Friday, February 29, 2008

Put away your wood...

The other day, I was in class going over a reading guide on plant parts that I had the students fill out the previous night. I will freely admit that it wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but the little children need to learn how to read and glean information from the pages of books eventually, so I figure that high school isn't too late to try and teach them that skill.

I was moving through the questions, asking random kids to give their answers to said questions, when I heard a strange sound.

Shhht. Shhht. Shhht.

I'm a little confused and I think, what the hell is that? It is a sound I have heard before, but never in my classroom, so I am having a tough time placing it. I continue asking questions while the sound goes on in the background.

Shhht. Shhht. Shhht.

I am glancing around the room now, trying to pinpoint the cause of the noise. I have gotten fairly good at multitasking in the classroom, so I am still asking questions and interacting with the students while searching for this sound that is getting more and more irritating.

"Billy, what did you get for #5?" I ask a student. As he is responding, I notice something in the second row, about 5 feet from where I am standing. I hear the noise again, and sure enough, I have found the source.

"Hey! Frank! What are you doing?" I ask the student who is behind the sound.

Frank glances up at me, clearly baffled. "What," he asks.

"The wood and sandpaper under your desk. What are you doing?"

He lies. "Nothing."

"Are you working on your wood shop project in my class?" I ask, having a hard time believing that these words are coming out of my mouth.

"Ummmm....." says Frank, eloquently.

"I can't believe this. I can honestly say that you are the first person to ever attempt to do a little woodworking during a lecture." He grins. "Text messaging I can understand - it is quiet and normally unobtrusive - but this is ridiculous."

By now the class is laughing because even they can't believe this dude decided that this would be a good place to put the finishing touches on a bench.

"It isn't even as though you are working on a breadboard or something. Look at that thing...it could be the top of an coffee table!" By now even I am laughing. "Ok, Frank. To save yourself, tell me what part of the plant gave you that lovely piece of wood that you were so diligently working with."

Thankfully he was able to give the correct answer. "The stem?"

"Very good. Now put away your wood and lets get back to the reading guide."

Unfortunately, this last sentence can be taken in a number of ways, and needless to say the class of 32 freshmen found it hilarious.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Possible conversation topics for a date while I was in Junior High and High School

1. Is "Thriller", by Michael Jackson, the greatest song EVER, or simply the greatest song since the invention of music?

2. Does that book we have to read in English class suck, or what?

3. Where do you wanna go to eat?

4. And just who the hell does she think she is, assigning us that book over Spring Break? I mean...man she's a bitch!

5. I don't know. Where do you want to go to eat?

6. When rolling the cuffs of your jeans, what is the proper technique to use in order to attain maximum tightness such that the cuffs won't come undone during the day?

7. I don't know. Where do YOU want to go to eat?

8. Can one use "The Humpty Dance", by Digital Underground, as a metaphor for the struggle between the haves and the have-nots that is inherent in a capitalist society, or is it simply a song about "grabbin' biscuits"?

9. What, exactly, is a "biscuit"? Is it the butt? Boobs? Wang? What did the artist intend for us to grab?

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

It is a conclusion, not a belief...

Sorry to have to do this once again, but I must commandeer the blog so I can rant a bit.

I just read a piece by Alister McGrath entitled "The Twilight of Atheism", and I have to say that I was underwhelmed by the whole thing. It is basically several pages of a discussion of why atheism is declining as a way of looking at the world and why this is potentially a good thing. The problems with this article are many in number, but they all stem from what I believe to be McGrath's misunderstanding of the atheist position and the reasons for atheism. The misunderstanding goes something like this: atheism is a belief which requires as much faith as belief in God, and therefore it must operate in a manner similar to other belief systems.

The problem with this understanding of atheism/agnosticism is atheism is not a belief system, but rather a conclusion. People who are atheists don't believe that there is no God. Rather, in their minds they have examined the evidence for such a being and found it lacking. There are many proofs of the existence of a supreme being, but for an atheist none of them hold muster. For example, the cosmological argument states that the Earth and the universe had to come from something (a prime mover, or first cause), and that something is God. But then the question becomes, where did God come from? If the universe is so complicated to have needed a builder, then surely the one who built the universe must be equally complex. So who built God? Theologians attempt to answer this question by stating that God has always existed or that God is outside of the Universe and space/time. If God could have always existed, then why not the universe? And a God outside of space/time sounds like little more than defining God to fit the problem.

