Certainty vs. Doubt

When does doubt arise?

Let's suppose we ask a question. I'm drinking a cup of water. The question is, how do we know it's water? You can come to absolute, unfettered certainty that it is water. Why? Because the definition of water is, "a clear, tasteless liquid that quenches thirst." You look at the cup of water: it is liquid, it is clear, it has no taste, and when I drink it, my thirst is quenched. By definition, this must be water. There is no question: it is certain. If it turns out one of these parts of the definition is false, it must therefore not be water.

Let's suppose we ask a different question. The question is, are my perceptions reality? You cannot help but have doubt. Is this water clear, or do I merely think it's clear? I don't know. There's no way to be certain. We can be deceived. There is doubt.

What's the difference between the two questions? The first question has nothing to do with the self. It is a simple, objective question. Is this water? Of course it is. The fact of it being water proceeds from the simple knowledge of experience. I experience it to be water, and because the thing is defined by the experience (i.e. the experience of it being clear, the experience of it being liquid, the experience of quenched thirst, etc.) it must by definition be water. But do I perceive it to be water, or not? The question doesn't even make sense. It either is water, or it isn't. Perceptions are irrelevant. Do I merely think it's water? "Thinking" is the problem.

If you experience it as water, it is water. If you don't experience it as water, it isn't water. If you perceive that it looks like water and it may or may not be water, you're being pretentious.

On Divine Inspiration

I think the argument that religion is bad for humanity, put forth by Christopher Hitchens and others, is faulty. Religion is of positive benefit to us all.

Of course, there's a good instinct behind the blame of religion for world problems. Peoples of the world use religion to harm others. They say that because God spoke to them, they have the right to kill others. Christopher Hitchens said that such a belief is essentially totalitarian. It puts ultimate truth in a single person, or a single book, at the exclusion of others. But I say this is nonsense.

To understand why this is nonsense, we should unpack the ideas at play here. One is of an ultimate power, or God. There is also the idea that this ultimate power can inspire others disproportionately. Then, there is the idea that this ultimate power having given divine charter to individuals over others leads to violence.

It is at this last point where the idea fails.

Think about it. This is not an argument against religion; it's an argument against power. It is the divine charter itself that people have a problem with, not the fact that it is divine. And I say this is wrongheaded. People need power. Power is part of what makes us who we are.

I think this is the time to lay down some working definitions. When I'm talking about "divine inspiration," I'm talking about the product of religion. Many religious texts claim divine inspiration. They say, essentially, that this particular text came from God and has the authority of God in a sense. There are also many people in the world who claim to be divinely inspired, and claim the authority of God in a sense. What they are saying is that God has transferred some of His power to them. What I'm saying is that, contrary to many people's belief, this idea of having been divinely inspired is not at fault when these people choose to behave negatively. It's like having a car. Having a car gives you a great deal of power, and enables you to do things you wouldn't be able to do otherwise. However, of course, you may choose to drive drunk, and as a result, kill people. You wouldn't be able to kill people if you were just walking around drunk. Having the car gives you the ability to choose foolish actions which harm others. But I don't think that's an argument against cars. It's an argument against stupid decisions. Same goes for religion.

Suppose anti-religious people had their way, and God never divinely inspired anyone. There would be no change in human nature. Individuals or groups claiming inspiration leading to a better world would have no ability to garner public support and effect change, because, by definition, they would have nothing these other people didn't have. On the positive side, you'd never have people resorting to heavy-handed or desperate tactics in the name of this inspiration. But I'd rather humanity at least have the choice to effect change, even if the choice can be corrupted.

And that is the essence of my argument in support of religion. People who are inspired by God have a choice to behave positively or negatively. If there were no divine inspiration, there'd be no choice. And nothing would ever change, for good or bad. The fact that a huge number of people choose to use their inspiration as reasons to behave badly reflects badly on us, but not on religion.

Why Psychiatry is So Evil

This is the end game for people with psychosis. Dissidents will be silenced, and creative minds will be subdued.

Evil Puppy (dream)

An evil puppy came into my family somehow. (I think one of my little brothers adopted it.) It was an all-powerful puppy, who had superpowers, and could kill you just as soon as look at you. Of course, I had to fall in line, and do whatever the evil puppy commanded. I bided my time, waiting for the moment to regain my dignity and free myself from the yolk of oppression.

At last, a young boy from the slums outside of town gave me the key to my freedom!

"I know of this puppy," the Wise One said. "All you need is a raw fish."

So I went to the supermarket and bought a slab of raw fish and went home. I was greeted, of course, by the sinister sack of cuteness.

"Get me a bone, Now." said the puppy.

I said, "No." And slapped him with the fish.

"What? I'll teach you," he said, coming at me to attack me.

But I slapped him again. Each time he came at me, I slapped him with the fish, and he was set aback. He was aghast at my display of power. Finally the puppy started whining and said, "Okay. You win. You don't have to give me a bone."

"Damn straight," I said.

The puppy had a miserable time coping with his lack of power. Now that I was the alpha male, he wasn't quite the same. Of course, being a magnanimous alpha male, I didn't want him to feel too bad. So I tried to cheer him up. But nothing worked. It isn't exactly easy to be cheered up by the guy who slapped you with a fish and took away your superpowers. But finally, the answer came in the form of a radiant, glowing superhuman, who turned out to be the puppy's natural master. The puppy was delighted to see him, and they went peacefully along their way, happily, under no yolks of oppression.