ARE YOU WORTH ANYTHING?

ARE YOU WORTH ANYTHING?

There are two possible answers: Yes or no. And, whatever your answer there is the ugly, “How do you know?” Keep in mind that a great deal seems to depend on your answer. I suppose the bottom line determines whether or not you will go to heaven or the other place.

Kids are desperate to know their value because they have an inborn fear of being deserted by their parents. If they get the message that they are worthless that's the end, or at least until they can figure out a way to become worthwhile again. While at the bottom is survival, the less stringent penalties for worthlessness are punishments and loss of the goodies of life. I remember accidentally hearing my father say, “That damned kid.” Well, I was the only kid around and I was stabbed by his cruel rejection of me. I returned a pencil he had given me and made the usually whiny noises produced by distressed kids and dogs. My parents were horrified but clarified by explaining he had meant a young man at work. Still, it took a while for the would to heal.

Obviously, if you are worth something you are at the top of your world. Friends want you on their teams, teachers smile when you walk into the classroom and when you get older, girls or boys (depending on your proclivities) hover around. A worthwhile person, kid or adult is a joy to be and a joy to have around.

If you conclude the opposite, that you are worth little or nothing, well, you've all been there. There is nothing but gloom in your life, you have failed the basic test of being and there is no pleasure. It often becomes a rather desperate situation and sometimes leads to substance abuse, promiscuity, passivity in relationships and very often failure. Everybody in has at one time or another concluded that he/she is worthless or worth little in the grand scheme of things. Self-esteem is low and verbal self-abuse abounds.

Religion often is based on threats of hell or hopes of paradise so shape up, act right and you'll earn your wings. Some argue that God don't create no junk, but the fear is that God don't want no junk in heaven; only Satan is for the worthless sorts because they deserve punishment.

Well, you probably have figured out that the above is all humbug, that striving for self-worth is a foolish task that slips and slides depending on mood and circumstance. If you get an A and are thus worthwhile, what are you worth if you get an F? And, how can you be worthwhile? So much of it depends on the people around you. All of them have idiosyncratic ideas about such things so how can you get any basis for knowing about your worth. You get an F. One teacher tells you how disappointed he is. The other tells you he knows how hard you tried. Both want you to do better but how do you react?

If the chase for worth is like searching for fools gold, what is left? The real gold is in shifting one's focus. Instead of straining for fools gold, work on self-acceptance. Quote Albert Ellis: “I am a fucked up fallible human being who will screw things up royally. That is unavoidable, that is human nature. Instead of rating myself I'll see if I can figure out how to do better. If I can, swell. If not, maybe I should change my goal.”

There is a wonderful outcome to this: You stop punishing yourself or others and do your best to improve things. And, to accept the reality, “That’s life.”

Self worth is quite a mirage

To give it up takes a bit of courage.

But if you remember to say

I don't need to be okay

Self acceptance is a tasty frommage.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

AUGUST 1, 2011

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

Are they strange bed fellows or antagonists? Shall humanists accommodate to religious culture as Sagan suggested or shall they challenge the core tenets of religious belief. This is an argument currently playing out in humanist circles, with advocates of both positions maneuvering for primacy.

The Jewish and Christian bibles (henceforth I will speak of the bible), not so long ago spoke with the conviction of truth. Wise men explained the bible's meanings to their flocks (that's how sermons started) because the people could not be trusted to get their understandings right. The bible came to us from god.

In the late 1800s German scholars began to examine the bible and discovered that what had been thought to be a seamless exposition was written by four different people or groups (possibly one a woman) and odd peculiarities cropped up. They applied literary techniques and wondered why there are two genesis stories and began to understand that at least in part different oral traditions had to have their say.

But, well before those events, scientists began to nibble away at biblical descriptions of reality. Bruno was burned alive because he spoke about the possibility of alternate universes ( a current red-hot topic). Galileo was condemned because he pushed the notion that the earth rotated about the sun. There are still people who believe in Noah's ark and there are those who believe that the earth and its apparent history came into being about six thousand years ago. When doctors wanted to do autopsies, religious leaders would not permit such because we are created in god's image and blah, blah, blah. Surgery became possible because wounded soldiers had to be treated.

Sometime in our history, people lost faith in biblical veracity because wise men could see that reality did not fit the bible. At first religionists loved geology because sea-creature fossils were found everywhere but as geologists further investigated and understood the disappearance of  the ancient seas religionists could not accept the disproof of their beliefs. There are still places in this country where the flood is taught as the truth.

Still, not accommodating to religion, i.e., attacking it needs consider the value it has to huge numbers of people. It provides solace in the face of disaster, it seems to provide purpose in life and is a comfort to those whose lives seem empty. Why not let it alone, accommodate to its idiosyncrasies and only challenge those attitudes which might cause problems. Can you think of any? There is hostility to abortion which absurdly require that a fetus is really a tiny child. There is creationism and its pseudo-sophisticated child, intelligent design. There is the refusal to accept stem cell research; who cares if people have to suffer and die in order to preserve the rights of babies in the womb?

