Saturday, August 15, 2015

DURKHEIM: CAPITALISM AND SUICIDE; ATHEISTS OFFEND SIMPLY BY EXISTING; LEFT-BRAIN RIGHT-BRAIN MYTH; THINK SMALL, DO LESS

THE FIRST WORD

I want to know
the first word,
older than fire
and more necessary —

Was it a cry of warning?
Or a child’s wail for
touch, mother syllable
of familiar heat?

A woman’s god-creating
attempt to name a lover,
a man’s god-shattering
attempt to name himself?

Or was the first word
god, manifest
music of thought,
emptied of frightened flesh?

Was it a yes, a no,
a yes, but – ?
And I want to know
the first lie.

*

Perhaps there were many
first words, first secrets,
first denials —
gossiping over a carcass

of a woolly mammoth,
complaining (the foremost
marker of culture 

is complaining).

*

Now we have too many words.
Words instead of children 

sit in our laps. That’s why we 
talk so much about silence.

*

How moist the newborn
first word must have been,
like the scent
of the earth after rain.

Someone’s grinding acorns,
baking the first bread.
Someone pierces bone,
making the first flute.

water starts flowing
into water,
the grain of stone
closes over stone.

~ Oriana © 2015


CULTURE/IDEAS

EMILE DURKHEIM: CAPITALISM AND SUICIDE

“Emile Durkheim is the philosopher who can best help us to understand why Capitalism makes us richer and yet frequently more miserable; even –- far too often –- suicidal.

Durkheim lived through the immense, rapid transformation of France from a largely traditional agricultural society to an urban, industrial economy. He could see that his country was getting richer, that Capitalism was extraordinarily productive and, in certain ways, liberating. But what particularly struck him, and became the focus of his entire career, were the psychological costs of Capitalism. The economic system might have created an entire new middle class, but it was doing something very peculiar to people’s minds. It was — quite literally — driving them to suicide in ever increasing numbers.

Edouard Manet, The Suicide, 1881

This was the immense insight unveiled in Durkheim’s most important work, Suicide, published in 1897. The book chronicled a remarkable and tragic discovery: that suicide rates seem to shoot up once a nation becomes industrialized and Consumer Capitalism takes hold. Durkheim observed that the suicide rate in the Britain of his day was double that of Italy; but in even richer and more advanced Denmark, it was four times higher than in the UK. Furthermore, suicide rates were much higher amongst the educated than the uneducated; much higher in Protestant than in Catholic countries; and much higher among the middle classes than among the poor.

Durkheim’s focus on suicide was intended to shed light on a more general level of unhappiness and despair at large in society. Suicide was the horrific tip of the iceberg of mental distress created by Capitalism.

1. Individualism

Under Capitalism, it is the individual (rather than the clan, or ‘society’ or the nation) that now chooses everything: what job to take, what religion to follow, who to marry… This ‘individualism’ forces us to be the authors of our own destinies. How our lives pan out becomes a reflection of our unique merits, skills and persistence.

If things go well, we can take all the credit. But if things go badly, it is crueller than ever before, for it means there is no one else to blame. We have to shoulder the full responsibility. We aren’t just unlucky any more, we have chosen and have messed up. Individualism ushers in a disinclination to admit to any sort of role for luck or chance in life. Failure becomes a terrible judgement upon oneself. This is the particular burden of life in modern Capitalism.

2. Excessive expectations

Capitalism raises our hopes. Everyone – with enough effort – can become the boss. Everyone should think big. You are not trapped by the past – Capitalism says – you are free to remake your life. The opportunities grow enormous…as do the possibilities for disappointment.

The cheery, boosterish side of Capitalism attracted Durkheim’s particular ire. In his view, modern societies struggle to admit that life is often quite simply painful and sad. Our tendencies to grief and sorrow are made to look like signs of failure rather than, as should be the case, a fair response to the arduous facts of the human condition.

3. Too much freedom

Capitalism relentlessly undermined social norms. States became more complex, more anonymous and more diverse. People didn’t have so much in common with each other any more.

What kind of career should you have? Where should you live? What kind of holiday should you go on? What is a marriage supposed to be like? How should you bring up children? Under Capitalism, the collective answers get weaker, less specific. There’s a lot of reliance on the phrase: ‘whatever works for you.’ Which sounds friendly but also means that society doesn’t much care what you do and doesn’t feel confident it has good answers to the big questions of your life.

In very confident moments we like to think of ourselves as fully up to the task of reinventing life, or working everything out for ourselves. But, in reality, as Durkheim knew, we are often simply too tired, too busy, too uncertain – and there is nowhere to turn.

4. Atheism

Durkheim was himself an atheist, but he worried that religion had become implausible just as its communal side would have been most necessary to repair the fraying social fabric. Despite its factual errors, Durkheim appreciated the sense of community that religion offered: “Religion gave men a perception of a world beyond this earth where everything would be rectified; this prospect made inequalities less noticeable, it stopped men from feeling aggrieved.”

Durkheim took the dark view that inequality would be very hard to eradicate (perhaps impossible), so we would have to learn, somehow, to live with it. This led him to a warmer appreciation of any ideas that could soften the psychological blows of reality.

Durkheim also saw that religion created deep bonds between people. The king and the peasant worshipped the same God, they prayed in the same building using the same words. They were offered precisely the same sacraments. Riches, status and power were of no direct spiritual value.

Capitalism had nothing to replace this with. Science certainly did not offer the same opportunities for powerful shared experiences. The Periodic Table might well possess transcendent beauty and be a marvel of intellectual elegance – but it couldn’t draw a society together around it.

Durkheim was especially taken with elaborate religious rituals that demand participation and create a strong sense of belonging. A tribe might worship its totem, men might undergo a complex process of initiation. The tragedy – in Durkheim’s eyes – was that we had done away with religion at precisely the time when we most needed its collective consoling dimensions and had nothing much to put in its place.

Monet: The fair at the Church of Saint Jaques Dieppes, 1901

5. Weakening of the nation and of the family

In the 19th century, it had looked, at certain moments, as if the idea of the nation might grow so powerful and intense that it could take up the sense of belonging and shared devotion that once had been supplied by religion. But the excitement of a nation at war had, Durkheim saw, failed to translate into anything very impressive in peacetime.

Family might similarly seem to offer the experience of belonging that we needed. But Durkheim was unconvinced. We do indeed invest hugely in our families, but they are not as stable as we might hope. And they do not provide access to a wider community.

 
 John Singer Sargent: The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit, 1882

Increasingly, the ‘family’ in the traditional expansive sense has ceased to exist. It boils down to the couple agreeing to live in the same house and look after one or two children for a while. But in adulthood these children do not expect to work alongside their parents; they don’t expect their social circle to overlap with their parents very much and don’t feel that their parents’ honor is in their hands.

Our looser, more individual sense of family isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just means that it’s not well placed to take up the task of giving us a larger sense of belonging – of giving us the feeling that we are part of something more valuable than ourselves.

Durkheim is a master diagnostician of our ills. He shows us that modern economies put tremendous pressures on individuals, but leave us dangerously bereft of authoritative guidance and communal solace.

He didn’t feel capable of finding answers to the problems he identified but he knew that Capitalism would have to uncover them, or collapse. We are Durkheim’s heirs – and still have ahead of us the task he accorded us: to create new ways of belonging, to take some of the pressure off the individual, to find a correct balance between freedom and solidarity and to generate ideologies that allow us not to take our own failures so personally and sometimes so tragically.”

http://thephilosophersmail.com/perspective/the-great-philosophers-11-emile-durkheim/

( This is a longish article, but here is a video that summarizes it in only seven minutes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9W0GQvONKc)



Degas, Absinthe, 1876

Oriana:

“. . . to take some of the pressure off the individual, to generate ideologies that allow us not to take our own failures so personally and sometimes so tragically.” I’d use the word “life philosophy.” And to develop a life philosophy one has to have both sufficient intelligence and sufficient experience. I finally understood that the “excuse of youth” doesn’t expire at the age of thirty, say. Or forty, or even beyond. Wisdom comes when it comes (IF it comes).

And it helps tremendously to meet others who freely admit, “I didn’t realize what was important until I turned 58” — or 61, 69, 75 — put in any figure here. There is no shame in taking a long time to understand what’s really precious and important. And it takes life experience. If you are the kind of woman (this seems to apply to women in particular) who requires living by herself before she ceases to be mostly a caretaker and a “service person,” and can at last “find herself,” then the experience of divorce or widowhood may be necessary.

I agree that the danger of depression and suicide goes up tremendously with the individualism fostered by capitalism. But I’ll take it any time over the collective pressures of earlier times. Women were virtually slaves, and men paid a price as well, their talents stifled as they had to go into the family business.

Hopefully we’re past excessive individualism in the sense of blaming the individual for every “failure” — no longer seen as misfortune due to circumstances. With a trend away from free will, we are beginning to see the enormous role of circumstances. This is only the beginning of that deeper understanding that began with the growth of psychology and neuroscience. A more psychological perspective should lead us away from blaming, contempt, and hatred, and toward more compassion.

There is of course still a segment of society that explains poverty as sin and misfortune as god’s punishment. It’s a noisy view — This woman got raped because she wore sexy clothes. These school children got shot because we don’t have school prayer — but that’s increasingly the voice of the lunatic fringe.

