” are suddenly seen as “less than” simply because their magical over-being is different or because they don’t believe in a magical over-being at all.

I said that it was not tolerant of me.  It’s not.  The mindset baffles me.  It baffles me that groups that profess to follow a set of “loving” precepts use that belief as an excuse to hate others.  It bothers me that there are people out there that believe, since I don’t follow any religion, don’t believe in any religion, that I can’t be moral.  Or good.  Or kind, thoughtful, gentle, blah, blah, blah.  And, believe me, there are plenty of folks of religious bent who actually write columns that get published in national newspapers that say exactly that, and additionally say that the only thing that holds all of humanity back from being greedy, rapacious, murderous, thieving, vile, sociopathic, psychopathic bastards is religion.  This has been written multiple times, in multiple columns and magazine articles, from followers of different religions.  It is, to be blunt, a bunch of horse hockey and a sad commentary on people’s viewpoints of humanity in general.

I think humanity is much, much better than that.  I don’t think we need an omnipotent magical parental figure overseeing our every waking and sleeping moment to keep us moral and striving to do the right thing.

Furthermore, I feel there are plenty of existing things that hold people apart without adding belief in mythology into the stew.

If any generic reader feels that knowing this about me means you can’t read my blog any more, I certainly accept that, and wish you well. 

Remember how I asked here whether Obama is supposed to be the anti-Christ, because some folks were giving us rally-ers the devil’s horn, as opposed to the finger?

Well, apparently I’m just a sweet, innocent naif from Alaska, wide-eyed and gobsmacked, because, yes, Virginia, there are folks who think Obama is the anti-Christ and that’s why they’re not going to vote for him.

Really and truly.

I was whacked by a 2×4 alongside the head with this realization when reading a 400+ comment thread on A Little Bit Pregnant.  One commenter flat-out said she wasn’t voting for Obama because he fit all the characteristics of the anti-Christ, and another one said she was pretty sure she was voting for McCain because she was merely worried that Obama might be the anti-Christ.

Setting aside the whole question of “OMG so you really believe this stuff?!”, I find myself puzzled by this approach.

Surely, if you think Obama is the anti-Christ, then you’re likely to be a person who believes in the End Times, in the Rapture wherein all good and righteous folk will be sucked up into Heaven to sit on the right-hand side of the lord, complete with halo and harp.  And you’re likely to believe that this is preceded by the second coming of Christ, which is preceded by the rise of the anti-Christ.

So wouldn’t it be logical to, say, vote for Obama in that case?  Wouldn’t that be hastening the aforementioned series of events?  Like, almost guaranteeing it?  Sing hosanna, vote Obama, get me to the Rapture on time?

(OmegaDad, when I broached this thought to him, told me that maybe these people secretly aren’t sure they’re going to be sucked up into Heaven come the Rapture, and that’s why they don’t want to vote for him.

Hmm.  This is always possible.)

Moving on:  No doubt someone will tell me that the reason for not voting for the anti-Christ is that the rise of the anti-Christ is supposed to be a time of terrible turmoil and misery for the world, and that no-one with a kind heart would want that to happen.  But…but…I thought all of that is gonna happen anyway in that world view, no matter what you do.  One way or another, the whole row of dominoes is supposed to fall; it’s all predestined.  So surely the faster it’s done, the less turmoil and tribulation, the quicker the Rapture?

I can’t wrap my head around this stuff.  I really can’t.  Here we are, living in an amazing world filled with man-made miracles, living lives of ease due to technological advances, a world where people are taking photographs of the further ends of space and the amazing intricacies of microscopic things on our own world, where people are living longer lives through the application of science, where practically every single instant of our days is touched, in some way, by science, technology, or the rational thought process…

…and there are still people out there who (first off) really, truly believe that there is such a thing as the anti-Christ, and (secondly) really, truly believe that Obama is him.  When I come across people like this, I think to myself (and come mighty darned close to saying out loud, or typing out), “You are just bat-shit crazy.”  Whoops!  There goes any pretense to tolerance I have.  Sorry…but there it is.

It’s a Bizarro World, indeed.

Like many people, I read the news from Eldorado, Texas, with a pre-emptive fear.  I feared another Waco.  They feared another Waco, sending a horde of ambulances and fire equipment out with with police.  Thankfully, Waco II never materialized, and, as of this writing, 534 women and children have been "removed" from the compound.

As many of my readers know, I’m not religious.  I’m vaguely spiritual in a woo-esque manner.  I find organized religion to be, on the whole, suspect; in general I think that it’s yet another way for humans to exert control on one another, using their "privileged" interpretation of written texts about mysterious omniscient beings to exhort their followers to do This Thing or That Thing, and collect money at the same time.