There are many other so-callled proofs of the existence of a supreme being, but they all fall flat when one considers them to their logical conclusions. The only one that makes sense, and indeed is one that I could get behind, is the proof of God from personal experience. People experience God in their everyday lives and as such they are convinced of His existence. This works well for them, and I can accept that they have had a personal experience which is different from what I have had. I can't discount this because for these people it is obviously true. If everyone had personal experiences with God or gods or the supreme being of their choice and left everyone else to their own experiences, things would be fine. But this is not the case. Evangelicals often state that it is this personal relationship with Jesus that brings them joy and strength, but unfortunately it doesn't remain a personal relationship - it becomes a public one in which anyone who doesn't accept Jesus is wrong and doomed to hell. So the argument from personal experience can fall flat if used to try and show that one religion is right and the others are wrong. If your personal experience was good enough for you as a Christian, why wasn't the experience of a Muslim, or a Jew, or a Hindu, or a Taoist, etc. good enough for them? If you are willing to accept personal experience as a proof for God, you must also be willing to accept that others have different personal experiences and that they are all equally valid.

But I digress.

Back to McGrath and the fall of atheism. He goes on in the article to discuss how atheistic communities do not thrive as well as those based on religion.
Christian churches have long been the centers of community life in the
West. People want to belong, not just believe.

The growth of community churches has helped meet this need. There is a
sense of belonging to a common group, of shared common values, and of knowing
each other. People don't just go to community churches; they see themselves as
belonging there. At a time when American society appears to be fragmenting, the
community churches offer cohesion.

I can't argue there. Churches do a wonderful job of bringing together people under the common banner of belief. However, here is where his assumption about atheism being a belief gets in the way. Since it is not a belief, atheism doesn't have a core set of ideas and doesn't serve well as a common ground for disparate groups of people. Get 100 atheists in a room together and there is a chance that none of them will have anything in common with one another outside their atheism. Sure, little groups of soccer fans, Harry Potter fans, computer gamers, science geeks, etc will form, but the core of those groups will be something other than their atheism. McGrath is right, this is a problem, but it is not a major one in that most atheists already know this and wouldn't expect to be able to find a community atheist group.

I would suggest that the concept of belief centered community groups could, in fact, be a bad thing for society. Consider the pentacostal church down the street from me that proudly displays a sign that says "Biblical Truth is not Politically Correct!" This sign frightens me every time I see it because if you have read the bible and take it literally, there are some scary (and downright evil) "biblical truths" in there. Like the "truth" that homosexuals will burn in hell, or the "truth" that the earth was created in 6 days. People in this community keep hearing the same messages all the time from other members of the community and as a result, we have an entire group of homophobic creationists on our hands.

McGrath then goes on to discuss the institution of atheism:

Atheist thinkers are more than happy to appear on the nation's chat shows to
promote their latest books. But they have failed to communicate a compelling
vision of atheism that is capable of drawing and holding large numbers of
people.


and

The failure of atheism to capture the public imagination in the West reflects
its failure to articulate a compelling, imaginative vision of a godless future
that is capable of exciting people and making them want to gather together to
celebrate and proclaim it.

Again, the confusion of what atheism is and is not. If Atheism were a belief system or a religion or a political movement, we might expect that atheists would be clamoring to capture the imagination. Since it is none of those things (at least not at its core) there is no need to articulate a compelling, imaginative future with no god any more than there is a need to articulate a compelling, imaginative, future in which natural selection played a part in the evolution of organisms. To an atheist, they are the same thing - both evolution and atheism are conclusions based on evidence. They can strive to explain the reasoning behind the conclusion, but there is no reason to recruit people to a particular conclusion. What writers like Dawkins, Dennett, Harris, etc., do is try and explain why atheists have reached a particular conclusion, not necessarily drum up support for an exciting new way of living.

Among the strangest of the arguments McGrath puts forth as to why atheism is in trouble is through a quotation of John Updike. In reference to whether atheisms has a future, he says:

No doubt it does—but not an especially distinguished or exciting future. Listen
to John Updike: "Among the repulsions of atheism for me has been its drastic
uninterestingness as an intellectual position." I have to confess that I now
share his catatonic sense of utter tedium when I reread some of the atheist
works I once found fascinating as a teenager. They now seem simplistic, failing
to engage with the complexities of human experience, and seriously out of tune
with our postmodern culture.