As for the family, I’ve seen a strengthening rather than a weakening. True, a minority women choose to use a sperm bank and become single mothers. Given the risk of waiting too long for Mr. Right and missing one’s chance to have a biological child, that decision is not exactly outrageous. A more interesting trend is that of educated people marrying later in life and having lasting marriages, with the father involved in child rearing. Those families can be extremely close, and yes, the retired parents will move so as to be near their children and grandchildren.

Even without as much closeness as that, what I see around me is people raising children with a lot more love than was typical of Durkheim’s day, when typical child rearing practices would strike us as abusive. Family love has become enormously important, and is perhaps the most successful replacement for religion.

Finally, when we look at suicide rate in various countries, we see that the most developed capitalist countries are not in the lead (except for Japan, with its shame culture). Lithuania and Russia are far ahead of France, Germany, and Switzerland — probably because of the combined ravages of alcoholism and economic hardship.

Thus, Durkheim’s analysis is only partly correct. But his theorizing remains important because it points to the importance of social connectedness and close personal ties. We are beginning to speak of the “connectome” — the way we’ve popularized “genome” and “biome.” A human being is not an isolated individual. People’s lives are meaningful within their social group. The worship of individualism seems to have reached its peak and crested. Now it’s connection, connection, connection.

And yes, the task is ahead of us. The future may bring us more eco-farms and artisanal communities where people can cultivate the satisfying sense of connection that marks the best of pre-capitalism. 


Bueghel the Elder, The Kermess, 1570-1580

RELIGION/ATHEISM

ATHEISTS OFFEND SIMPLY BY EXISTING

Recently I’ve had a disquieting experience of being compared to a mass shooter or a wife beater (sic) for saying something that revealed my atheism. My comments were compared to “shooting at random.” I mentally reeled in astonishment. Nothing I’ve ever said or done in my life merited being compared with the actions of a mass shooter, much less some forgettable Facebook comment. This holds even if we apply the unbelievably high standard set by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount: even if you didn’t commit murder, if you are angry with your brother or sister in your heart, you will be just as “subject to judgment.” “And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.”

But I didn’t call anyone a fool. My tone was moderate, polite.

Then I recalled what I’ve noticed before: some religious people feel threatened by the very existence of atheists. And I found an article that “explained it all” by the excellent “Godless in Dixie” blogger, Neil Carter: “Why Even Nice Atheists Are Offensive to the Faithful.”

“Greta Christina pretty much nailed it when she said:

‘Religion relies on social consent to perpetuate itself. But the simple act of coming out as an atheist denies it this consent. Even if atheists never debate believers or try to persuade them out of their beliefs; even if all we ever do is say out loud, “Actually, I’m an atheist,” we’re still denying our consent. And that throws a monkey wrench into religion’s engine.’

In other words, atheists offend simply by existing. Just as the Emperor’s new wardrobe choice could only be successful if everyone agreed to not speak ill of it, so there’s an unspoken rule that says the worst thing an apostate can do is admit out loud that she has left the faith. Nothing more need be said in order to offend. She offends now by existing, and she offends by openly admitting who and what she is.

Which is why more of us need to do this. Not much more is really required in order to make a difference. The mere act of “coming out” as an atheist denies Fundamentalism the consent it requires in order to remain a coercive force over the lives of people. Do all expressions of the Christian faith demand such obeisance? No, definitely not. But the ones that do won’t go away just because we ignore them. And frankly, I don’t think it makes much difference to the more liberal strains of religion what the rest of us believe, so long as we agree to try to leave the world a better place than how we found it. Those are my feelings as well.

I would temper this encouragement to come out with a warning that for some it might not be such a good idea. Some just aren’t in a position to do it at all. Some will need to wait until they are in a stronger place themselves so that they can endure the onslaught of negativity their apostasy will engender. But for those who can, it helps the rest of us each time yet another person steps forward and says, however they say it, “Actually, I’m an atheist.”

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/godlessindixie/2014/09/09/why-even-nice-atheists-are-offensive-to-the-faithful/


I posted this on Facebook and received this comment: "I can understand perfectly. I myself consider being religious as a character flaw and i just can't get over it. But we all have our flaws. I never considered "a man of God" to be complimentary. I don't even think the Clergy really believe it. It's a living."

I replied:

From the start I had a heavy suspicion that at least some priests didn't believe the stuff. Some must have felt doomed to hell for unbelief and hating the god talk — their faces looked absolutely tragic. Same with nuns. Living a lie, wasted lives, having denied themselves human love . . . I was a sensitive child, and could tell if someone was unhappy, especially extremely unhappy. And that disturbed me: seeing those pale tragic faces above the black robes.

There are plenty of stories of non-believing clergy if you search online. There are whole books, memoirs. And yes, it is a living. The Clergy Project is an organization that helps agnostic and atheist priests and ministers leave the church and find a secular job.

**

Considering that atheists used to get burned at the stake if anyone found out, it’s interesting that we have a wealth of historical material documenting the existence of atheists going back as far as the ancient Hindu culture. There is reason to think that doubters (to use a milder term) existed as long as religion existed, even in cultures where doubt was severely penalized. The reason for the death penalty for atheism, I suspect, has been the shaky nature of religious faith. Smart people could figure out that the official “knowledge” (in primeval times, there was no separate word for religion) didn’t add up, and that animal sacrifice and other rituals did no good. Possibly a lot of people suspected as much, but tried to stifle doubt within themselves, finding elaborate excuses for god’s silence and absence.

And this goes on even in modern times: religious people take offense that seems completely out of proportion. Say that prayer doesn’t work, and you are going to be compared to a mass shooter. I would have never believed it — and then it happened to me, and due to a milder statement . . .


HEALTH/PSYCHOLOGY

THE MYTH OF BEING "LEFT-BRAINED" OR "RIGHT-BRAINED" — AND WHY IT WILL PROBABLY NEVER DIE

“The myth might have arisen from the Nobel Prize-winning research of Roger Sperry, which was done in the 1960s. Sperry studied patients with epilepsy, who were treated with a surgical procedure that cut the brain along a structure called the corpus callosum. Because the corpus callosum connects the two hemispheres of the brain, the left and right sides of these patients' brains could no longer communicate.

Sperry and other researchers, through a series of clever studies, determined which parts, or sides, of the brain were involved in language, math, drawing and other functions in these patients. But then popular-level psychology enthusiasts ran with this idea, creating the notion that personalities and other human attributes are determined by having one side of the brain dominate the other. Popular culture would have you believe that logical, methodical and analytical people are left-brain dominant, while the creative and artistic types are right-brain dominant.

The neuroscience community never bought into this notion, lead author Jeff Anderson said, and now we have evidence from more than 1,000 brain scans showing absolutely no signs of left or right dominance.

They found no evidence that people preferentially use their left or right brain. All of the study participants were using their entire brain equally throughout the course of the experiment.

The preference to use one brain region more than others for certain functions, which scientists call lateralization, is indeed real, Anderson said. For example, speech emanates from the left side of the brain for most right-handed people. This does not imply, though, that great writers or speakers use their left side of the brain more than the right, or that one side is richer in neurons.

There is a misconception that everything to do with being analytical is confined to one side of the brain, and everything to do with being creative is confined to the opposite side, Anderson said. In fact, IT IS THE CONNECTIONS AMONG ALL BRAIN REGIONS THAT ENABLE HUMANS TO ENGAGE IN BOTH CREATIVITY AND ANALYTICAL THINKING.

"It is not the case that the left hemisphere is associated with logic or reasoning more than the right," Anderson told LiveScience. "Also, creativity is no more processed in the right hemisphere than the left."

Anderson's team examined brain scans of participants ages 7 to 29 while they were resting. They looked at activity in 7,000 brain regions, and examined neural connections within and between these regions. Although they saw pockets of heavy neural traffic in certain key regions, on average, both sides of the brain were essentially equal in their neural networks and connectivity.

"We just don't see patterns where the whole left-brain network is more connected, or the whole right-brain network is more connected in some people," said Jared Nielsen, a graduate student and first author on the new study.

http://www.livescience.com/39373-left-brain-right-brain-myth.html?cmpid=514627_20140526_24513456


At the same time, the usage has become ingrained:

“The left-brain right-brain myth will probably never die because it has become a powerful metaphor for different ways of thinking – logical, focused and analytic versus broad-minded and creative. Take the example of Britain’s Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks talking on BBC Radio 4 earlier this year. “What made Europe happen and made it so creative,” he explained, “is that Christianity was a right-brain religion … translated into a left-brain language [Greek]. So for many centuries you had this view that science and religion are essentially part of the same thing.”

There is more than a grain of truth to the left-brain right-brain myth. While they look alike, the two hemispheres of the brain do function differently. For example, it’s become almost common knowledge that in most people the left brain is dominant for language. The right hemisphere, on the other hand, is implicated more strongly in emotional processing and representing the mental states of others. However, the distinctions aren't as clear cut as the myth makes out - for instance, the right hemisphere is involved in processing some aspects of language, such as intonation and emphasis [Oriana: and figurative language, i.e. metaphor and irony].

