Superstition

Religion and right wing politics exist to exploit and oppress large groups of people; enabling a few to control the many. They both offer easy answers. Answers that people can accept at face value without any thought. Answers that are no more than advertising slogans. It doesn't matter that the answers they give are not evidence based, or what they promise fails to materialise; there will either be an excuse, a distraction or a lie to cover up their failings, a papering over the cracks to hide their charlatanism.

Reactionaries and devotees of magic men with beards (right wing politicians and clerics to the simple) operate using the K.I.S.S. form of delivery: 'Keep it simple, stupid'. Not my phrase but one once used in business presentation circles. People like simple. Simple enables them to believe without intellect. They can relate to X being the problem and Y being the solution. They can't relate to the possibility that the solution might require measures that are complex and perhaps need to run in tandem or appear on the surface not to be directly connected. If chaos theory is correct (obviously it's a theory so it might or might not be) then existence is a multitudinal array of chain reactions going on ad infinitum.

Of course some questions/problems in life might not have a known answer/solution. This never worries the right-wing politician or man of religion. In religion if there's something wrong it's the work of a devil or the punishment of a god; little matter that there is absolutely no proof of the existence of either. In right-wing politics if there is a problem it's the fault of someone 'different' to their perceived norm; they'll blame foreigners, the sick, the infirm, the poor etc. There's always a handy scapegoat.

'Humankind cannot bear very much reality'. T. S. Eliot.

It used to be said that the Church of England was the Tory party at prayer. I'm not sure how accurate that is but in many ways they were/are similar in one respect in that they both peddle lies. Religion and reactionary politics are not based on facts; they are based on a warped faith. Faith is illogical, it is not thinking, but laziness. They are each no more than superstition.

Nothing is ever black and white. There isn't always an answer.

And now a few words from the master of right-wing propaganda* Joseph Goebbels:

'A lie told once remains a lie but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth.'

'There was no point in seeking to convert the intellectuals. For intellectuals would never be converted and would anyway always yield to the stronger, and this will always be "the man in the street." Arguments must therefore be crude, clear and forcible, and appeal to emotions and instincts, not the intellect. Truth was unimportant and entirely subordinate to tactics and psychology.'

'...the rank and file are usually much more primitive than we imagine. Propaganda must therefore always be essentially simple and repetitious.'

* These principles are still being used today.

The end of the world is nigh

For some people this week their world could end. And of course I could be one of those. And whilst you can never say never I think the likelihood of the world ending on the 21st of December 2012 is somewhat remote.

Supposedly the Mayan calendar ends on 21/12/12 according to quite a number of uninformed people. The sort of people that reckoned that the current millennium stated on 1st January 2000 and not 2001. The witch doctor weirdoes and the peddlers of mumbo jumbo jump on this sort of stuff in a feeding frenzy of mystical masturbation and metaphor mixing. The world is full of charlatans ready to pontificate on what it all means and back it up with spurious ‘evidence’ and bizarre theories.

Why are people so ready to accept superstition, conspiracy theories and new-age nonsense over scientific knowledge?

There is no evidence for most mumbo-jumbo beliefs, so why believe?

I might as well believe that the earth is a giant pizza and was created by a sky-blue-pink angel called Doris. And, I just know I wouldn’t be alone in my beliefs!

Horror-scope

“What is your star sign?” someone will ask.

Actually I’m a Gemini.

What does that mean?

It means absolutely fuck all!

I don’t believe in time. That’ll have umpteen academics ripping up Einstein, Hawking et al. When I say that what I mean is that I believe that there is only the present. The past happened, it is literally history. The future is yet to happen and is so far undetermined. The idea that the future is somehow mapped out is ludicrous.

Astrology is for the gullible. Like religion it is based purely on superstition and is yet another way to try and control people. The idea that you can tell someone’s future from their date of birth is laughable. And people fall for it. The future does not exist. This desire to know the future is connected to the human desire to give meaning to their lives; giving it the structure, order and simplicity that most people crave. I’m sorry but I can’t buy into that.

Of course proponents of astrology will say that the horoscopes in newspapers are ‘just a bit of fun’ and that they are a generalisation of what astrology is really about. I accept that, but in turn it doesn’t make ‘proper’ astrology any more valid. They will say that an astrological reading needs to be based on a person’s date of birth, including the year, and other criteria. Cobblers I say. What about environmental factors, life chances and personal decisions? Life is serendipitous. Where the planets and stars were positioned when you were born or where they are now is highly unlikely to affect your life to much of a degree above gravitational forces. Do those born on the same day live similar lives and have similar character traits? I doubt it. And if they do it isn’t going to be anything to do with their star sign. Especially if you take into account the mathematics of probability.

