Anthony Brazabon, Dublin street preacher, blogger and podcast host is disappointed at the lack of debate on young earth creationism.
So I've volunteered my services.
I'll let you know if he gets back to me.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Book Review: God's Undertaker
I went in with high hopes - my initial readings on evolution were prompted back in 2003, when I studied evolutionary computation. Lennox's background in mathematics would surely mean he could speak with authority on this area.
He was born on the same island as I, a coincidence of birth which admittedly does not make him more likely to be correct, but caused me to warm to him nonetheless.
He's also a talented linguist, speaking Russian, German, Spanish and French in addition to his native English. He has been published and has given lectures in many languages.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Storytelling (Van der Broek and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission)
Still, stories are important. They enable us to share our understanding of this world, impart important lessons and simplify topics to convey important details. Sometimes artistic licence is used. Sometimes some facts are sacrificed to make the story more memorable, or to take students to a more accurate picture of real world phenomena.
One example is atoms. In school I learned that electrons orbit the nucleus in much the same way as a planet orbits a star. This is a very useful way of thinking about atoms, but it's also wrong - the electron is more of a fuzzy cloud.
I've spoken to many biblical inerrantists, but I've yet to encounter one who thinks that the parable of the prodigal son involved an actual son, father, fatted calf and brother.
We can look at stories that are fiction, but intended to convey an important message. We can also look at stories that are thought to hold factual accuracy in the highest regard. Today I'd like to look at a story that seems to have jumped between the two categories.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Does God heal today?
This is the title of the 13th chapter in Nicky Gumbel’s “Alpha: Questions of Life” book and it appeals to my literal mind. It can be rare to find verifiable claims in this literary genre; it was refreshing to see Gumbel nail his colours to the mast as a believer in faith healing and to provide a case study for those who are unconvinced.
For those of you who don’t know the Alpha course is a charismatic introduction to Christianity, typically held over several evenings. Bear Grylls speaks highly of it. I speak highly of it. You’ll meet pleasant people, get free dinner and interesting conversation. I have issues with the accuracy of some of the course material, but not with the genuine, good-natured people I met on the course. I even enjoyed Nicky Gumbel's jokes and am somewhat jealous of his rhetorical skills. One of the evenings includes a discussion of faith healing, and the story of interest begins with “There are so many wonderful stories of God healing that it is difficult to know which to give as an example.”
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Over the Moonies
I've spotted a new addition, a small, woven basket that Moses would have found cramped, containing perhaps four books written by or on the Reverend Sun Myung Moon with a sign saying “Messiah? You Decide!” Suspended a convenient four foot or so above the ground, it’s attended by a pamphlet distributing member of the Unification Church – a Moonie, to you or I.
My fellow pedestrians seemed to be voting unanimously with their feet as to the Christology of the basket occupant. I decided to hear her out.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tick Tock
Vinnie Tuscavedo was the sort of guy that would hand a girl a five dollar bill with which to buy him a pack smokes, and tell her to use the change to pick up something 'nice' for herself. Then, if she came home without a new dress, he'd smack her around for disrespecting his generosity.
He was worse with us men. He’d scream and holler, leaping out of bed to take a swing. His mind was still locked in the sixties. I’m not talking about tie-dyed t-shirts and the summer of love here, I’m talking race riots, and Vinnie wasn’t backing the winning side. Vinnie’s an angry man with angry ideas. Over the years we learned to only send in white nurses with his meals, and to have a few of us guys waiting outside with sedatives in case anything kicks off.