But it’s important to remember that in healthy people the two brain hemispheres are well-connected. In most of what we do, the hemispheres have evolved to operate together, sharing information across the neural bridge of the corpus callosum.

It’s tricky to combat that belief system [in being right-brained or left-brained] by saying the truth is really more complicated. But it’s worth trying, because it would be a shame if the simplistic myth drowned out the more fascinating story of how our brains really work.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/brain-myths/201206/why-the-left-brain-right-brain-myth-will-probably-never-die



THINK SMALL, DO LESS: THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING SELECTIVE
We have tons of books that talk about simplifying your life in terms of getting rid of excess stuff (clothes, books, furniture etc) — but not that many people advocate focusing on just one thing, or maybe two — and getting rid of the endless trivial tasks that consume our time (and time is life, the most important wealth). I’ve just listened to an interview with Greg McKeown on NPR. His message is that we mustn’t spread ourselves thin, trying to do it all. We should do far less, sticking to the essential. We should be very selective: “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”

“What we need to do is decide that we are going to become an essentialist — that we are not going to get caught up in that furor of the frenzied, frenetic nonsense — and instead pursue those things that really matter most to us.”

http://www.npr.org/2014/07/26/334038029/lessons-in-essentialism-getting-more-out-of-life-by-doing-less

Ah, but the uncertainty about what to choose to do! This is where the OR statement becomes crucial. For instance: If my goal is to be a good writer who gives something of true value to my readers, do I surf the pictures of baby animals on Facebook, or do I read a challenging book?

It’s also been called the red light/green light principle: Will doing X get me closer to my goal? The yes answer is a green light; no is a red light.

THE RISK OF PULLING AT THE WRONG THREAD

There is no guarantee that, three days into the book, I may decide the challenging book has been a waste of time after all. What writer hasn’t been haunted by the thought of having wasted years on the wrong project — perhaps his whole life? Here is something wonderful on this subject:

W. G. Sebald writes about a particular brand of melancholy that attends scholars and writers and weavers, a kind of melancholy born of concentrating for long periods of time on intricate patterns. They worry, he writes, about having pulled too long at the wrong thread. Sebald himself writes about a day he gets so lost in footnotes, escaping the factual by virtue of stranger and stranger details buried in the marginalia. At one point, Sebald looks up and realizes that his elderly neighbor, who has been engaged on a lifelong process of reading an encyclopedia has only reached the letter K and, now, it is clear, he will never finish what he started. Sebald starts to see the library as an immense creature that feeds on words and gives birth to words. ~ Janice Greenwood

I think we will never know if we’d wasted much of our life pulling at the wrong thread. We must risk making a wrong choice. But I love the man who got only to the letter K. May he live until P!

*

The main thing is not to take too many projects at once. “We manage best when we manage small,” the poet Linda Gregg reminds us. It’s better to do one thing extraordinarily well than a dozen things badly.

Another point, somewhat tangential. People object to the idea of doing less by saying, “But I have so much to do! If I don’t try to to do it all, I’ll die before it ever get done!”

No, it will never get done. In modern life, the stream of activities doesn’t end just because you need to take the time to die. As writers, we are often advised to start “in medias res” — in the middle of the narrative, without introduction and preliminary details. Perhaps the same applies to endings. It’s better to end one’s life in medias res, I think, to know we’ll never get to the end of that mess, never know the moral of the story, the last line, than to try to catch up on everything and never do anything — no matter how small — at the level of excellence.



Sunday, August 9, 2015

FATE OF GOD(S) AFTER BELIEF IS GONE; GENE PROTECTS AGAINST ALCOHOLISM; THE SUBLIME REDUCES INFLAMMATION; TENDER HEDONISM

Marc Chagall, Time Is a River Without Banks, 1930

Does God cease to exist when there are no humans that believe in him? if so, how many does it take to sustain his reality? A million? A thousand? One? ~ a New York Times reader


**

God’s fate
is now
the fate of trees rocks sun and moon,
the ones they stopped worshiping
when they began to believe in God.

But he’s forced to remain with us
as are the trees, as are the rocks,
sun moon and stars.

~ Yehuda Amichai

One of Amichai’s best insights. If the poem happened to be better known, it would be seen as “daring” in the U.S. — but the rest of the developed world is mostly secular, and this goes very much for Israel. There the poem’s daring lies precisely in pointing out the “persistence of god.”

(By the way, American religiosity places the country close to Mexico. But even in the U.S., 35% of Millennials [those born 1981-1996] are “nones” — that is, they have no religious affiliation, though some of them may call themselves “spiritual.”)

And still, for all the decline in organized religion even in the U.S. (except for fundamentalism), every year brings us books and articles that announce that “God is not going to go away.” I’ve never read a single piece that asserted the contrary: that the very concept of god is bound to vanish. Apparently we are wired to project a parental figure into our surroundings, be it rocks or trees or sky.

It doesn’t matter if the super-parent is invisible. Perhaps that’s even an advantage. Supernatural belief, we are told, is the default human disposition. Even people who don’t go to church tend to believe in “Something Out There.” My friends see nothing embarrassing about believing in the supernatural as long as it’s not Judeo-Christianity but simply “Something Out There.”

How could anyone deny that “Something Out There” exists? I dared to do so and got called a “militant skeptic”; it was not a compliment. I was accused of trying to destroy the sacred TRUST in Something Out There.

There is of course a big difference between worshipping rocks and trees, the sun and the moon, and worshipping god, however we define him (I'm keeping the masculine pronoun because I think that’s culturally an essential part of the concept, in spite of the occasional preacher who assures us that the “fatherhood of god also includes his motherhood”). The rocks and the sun etc have always existed independently of human beings. They exist in an objective sense. They can be seen and measured. Deities have a strictly subjective, imaginary existence. All gods are a human creation, totally dependent on whether or not people believe in them. So, whatever happened to Zeus and Hera, Cernunnos and Wotan? Are they still with us the way trees are rocks are?

Not to that extent, no. But Thursday is still Thor’s Day, and you are now reading “Saturn’s Child.” Christmas and Easter perpetuate certain Celtic and Norse traditions, and are less and less about the Judeo-Christian deity (it’s a god-eat-god world). Wagner’s “Ring” has devout fans willing to pay outrageous ticket prices. Iceland has had a pagan revival. Thousands of poems are written every day about Penelope, Odysseus, Persephone, and other important figures in Greek mythology. It’s not terribly significant, but it’s not nothing either. Even though they are not worshiped anymore, the old gods have entered the culture, and they show no signs of leaving. 


Thus, the ancient gods have been preserved in modern culture, especially in literature and the arts. We still admire the beauty of the ruined temples and statues of the gods, and we enjoy reading works like the Odyssey. Poems about Penelope and Persephone, Odysseus, Athena, or Aphrodite are still being written by the thousands (as a poet, I can assure you this is true — and astounding). Poets constantly find new meaning in the old myths. Minor myths have become forgotten — it’s amazing how much more mythology writers knew as late as the 19th century (maybe because they tended to know Latin and works like Ovid’s Metamorphoses). But major myths, such as Orpheus and Eurydice, are so thoroughly enshrined in the arts that they seem safe from oblivion.

But it’s not the literary afterlife of the gods that’s of most interest, but the persistence of actual living religion. The Abrahamic gods, Yahweh, the Christian Trinity, and Allah, were each in turn (and through a peculiar plagiarism) pronounced to be the One and Only True God, and have proved shockingly resistant to extinction and simply passing into art and literature. Angels and demons have been largely metaphorized and psychologized, but the figure of the supreme father, chief, king — cosmic ruler and absolute dictator of some sort, who will judge us after we die — remains. His imaginary quality has proven to be an asset, since everyone can, and does, imagine him differently.

(By the way, I must protest here the Fundamentalist attitude that god loves you and you’re hurting his feelings by not loving him back. How can you be so mean to the man in the sky [as one gospel song defines him, wonderfully sung by Elvis Presley: “I believe in the man in the sky”]. This is anthropomorphizing taken to the extreme. Sure, most people imagine a personal god who responds to their prayers and is willing to suspend the laws of the universe on the believer’s behalf, but to imagine him suffering a heartbreak because Tom or Judy go about their lives without paying attention to an invisible and undefinable entity is really pushing it . . . surely if a child dying of hunger provokes no divine response, or a political prisoner being tortured, not saying one’s evening prayers can’t count for much?)

My guess is that because of the human emotional needs and the parent-child bond, the projection of god is indeed not going away, especially in times of hardship. But that’s one one of the points that Amichai is making: god is forced to remain with us, i.e. at least some of us will always feel psychologically compelled to keep imaging a parent in the sky. The other point that Amichai makes is that even though this psychological fossil will remain in our minds, the fate of god is going to be that of trees and rocks — he won’t be worshipped anymore, not in the old sense of fear and trembling. This is already the prevailing reality in Europe, and will eventually be the reality everywhere else, though some cultural trappings (e.g. holidays like Christmas) will remain. In fact Christmas is becoming outrageously spectacular — and also more and more secular.

All that amazing architecture turning into ruins, like the old pagan temples . . . It’s already begun.




