The Fredösphere

As a counterweight to Joseph Campbell's railing against religious literalists, I give you Rene Girard, as interviewed by Peter Robinson at Uncommon Knowledge.

Regretfully, the interview is not long enough (in spite of its having five segments) to allow M. Girard to get past mere assertions, so what he says will likely change no minds. Nevertheless, the interview serves as a pointer to his books, which I hope will be argument-rich. Beyond that, it serves as an interesting artifact: here's proof of the existence in the wild of an intellectual—a French intellectual, with a real, live heavy French accent— who is neither a Communist nor a nihilist (or both). By all indications, he's to the right even of Bernard-Henri Lévy!

Girard doesn't buy the Campbellian myth that the founding stories of Christianity are mere myth (although they are that, in the anthropological sense). Girard asserts that Christianity has additional components that makes it unique among religions. And if unique, than worthy of further understanding of the what, how and why of its uniqueness. (Hint: maybe unique, because uniquely true.)

Again, I must stress Girard never gets past his assertions, so those inclined to be annoyed by such should prepare themselves before following the link. (Perhaps the only truly safe route would be to shield one's eyes with a Joseph Campbell mask.) Nevertheless, it's worth it for the thrill of hearing some old French guy's quavery voice speak the unspeakable.

By the way, I've been a regular viewer of Uncommon Knowledge for a while now. Peter Robinson is such a gentle soul, it's hard to believe he's not a sap. Yet he regularly brings in heavyweight guests. I can especially recommend interviews with Shelby Steele and Richard Epstein who give provocative and persuasive analyses of President Obama's temperment.

Labels: Culture, Mythos, Religion

You don't need to be a fan of extreme missionary stories to be moved by the BBC's account of a ceremony of repentance and reconciliation 170 years after the Rev. John Williams was killed and eaten by fearful islanders in the South Pacific.

Labels: Culture, Religion

This brief post is not about weird religions per se, although that is certainly a principal theme here at the Fredösphere. It's about a story found on Slashdot about an Australian senator denouncing Scientologists. Great fun and all, for those of a particular psychological type. (I belong to said type, and I blame my unhealthy interest in other people's kooky beliefs on the R6 Implant.)

No, I link to this story because the name of the Senator in question is Nick Xenophon. Xenophon! Isn't that just perfect? He sounds like he's a space alien who first visited this planet 75 million years ago. Xenophon! I still can't get over it.

Labels: LovableOddballs, Religion

Those of you who devote your lives to memorizing the content of this blog will remember I am a fan of the book The Seven Basic Plots.  Author Christopher Booker drew much information from the anthropologist Joseph Campbell, one of the world's top authorities on myths and a man who famously influenced George Lucas' development of the Star Wars story line.

Long have I intended to watch Joseph Campbell's PBS specials, hoping an answer to the following questions would I find:

What is the purpose of myth-making in a culture?  What is its job?
What lessons can modern fiction writers learn from the ancient myths?

Finally, I've done it.  My local library has several Campbell videos to choose from.  I began with Mythos.  It's a 3-disc series but my library owns only numbers 1 and 3.  The first disc examined the psychological foundation of myth.  Campbell is an engaging speaker, with deep knowledge and a rare knack for teaching.  I found this part of the series very stimulating, even though much of it I didn't buy, as it relied heavily on Jungian and Freudian concepts which have lost much of their scientific cachet.  (Thad, my friend the psychology professor, tells me that the use of drugs in psychiatry has not so much refuted those two giants as rendered them irrelevant.)  The third disc was less interesting to me as it simply described certain myths without the  kind of analysis I was hoping for.  Here, Campbell's bias became more obvious, which is:  all traditions are equal and equally glorious, except the European/Christian tradition which is uniquely bad.  At the point Campbell mentioned "Jesus Christ" and "the speed of light" in the same sentence (by way of refuting the Ascension as a historical fact), thereby dropping a notch in my estimation.  That's one of my rules:  never fully respect anyone who uses the words "Jesus Christ" and "the speed of light" in the same sentence.

Were my questions answered?  No, not completely.

