A Note to All Philosophers, Theologians, and People Who Write About That Kind of Stuff

Please stop trying to use quantum mechanics to back up some sort of metaphysical point. You don’t understand what Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle really is, and you have no idea what the implications of Schrödinger’s cat really are. Applying a layman’s understanding of science to philosophy is what lead to social Darwinism.

Paranoia, House, and Rogue

A few different thoughts:

First off, I’ve been feeling a little unhinged lately, and I’ve been reading a lot of Philip K. Dick on top of that, so the other night I turned my thoughts towards paranoia. What is paranoia? I posit that it is an extreme form of narcissism. It is a feeling that everyone, or most everyone, is against you. Why would they be against you? You must be special. Some knowledge, or some characteristic or mutation or difference or whatever. The paranoiac ultimately feels that they are in some way different from everyone else.. a worldview that centers on one’s self. Narcissism. Contrary to belief, narcissism is not just self-love. For examples of this, just look at any conspiracy writings. The theorist is paranoid because he believes he has some sort of knowledge no one else has.

Secondly, a little on music: I’ve been listening to a lot of house again the past few days, and it is again stirring my blood to want to actually go out and dance. I’m a withdrawn person; I don’t feel comfortable at parties or in crowds. But I feel like with the right music I would enjoy going out and dancing. And therein lies the problem.. this is something I couldn’t do alone, even if the opportunity were available. I would feel extremely uncomfortable and inhibited, even if I did have clothes that wouldn’t make me stick out like a sore thumb at a club. But maybe this is just another vain wish to be capable of being social in some way.

And finally, a completely different topic.. roguelike games. I’ve noticed a problem with the stealth skill. I’m primarily referring to Angband variants here, because that’s mainly what I’ve played, but it seems to be present in Crawl and a couple others as well. Stealth helps you avoid being noticed. But once you are noticed, it’s useless. Enemies can track you through walls and anywhere throughout the level, so long as you remain close enough to them. But shouldn’t a higher stealth skill help you escape for notice after you’ve aroused it? Shouldn’t you be able to sneak back up on the enemy, after some time has passed? I’m thinking about something like Metal Gear Solid here. I know nothing of coding, but it would be nice to see a reimplementation of stealth. Maybe it’s already been done, and I’m just not aware of the roguelike; if that’s the case, I’d like you to tell me.

Satan, Hell, and Other Thoughts

The case of Satan and Hell as it stands in Christian thought is interesting. I’m no expert on theology, but it seems to me most accept the story of Lucifer being one of God’s angels, perhaps the highest one, who was cast down to Hell after rebelling against God’s rule. I have two questions: first, why is Satan posited to be the embodiment of evil, and second, if Satan is devoted to opposing God’s will, why does he carry it out?

To explain the first: it seems to me that, beyond the dubious authenticity of the Book of Revelation, Satan is never directly responsible for evil in the Bible. He makes few appearances in the Old Testament, and none of them appear to be particularly “evil” as we might understand it. As he is shown in Job, and presuming he is in fact the serpent in Genesis, he is simply trying to contradict God’s edicts, without actually inflicting any harm. If God had not forbade the tree of knowledge, eating from it would not be wrong. It was an arbitrary law, created to test Adam and Eve’s obedience towards God. Their weakness was the evil, not any extraordinary action taken by the serpent, and there is no reason to think he controlled or hypnotized them in any way. In fact, the serpent can be seen as an instrument of God, intended on testing their devotion with a thought that would have been incomprehensible to their own minds. And, in Job, God allows Satan to inflict these harms upon Job. There is no evidence to suggest that Satan received some sort of glee in harming Job, but instead that he was again testing the devotion of God’s followers, to see if Job’s faith was based on God’s efficiency, going back to my post of the other day, rather than a sincere love of God. In the New Testament, Satan is trying to subjugate Jesus to his will – again, this seems to me more of an opposition to God than any sort of tangible evil. One might not say that opposing God’s will is evil by itself, but I don’t think that’s quite enough to draw the conclusion that Satan must be omnimalevolent, examining the religion from the point of view of an outsider rather than a true believer. I cannot recall any Biblical text wherein Satan actually violates one of God’s commandments, and, as per Job, it seems that Satan cannot directly touch the world unless God lets him.

Then comes the issue of the Christian Hell. Hell is the place mortal sinners are sent, to be punished for eternity. Judaism, of course, does not contain such damnation, so my question must be contained to Christianity. Presumably it is God who judges which souls go where. Hell is the punishment for those who do not follow his will. But Satan seems to be “in charge” of Hell. That being the case, why would Satan carry out these punishments as God wishes? Satan, as I have explained above, can be seen as the antithesis of God’s will. That being the case, it seems that the most effective way to get back at God, which is what seems to be Satan’s goal, would be to not punish sinners sent to his domain. Indeed, why not reward them? Of course, the above assumes that there is in fact some sort of physical punishment in Hell, and that the punishment isn’t simply a complete separation from God. Some of the more abstractly minded sects seem to hold that view. In that case, then perhaps Satan does try to make Hell some sort of paradise, as best he can, but the absence of God makes it unimaginable torture under any circumstances.