Having been part of the creation/evolution debate for many years, I find this to be more than a little amusing. I am not sure I would say that atheism possesses a "drastic uninterestingness as an intellectual position". It is far from uninteresting. What causes a star to explode? How did the process of photosynthesis evolve? Why do giraffes have long necks? Why are we here? Ask most of the religious people in this country and the answer to all of the above questions is "God", or "god did it". End of intellectual interestingness. Talk about failing to engage complexities of human experience.

In this increasingly globalized world it is imperative that religious and non-religious groups understand each other as completely as they can. McGrath's piece only furthers ignorance when it comes to atheism and those who are curious about it deserve better.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Remember Pauly Shore?

I am kinda glad that I have this little blog going. It gives me a chance to vent and correct the errors made when people like John Stossel write horrible, one sided, willfully ignorant pieces on things they know nothing about. Plus he has a funny mustache. There. I said it. John Stossel is a douchbag with a funny mustache and the brains of a trout. And not even a smart trout - one of those trout who gets caught on a hook, thrown back, and the caught on the SAME hook again because they are that stupid.


But enough about him for now.


The other thing I love about the blog is that it gives me a chance to write stories about my sons and share them with the world. Along with that, it gives me a place to store said stories so I don't have to keep them in my memory, which is, at best, a faulty storage medium.

So yesterday, I am driving home from swimming lessons when a song on the radio reminded me of an old Pauly Shore movie. In don't remember the name of this particular piece of celluloid excrement, and it doesn't really matter because they were really all the same: surfer dude is placed into an awkward situation where his idiocy and surfer charms win over the stiff establishment suits and then there is a big party where everyone exchanges Shore-isms like "Chillin' with the weasel, buddy!"

Anyway, I was reminded of a particular line, and said this line out loud with my little 3 1/2 year old in earshot.

"No weezing the juice!" I said loudly, with a trace of surfer accent.

"What?" came the reply from the backseat, where Ryan had been happily playing with his stickers and books.

"Nothing. Never mind."

Ryan, never one to give up on something he is interested in, asks again, "What did you say?"

Crap. Based on previous experience he is not going to give up until I tell him something. And I can't lie to him - I'm not good at it and he knows when I am doing it anyway. So through my negligence as a parent, I have now introduced Pauly Shore into the life of an otherwise innocent young child.

"It's a line from a movie. 'No weezing the juice'."

"No sneezing in the juice?"

"No. The line is 'No weezing the juice' - WEE-ZING. The first letter is 'W' which sounds like Wuh." Check it out. A phonics lesson from Pauly Shore. Who'd have thunk it?

"Ok. No Wuh-eezing the juice."

"Close enough. Now lets just forget this ever happened, ok?"

"NO WEEZING THE JUICE!" comes the reply from the backseat. Clearly this is not going to be forgotten.

"NO WEEZING THE SPRUCE!"

Great. Now we are improvising and adding material from books we have read. (BTW - "The Caboose Who Got Loose" is a great book for kids.)

"No weezing the fire hydrant!"

Ok. That doesn't even rhyme, but he is undaunted and now it is a game, and I am all for new games. "No weezing the tanker truck," I reply. Ryan laughs and is totally into this new pastime.

And so continues the car ride. "No weezing the..." whatever. Sign, red car, policeman, bird, daddy, etc. It doesn't matter. We are happily negating the weezing of whatever it is that our little eyes spy.

When we get home, it seems that Ryan has forgotten all about the new phrase and the game that goes along with it. However, at dinner that night, when we are all sitting around eathing tacos, Ryan shakes his juice cup, which is empty and says "No weezing the juice!"

My wife looks at me as if to say "Great. What have you taught him now?"

"No weezing the tomato," laughs Ryan.

So now I have to explain not only what our first born is saying, but where it comes from and why I said the phrase in the first place.

As of now he seems to have forgotten about the "Weezing" game, but I imagine it will come out at the wrong time in the wrong place. Perhaps at pre-school on Tuesday.

Won't that be fun? Good thing Jen gets to be the one picking him up!



Friday, February 15, 2008

Science Geek Son

Ahhh...the perils of having a science geek for a father.

The other day, my son asked me a question for which I didn't have a ready answer. "Why does Daisy (our dog) have feet?" he asked.

What?

Why does our dog have feet? I'll be honest, I had never once thought to ask myself that question. All dogs have feet. So do all humans. And cats, squirrels, chipmunks, monkeys, llamas - they all have feet as well. Hopefully none of this comes as earth shaking news to anyone.

So I laughed and asked, "Do you want the science answer or the short answer?"

He responded, "The science answer!"