I moved on to another, more famous PBS video:  Bill Moyers' interview of Campbell at George Lucas' Skywalker Ranch, titled Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth.  This was even less interesting.  It quickly devolved into Hindu apologetics.  That's fine if that's what you want, but maybe they could have given the video a more honest title, like maybe Joseph Campbell and the Power of Hinduism and Buddhism Which Are Religions Far Superior to Christianity With All It's Annoying Dogmas and Neurotic Fixation On Sin.

Were my questions answered?  No, not at all.

My search for enlightenment continues.  I'll give one of Campbell's books a try.  I think I'll start with The Hero With a Thousand Faces, which I believe was the starting point for George Lucas.  In the meantime, I'll have to rely on this brief summary of "the hero's journey," complete with disco cheezeball Star Wars soundtrack:



So now I'm thinking about writing a story about some warrior dude who rips the arm off a monster.  A monster who wears black and breathes noisily, and uses an ill-defined, magical "force."  And whose name is Grendel.  Or Darth Grendel.  Or. . .well, obviously this is just a work in progress.

Labels: Culture, Fiction, Religion

I interrupt the criminal neglect of my duty to my widespread blog audience (hi, Aunt Virginia!) to report on a trip to the Big House.

Michigan Stadium and I have experienced a rocky relationship, one consisting of a few hours together followed by more than 20 years of resentful separation.  My one previous visit remains a miserable memory:  packed into a row that was overfull before we squeezed into it; a complete inability to see the field, not to mention the players; enjoying only passes in a game that contained all too few (this was Bo Schembeckler's three-yards-and-a-cloud-of-dust era); and--worst of all--a growing suspicion I was in the presence of tens of thousands of fools, since attending a UM game was obviously a fool's exercise.

I'm honestly befuddled by the dramatic difference between that experience and Saturday's.  Although in the end zone, our seats gave us a perfectly fine view.  Getting into the stadium took time, especially because skybox construction interfered with some of the stadium entrances, but my expectations were so low, they were exceeded magnificently.

I would not have chosen to return to the Big House were it not for Der Drübermensch's pleading.  My fine young 10-year-old sports fanatic had been dreaming of this day ever since attending a tailgate party fund raiser for his boychoir last fall, where he found out that UM football is a very, very big deal.

Like the devout of all other religions, practitioners of UM football worship attend carefully to its rites and rituals, eschewing any deviation from tradition.  Of all details, I was most charmed by the gleaming white gloves worn by director Scott Boerma, which must have been a real sacrifice on what was a warm late summer day.  Note in the photo the band with its line of tuba bells; the student section behind them can be seen by the line of demarcation where the yellow shirt-wearing students end and the fatcat alumni in their center-field seats begin.  Note the luxury skyboxes towering above, which, even in their incomplete state, make the ancient press box look seedy by comparison.

Football is the stuff dreams are made of, and not doubt many in the crowd envy the (true) freshman quarterback who lead the defeat-weary UM team to a convincing victory.  Others might envy coach Rich Rodriguez whose name the crowd chanted.  For me, my moment of envy came late in the game when Neil Diamond's voice blasted from the speakers:

Sweet Caroline!
[ooh-ooh-ooh!]
Good times never seem so good

and 109,017 voices sang his song with him.  They'll be singing it long after the men of the gridiron are broken down old men, and forgotten.

Labels: Culture, local, Religion, Sports

I can honestly say this is one headline I never expected to read:

Hindu Monkeys Target Charlie Chaplin

The Little Tramp has been called many things down through the years (e.g. satyr, commie) but this is probably the first time he has been denounced as a Christian.

Labels: Culture, Little Tramp, Religion, Words of Power

Oh my.  The prize for Best Comment goes to "Sam" who wrote, "This is why we have blasphemy laws in the U.K."

(Hat tip to—who else?—Holy Heroes!!)

Labels: GraphicNovel, Religion

Seed Magazine thinks about the theological implications of the multiverse.  For the record, the only emphatic rejection of the multiverse I've ever encountered was from a friend of mine who is a lefty and a strong religious skeptic.  "Where is the energy coming from that creates all those new universes?" he asked, in an obvious confusion of physics and metaphysics, which is odd coming from someone who is usually precise (to a fault) in everything he says.  But then, there's so much we still don't know—and can't even imagine—about the multiverse, perhaps in the end his question will be seen as eminently sensible.