This abandoned church South Carolina reminds me of a ruined Greek temple

DID ZEUS EXIST? WHY THE GREEKS BELIEVED IN THEIR GODS

“Why did belief in the gods persist in spite of critical challenges? What evidence seemed decisive to the ancient Greeks? Robert Parker, in his “On Greek Religion,” emphasizes the role of what the Greeks saw as experiences of divine actions in their lives. ”The greatest evidence for the existence of gods is that piety works . . . the converse is that impiety leads to disaster,” with by far the most emphasis given to the perils of ignoring the gods.

There were also rituals, associated with the many cults of specific gods, that for some worshippers “created a sense of contact with the divine. One knows that the gods exist because one feels their presence during the drama of the mysteries or the elation of the choral dance.” More broadly, there were “epiphanies” that could “indicate not merely a visible or audible epiphany (whether in the light of day or through a dream . . .) but also any clear expression of a god’s favor such as weather conditions hampering an enemy, a miraculous escape, or a cure; it may also be used of the continuing disposition of a god or goddess to offer manifest assistance.

Most of us do not find our world so filled with the divine, and we may be inclined to dismiss the Greeks’ “experiences” as over-interpretations. But the people who worshiped Zeus claimed to experience his presence in their everyday lives and, especially, in their religious ceremonies.”

From a comment:

Dionysos -- the Zeus of Turkey's Mount Nysa -- died each fall, was buried in the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi, which he would abandon until Dionysos’ rebirth in the spring. “He is risen,” his believers cried out on the appropriate Sunday sunrise, and Apollo had returned.

The great advances of Greek civilization in the fifth and fourth centuries began quite suddenly when the sophists, whom Plato and Socrates despised, stripped the gods out of the myths. That left them with only the natural phenomena the gods were thought to personify and control. So much for the supernatural. The pagan Greeks made no sharp distinction between nature and any hyper-nature, though it is easy for us to see them edging towards it. Christianity defined the boundary.

And another comment:

If you believe in god, does it bother you that all gods that have even been created/worshipped have all acted in the same way as yours does. As though they don’t exist at all. And the reasons that you believe in your god, personal experience, believing that prayer or sacrifice actually work, filling your unanswered questions about the world with a god etc are the same reasons that people gave for believing in past gods. And are the same reasons given for believing in other current gods. The supernatural doesn’t exist, only questions do. And those questions won’t be answered until evidence leads us there. If you jump to supernatural conclusions every time you don't understand something you have a primitive mind and are thinking like people who lived thousands of years ago.

And the inevitable comment, in case anyone missed the point of the article:

Amazing intellectual acrobatics to avoid the obvious conclusion that there is no more reason to believe in a Judeo-Christian god than there is to believe in Zeus.

http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/31/did-zeus-exist/?src=rechp&_r=1

“The greatest evidence for the gods is that piety works” — and the rest of it — the same arguments are those used today: prayer works (it does??! so what happened to animal sacrifice, which presumably used to work just great . . . ), lack of prayer brings on disaster, believers experience the god's presence and signs and miracles . . . same stuff, pointing to human psychology rather than external reality. The eternal return of the same — only the details differ, the names of the deities.


This article reminded me of a crucial moment in my life. For me the decisive realization behind leaving Catholicism was seeing that the Judeo-Christian stories were just another invented mythology. The nuns taught me that all the pagan gods were “false gods”and “idols,” and only the god who once spoke to Moses and other Hebrew patriarchs and prophets was the true, actually existing god.

But the name doesn’t matter . . . If Yahveh exists then Zeus does too (he may be just hiding — just as the Deus absconditus theologians claim that Yahweh exists, he is just hiding), and the wily Wotan wandering in disguise, and and few thousand other deities. On a symbolic level that’s fine: humans have always been very creative and come up with thrilling stories. But on the concrete daily level I was threatened with eternal damnation if I didn’t go to church, say prayers, regard myself as a sinner and human nature as innately wicked, force myself to believe in the literal truth of absurd dogmas and repugnant archaic stories, etc.

 **

Alone, we can do so little. Together, we can do so much. ~ Helen Keller

Atheists are often accused of not believing in anything. But I believe in the collective human genius. It’s exciting to review how much humanity has achieved, and even more exciting to ponder the potential new developments.

 HEALTH

Normally, a gene allele (= form, variety) that slows down detoxification would be dysfunctional. In the case of alcohol, having this allele is equivalent to having your own built-in “Antabuse.” You are punished for drinking anything beyond a small amount, and the unpleasantness of the symptoms acts as a potent deterrent.

A GENE MUTATION PROTECTS AGAINST ALCOHOLISM

(Oriana: the very fact that you can breed animals for heavy drinking versus alcohol aversion shows the power of genetic factors in susceptibility to alcoholism)

“Scientists have known for some time that people vary considerably in their drinking behavior and in their sensitivity to the effects of alcohol. The rate of alcohol metabolism can vary as much as threefold among people with similar drinking habits, and recent studies indicate that the development of alcoholism is influenced by both genetic and environmental factors.

The quest for genes that influence alcohol abuse follows two paths. One goal is to locate genes that predispose a person to alcoholism. The other is to identify genes that help to prevent this from happening.

Li and his coworkers have made important advances in this latter category. "We have identified two genes that protect against heavy drinking, and these are particularly prevalent among Asians," Li says. "We have shown that Native Americans, who have a high rate of alcoholism, do not have these protective genes. The one that is particularly effective is a mutation of the gene for the enzyme aldehyde dehydrogenase, which plays a major role in metabolizing alcohol. The mutation is found very frequently in Chinese and Japanese populations but is less common among other Asian groups, including Koreans, the Malayo-Polynesian group, and others native to the Pacific Rim. "We've also looked at Euro-Americans, Native Americans, and Eskimos, and they don't have that gene mutation," says Li. Thus, incidentally, the study of genetic mutations and alcoholism links native North-American populations to central Asian ancestors, not to those from China and Japan.

Alcohol is metabolized principally in the liver, where it is converted first to acetaldehyde by the enzyme alcohol dehydrogenase. Acetaldehyde is then converted to acetate by the enzyme aldehyde dehydrogenase. Acetaldehyde produces unpleasant physiological reactions even at low concentration, so the presence or absence of the gene mutation affecting aldehyde dehydrogenase in turn affects drinking behaviors. When acetaldehyde is not rapidly converted to acetate the results are dramatic: a rapid increase in blood flow to the skin of the face, neck, and chest, rapid heartbeat, headache, nausea, and extreme drowsiness occur. "As expected, this aversive reaction affects drinking behavior," Li says, "and the mutant gene therefore serves as a protection against heavy drinking and alcoholism. " Li's current research is investigating the occurrence of mutations involving alcohol dehydrogenase. Variant forms of alcohol dehydrogenase can provide some protection against heavy drinking, though not as effectively as the specific aldehyde dehydrogenase mutation identified thus far.

Li's work with rats that he has specially bred for studies of alcoholism has greatly influenced studies of alcoholism in humans and earned him an international reputation, even though it was his clincial experience with alcoholics that convinced him of the need to develop an animal model of alcoholism. "I was trained as an enzymologist and protein chemist," he explains. "When I was doing postdoctoral research, I found that there were different forms of alcohol dehydrogenase and that there were genetic variants that one could identify in different populations. The variant forms all have different functional properties, and these differences are reflected in differences in alcohol metabolic rate. So that is one of the genetic bases for differences among individuals in their ability to metabolize alcohol."

However, working in an alcoholism clinic in Boston at that time convinced Li that he also needed to study the brain in a laboratory setting. "It became evident to me that individual differences in the enzymes that metabolize alcohol are not in themselves sufficient to understand the biology of the disorder alcoholism." There appeared to be very large individual variations in how the brain responds to a given concentration of alcohol. "Since we cannot easily study the function of the human brain in chemical terms, I needed to develop an animal model that would at least have some relevance to the human condition.”

By comparing the high- and low-alcohol preferring strains of rats, Li not only can identify genes that are important for drinking behavior, but can also study in these animals the neurobiological basis for why they like to drink or do not like to drink. Then, for example, suspecting something wrong with the serotonin system among high-alcohol preferring strains, he can subject these rats to a drug that influences their serotonin system and observe subsequent alterations in their drinking behavior. "An interesting, important feature is that our alcohol-preferring animals are innately less sensitive to the effects of alcohol. They develop tolerance more rapidly to the behavioral impairment produced by alcohol. This seems to be the case in humans as well. So now we are seeing parallels in humans and animals that point to the same kinds of mechanisms, and I think these are very important in our understanding of the condition of alcoholism.”

 Li's laboratory and others at the IU Medical Center are working in collaboration with five other university medical centers to identify the genes responsible for abnormal drinking behavior in humans. "This will allow us to identify individuals who are genetically at high risk for alcoholism. If we are able to show who is at risk, then I think we can do things to help those people. Alcoholism, like diabetes or hypertension, is a complex condition influenced by both environment and genes. If we can identify those who are genetically vulnerable, we can modify the environment to help them."

 Little is known about the specific biological processes and pathways involved in problem drinking and alcoholism in humans. But twin and family studies have convincingly shown that there is a strong genetic influence on susceptibility to alcoholism. Genetically based individual differences also exist in such areas as drinking behavior, sensitivity and tolerance to alcohol, and alcohol elimination rates. Analysis of those differences may help scientists to understand better the possible biological antecedents of problem drinking.”

http://www.indiana.edu/~rcapub/v17n3/p18.html

THE GENE THAT HELPS PROTECT JEWISH POPULATION AGAINST ALCOHOLISM

A study has shown that a genetic mutation carried by at least a fifth of Jews appears to protect against alcoholism.