Awesome. I love the science answer - it gives me a chance to talk science with my little boy and show him some of the marvels of the world, the beauty that is nature, and the fact that it is cool to know some of this stuff. Plus, if he gets bored with the answer, I can always toss in stuff about dinosaurs or giant squid if necessary. Those never fail to capture the imagination. (Although in this particular case, I wasn't sure how I could swing the subject from canine appendages to squid tentacles).

So I replied, "Because she is a tetrapod."

Insert puzzled look on 3 year olds face here. "What?"

"A tetrapod," I replied. "Any animal with 4 limbs is considered a tetrapod. It has to do with the fact that they all share a common ancestor which probably crawled out of the water sometime in the late Devonian period."

"Devonian?"

"Yep." I am now proud of my answer and of my son who is able to say the word "Devonian".

"So she has feet because she is a tetrapod," says the incredulous 3 year old.

"Yep."

"Am I a tetrapod?"

"Yep. Four limbs. Count 'em. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4."

"But I don't have 4 feet. I have 2 feet and 2 hands."

"Hands and feet are just modifications of the sets of bones which were present in the earliest tetrapods."

He looks at me quizzically for a few seconds. "I have an idea! Lets play trains!"

Clearly I am losing him. "Did you know that dinosaurs were also tetrapods?" I ask, grasping to hold his attention for a few seconds more.

"Dinosaurs were tetrapods?"

"Yes," I say, back on track.

"Ok. Is mommy a tetrapod?"

"Yep. Be sure to tell her that when we go upstairs for lunch. And while you are at it, remind her that mushrooms are fungi. She loves science words."

"Ok. OH! I have an idea...lets play trains!"

Resigned to ending another science lesson, I capitulate and we start building a track. Halfway through the construction of what has to be the worlds most amazing setup of plastic connecting traintracks, with my son pushing his trains -Thomas (the Tank Engine), Gordon, James, and Percy - I hear the cutest thing.

My son is speaking to his trains. "Thomas, you are not a tetrapod because you have 6 wheels and no feet. But I am, and so is mommy."

I love being a dad.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Suckafool

So I threw out the phrase "shut your face, suckafool" in class today.

I do that a lot. Not call people "suckafool", of course, but say things that might be considered inappropriate by some, if not all, of the people who might read this. Yesterday I mentioned to my AP Bio class that the word "Stramenopila" (a major group of Algae) sounds like a sexually transmitted disease and could also be a good name for a punk band. We also discussed the fact that xylem cells (which look and act like microscopic drinking straws) are dead at maturity, just like real straws. That, in and of itself, is not too bad, but I then proceeded to ask "what if real straws were alive? Would they try and become more than platonic friends? You wouldn't really be able to blame then due to the fact that you are always putting them in and around your mouth - they would probably get the idea that you were into them."

Anyway, just thought I'd share.

Friday, February 8, 2008

What is this about?

Ok - truth time.

I hate zombies.

There. I've said it. They scare the crap out of me. With all the slow, laborious walking and the loud moaning and the never stopping until their heads are chopped off, these things are the stuff of nightmares. At least my nightmares.

Stupid zombies.

And don't get me started on the newer generation of zombies made popular in the remakes of "Dawn of the Dead" and other movies like "28 Days later" and "I am legend". (Ok, technically the creatures in "I am legend" were supposed to be vampires - at least in the book - but they sure look like zombies in the flick.) Those suckers can move! Running and climbing and still not dying until something horrible happens to the cranium, these things are the stuff of more recent nightmares.

I am a giant pansy.

These are some of the zombies referred to in the title of the blog, but by no means all of them. I have another definition of zombie: one who mindlessly continues doing what he or she has always done with nary a critical thought in their little heads. Generally it seems that the only thing that will stop them from spouting their inane, poorly constructed thoughts regarding the relative youth of the earth and the merits of a global increase in temperature is to chop their heads off. I propose that, while it may sometimes be satisfying to do so, we should not immediately reach for a lethally sharpened sword or overly sharp spoon to dispatch these people. Rather we should force them to read this and other blogs which point out the error of their ways and attempt to rehabilitate them.

Topics that will be covered include but are not limited to creationsim/Intelligent Design, Climate change and the various denialists out there, religion and the various issues surrounding it, and, hopefully only occasionally, actual zombie reports. Other topics might include such favorites as politics, European soccer, and my kids.

So while I truly do hate movie zombies, I am fully aware that they are not real.

I may be a pansy but I can tell fact from fiction.