Notice that one philosopher speculates the multiverse may imply the existence of the Multichrist, a question that has come up in my speculation a lot (heck, the mere question of aliens of any kind, multiverse or no, raises the possibility of multiple incarnations) and I'm surprised I haven't seen it (or maybe I should say, Him) more often in science fiction.  This topic probably makes some Christians uncomfortable, and exposes a (usually unspoken) suspicion some may have that all speculative fiction is inherently blasphemous.  Call it the "oh, so you think you can come up with something better?" problem.  I strongly disagree with that intuition (again, it's never articulated enough to call it an argument) but nevertheless I cannot dismiss it as pernicious nonsense.

Finally, let me confess I typed "imminently sensible" in my first draft of that first paragraph.  While I was correcting it, it occurred to me that my mistake may have been inspired.  Maybe I should change it back.

Beat.  Beat.  Beat.

Naw.

Labels: Religion

No blood was spilled, but the drama is undeniable:  Alvin Plantinga and Daniel Dennett butt heads at a conference of philosophers on that whole God question.  The author begs to remain anonymous, fearing the effect on his academic career if he is outed for his religious beliefs.  Doth he protest too much?  Is his account one-sided?  Don't miss the comments for other opinions.

Labels: Culture, Religion

My message to the scientists and engineers of the Polywell Fusion experiment:   Why the heck don't you have the spatial resolution of the density to see if the cusps are quasi-neutral on the WB-7, ya lazy, worthless pack o' pinheads?*

I commend to your attention the blog Holy Heroes, wherein you will find a nice post on the sometimes queasy, always interesting topic of crucifixions in comix.  (Wile E. Coyote makes a very unexpected appearance.)  Another topic begging for expert analysis is the use (and especially misuse) of Christian symbolism in anime, which always gives me, when I see it, the thrill of the white guy enjoying cultural imperialism victimhood.

I've been terribly burdened by work lately and the irresistible Facebook vortex, but I do hope to be back to my usual semi-regular posting soon.


*Classical Values has a more appreciative, not to say coherent, reaction.

Labels: Futurism, GraphicNovel, Religion

Churchgoers who suffer a crisis of faith when the pastor is caught in sin . . . infantrymen who are fervent in the foxhole and lax on leave . . . those (the majority) who "inherit" their fundamental theological and philosophical beliefs direct and unexamined from their parents . . . I don't get them. Oh, when it comes to a failure to live according to one's beliefs in a consistent way, that I've figured out, through repeated empirical tests. Still, my fundamental theism has never suffered a sustained crisis, and is only disturbed in the briefest episodes which are always associated with sinful behavior--that is, when aligned with short-term self-interest--and is thereby self-refuting.

Which is why I'm linking to a post by Ross Douthat, who articulates better than anyone I've found the philosophical foundation of my faith. Like anything rooted in metaphysics, it is somewhat vague and definitely narrow in its implications, but it cuts deep and, so far, has proved unassailable by experience, even by a fairly severe health crisis and the erosive workings of time.

Here's the good part, which references Bertrand Russell's famous teapot analogy, beloved by those who dismiss religion as "fairy tales":

This analogy - like its modern descendant, the Flying Spaghetti Monster - makes a great deal of sense if you believe that the idea of God is an absurdity dreamed up by crafty clerics in darkest antiquity and subsequently imposed on the human mind by force and fear, and that it only survives for want of brave souls willing to note how inherently absurd the whole thing is. As you might expect, I see the genesis of religion rather differently: An intuitive belief in some sort of presiding Agent seems to be an extremely common, albeit hardly universal, feature of human nature; this intuition has intersected, historically, with an enormous amount of subjective religious experience; and this intersection (along with, yes, the force of custom and tradition) has produced and sustained the religious traditions that seem to Richard Dawkins and company like so much teapot-worship. The story of our civilization, in particular, is a story in which an extremely large circle of non-insane human beings have perceived themselves to be experiencing an interaction with a being who seems recognizable as the Judeo-Christian God (here I do feel comfortable using the term), rather than merely being taught about Him in Sunday School. I am unaware of anything similar holding true for orbiting pots or flying noodle beasts. And without the persistence of this perceived interaction (and beneath it, the intuitive belief in some kind of God), it's difficult to imagine religious belief playing anything like the role it does in human affairs, no matter how many ancient scriptures there were propping the whole thing up.