The same inherited trait is fairly common in Asian people, but is much rarer in white Europeans. The findings could help explain why Israel has one of the lowest levels of alcoholism in the developed world.

The study's author, Dr Deborah Hasin, from Columbia University and New York State Psychiatric Institute, said: "This finding adds to the growing body of evidence that this genetic variation has a protective effect against alcoholism among Jewish groups."

The mutation, called ADH2*2 [a variant of the gene coding for alcohol dehydrogenase], is involved in the way the body breaks down alcohol in the bloodstream.

It is thought to increase levels of the toxic chemical acetaldehyde — a by-product of alcohol metabolism. At high levels, acetaldehyde causes headaches, nausea and flushing.

Almost all white Europeans lack the ADH2*2 variation and so produce less of the by-product. Thus drinking tends to be more pleasurable, increasing the risks of alcoholism.

Past research has shown that the variant is found in 20 per cent of Jewish people. Those with the variant tend to drink less frequently, consume less alcohol overall or have more unpleasant reactions to drink.

The new study, published today in the journal Alcoholism: Clinical and Experimental Research, looked at the relationship between the gene variant and alcoholism among 75 Israeli Jews aged 22 to 65.

Those with ADH2*2 had "significantly lower indicators of alcohol dependence".

The effect was strongest for Ashkenazis, Jews of European background and arrivals from Russia before 1989, and the Sephardics, those of Middle Eastern and North African background, than for more recent immigrants from the former Soviet Union, she said.

Among those with the gene variant, the recent Russian immigrants tended to have a history of much heavier drinking than their Sephardic and Ashkenazic counterparts.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/1407469/Gene-helps-Jews-resist-alcoholism.html



Chagall: Blue Fiddler, 1947

Since my teens I've suspected that I am genetically protected — because the stress earlier in my life would have probably made me a alcoholic and dead by now if something didn't counteract it. What preventing me from turning to alcohol for temporary oblivion was horrible headaches and feeling awful overall — toxified for many hours — worse by far than the initial stress. Higher levels of aldehyde would explain this — and are a better explanation that "breeding out the alcoholism genes." Feeling sick versus feeling wonderful — that makes a huge difference in motivation.

Of course the discovery that some people detoxify alcohol so poorly that the sick feeling keeps them from drinking is again a lesson that one mustn't be proud of not being an alcoholic: it's not an earned merit, not moral superiority, but sheer genetic luck. A recovering alcoholic can take some pride in staying sober, but we who are genetically protected can only feel gratitude for luck.

**

This may be a separate issue, but genes that make a person vulnerable to alcoholism seem to be essentially the same as those that drive overeating in response to stress. Some alcoholics are able to stop drinking, but then they start overeating — especially when life gets stressful. Then they go through an entire carton of ice-cream in one sitting.

Stress never attracts me to food, and I find that heavy feeling in the stomach quite unpleasant. Sure, like everyone I may eat more than is wise if the food is exceptionally tasty. But if something unpleasant happens, my thoughts don’t turn to doughnuts.

Stress can push me toward a compulsive activity, however. Workaholism comes naturally — work is the best escape. Of course when the long hours damage health, or when the activity is clearly displaced, mere busyness, then, as with all addiction, the time of reckoning draws near. Then it’s time to remember the principle of what I call “tender hedonism” — a loving attitude toward the self, and remembering that nothing can dim the light within me. I will develop this later in this blog.   




COMMUNION WITH THE SUBLIME DECREASES INFLAMMATION

We may not, in either common speech or academic philosophy, talk much about the sublime these days, but whatever we call the feeling of being absorbed in art, music, or nature, it turns out to have physical benefits as well as mental and emotional. “There seems to be something about awe,” says professor of psychology Dacher Keltner. “It seems to have pronounced impact on markers related to inflammation.”

In other words, immersing yourself in art or nature is good for the joints, and it could possibly preempt various diseases triggered by inflammation. Keltner and his fellow researchers at UC Berkeley conducted a study which found that “awe, wonder and beauty promote [lower and overall] healthier levels of cytokines“ (especially interleukin 6, IL-6) —proteins that “signal the immune system to work harder.” He goes on to say that “the things we do to experience these emotions—a walk in nature, losing oneself in music, beholding art—have a direct influence upon health and life expectancy.”

Whether we become totally overwhelmed by, or just find deep appreciation in an aesthetic experience, the emotions produced “might be just as salubrious as hitting the gym,” writes Hyperallergic. That may seem a crude way of thinking about the spiritual and emotional grandeur of the sublime, but it brings our physical being into the discussion in ways many philosophers have neglected.

Granted, the researchers themselves admit the causal link is uncertain: it might be better health that leads to more experiences of awe, and not the other way around. But certainly no harm—and a great deal of good—can come from conducting the experiment on yourself.

http://www.openculture.com/2015/08/new-study-immersing-yourself-in-art-music-nature-might-reduce-inflammation-increase-life-expectancy.html

 

 Caspar Friedrich, Wanderer above Fog

This study reminds me of an earlier one that showed a sense of meaning, associated with being a “giver,” was also linked with a healthier immune system and less inflammation. Meaningless “let’s have fun” hedonism, associated with being a “taker,” had no long-term health benefits.

I think one needs a be both a gracious giver and a grateful taker, but with the balance leaning to being a giver. And I have no doubt that meaning is more important than

http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/08/meaning-is-healthier-than-happiness/278250/
 

But what access to the sublime do we have in our distracted era that’s overloaded with both trivia and tragedy? In “The American Sublime,” Stevens despaired:

How does one stand
To behold the sublime,
To confront the mockers,
The mickey mockers
And plaited pairs?

When General Jackson
Posed for his statue
He knew how one feels.
Shall a man go barefoot
Blinking and blank?

Will beauty really save the world, as Dostoyevski said (perhaps his most daring moment)? Stevens almost believes it. Here is my favorite stanza from “Mozart, 1935”:

If they throw stones upon the roof
While you practice arpeggios,
It is because they carry down the stairs
A body in rags.
Be seated at the piano.

The great Swedish poet, Tomas Tranströmer, did indeed sit down every day to play the piano and thus had a ready answer:

Outside New York, a high place where with one glance you take in the
   houses were eight million human beings live.
The giant city is a long flimmery drift, a spiral galaxy seen from the side.
Inside the galaxy, coffee cups are being pushed across the desk, department
   store windows beg, a whirl of shoes that leave no trace behind.
Fire escapes climbing up, elevator doors that silently close, behind
   triple-locked doors a steady swell of voices.
Slumped-over bodies doze in subway cars, catacombs in motion.
I know also – statistics aside – that at this instant in some room
   down there Schubert is being played, and for that person the notes
   are more real than all the rest.

(“Schubertiana,” tr Robret Bly)

~ This is the answer that need not diluted with any “explication”:
at this instant in some room
   down there Schubert is being played, and for that person the notes
   are more real than all the rest.

**

Nietzsche said, “Without music, life would be a mistake.” We can broaden this to “without the sublime, life would be a mistake.” There is a tremendousness to the very fact of being alive in this startling universe. If we miss the wonder of it, if the we don’t connect with nature and the best of culture, then we lose the only paradise we’ll ever have.

Alas, modernity has not been friendly to beauty — though I sense a growing change in attitude, and an ebb in the “esthetics of ugliness.” I’ve been called a starry-eyed optimist. In our times, holding on to beauty has become a heroic enterprise: daring to create beauty, to assert beauty, to behold the sublime. 



 *

As an unwavering atheist — or call me a naturalist, a better term — I’ve been accused of having no values, of not “believing in anything.” But in fact I have a strong sense of the sacred — or perhaps I should say “the sublime.” While in nature there is nothing supernatural, in both nature and culture there is a wealth of the sublime. And in moments of human altruism and heroic accomplishment, in the collective human genius. No one need be starved of the sublime . . . 

And, as a bonus, there’s much to be said for lowering inflammation. 



TENDER HEDONISM

I’ve enjoyed telling people that once I’ve realized that I'm now posthumous (I mean “post-ambition” and “post-achievement”), I also realized that this is my last chance for unbridled hedonism. This creates the image of banquets and orgies à la worst days of the Roman Empire. Of course the only orgies I have in mind are intellectual ones.

But “unbridled” is not the right term. It implies excess, and anything in excess eventually becomes unpleasant. A more precise term for my current state of mind might be “tender hedonism.” It’s a rebellion against not only the ludicrous Catholic masochism (in the poem about St. Thérèse, exemplified by not crossing your feet while sitting or not rubbing your hands together when they get chilled), but also the achievement-oriented asceticism that dominated my post-Catholic years — until my fairly recent awakening.

“Tender” because I want to be tender toward myself. Having understood that there is no need to drive myself mercilessly, I want to be as tender toward myself as I would be toward an animal. Kindness to others follows automatically.

THE LITTLE FLOWER

My childhood sweetheart’s grandmother,
hoping to improve me, lent me
The Story of a Soul
by St. Thérèse “The Little Flower.”
It was a pre-war edition.
The stiff, shiny pages
exhaled a withered odor.