Certainly, this particular offshoot of Mormonism (not mainstream Mormonism, by any means) has its fair share of that entire outlook on religion.  Young teenage girls are married off to older men with nary a yea or nay allowed.  Those older man–pillars of the church, all–get a bevy of lithe, untouched girls of their very own.  The younger men…well, they’re SOL.  Gotta pay their dues, work their way up through the church ranks, become one of the Chosen, before they, too, can partake of the youthful bounty.

And yet.

And yet.

"Imminent danger" says the warrant.  How many were in "imminent danger"?  For how long?  Why was it suddenly necessary to do this?

In the pictures, I see women and children who are weeping and confused.  Being ripped from their family lives, thrust into the national spotlight, children sent off to foster families, women off to (I suppose) shelters. 

"They have no concept of mainstream society, and their mothers were born into and have no concept of mainstream culture. Their grandmothers were born into it."  These are the words of one woman who left the compound with her children years ago.

What will these people do?

What will happen to these children?

How can a judge claim that all of them are in "imminent danger", when a week ago they were just living their lives and only one girl called in seeking help?

I am so torn.  I despise a culture that keeps women barefoot, pregnant, and strictly limited in their life’s choices.  I cannot condone girls being thrust into sexual relationships at the ordering of some church elder.  At the same time, I think of, say, my dotter being suddenly ripped from our household and stuck in a foster family, with absolutely no idea why, no concept of it. 

If the authorities had reason to think that specific girls or children were in "imminent danger", then those girls/children should have been removed.  Not the wholesale splitting of families that this raid has engendered.

In addition, a similar raid back in the ’50s led to the Fundamentalist Church of the Latter Day Saints withdrawing even further from the world, isolating themselves and producing a societal situation where it was "us against them".  This raid will no doubt cement that feeling within this group…making it more difficult to effect change or move in when there is obvious and substantial evidence of abuse.

That’s me.  Yup.  Because I’m an atheist.  (Well, okay, agnostic, but in many people’s minds, it’s all the same.)

Tsk, tsk.

Ah, well, at least this person didn’t pull out the usual chestnut about atheists being immoral, and how all morals are the result of religion.

I know I run the risk of running off bunches of my readers with this, but statements like the above just bother the heck out of me, and they got trotted out on a regular basis.  A writer on a group blog wrote about his lack of religion, and how he is teaching his kids that religion isn’t needed to live a moral, just life, and the very first comment that pops up says that all the atheists this person has met are “unhappy, cynical people”, and that religion is all about luuuuuuve.

And when some other atheist, agnostic, or (gasp!) liberalized Christian types said that, to them, religion reeks of justifying hatred, this same person comes on and tut-tuts, saying that this just exemplifies the ignorance about religion in the U.S. these days.

Let me just say to that:

• The Crusades
• Northern versus Southern Ireland
• Palestinians versus Jews in Israel
• Jihadists whose dream is to fly an airplane into a tower filled with unknowing businesspeople who are just living their daily lives.
• Fred Phelps and his ilk
• Kicking a city manager of 17 years out of his job because he’s going to have a sex-change operation
• Hitler (what?  You think Hitler was an atheist?  No, he was a Christian.)

Need I go on?  Ah, sure, there are plenty of atheists who have tolerated or promoted or inflicted hideous miseries upon their fellow man en masse, and I know it will be brought up to justify how good religious people are and how narsty atheists are.

My point is:  we’re all human beings.  And human beings are a wild and wooly bunch, subject to the same passions and inclinations towards unpleasantness, regardless of religious belief or lack thereof.

I personally feel that a great deal of the inequities and injustices that man has inflicted upon his fellow human being are historically justified on religious grounds.  Don’t talk to me about being “ignorant” of religion; I am merely looking at the evidence.

And when someone trots out the “Jesus says he is the way, truth, and light” as a counter-argument to someone talking about how all religions seem the same to him, what on earth can one say?  How about, “Well, Mohammed said the same thing.  So, I am sure, did Zoroaster.”  Why should I believe the one over the others?  They all seem equally improbable to me, and equally worthy, or unworthy of my respect and belief.

As I have said before, I am an agnostic, not an atheist.  I don’t know.  I don’t claim to know.  I have my own woo-wooistic set of feelings and beliefs about an inherent harmony in the universe…but I’m not going to go out and kill my fellow human beings if they don’t believe in the same Kozmik All.  And I sure as heck know that my beliefs are just that–beliefs, totally unbacked by any evidence, totally unscientific, and I have absolutely no right to tell anyone else that My Way Is The Right Way.

Grumble, grumble, grumble…

(And, to add to my grumblishness, the “B” on my keyboard is being recalcitrant and causing me no end of misery.)

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