Another question relating to that: does Satan have free will? Satan was originally an angel, and nowhere is it said that men are not unique in their freedom of destiny. Angels do not seem to have free will. And if that’s the case, then blaming Satan for anything is ludicrous. But then, what do I know? Look at Calvinism; predestination doesn’t stop is from placing blame.

Finally, an entirely unrelated thought: what is a sport? An athletic competition doesn’t seem satisfactory, at least to those of us with pet intellectual sports. And then you have problems with things such as competitive cheerleading, which do not seem to be sports as popular conception views sports. I suggest this: that a sport is an event wherein a multiplicity of sides (teams, players, etc.) are directly and simultaneously competing against each other. This includes chess and boxing and leaves out competitive cheerleading or gymnastics. I believe the latter would be more accurately called competitive exhibitions. What the gymnast does has no bearing on what his opponent does; rather, they are competing for a “top score,” like a pinball competition or something of that sort. I’m not sure if golf would fit in under my definition; I’d like it to, and it is simultaneous, but the players are not directly competing with each other in the sense that what one does is in response to the other. Ah well, this was just a little thought I had.

Philosophy and Religion, East and West

Chinese philosophy class today. A couple of points I thought of during that:

First of all, some discussion was given regarding how one can distinguish between philosophy and religion, if there even is such a line. Some people mentioned things like the questions that are asked, the supernatural, God, etc. But for each of these a counterexample could be given. True theologians do ask strong questions, and use reason. This is what we call apologetics. And there is an entire field of philosophy that often refers to the supernatural, metaphysics, going all the way back to the Greeks. The question, then, evolves into whether there actually is a line that can be drawn that includes everything we commonly regard as philosophy in philosophy and everything we commonly regard as religion in religion. I believe there is such a line.

Mentioning the supernatural is close, but it doesn’t quite make it. I believe we can amend this by saying: religion begins and philosophy ends at the point at which the author appeals to something beyond the realm of ordinary human experience as a source of his ideas or the reasoning behind them. Philosophy, on the other hand, consists of thought processes that are explicitly natural, human intellect and reasoning and empirical experiences.

I believe that this is a satisfactory definition which requires very few adjustments of common ideas.  One problem that might be mentioned is the argument from design, but, when one thinks about it, the argument from design is, properly speaking, a philosophical idea. Of course, that’s not how most current users of this argument present it, but it is clear that fundamentalist Christians have not invented this justification for the existence of God. Philosophers have. Another example we can use is Pascal’s Wager; again, on close examination this is a philosophical bet. It makes no claim to any knowledge beyond natural experience, but instead takes a chance based on conjecture of what an afterlife might be.

One related note that would probably get me branded as a racist, or at least Eurocentric, in some circles. We watched a video on Chinese religious beliefs the first day of class, this part centering on the beliefs of the common people, and the unusual point was made that the Chinese replace their gods with others if the god in question is not efficacious enough. Contrast this with the Jewish tradition, as in the Book of Job, where readers are essentially told not to rely on God for wealth, etc. One must earn this himself, and no amount of praying or sacrificing can make God give it freely. Perhaps things like this are the reason for the not inconsiderably gap in economic acheivement between the European and Arabic civilizations on one side and the rest of the world on the other – the emphasis on a God who does not claim to be efficacious.

The Clear and Distinct Descartes

Here is a paper I wrote for my Modern Philosophy class with Dan Flage. I’m not very proud of it; it was far too rushed, and the length was tough. I could have easily written much more, so I feel like some parts of it are a little abbreviated. Still, it’s a paper, and I wrote it, so here it is. When I receive it back I’ll add in the comments by Dr. Flage, provided he gives me permission. The footnotes didn’t come out right here, but I’m too lazy to fix it. This is copyright Jason Lesowitz, 2006.

Why I Don’t Believe in God

Yes, it’s been a while. But I’m trying to make this not just a journal of where I had lunch Saturday afternoon. My time has been taken up almost entirely by a wickedness named ToME. I thought I’d say a few words about why I no longer believe in a deity of any sort, since my reasons may differ a little from a lot of others.

As someone who fancied himself an intellectual as a teenager, I’d toyed with the idea of atheism and agnosticism for a long time, along with a couple brief jaunts into Eastern philosophy. This was especially the case as I went to a private Catholic school from kindergarten to 8th grade. I was baptized as a Catholic; as one would guess from my surname, my father is Jewish. Neither my father nor my mother is particularly religious, thankfully – my dad actually wears a crucifix just because he likes the way it looks. They’re like most people, with a tacit belief in God but not caring about religious doctrines or rituals – a very sensible system, and probably the only way to make it as a normal person in the normal world. My floating religious beliefs back then could be called an inward rebellion against a parochial school, but even that may be too generous. I don’t think it’s unusual that I feel embarrassed by ways I thought years ago.