A thin haze of parchment veiled
black-and-white illustrations.
One showed a little girl in a bonnet
pointing to a constellation
resembling the letter T: “Look, Papa,
God has written my name in the stars!”
I began to scan God’s alphabet:
where was the J of my name, drawing me
toward sainthood like a fishing hook?

I learned how Thérèse’s mother,
to break the child’s pride,
said, “I’ll give you a sou
if you kneel down and kiss the ground.”
Four-year-old Thérèse refused.
She was never praised,
never told she was pretty
to shelter her from the sin of vanity.
She wept and prayed out loud
when her older sister went dancing.
On a pilgrimage to Rome she was shocked
to see fellow pilgrims play cards.

And I was shocked that a child would declare,
“I will become a great saint.”
Ambition! I didn’t yet understand.
She played at building little altars,
dressed her doll as a nun.
In a notebook, she entered
her “renunciations” —
as, when she sat in a chair,
she wouldn’t lean back or cross her feet.

Today I read again Thérèse’s story,
seeing how foolish she’d been
most of her brief years —
shivering in her unheated cell
rather than ask for another blanket,
forcing herself even not to rub
together her chilled hands.
Only one renunciation made sense:
she was sweet to a sickly,
crotchety old nun. At last the nun came
to love someone: Thérèse.

Slowly the saint shone through:
she began not to care about
fasting and sacrifices:
“Next to love, these are nothing.”
Like all real saints, she was a heretic,
a fugitive from the god of punishment,
worshiping only the beautiful Jesus
she could love fully, without fear.

In the convent photographs, I saw
the journey in Thérèse’s face —
from a pudgy schoolgirl to a luminous
woman past all petty renunciations,
silent as if dying into music.

But I didn’t know, didn’t understand
any of this when I was nine,
or thirteen, that spring when lilacs again
were calling to me with their moist mouths,
and the nun, a crow, suspicious
of all vanity, exhorted, “Don’t just think
of a pretty name. Choose a saint
who inspires you.”

Did she inspire? I thought she’d been
the best little girl in the world,
the modest Little Flower —
not a heretic in love with Christ.
She kissed the crucifix
not on the feet as is customary,
but on the mouth.

But what did we know about the saints’ love?
The glowering bishop, fingers slippery
with the holy oil,
in nomine patris moved down the row
as girl after girl
took the confirmation name Teresa.


~ Oriana © 2015

In a life that we know won’t be followed by heaven, we need to find “paradise now.” For a start, that means letting go of the cruelties of religions that forbid a variety of innocent pleasures, or pleasure in general — you fill in the details, as Thérèse did, forbidding herself the simple comfort of crossing her feet. But there are needless cruelties in the secular culture as well. It’s not been very long since women discovered the empowering pleasure of comfortable shoes and clothes. They still have a way to go when it comes to renouncing crippling and ultimately meaningless martyrdom.

I remember one of my experiments with “renunciation.” Rather than brush away a fly that landed on my bare arm, I let it walk about, taste, and explore. The sensation was just slightly prickly, and I can’t really explain why every fraction of a second it felt worse. Was it the repugnance rather than the actual sensation? Whatever the reason, it was the least spiritual minute of my life. The fly grew to be a monstrous, tormenting god.

It was a lesson, but aside from that, the suffering was utterly useless. It didn’t build character. It wasn’t a step sainthood. It did nothing good for others. Let’s face it: it was simply idiotic.

Of course letting a fly walk on your arm is nothing next to self-flagellation with hooked whips, wearing a hair shirt and/or barbed wire cinched tight around one’s waist, and other practices of “mortification of the flesh” that were once common among pious Catholics, especially (but not only) monks and nuns. What we now see as pathology parallel with cutting or burning oneself was once regarded as supreme piety. Why god was supposed to be pleased with such “penance” for one’s alleged and often imaginary sins wasn’t quite clear. But once pleasure is forbidden and the body declared a loathsome vehicle of sin, pain becomes attractive.

The opposite of this pathology is tenderness toward oneself. It’s wanting health and deep pleasure for oneself. Unless you have a puppy or a kitten to quickly activate the nurturing impulse, the self is a good place to start. Instead of “putting Jesus at the center of your life,” put your own happiness at the center. Ask yourself what things make you happy, and reach for those.

This is by no means selfish or shallow. It’s one of the deepest meditations you can have because it leads to the discovery of what is important. If, sometimes against the whole thrust of our upbringing, we learn to be tender toward ourselves, affection toward others will follow. As Adrienne Rich said, “Without tenderness, we are in hell.” 

 
 Edvard Munch, Summer Night




Saturday, August 1, 2015

THE “CIRCUMCISED HEART” AND THE IMPORTANCE OF FORBIDDING PLEASURE; FRUCTOSE, CANCER, AND OBESITY; INTROVERSION AND AUTISM; OLIVER SACKS AND END OF LIFE

BLUE MOON
Griffith Observatory, Hollywood
 

“So why isn’t it blue?”
a little girl asks,
squinting through the coin
telescope. The moon rises,
huge, rusty orange,
terracotta almost, Etruscan.

Not a sleek virgin Diana
fleeting half-naked
in the whispering woods,
but a scarred crone.
The rim compasses

a filament of light
only to the forgiving eye;
through the lens, it blisters
with unhealing craters,
like secret violence
behind the Muse’s smile.

*       

Years ago you asked, terrified,
“Suppose we fall in love —
what then?”
Only from an ignorant distance
can love look
ivory-faced, unscarred.

We are children of an ancient fire —
the Eros of creation,
the plasma flower-flames of stars;
the fire sleeping inside rock;
the delicious fire
that enters us when we embrace.

*

On a mountain under the blue moon,
we hold each other above
constellations of street lights,
the great city endless and calm,
shimmering and fusing.

You point out the long boulevards:
Sunset, Hollywood, Santa Monica.
I see then those are holy names.
“What do you wish for?” you ask.
“The future.” You say, “We are next.”

We are next: not dust to dust,
but fire to fire. In between,
love and tears and the blue moon —
fired clay, the mottled hue
of everything that happens.

The observatory’s giant helmet
rotates. Wind brings the smell of sage.
A coyote slips across the road.
He leaps into the dark
through our hearts. We are next.

~ Oriana © 2015

 

Last night’s “blue moon”; photo by M. Kasprzyk

RELIGION/ATHEISM

DID ADAM HAVE A FORESKIN? ST. PAUL’S “CIRCUMCISION OF THE HEART”

At a lodging place on the way, the Lord met Moses and was about to kill him. 25 But Zipporah took a flint knife, cut off her son’s foreskin and touched Moses’ feet with it.“Surely you are a bridegroom of blood to me,” she said. 26 So the Lord let him alone. Exodus 4:24-26, NIV.

“Yahweh could have chosen anything to identify his people as his own, and of all the possibilities, he chose circumcision to be their identity marker. From a literary standpoint, this makes the character of God in the Old Testament at least a little bit creepy, if not grotesque. But then again, they say the higher the initial cost of entrance into a community, the greater will be the retention of its members (ahem).

Christians are fond of saying that we are intelligently designed. I wonder if they feel the same way about the male foreskin?  Is that a part of our intelligent design?  Did God create Adam with a foreskin only to turn around and decide it was gross?

If you believe Adam was a real historical person, and if you believe that he had the same genetic make-up as the rest of his descendants, then you cannot turn around and say this extraneous anatomical feature was a consequence of “The Fall.” And yet the elimination of that feature became a central metaphor for Christian spirituality the moment Paul decided to appropriate it [metaphorically] for the rest of the non-Jewish followers of Jesus.

Paul was stuck with a dilemma: How do you take a religion rooted in primitive barbarism, where everything hinges on the shedding of blood, and make it palatable to a larger, more sophisticated audience? . . . Solution:  You allegorize the practice and tell people that throughout the long history of the Jewish people God was really trying to tell us that we each have a “sin nature” or a “flesh” that we need to have “cut off” by the High Priest of Heaven, presumably with the “sword of the Spirit.” True circumcision, Paul elucidates, is of the heart.

Making the central symbol for his religion a metaphorical procedure rather than a medical one, Paul helped innovate the Christian message into something that people of all ethnicities could buy into. In so doing, he almost singlehandedly saved Christianity from historical obscurity. 

 
Circumcision of Jeuss, Monologion of Basil, 989-994


Think about what this is saying for a second.  The implication here is that we are born not as we should be, and we need someone else to come along and change us into what we are supposed to be. But hold on a second.  Who made us like this?  If we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” by someone other than our biological parents, why are we being blamed for what we are?

Solution: It’s not God’s fault that you’re so messed up, it’s Adam’s fault, or else it’s somehow your own (depending on which kind of church you attend). Just as the male member needs to have divine surgery performed on it before it is pleasing to God, so must human nature be fundamentally altered before it becomes something God can be proud of.

Again this leads me to ask, hypothetically speaking:  Did Adam have a foreskin?  If so, was that a good thing or a bad thing?