That’s why I only see him when he’s sedated, or about to be sedated. We’ve never had a conversation and he’s never said a civil word to me. Everyone else looks peaceful when they’re knocked out, but Vinnie’s different. The hate in him has a knack of staying awake. His hands twitch into fists every couple of minutes. Makes his watch jangle. I swear I’ve seen the hair on his knuckles stand up, and his wrinkles are so deep he’s always frowning. Aggressive breathing too; sounds like he’s growling. He’s got a full head of white hair, so thick you’d never see his scars. Life aint fair. I’ve been going bald since I hit twenty, and this guy who’d as soon throw a punch as say hello aint even thinning yet.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sathya Sai Baba – Death of a God
A true story, posted here as I have no other home for it:
In 1993 Sathya Sai Baba proclaimed his mastery of death, saying “...I can live for as long as I please. I can also terminate it at will. It is my will that decides and not any other person. The reason is my purity, selflessness, and divinity.” [1]
Motivated no doubt by an urge to avoid undue confusion in the medical community he agreed to limit his godly lifespan to nine decades and change. [2] For reasons time did not permit him to explain his cold and lifeless corpse now lies in state, fawned over by half a million devotees who have undertaken considerable journeys to pay respects to a god man who mistimed his death by almost a decade.
This was not the 84 year old spawn-of-a-virgin’s first brush with death. In 1971 he raised Walter Cowan from the dead not once, not twice, but three times in quick succession,[3] through the improbable method of guided dreaming and materializing a sacred ash formed of burnt cow dung. In 1963 he disappeared from public view for eight days. His immortality had been impertinently questioned by a stroke and four rapid heart attacks. Shortly after emerging from a world renowned hospital he revealed that he suffered the illnesses voluntarily, willing the damage upon himself to spare an unnamed follower.[4] Apparently no western medical care caused his rejuvenation; eyewitnesses attest to his miraculous healing through the self-application of water droplets to his paralyzed thigh.
Water is not the only liquid Sai Baba massaged betwixt male legs. Both the BBC[5] and Denmark’s national broadcast company have produced documentaries on the widespread allegations of sexual abuse and rape of young boys that have dogged his career as fervently as his most devoted followers. The deity Baba caused miraculous oil to spurt forth from his person and then massaged this sweet smelling liquid into his victims’ pelvic and crotch region in a healing ritual of his own creation.[6]
That this odious pederast’s organs slowly failed over the course of the past month is a positive development. That his last eight years of parasitic life were immobile and enfeebled by a combination of failing brain and broken hip, despite his divine predictions to the contrary, brings me some measure of joy. He will continue to decay in the Indian sun and probability is against his proposed reincarnation. Yet his followers, if anything, have grown more devoted. The queue to stand within range of his rotting flesh is a slow-moving mile and I am reliably informed that India does not possess a season in which it is pleasant to undertake such a stroll. Despite only leaving India on one occasion he is credited with worldwide apparitions and healings. He is believed to have floated by the cockpit of a damaged aircraft, telepathically restarted the engine and hovered alongside it – presumably buoyed by his theatrically oversized hair – for twenty minutes to allow a safe landing. [7] Trinidad and Tobago – a country I honestly thought knew better – has expressed the sadness of thousands of their citizens via their acting president. India (a nation in which I must seriously reconsider my investments) has declared two days of mourning and is lowering their flag as a sign of respect to a man that has swindled himself an empire of 5.5 billion (GBP) in a rather poor country.[8]
He died as he lived – a charlatan, a fraud and a pervert. His estimated fifty million followers are already descending into infighting and conspiracy theories[9]. The stories are tweaking, evolving and adjusting; already we see modifications to official websites. What can we learn from practitioner of autodeification?
Anatole France once said “If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing” and although our paths never crossed I feel she would not object to me extrapolating. We have fifty million followers who on some level accept his divinity, reincarnation, identity as both the Lamb of God and reincarnated Sufi saint, ability to fly, raise the dead, telepathically repair engines, absorb the injuries of others, heal through molestation and defeat death. He also had a sideline in producing Seiko watches.
Does this mean that Mohammed did not fly into heaven on a horse? That Joe Smith did not translate a tale of evil Native Americans killing holy white folk? That John Frum will not emerge from the Yasur volcano and deliver cargo to his followers? Not necessarily. That charlatans exist does not preclude honesty. But when examining supernatural claims, we should always remember Sai Baba and the credulity of his followers.