Labels: Religion

Speaking as a Lutheran, I'm thrilled by the enthusiam shown by the general population in celebrating Reformation Day. (But what's with all the costumes?)   In honor of the day, here's 95 Theses:



Here's more.

Labels: Antipope, fun, Religion, Renaissance, VideoClip

How much cooler would Goliath be if he fought David in a powered armor suit? Way cooler!

Everyone is talking about the study that concludes Evangelical Christians are less susceptible to "irrational" beliefs.  The WSJ quotes Chesterton, inevitably (and dangerously; the crazy master's thinking tended toward the dazzlingly inventive, but not logical, certainly not in any systematic way).  I would have mentioned this Chesterton quote instead:  "The first effect of not believing in God is to believe in anything."  I guess the ol' boy got one right.  Further commentary can be found at Futurismic.

Finally, one more religious link, with some music thrown in:  A Cappella News found this trailer for a Sacred Harp documentary.  It's nice to see the movement can attract people younger than 30 (not to mention 70).

Labels: GraphicNovel, OldTyme, Religion

A new angle found by SciFi Scanner, and a perfect topic for the Fredösphere:  Ancient Christian Paintings Give Evidence of Space Alien Visitation.  It sounded kooky, but then I saw the painting first cited:  The Baptism of Christ by Aert de Gelder.  I'm not sure who, but somebody's phoning home in that painting.

Meanwhile...

My son is enjoying a Boychoir retreat this week, and I was privileged to observe a special educational demonstration given to the boys by John Churchville, a local expert in classical Indian drumming.  It's amazing what just one hour of explanation can do to greatly increase one's appreciation of an art form.  Hey, here's an idea:  we could introduce music education into the public schools and effect an explosion in classical music interest among the general population!

Anyway, John's demo was info-packed and conducted with grace, even when the boys in the front row fidgeted or experienced gastric indiscretions thanks to the meal of tacos and refried beans consumed just minutes before.  Oh, and then there was the "please back up; I can feel your breath on the back of my hands" moment.

John showed us a video of his teacher, pandit (i.e., pundit, sort of like the Indian equivalent of a Ph.D.) Swapan Chaudhuri.  I found the following video which seems to be the clearest picture of the master employing the one-handed roll characteristic of his region's style of drumming.  See it for the first time at about 1' 30"; in most videos the hand moves too fast to see that he's flapping the right hand in a left-to-right movement, using the thumb and forefinger as one "drumstick" and the other three fingers as the other. 



Am I the only person who sees a bit of Harlan Ellison in Chaudhuri's face and posture?

Boychoir conductor Tom Strode mentioned the influence of Indian Music upon Olivier Messiaen.  If only Messiaen had Youtube, think of how much more he could have achieved!  Although, in that case, we may have had the Messiaenification of the following--which is too disturbing to contemplate!

Labels: Culture, Religion, Renaissance, sci-fi, VideoClip

Whoa, whoa, whoa!  I pour all kinds of creative energy into composing my music; do you really think I have any left over to design original fonts for the score???

(This is on my mind because I just sent out a score this week for a competition.  The music is a setting of an ancient Irish poem.  For the title, I used a free, Tolkieny-looking Icelandic font called Edda.  For the rest of the score, I used the Finale defaults, except for the complete text printed on the first page; the text is so long, I had to use Arial so the tiny letters could be read.  I know what you're saying:  font promiscuity!  ...but that was the best I could do without rethinking every font decision in the score, which I had no time for.  Why, why, why did you people ever get me noticing fonts?!  Cure you, Daniel Wolf!  Curse you, James Lileks! 

I am pleased, however, that M. Wolf and others like Georgia; after an exhausting review of my choices a while back, I settled on Georgia as the most - interesting - yet - commonly - available - and - without - being - too - weird choice for my outgoing email.)

Meanwhile...

What's the greatest choir on earth?  Chanticleer gets my vote.  Richard Morrison (quoted at A Cappella News) seems tempted to nominate the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir directed by Paul Hillier.  He pulls his punch, however, and for the same reason I would:  their programming lacks the brilliance of Chanticleer.  (Maybe they could compensate with better fonts.)

Finally...

The Sci-Fi Catholic demonstrates how awkward confession can be for the anime fan.  It is no easier for the hardcore MMORPGer.

Labels: Choral, Design, fun, Religion

My previous post on random album cover generators proved to be hugely successful, by my standards.  Do read the comments, which have links to other great examples of serendipitous album art.

I strongly recommend you read what Books Under the Bridge has to say about religion in science fiction.  It's a series of four blog posts, each with a long, stimulating comments section.  Read part one, part two, part three, and part four.

In the comments of part one, you'll see I grab an opportunity to flog one of my favorite religion-in-SF novels, The Mote In God's Eye, which is remarkable for the casual (and to me, believable) way religion is depicted:  always there, in the background, neither impotent nor menacing.  Also of note are the very long comments by SF author John Wright, a former atheist and current Christian (hmmm, what are the implications of that word "current"?  What will he logically turn into next--a Rosicrucian?  An anarcho-socialist post-Jesuit with a soft spot for vegetarian triumphalism?) who, oddly, is a skeptic on the question of including religion in any fiction at all, except in its extreme forms.  (Read his argument; it's more plausible than my summary makes it sound.  More plausible, and somewhat convincing, but not completely.)

Labels: Design, Religion, sci-fi

When ... Worlds ... Collide!  It was a mashup of religion, choral music, and sci-fi (sort of) when William Shatner read from the book of Exodus accompanied by orchestra and a choir of 350 singers.  A live recording of the work, written by David Itkin and performed by the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra, is due for release any time now.  No word if outtakes from rehearsals will ever make it on to the internet; I'm hoping to hear a sound engineer say to Shatner, "can there be a little more excitement during the plague of locusts?"

Labels: Choral, Religion, sci-fi

I have discovered the least masculine activity ever:  spending Memorial Day planting pansies.  Yow.

In that spirit, I'm goin' all teary-eyed over Colby Cosh's adoption of modern blogging software.  My little boy is all grown up!  Cosh also figures out we home schoolers are not all "religious creeps and misanthropes" -- although some of us are, and don't you dare deny it!  Some of us still read Jack Chick after all these years.  (J.C. is well documented at the fascinating and often exasperating 10 Zen Monkeys, which I will also mention [in a post hopelessly unable to stay on-topic] interviewed Douglas Rushkoff, author of a graphic novelization [that's a graphic novel ... ization, not a graphic ... novelization] of the Bible.  It is Rushkoff especially who earns for 10 Zen Monkeys the adjective "exasperating," but not everything he says is nonsense, although hilariously he has discovered the fundamental message of the Old Testament is how to develop a monetary system that doesn't exploit people.  Which is an amazing coincidence, because Rushkoff's pet project is promoting something he calls open source currency.  He also references Joseph Campbell's monomyth, which ties in neatly with a fascinating book I'm reading right now called The Seven Basic Plots, which is summarized nicely at Only a Game.

Oh, and guys?  The Israelites didn't build an arc, they built an ark, okay? 

Wow, it's cold in here; I must have left a parenthesis open.  Let me close it now.)

Labels: Culture, Religion

Anti-Catholic:  muh-wah???  Why, I'm on the record many times stating my belief that many good Catholics are live Catholics.  At least, I think I'm on the record.  I've certainly thought it a lot.  I think.  The irony is that, like any good post-fundamentalist, I spent my early adulthood looking long and hard at communion with Rome, before choosing Pentecostal-spiced Lutheranism served on a bed of Evangelicalism.  And anyway, what anti-Catholic jokes are we talking about?  I've made a shtick out of anti-anti-pope-bashing, but that's pro-Catholic, ain't it?

And now, having done my duty on the subject of anti-popes, I give you today's blimp content.

Back to religion:  for those as obsessed as I with the science of religious conversion, Musical Perceptions gives us a snapshot of one underway.  God bless your search, Scott -- yours and everyone's.

Finally -- When Worlds Collide:  my day job brain and my artist brain alike enjoyed this take on the hot topic of boundaries and limits as stimuli to creativity, from the point of view of a IT guy who plays Dungeons and Dragons.

Labels: Airship, Antipope, Creativity, Religion