A Fundamentally Anti-Human Message

 
I’ve written about this many times before (see my “Anti-humanism: How Evangelicalism Taught Me the Art of Self-Loathing“). I see at the heart of the Christian message a fundamental flaw which sees human beings as essentially broken (see also “We Are Not Broken“), needing to be fixed. But if anything is fundamentally broken, it’s the narrative that requires seeing human beings in the worst possible light, dependent upon a derivative goodness wherein someone else always has to swoop in and save us from ourselves, wretched things that we are. Any message which says that we deserve to be thrown onto a burning trash pile just for being ourselves is a bad message, and it’s not good news.

To me, this is why circumcision is a perfect metaphor for the Christian message. It takes an invasive and violent image, one which requires the shedding of blood, and it tells you that something which is completely natural to you must be cut off in order for you to become pleasing to God.

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/godlessindixie/2015/07/27/why-circumcision-is-a-perfect-picture-of-the-christian-faith/?utm_source=SilverpopMailing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Atheist%2007%2027%2015%20%281%29&utm_content=&spMailingID=49208568&spUserID=MTEwMzMwODA5NzI1S0&spJobID=723903845&spReportId=NzIzOTAzODQ1S0

Oriana: THE IMPORTANCE OF FORBIDDING PLEASURE

The “circumcised heart” is a difficult image to process. What part of our heart are we to sacrifice to the demanding deity? The bible mentions the “foreskin of the heart,” but surely even back in those days of imprecise anatomy, the meaning had to be symbolic.

The function of the foreskin is to protect the glans, the most sensitive part of the penis, the one that receives the most pleasure. Religions have tried to forbid pleasure, or at least to limit it severely — the more severely, the better, it seems, given that only the most demanding and restrictive of fundamentalist churches have shown any growth in membership in recent decades.

Forbidding pleasure is a very important part of religion. If you make a sacrifice (fasting, not eating certain forbidden foods; no sex or sex only in marriage, without contraception; no masturbation), you are investing in that religion, and have to justify the sacrifice to yourself. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the need to assert strong belief.

The gods have always demanded sacrifice. If it happened to be animal sacrifice, let’s remember that sacrificial animals were not cheap.

And speaking of religion’s need to forbid pleasure: Maimonides claimed that the real purpose of circumcision was to decrease masturbation (I have no idea if it’s effective that way).

But let’s not forget that St. Paul was trying to define a “real Jew.” It’s not circumcision that makes a man a real Jew, he said, but circumcision of the heart, not by the knife, but by the Spirit. Nevertheless, the core imagery of cutting something off can’t be erased.

The circumcised heart can’t really follow its bliss. Typically you can’t just fall in love as you please, or eat and drink anything you’d like, or listen to music (depending on the religion), or study any subject that appeals to you. You do your religious duty. Whether you arrive at the point that the duty is always the same as what you WANT to do is debatable — sure, you can get to the point where you really want to fast, but at the peril of anorexia. Conflicts between duty and desire are difficult enough without religion entering the picture, but with religion, more misery is pretty guaranteed. Human nature is seen as fallen and depraved, and the deepest desires can be branded as sinful.

Obviously parents play a big role. If they dream that their daughter should become a nun, they will not send her to ballet classes. If a son steered to enter a seminary develops a serious interest in painting or sculpting, or, heaven forbid, acting, well, then he doesn’t have a circumcised heart. 

(As for the “Feast of the Circumcision” it was at first emphasized as the day on which the blood of Jesus was first shed. But since circumcision — eight days after birth — was also the time when the boy received his name, the holiday got renamed as “The Feast of the Name of Jesus” — and was basically retired.)

But back to the circumcised heart — the heart devoted to religious duty. I remember a TV program that interviewed monks about their lives. All admitted that sex remained a problem. I can’t forget one monk, who said that he thinks a lot about having given up marriage and family life. “I keep wondering what it would be like to have children, whether I might enjoy being a father. Every day I think about it,” he said, almost breaking down. “I hope God is pleased with my sacrifice,” he added with unconcealed bitterness.

The sadness in his face spoke volumes. I thought, Get out, get out, before you’re too old. You could still get married . . .  But what would be put down on his resumé? Back then there was no “Clergy Project,” no organization to help those who want to escape and live a full human life.

So the “circumcision of the heart” is about submission and sacrifice, allegedly voluntary but certainly heavily influenced by factors such as the religion one is born into. What’s being cut away? Freedom.

But do we really have free will, or are even our desires strictly determined? Let’s not even get into that . . . 

 
**


Alas, the idea that there is no condemnation in Christ is itself a fiction. Both Bart Ehrman and Reza Aslan tell how the “Come to Jesus” Fundamentalist summer camps present Jesus as so loving and accepting that it’s not possible not to fall in love with Jesus. But when Ehrman and Aslan began to study the Gospels in the seminary, a different Jesus emerged. That Jesus did judge and condemn and threaten his enemies with hell.

As I said, I am all for cherry-picking from religious traditions. Let’s read only those passages that  inspire us — but with full awareness of that selectivity.

**

HEALTH

 
WHO STILL SMOKES? THE POOR, THE UNEDUCATED, ALCOHOLICS AND THE MENTALLY ILL

In the 1960s, more than 40 percent of Americans smoked. Now, that's down to 18% . Not only are fewer people smoking, heavy smokers are consuming fewer cigarettes.

Smoking is far more common among those living below the poverty level, those with GED-level education, and among American Indian or Alaskan Natives. Rates are also much higher in the lesbian, gay and transgender community.

The Midwest has a higher smoking rate than other areas and nearly double the rate in the West.

West Virginia has the highest rate in the country.

Only 6% of those with post-graduate education smoke.

http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2014/07/31/336386346/amid-smoking-decline-look-whos-still-lighting-up


(From a different source:) Surprisingly, few studies have addressed the association between smoking and drinking despite the fact that 80 to 95% of alcoholics smoke cigarettes. NIAAA estimates that alcoholism is 10 to 14 times more prevalent among smokers than non-smokers. Other studies estimate that roughly 70% of alcoholics are classified as "heavy smokers", smoking more than one pack a day.

And a previous recent blog post explored the link between smoking and schizophrenia.

Alas, there is still a lot of smoking in Europe. The health campaigns against smoking have not been as aggressive or effective. 

 THE DANGERS OF FRUCTOSE

A long time ago a biochemist friend of mine, then a graduate student at UCLA, remarked, “We just discovered that fructose does really horrible things to the arteries.” He made a face: “REALLY horrible. Fructose just destroys the arteries.”

This was long before the campaign against high-fructose syrup. Biochemists knew fructose was a lot more harmful than glucose some twenty year earlier than that.

Here are two fairly recent articles.

FRUCTOSE AND INCREASED RISK OF PANCREATIC CANCER, SMALL INTESTINE CANCER, AND POSSIBLY OTHER CANCERS

    Abstract

Curr Opin Endocrinol Diabetes Obes. 2012 Oct;19(5):367-74. doi: 10.1097/MED.0b013e328357f0cb.
Fructose consumption and cancer: is there a connection?
Port AM1, Ruth MR, Istfan NW.
Author information
Abstract

PURPOSE OF REVIEW:

Cancer cell metabolism is characterized by high rates of glucose uptake and anaerobic glycolysis. Sugar consumption has increased dramatically in the industrialized world, with refined fructose intake skyrocketing upwards in the USA over the past 30 years. Fructose provides an alternative carbon source for glycolysis, entering downstream of glucose and bypassing two key rate-limiting steps. Considering that glycolysis is the major pathway which fuels cancer growth, this review will focus on regulation and flux of glucose versus fructose through this pathway, and consider whether epidemiologic and experimental data support a mechanism whereby fructose might potentiate cancer growth in transformed cells.'

RECENT FINDINGS:

Fructose intake is associated with increased risk of pancreatic and small intestinal cancers, and possibly others. Fructose promotes flux through the pentose phosphate, which enhances protein synthesis and may indirectly increase tumor growth. Fructose treatment is associated with more aggressive cancer behavior and may promote metastasis.

SUMMARY:

Whereas glucose favors overall growth kinetics, fructose enhances protein synthesis and appears to promote a more aggressive cancer phenotype. Fructose has become ubiquitous in our food supply, with the highest consumers being teens and young adults. Therefore, understanding the potential health consequences of fructose and its role in chronic disease development is of critical importance.

FRUCTOSE, OBESITY, AND SUGAR ADDICTION

There are two other things about fructose that make it different from glucose. One is that all the fructose you eat is cleared on its first pass through the liver. In other words, the liver scarfs up all the fructose and immediately converts it to fat, while glucose stays in the bloodstream for some period of time. That’s why we call starches hyperglycemic molecules; they keep glucose levels in your bloodstream high for a long time. That is good for the brain - the brain loves to eat glucose. It’s good for the muscle. But fructose doesn’t actually supply any energy to your brain at all, it doesn’t supply any energy to your muscle; it only gets stored as fat. That’s really quite remarkable, if you think about it. You eat sucrose - one molecule of glucose and one molecule of fructose - that glucose is being used by your muscle and your brain - your brain loves getting that glucose - but the fructose is all just getting stored as fat.

But does it also mean that you get hungrier - you want more sugar if you’re using fructose rather than glucose?

Exactly. You would have to eat exactly twice as much sucrose as starch to get the same amount of energy supplied to your muscle and brain. The brain realizes that, it keeps relaying a feedback so that the more sugar you eat, the more it wants you to eat. Hence the addiction to sweetness. That’s the dangerous thing about this molecule.