In 1993 Sathya Sai Baba proclaimed his mastery of death, saying “...I can live for as long as I please. I can also terminate it at will. It is my will that decides and not any other person. The reason is my purity, selflessness, and divinity.” [1]
Motivated no doubt by an urge to avoid undue confusion in the medical community he agreed to limit his godly lifespan to nine decades and change. [2] For reasons time did not permit him to explain his cold and lifeless corpse now lies in state, fawned over by half a million devotees who have undertaken considerable journeys to pay respects to a god man who mistimed his death by almost a decade.
This was not the 84 year old spawn-of-a-virgin’s first brush with death. In 1971 he raised Walter Cowan from the dead not once, not twice, but three times in quick succession,[3] through the improbable method of guided dreaming and materializing a sacred ash formed of burnt cow dung. In 1963 he disappeared from public view for eight days. His immortality had been impertinently questioned by a stroke and four rapid heart attacks. Shortly after emerging from a world renowned hospital he revealed that he suffered the illnesses voluntarily, willing the damage upon himself to spare an unnamed follower.[4] Apparently no western medical care caused his rejuvenation; eyewitnesses attest to his miraculous healing through the self-application of water droplets to his paralyzed thigh.
Water is not the only liquid Sai Baba massaged betwixt male legs. Both the BBC[5] and Denmark’s national broadcast company have produced documentaries on the widespread allegations of sexual abuse and rape of young boys that have dogged his career as fervently as his most devoted followers. The deity Baba caused miraculous oil to spurt forth from his person and then massaged this sweet smelling liquid into his victims’ pelvic and crotch region in a healing ritual of his own creation.[6]
That this odious pederast’s organs slowly failed over the course of the past month is a positive development. That his last eight years of parasitic life were immobile and enfeebled by a combination of failing brain and broken hip, despite his divine predictions to the contrary, brings me some measure of joy. He will continue to decay in the Indian sun and probability is against his proposed reincarnation. Yet his followers, if anything, have grown more devoted. The queue to stand within range of his rotting flesh is a slow-moving mile and I am reliably informed that India does not possess a season in which it is pleasant to undertake such a stroll. Despite only leaving India on one occasion he is credited with worldwide apparitions and healings. He is believed to have floated by the cockpit of a damaged aircraft, telepathically restarted the engine and hovered alongside it – presumably buoyed by his theatrically oversized hair – for twenty minutes to allow a safe landing. [7] Trinidad and Tobago – a country I honestly thought knew better – has expressed the sadness of thousands of their citizens via their acting president. India (a nation in which I must seriously reconsider my investments) has declared two days of mourning and is lowering their flag as a sign of respect to a man that has swindled himself an empire of 5.5 billion (GBP) in a rather poor country.[8]
He died as he lived – a charlatan, a fraud and a pervert. His estimated fifty million followers are already descending into infighting and conspiracy theories[9]. The stories are tweaking, evolving and adjusting; already we see modifications to official websites. What can we learn from practitioner of autodeification?
Anatole France once said “If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing” and although our paths never crossed I feel she would not object to me extrapolating. We have fifty million followers who on some level accept his divinity, reincarnation, identity as both the Lamb of God and reincarnated Sufi saint, ability to fly, raise the dead, telepathically repair engines, absorb the injuries of others, heal through molestation and defeat death. He also had a sideline in producing Seiko watches.
Does this mean that Mohammed did not fly into heaven on a horse? That Joe Smith did not translate a tale of evil Native Americans killing holy white folk? That John Frum will not emerge from the Yasur volcano and deliver cargo to his followers? Not necessarily. That charlatans exist does not preclude honesty. But when examining supernatural claims, we should always remember Sai Baba and the credulity of his followers.
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