My birthday is on 1st June. I was at school with twins also born on the same day and in the same year as me. All three of us were different. And the two brothers were very different indeed. One was studious, focused, musical, very bright and with mousey-coloured hair. The other struggled academically, was over-enthusiastic about most things but achieved little at school, was emotional, couldn’t play a musical instrument to save his life and had black hair. Whilst I was a day-dreaming layabout arty type that was quite capable but rarely met expectations. I kind of think that we should have been so similar that you could have hardly been able to tell us apart, don’t you?

Astrology my arse.

It’s all mumbo-jumbo!

My dad loved his life!

I’ve never really understood the point of funerals. I’ve always questioned the need for them. Much to most people’s bemusement. And please don’t tell me that it is about saying goodbye because it is not as the deceased is long gone. I’ve also never understood the need to worship the dead like so many people do. By worshipping the dead I mean the very existence of a grave and the tending there of. Or, the laying of flowers at a roadside, or where people have fallen. What is that all about?

I think that it is about people being in denial. Denial that their loved one has died and denial about their own mortality. Most people can’t seem to grasp the concept that death is final. They are desperate to believe that there is more. Now I can’t prove that there isn’t more, the same way that I can’t prove that there isn’t a large blue elephant with pink spots floating around on a fluffy cumulonimbus, but given that there is no evidence for either, both would seem highly unlikely.

The trouble is that most people tend to become highly emotional around death and rational thinking goes out of the window. Questioning the necessity for a certain type of funeral or a funeral at all would seem like a pointless exercise.

We buried my father yesterday. He died on 10th March as a result of a heart attack he’d had two days before. It was a CofE funeral and a burial beside the village church. Not what I would have chosen but they were his wishes. I was asked if I would like to read a lesson. I declined but said I would be happy to say a few words. Which indeed I did. I thought I would share those words with you:

In many ways father and I were like chalk and cheese. He was a very practical man, good with his hands and could turn his hands to most things. I am a DIY numpty. He loved sport, whilst I can’t abide it. He accepted tradition and superstition and I challenge it. But, stood together there was never any doubt that we were father and son. We had the same boyish good looks. We both had the large Garrard ears or lugholes as he would have said. We shared mannerisms and both had the same laugh. In fact it is the laugh I am most grateful for, because it was from father that I inherited my wonderful sense of humour. He gave me the ability to laugh at the most ridiculous things, and to see the funny side in much of everyday life. Father could tell a good story as well. Much better than I could ever hope to. As kids we would always be laughing about something with dad. There was always laughter in our house.

Growing up he rarely called me Paul it was either boy or the slightly enigmatic Lard-head. These were terms of endearment that I happily answered to.

I have so many nice childhood memories involving dad that it’s hard to single one out. The Christmas I received a Scalextric set was one of note. I’m not sure who derived the most pleasure from it. The track took root on the dining table and we would spend hours racing against each other, both of us equally excited and enthusiastic. One big kid and one little kid. Kids in their element.

Father was never prolific in telling us off. I remember in my teenage years the first time that I came home rather the worse for drink. Rather than scold me he laughed. He knew that I was learning the hard way. He was shrewd enough to know that a life lesson has more effect on a teenager than the words of a parent. And he laughed again.

I remember father was always very keen on swimming and despite my general disinterested in sport it was something that we had done together both in my childhood and then later when three generations of the Garrards went to the pool; Dad, myself and my son.

Something else that we had in common was our love of good ale. I treasure the memories of the few beer festivals that we attended together. Both as eager as the other to try something new.

Now fast forward to January of this year. He was so happy the day he reached his eightieth birthday. To him it seemed like a major achievement. And indeed it was. A few weeks prior to his birthday he had said to me in quite an earnest but enthusiastic way “You know, I like my life. I really enjoy it”. I was well moved. Here was a man whose body had been ravaged by HD and still he was happy with his life. I think it was the most inspiring thing that he had ever said to me. I certainly won’t forget it. It is the overriding memory that I shall carry with me always. My dad loved his life!

Mumbo Jumbo

When faced with mumbo jumbo of any sort, (mumbo jumbo being the believing in angels, fairies, horoscopes, god, ufos and other assorted new age nonsense) it is always good to remind oneself of this excerpt from Monty Python and the Holy Grail:

Sir Bedevere: "...and that, my liege, is how we know the Earth to be banana shaped."

King Arthur: "This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere. Explain again how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes."

Why is it that people would rather believe cranks with farfetched theories than science-based fact?