You might ask - well why did we evolve such a complicated system? Why does only the liver feed fructose straight into fat? I think it’s quite clear why this happens. We have a symbiotic relationship with plants. Plants want to spread their seeds around, so they surround them with fructose. High-fructose material surrounding the seeds gets us and other animals to eat them and this craving of fructose makes us eat them a lot and we end up carrying their seeds around and spreading them. But at the same time, it gives us an advantage because those fruits ripen just at the end of the growing season, which generally means, in almost all environments, that you’re not going to have much to eat over the next few months. So the best way to survive is to convert everything you eat at that time into fat. That is the long-term storage mechanism that allows you to survive until the next growing season. That’s why fructose was spectacular for us 10,000 years ago, getting us through these famines that we faced every year. But today we don’t have famines and so we just get fat.

And here’s an additional comment. The way we’ve attempted to avoid this problem is by using artificial sweeteners. The problem with those is that a disconnect ultimately develops between the amount of sweetness the brain tastes and how much glucose ends up coming to the brain.

So the brain figures you have to eat more and more and more sweetness in order to get any calories out of it. The consequence of people eating lots of sweeteners, no matter what they are - whether they’re natural or unnatural - is that it increases the addiction for the sweetness. As a consequence, at the end of the day, your brain says, 'OK, at some point I need some glucose here'. And then you eat an entire cake, because nobody can hold out in the end. The only way really to prevent this problem - to break the addiction - is to go completely cold turkey and go off all sweeteners - artificial as well as fructose. Eventually the brain resets itself and you don’t crave it as much.

http://www.biomedcentral.com/1741-7007/12/8

HISTORY

WHY GENERALS THOUGHT THAT WWI WOULD BE OVER IN MONTHS

"We think of the First World War as having its causes in Europe, where the greatest bloodshed and destruction would take place. But several of the illusions that propelled the major powers so swiftly into war had their roots in far corners of the world.

The biggest illusion, of course, was that victory would be quick and easy. “You will be home,” Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany told his troops, “before the leaves have fallen from the trees.” The German campaign plan called for knocking France out of the war in 42 days. The Allies were not quite so arrogant, but were confident of triumph in months, not years.

A second illusion of those who marched proudly into battle in 1914 was that they would be shooting at the enemy, but that he would not be shooting back, or at least not effectively. How else to explain that most soldiers on both sides had no metal helmets? And that millions of French infantrymen, as well as the Austro-Hungarian cavalry, wore combat uniforms of brilliant red and blue? As the war began, troops from both sides advanced over open ground en masse, as if they were not facing repeating rifles and machine guns: bayonet charges by the French, and ranks of young Germans walking, arms linked, toward astonished British soldiers. The British would make plenty of similar suicidal advances of their own in the years ahead.

Where were these illusions born? They came from the way generals cherry-picked previous wars to learn from. A close look at the siege of Petersburg, Va., in the American Civil War, for instance, would have provided a lesson in trench warfare — and a sense of what it meant to be under fire from an early ancestor of the machine gun, the Gatling gun. A similar foretaste of both trench warfare and the power of the machine gun could be had by studying the siege of Port Arthur (now Dalian, China) in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5.

But the men who led Europe into the First World War found it more comforting to look elsewhere — at battles where victory was swift and the enemy had little firepower. In 1914 Europe had not had a major war in more than 40 years and, except for the Russians, almost all officers who had actually seen combat had done so in lopsided colonial wars in Africa and Asia.

Erich von Falkenhayn, for example, chief of the German General Staff for the first two years of the war, had been in the international force that suppressed the anti-Western Boxer Rebellion in China in 1900. Another veteran of that campaign — and of military service in Indochina and Algeria — was Robert Nivelle, later the French commander on the Western Front and the leader of a 1917 offensive that left 120,000 French soldiers dead or wounded and sparked a mutiny. Joseph Joffre, Nivelle’s predecessor, had served in Indochina and Madagascar, and had led an expedition across the Sahara to conquer Timbuktu. Most of the British generals had served in the colonies; when war broke out, Britain had more troops on active duty in India alone than in the British Isles.

Colonial wars seldom lasted long because the German, French and British Armies had modern rifles, machine guns and small mobile artillery pieces, as well as steamboats and railroads that could move men and weapons as needed. The Africans and Asians usually had none of these things.

In 1898, for example, a whole panoply of British officers (including Winston Churchill) who would later fight in Europe were on hand for a battle at Omdurman, in Sudan. The 50,000 Sudanese they faced were armed only with spears, swords and antiquated rifles. In a few hours, the six Maxim machine guns of the far smaller Anglo-Egyptian force fired half a million bullets, leaving nearly 11,000 Sudanese dead and some 16,000 wounded, many fatally. The battle determined the outcome of a war in less than a day.

Yet another illusion on both sides in 1914 was that a key force would be the cavalry. After all, hadn’t cavalry service been a path to military glory for more than 2,000 years? At the Cavalry Club on London’s Piccadilly Circus and its counterparts in Paris, Berlin, St. Petersburg and Vienna, officers eagerly anticipated more of the same. The initial German invasions of France and Belgium, for example, included eight cavalry divisions with more than 40,000 horses — the largest such body ever sent into battle in Western Europe. Tens of thousands of the unfortunate animals were laboriously shipped to the front over great distances: to the Middle East from New Zealand, to Belgium from Canada, to France from India.

Faith in the cavalry also sprang from colonial wars. British horsemen made a charge at Omdurman and did so far more spectacularly a year and a half later in another colonial conflict, the Boer War. Masked by an immense cloud of dust kicked up by thousands of galloping horses, the British successfully charged, almost unscathed, through Boer forces besieging the town of Kimberley, in present-day South Africa. “An epoch in the history of cavalry,” declared the London Times history of that war. “A staggering success,” read a German General Staff report on the battle.

None of the many military observers in the Boer War seemed to notice that one simple defensive measure could have stopped the great charge at Kimberley dead: barbed wire. On the Western Front in 1914, that, along with the machine gun, would spell doom for the cavalry and for the other illusions as well."

*
A reader’s comment:

The criminal stupidity of WWI generals is only one of degree. Our military is always fighting the last victorious war and seldom looking at the ones we lost. We might have learned, for example, from our horrific experiences suppressing and betraying the Philippines in the early 20th century just what guerrilla warfare entailed. That might have limited our disastrous experience in Vietnam. Then again, our disaster in Vietnam seemed to deter us very little in Iraq and Afghanistan. At least Obama---in Syria, Iran,-- has learned caution if our myriad armchair generals have not.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/07/29/opinion/adam-hochschild-why-world-war-i-was-such-a-blood-bath.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&version=Moth-Visible&module=inside-nyt-region&region=inside-nyt-region&WT.nav=inside-nyt-region&_r=1



END OF LIFE AND THE APPRECIATION OF BEAUTY

OLIVER SACKS: A few weeks ago, in the country, far from the lights of the city, I saw the entire sky “powdered with stars” (in Milton’s words); such a sky, I imagined, could be seen only on high, dry plateaus like that of Atacama in Chile (where some of the world’s most powerful telescopes are). It was this celestial splendor that suddenly made me realize how little time, how little life, I had left. My sense of the heavens’ beauty, of eternity, was inseparably mixed for me with a sense of transience — and death.

I told my friends Kate and Allen, “I would like to see such a sky again when I am dying.”

“We’ll wheel you outside,” they said.

I have been comforted, since I wrote in February about having metastatic cancer, by the hundreds of letters I have received, the expressions of love and appreciation, and the sense that (despite everything) I may have lived a good and useful life. I remain very glad and grateful for all this — yet none of it hits me as did that night sky full of stars.

**

I feel sorry for those who have never seen the “real” sky, away from light pollution caused by artificial lights of a city. What a vertigo of glow the countryside sky is on a clear night, when one can see billions of stars, and the edge of the Milky Way is very distinct.

It’s not just the “night sky” up there; it’s the Universe. And we are thrilled by the splendor. As Kant said, “Two things awe me most, the starry sky above me and the moral law within me.” 

Milosz also observed that rather than withdrawing from the world as he grows older, feeling more indifferent toward its beauty, he finds the world more and more beautiful and life ever more sweet, every day precious.

*

It is a beautiful surprise that the fear of death, which used to occasionally torment me when I was younger, has grown much less as I’ve grown older. This is apparently fairly common. The need for the fairy tale of heaven grows less, not more, and one looks at the richness of life one has lived.

THE GUARDIANS

Three women walked into autumn
in a mountain village at night.
The youngest, the beautiful one, said,
“Let’s lie down and look at the stars.”

Oh speech beyond delight:
two women lying down
on the road, while the third
like a mother stood guard.

No star was withheld. A sky like that
needs to be seen lying down.
The pavement felt like a good
firm bed, neither cold nor hard.

In my childhood such wealth
was called a diamond night —
this dome of blazing darkness,
this vertigo of light.

And we were not afraid.
We lay open-eyed
while above us burned
the diamond city of time.

We could wish endless wishes,
but there was no need,
with such luxurious
light in our lives. We lay silent

in the silence of the stars,
letting the kingdom come.


~ Oriana © 2015