And, the best for last: how did religion become the progenitor of morality? They swirl around the conflict between discovered and received wisdom. Science struggles to discover new information and weave it into better understandings of reality. Of course, it sometimes takes wrong paths but science has self-correction built in. Science is public so that anyone can challenge its findings. Remember the flap about cold fusion? Remember Velikovski?

In contrast, received wisdom comes from God. That being hands it to us in the bible and religious leaders cannot be wrong in their understanding of god's will. “God wants you to . . .”, is a favorite line and brooks no dispute. “Do not eat non-kosher food,” “An abortion will send you to hell.” All such commands are presented true and faithful renditions of god's desires, --- or so they say.

Accomodationists argue that there is no way to get people to think differently about their beliefs. There is the notion that the harder the push, the more resistance so that pointing out the problems will only create enemies. Yet, think of the great transformations in our country. There was anti-slavery sentiment from the git-go; decent minded people persisted in advancing their ideas until the South started a war to preserve what they called their “peculiar institution.” And finally, finally African-Americans are slowly receiving parity. Or consider in my life time (and of many of the people reading this) LGBT people have become somewhat acceptable and can even marry, what a shock to religionists who see life through received wisdom rather than looking at reality. It is important to speak up when religion intrudes as it must because God has told them so.

I never heard of a religion

That could fly as straight as a pigeon

Its knowledge is received

But, don't be deceived.

Of truth they have hardly a smidgen.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

Are they strange bed fellows or antagonists? Shall humanists accommodate to religious culture as Sagan suggested or shall they challenge the core tenets of religious belief. This is an argument currently playing out in humanist circles, with advocates of both positions maneuvering for primacy.

The Jewish and Christian bibles (henceforth I will speak of the bible), not so long ago spoke with the conviction of truth. Wise men explained the bible's meanings to their flocks (that's how sermons started) because the people could not be trusted to get their understandings right. The bible came to us from god.

In the late 1800s German scholars began to examine the bible and discovered that what had been thought to be a seamless exposition was written by four different people or groups (possibly one a woman) and odd peculiarities cropped up. They applied literary techniques and wondered why there are two genesis stories and began to understand that at least in part different oral traditions had to have their say.

But, well before those events, scientists began to nibble away at biblical descriptions of reality. Bruno was burned alive because he spoke about the possibility of alternate universes ( a current red-hot topic). Galileo was condemned because he pushed the notion that the earth rotated about the sun. There are still people who believe in Noah's ark and there are those who believe that the earth and its apparent history came into being about six thousand years ago. When doctors wanted to do autopsies, religious leaders would not permit such because we are created in god's image and blah, blah, blah. Surgery became possible because wounded soldiers had to be treated.

Sometime in our history, people lost faith in biblical veracity because wise men could see that reality did not fit the bible. At first religionists loved geology because sea-creature fossils were found everywhere but as geologists further investigated and understood the disappearance of  the ancient seas religionists could not accept the disproof of their beliefs. There are still places in this country where the flood is taught as the truth.

Still, not accommodating to religion, i.e., attacking it needs consider the value it has to huge numbers of people. It provides solace in the face of disaster, it seems to provide purpose in life and is a comfort to those whose lives seem empty. Why not let it alone, accommodate to its idiosyncrasies and only challenge those attitudes which might cause problems. Can you think of any? There is hostility to abortion which absurdly require that a fetus is really a tiny child. There is creationism and its pseudo-sophisticated child, intelligent design. There is the refusal to accept stem cell research; who cares if people have to suffer and die in order to preserve the rights of babies in the womb?

And, the best for last: how did religion become the progenitor of morality? They swirl around the conflict between discovered and received wisdom. Science struggles to discover new information and weave it into better understandings of reality. Of course, it sometimes takes wrong paths but science has self-correction built in. Science is public so that anyone can challenge its findings. Remember the flap about cold fusion? Remember Velikovski?

In contrast, received wisdom comes from God. That being hands it to us in the bible and religious leaders cannot be wrong in their understanding of god's will. “God wants you to . . .”, is a favorite line and brooks no dispute. “Do not eat non-kosher food,” “An abortion will send you to hell.” All such commands are presented true and faithful renditions of god's desires, --- or so they say.

Accomodationists argue that there is no way to get people to think differently about their beliefs. There is the notion that the harder the push, the more resistance so that pointing out the problems will only create enemies. Yet, think of the great transformations in our country. There was anti-slavery sentiment from the git-go; decent minded people persisted in advancing their ideas until the South started a war to preserve what they called their “peculiar institution.” And finally, finally African-Americans are slowly receiving parity. Or consider in my life time (and of many of the people reading this) LGBT people have become somewhat acceptable and can even marry, what a shock to religionists who see life through received wisdom rather than looking at reality. It is important to speak up when religion intrudes as it must because God has told them so.

I never heard of a religion

That could fly as straight as a pigeon

Its knowledge is received

But, don't be deceived.

Of truth they have hardly a smidgen.

NAPS

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy