Saturday post this week?
Yep.
Eleventh-hour guest posts appreciated.
Lucy
Yep.
Eleventh-hour guest posts appreciated.
Lucy
Friday 29 March 2013
Saturday 16 March 2013
Faith Vs. Science
Fortnight:
- New Pope
- Horsemeat FINALLY falls out of the news.
- The Tories open their mouths
- Inquiries into various hospitals occur
- I get my results back.
So, in the light of the Pope being elected, I decided to turn to religion for this fortnight. Makes a change from my reasonably middle-of-the-road posts.
Even then, this is still very middle-of-the-road, as far as I'm concerned. That's just how I roll.
Recently (also known as the last three months or so), I read an article on the BBC, about the "first atheist church". Apparently, it involved an informal meeting of a collection of atheists, and in it, there was "a power-point presentation from a particle physicist, Dr Harry Cliff, who explains the origins of antimatter theory."
It wasn't completely science-centric, but it had science in it. I'm not going to bash the "atheist church". If they want to congregate and create an organised religion out of having no religion, then go for it. As long as they're having fun.
But the science presentation is something I may bash, oh-so-slightly. It's not the presentation itself I have an issue with, but the idea that surrounds it.
There's some kind of myth going around, and I find this especially with both militant Christians and militant atheists, that you're either a man of "science" or a man of "faith". You either call out scientists on bullshit or are one, so to speak. This came to a head, not to long ago, with my incredibly specific example, as follows. A reasonably well-known atheist died, and on twitter there were some few tweets by other reasonably well-known atheists talking about something along the lines of "we cannot let faith override us and let us seek sanctuary in science".
Maybe when On Origins of Species was released, this was most likely true*. It was most likely* a case of "you're either science or faith". But we've moved on from that, and there are times when science and faith can mingle. Scientists can be Christians and Christians can be scientists. Case in point: I met a couple of priests a few years back, and I got the chance to question them. They both took the line that it wasn't a case of "faith or science", and they gave me a few examples that lead to the Bible proving evolution. Agnostic me naturally took this a little dubiously, but that wasn't the point.
The point is that it doesn't have to be a split. Atheists can't just be all about science, science, science. The two priests I met had kept themselves open to alternative ideas, and were more interesting people for it. Why can't some atheists do the same?
*I'm not guaranteeing anything I haven't googled.
- New Pope
- Horsemeat FINALLY falls out of the news.
- The Tories open their mouths
- Inquiries into various hospitals occur
- I get my results back.
So, in the light of the Pope being elected, I decided to turn to religion for this fortnight. Makes a change from my reasonably middle-of-the-road posts.
Even then, this is still very middle-of-the-road, as far as I'm concerned. That's just how I roll.
Recently (also known as the last three months or so), I read an article on the BBC, about the "first atheist church". Apparently, it involved an informal meeting of a collection of atheists, and in it, there was "a power-point presentation from a particle physicist, Dr Harry Cliff, who explains the origins of antimatter theory."
It wasn't completely science-centric, but it had science in it. I'm not going to bash the "atheist church". If they want to congregate and create an organised religion out of having no religion, then go for it. As long as they're having fun.
But the science presentation is something I may bash, oh-so-slightly. It's not the presentation itself I have an issue with, but the idea that surrounds it.
There's some kind of myth going around, and I find this especially with both militant Christians and militant atheists, that you're either a man of "science" or a man of "faith". You either call out scientists on bullshit or are one, so to speak. This came to a head, not to long ago, with my incredibly specific example, as follows. A reasonably well-known atheist died, and on twitter there were some few tweets by other reasonably well-known atheists talking about something along the lines of "we cannot let faith override us and let us seek sanctuary in science".
Maybe when On Origins of Species was released, this was most likely true*. It was most likely* a case of "you're either science or faith". But we've moved on from that, and there are times when science and faith can mingle. Scientists can be Christians and Christians can be scientists. Case in point: I met a couple of priests a few years back, and I got the chance to question them. They both took the line that it wasn't a case of "faith or science", and they gave me a few examples that lead to the Bible proving evolution. Agnostic me naturally took this a little dubiously, but that wasn't the point.