For a year or so in high school, I actually did firmly believe in God, though I didn’t practice this belief in any way. For me the cause was actually a piece of music – A Love Supreme by John Coltrane. An astoundingly lucid declaration of faith, I still can’t think of a more convincing argument for the existence of a God who would inspire the creation of such beauty. I could write an entire other essay just about that, but I’ll leave it for now.

My junior year I had a little bit of what the residual teenager in me would call an existential crisis. I had no idea what I wanted to do in college. I really don’t still, but that’s another matter. I’m a man who is prone to being very intensely infatuated with various girls; Petrarch and all that. That year there was really no object for my desires. I had no focus. Nothing seemed to matter all that much. Always bored with school, I just completely gave up. I skipped several classes, and ended up with mediocre grades for the year (some things never change). I’m sure this sounds odd to most of you, and it is something I’ve managed to outgrow a little, with the help of a particular female who shall remain nameless. You know who you are. I had built up being in love as something that could save my life and help me fulfill my potential, and that combined with a lack of social skills and a shallow heart easily swayed by a pretty face was bad news.

My senior year I finally found the ultimate object of those emotions. Her name was Jeannette. One morning I just woke up and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. In class I couldn’t help but stare at her constantly. I’d wait to leave when she did so that maybe some sort of conversation could be exchanged. I was deeply depressed on weekends and when she wasn’t in class, and I basically ignored some of my best friends and teachers, something I feel sorry for today. Sometimes I even followed her for a bit to her next class, just so I could look at her a little longer. Scary, I know – but I never would have done anything to her; she was a goddess to me, and for about a year after school ended I still thought about her constantly and cried over my memory of her. I even wrote sonnets, one of which was published in the school literary magazine with a very thinly disguised obfuscation of her name. But who reads those things, right? I finally did manage to ask her out, but I’d rather not talk about that.

Getting back to my point, Jeannette is, in a sense, the reason I no longer believe in God, or at least the catalyst for that reason. No, it’s not because I refuse to believe in a God who would make me suffer so much. This doesn’t deal with evil. It’s a case of importance.

I was really questioning life itself at this point. As long as I got to see her, I could go on living, but I knew I would never see her again after graduation. I’ve always believed that suicide is wrong, basing that on Camus’s argument. Suicide is giving up, admitting that the world is too much for you and you can’t make it good through your own ability. Suicide is weakness. This led to me thinking about God. It seemed that God was out of the question based on my situation, but I needed to develop the logic behind it. After some thinking, I managed to work a deductive argument that illustrates the reason I feel as I do. I’m a fan of logic and clarity, so here’s your proof:

1. If God exists, God must be the most important thing in the world to each and every individual.
2. Assume God exists.
3. God is still not the most important thing in the world to this individual.
4. Ergo, God does not exist.

Simple, probably a little circular, with arguable premises, but there you have it. To go point by point, I developed premise 1 by just thinking of what most conceive of God. God created the universe; he is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent, and so on. Thus each individual relies entirely on God for, well, everything – not just your physical self, but your thoughts, your emotions, your ultimate fate, etc. This being the case, should God not be always first in an individual’s mind? Try taking a baby away from his mother, and all you’ll get are tears and wails for mommy. We are like children to God; if God exists, and we believe he exists, this same inborn need for him must exist inside all of us, conscious or not.

The second premise initiates this thought experiment. For the third, as I thought this over in my mind, I realized that even if God existed, he would not be the most important thing to me. To me, everything that involved Jeannette was good, and to hell with God; I’d throw my lot in with her even if she stood directly opposed to God, no matter what punishment might await me. I eventually realized I could expand this to all the people I love, for now and for the future. I’d rather be with my friends than be with God. I don’t want God. God was not the most important thing to me even in the basest sense. When I did sincerely believe in God, I still did not care. There is apparently a part of the human psyche inspiring religious devotion that is completely absent from me. Even if I had incontrovertible evidence tomorrow that God existed, I’d still take my chances with a few people. And so on.

Therefore, God does not exist. It’s a weak argument, but it’s one that I can’t really see a surefire way out of. You could say that the first premise isn’t entirely correct; God ostensibly gives us the free will to decide these things. But I don’t find that entirely convincing; infants don’t have much of a free will, but even in them you don’t see much concern over religious matters. Free will doesn’t overcome unbreakable dependency. You could say that this is more of an emotionally based argument, only saying that I do not want God to exist, not that God doesn’t exist. Fair play, but if God does exist and we assume God exists, he should be ever present and primary in the minds of humans. He isn’t in my mind; I don’t know about yours.