Posts tagged ‘debunk’

June 25, 2014

Signs

by lisa st john

 

Wrong-Way-Go-Back-Sign-K-7425

Sign : something (such as an action or event) which shows that something else exists, is true, or will happen.

If only I had seen this sign before I got married at 17. Or if someone had shown it to me before I said, “yes” on so many other bizarre occasions. Oh well. They probably did show me. I probably did see a sign. I just ignored it. I don’t think we are meant to pay attention to most signs.

If a sign’s purpose is to show that “something else exists” then isn’t everything a sign? It’s like language. There is no understanding without metaphor—comparison. Semantics demands it. This science of signs is based on the fact that, “everything is created from the interaction of three things: real objects, signs and interpretations of signs” (Pierce qtd. Carreira). This is reality.

 

DANGER! MEN IN TREES

Out here in the country, this was a common sign before the more politically correct versions came out. While we should very well be afraid of men in trees, I think the actual meaning was more like, “watch out for the construction/tree trimming going on up ahead.” If we really want to get particular, then we must realize that, “Things do not exist unless they exist in relationship with something else. In fact, things do not exist at all. Relationships exist. There are no individual things. The existence of anything is always contingent upon something else” (Carreira in the fantastic website called Philosophy is Not a Luxury: dedicated to the profound utility of questioning reality).

 

This is why obvious signs baffle me. “Do not iron while wearing shirt.” Really?

 

Then again, if a sign’s purpose is to show that “something is true” what about the foolishness of predictability and superstition? I tripped as I left the porch. A sure “sign” that I should have stayed home. A crop circle sign? Proof of aliens or bored humans with tractors and lasers? If a sign’s purpose is to show that “something will happen” then I better start reading my horoscope. Apparently I am a Virgo but in other cultures I am a snake. So I am a “virgin” who has the “sensual art of seduction down.” M-kay.

 

The only thing without a sign is Zero. How magical is mathematics? Our friend Wikipedia states that, “In mathematics, the concept of sign originates from the property of every non-zero real number to be positive or negative. Zero itself is signless…The number zero is neither positive nor negative, and therefore has no sign. In arithmetic, +0 and −0 both denote the same number 0, which is the additive inverse of itself.”

 

Poetry!

 

The true irony rests in the phrase “Sign of the Times” which can either be the biblical nonsense or the name of an interesting website that purports to be an “experiment” that arranges news items in relation to quantum physics.

 

In a world where, “More people believe in angels and the devil than believe in the theory of evolution” methinks we have a problem actually seeing signs.

 

You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It’s just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.

Paulo Coelho

 

January 20, 2014

Mysteries

by lisa st john

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all

true art and science. –Albert Einstein

The massage therapist has little hands coming out of the wall on which to hang clothes. There is a ceramic hand—palm up—on her desk where she keeps her business cards. There is a smoldering hand holding incense and a pair of hands holding up books. I am so grateful that urologists and gynecologists do not decorate their offices this way. I don’t know if I want to hang my bra on a penis or take a business card out of a vagina. Odd the things that make up functional art.

Mystery machine cartoon version

And are artful functions the same thing? How long did it take us to put wheels on coolers or cup holders on strollers? A mystery.

Art and science, fact and fiction, truth and belief. These dichotomies keep me up at night1.

Other functional mysteries raise the following questions: Why don’t all winter cars come with retractable plows? We use liquid helium (at a temperature of NEGATIVE 452.4 Fahrenheit) to cool the superconductivity of a magnetic field in order to see inside the brain, but we haven’t figured out how to see if I have cervical cancer other than a (frighteningly medieval) speculum?

Sad mysteries include the fact (yes, a mystery can also be a fact—hence my confused brain activity) that over 60% of African elephants were slaughtered from poaching between 2002 and 2011 and China accounts for nearly half of that population killed each year. Apparently, however, we need to strengthen our economic relations with them.

A true mystery is why even after all the scientific proof says that homeopathy is a scam, the United States alone spends 34 BILLION dollars on alternative medicine. Tim Minchin’s lovely, animated diatribe on this subject is certainly worth watching.

An exciting mystery is that both light and matter can be either (OR BOTH) waves or particles. WTF squared, that’s what I think about that.

Some Hollywood mysteries that never occur in real life (yet I am fond of) are listed below.

I want:
… an envelope delivered to my table at an outdoor cafe that has a ringing cell phone inside of it.
… to get stuck in an elevator for hours at a time alone with some hottie.

to jump through a large glass window and roll out onto the sidewalk.

to beat the shit out of someone trying to attack me (preferably kicking a weapon out of his hands in the process).

And finally, should we not leave the artistic mystery of the creative process alone and just let it (like the poem it produces) “not mean, but be?” More on ars poetica and sifting through the currently trendy quantification of artistic genius another time.

p.s.: Is it any wonder that Scooby-Doo was my favorite cartoon? It was always the guy in a mask–real monsters don’t exist.

1Not literally; I sleep like a rock thanks to the miracle of chemistry. These ideas do, however, keep my mind alive at inopportune times.

March 3, 2011

Unicorns

by lisa st john

“Oh lord, wontcha buy me a Mercedes Benz, my friends all drive horses, I mu–”
Wait…. That’s not right.

There are so many things in the world that are not right. Scumbags tricking gullible people into psychic readings, psychos spreading the word about how the Holocaust never happened (or wasn’t as bad as all that); even mainstream chain pharmacies are selling homeopathic “drugs”! I’m mortified by a lack of intelligence—embarrassed by rampant credulity.

With brilliant minds like Michael Shermer and James Randi out there, why is the general public so ignorant?! Skeptic Magazine is easily accessible. Why don’t more people read it? Because we want to believe in stupid stuff, that’s why. We aren’t as smart as we think we are. Look how long it took us to invent wheels for coolers! Jeesh. Sometimes I think George Carlin was right when he said that, “We like to think we’ve evolved and advanced because we can build a computer, fly an airplane, travel underwater, we can write a sonnet, paint a painting, compose an opera. But you know something? We’re barely out of the jungle on this planet. Barely out of the fucking jungle. What we are, is semi-civilized beasts, with baseball caps and automatic weapons.”

Belief and faith and knowledge and truth are no more synonymous than beagles and toads. By the way, why are the words fur and hair synonymous? I pet my cat’s fur. I don’t pet his hair. That sounds weird. But I get cat hair on my clothes. I don’t get cat fur on my clothes. An article in Scientific American explains that there is no difference between fur and hair. Humph. Not satisfied. Oh, I know. I’ll Google fur versus hair and see what happens. There we go! A non-peer reviewed crap website that proves me right! Fur IS different than hair. Guess I will “believe” that one.

Go ahead and believe whatever you want. Just don’t go spewing it as knowledge. Interpret the world as you see fit, but don’t try and tell me that Matthew Arnold’s famous poem “Dover Beach” is about unicorns. IT’S NOT! And no. Poetry is not about “whatever you want it to be about.” While there is no sacred hidden meaning available only in the teacher’s edition of some archaic textbook, there are correct and incorrect interpretations. This post is turning into Part One. See you soon for Part Two.