The point is that it doesn't have to be a split. Atheists can't just be all about science, science, science. The two priests I met had kept themselves open to alternative ideas, and were more interesting people for it. Why can't some atheists do the same?
*I'm not guaranteeing anything I haven't googled.
Saturday 2 March 2013
Picking Up On Themes
Newsreels:
- Much more coverage than is really necessary of Oscar Pistorius
- Catholic church keeps resigning
- Daniel Day-Lewis is awesome and of course anybody who watched Lincoln knows this
- Horsemeat takes over the world
- Egyptian balloon crash
- I break a finger by doing absolutely nothing
- I cried like a baby at Cloud Atlas
"Check out Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell"
I asked, about a year ago, a question relating to a book I'm writing. This was an answer to the question.
The book in question has more or less taken over my life, as my fortnightly round-up evidences. When I saw Cloud Atlas last Saturday, I spent most of the credits sat in my seat, sobbing. But when the guy who had sat in front of me saw the exact same film as me, he spent most of the credits walking out of the cinema, shortly after saying "Don't know what that was all about".
To put it simply, he didn't pick up on the main themes of the novel/film, which were about the way we are all connected. He would have probably had an easier time had he instead watched An Inspector Calls, which has the incredibly easy to interpret* speech from the Inspector, which goes as follows:
"But just remember this. One Eva Smith has gone - but there are millions and millions and millions of Eva Smiths and John Smiths still left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering and chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives, and what we think and say and do. We don't live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when, if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish. Good night."
Naturally, he didn't talk in bold, although that would be awesome. The play itself is a message about being responsible for one another, and the way in which we are connected. That theme is relatively obvious, but what might be less obvious is the way in which this is an anti-capitalism play, and each of the characters either represent one of the Seven Deadly Sins or an ill of society (and in most cases - both).
I define a truly excellent novel as one with themes. One that presents you with a story, and gives you so much more underneath it. And more often than not, the enjoyment of a novel (As I discovered when reading Never Let You Go by Kazuo Ishiguro) hangs on the understanding of not just what's happening, but what the author is trying to tell you through the medium of themes, carefully laid in the novel.
Sometimes, it's not about was has been said, but what hasn't.
*Although that's coming from me, and I'm doing AIC in an English Literature course
- Much more coverage than is really necessary of Oscar Pistorius
- Catholic church keeps resigning
- Daniel Day-Lewis is awesome and of course anybody who watched Lincoln knows this
- Horsemeat takes over the world
- Egyptian balloon crash
- I break a finger by doing absolutely nothing
- I cried like a baby at Cloud Atlas
"Check out Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell"
I asked, about a year ago, a question relating to a book I'm writing. This was an answer to the question.
The book in question has more or less taken over my life, as my fortnightly round-up evidences. When I saw Cloud Atlas last Saturday, I spent most of the credits sat in my seat, sobbing. But when the guy who had sat in front of me saw the exact same film as me, he spent most of the credits walking out of the cinema, shortly after saying "Don't know what that was all about".
To put it simply, he didn't pick up on the main themes of the novel/film, which were about the way we are all connected. He would have probably had an easier time had he instead watched An Inspector Calls, which has the incredibly easy to interpret* speech from the Inspector, which goes as follows:
"But just remember this. One Eva Smith has gone - but there are millions and millions and millions of Eva Smiths and John Smiths still left with us, with their lives, their hopes and fears, their suffering and chance of happiness, all intertwined with our lives, and what we think and say and do. We don't live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when, if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish. Good night."
Naturally, he didn't talk in bold, although that would be awesome. The play itself is a message about being responsible for one another, and the way in which we are connected. That theme is relatively obvious, but what might be less obvious is the way in which this is an anti-capitalism play, and each of the characters either represent one of the Seven Deadly Sins or an ill of society (and in most cases - both).
I define a truly excellent novel as one with themes. One that presents you with a story, and gives you so much more underneath it. And more often than not, the enjoyment of a novel (As I discovered when reading Never Let You Go by Kazuo Ishiguro) hangs on the understanding of not just what's happening, but what the author is trying to tell you through the medium of themes, carefully laid in the novel.
Sometimes, it's not about was has been said, but what hasn't.
*Although that's coming from me, and I'm doing AIC in an English Literature course
Friday 1 March 2013
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