Free will in the universe of Dune

I assure you that the ability to view our futures can become a bore. Even to be thought of as a god, as I certainly was, can become ultimately boring. It has occurred to me more than once that holy boredom is good and sufficient reason for the invention of free will.

In light of my last post (How did I get here? Eating chocolate on the path of destiny), in which I pondered the ideas of free will and destiny, I chuckled when I came across these lines a few days later while reading. These sentences are from "God Emperor of Dune," by Frank Herbert. It's the fourth novel in the original Dune series.

Not familiar with Dune? I can't recommend the novels enough. I was never really into sci-fi as a reader, and this is probably some of the heaviest the genre offers. But I find it a fascinating, intoxicating exploration of themes that include religion, technology, politics, human evolution, economics, and more. Basically the kind of stuff I find myself fascinated by in real life.

A little context for the above quote: The "god emperor" the title refers to is, like his father before him, capable of casting his mind into the infinite possibilities of the future, exploring each and every decision, event, and seeming bit of minutia that led to it. This is part of the reason he comes to be worshiped across the universe during this reign — of several thousand years.

Quite ironically, these sentences were opposite another section of text that I thought worth posting at my other blog, Tangled in Wires: The 'God Emperor of Dune' on technology.

How did I get here? Eating chocolate on the path of destiny

Laugh if you will, but "Forrest Gump" is still one of my favorite movies ever.

One of the most memorable moments comes at the end of the movie as Forrest stands in front of Jenny's grave and ponders humanity's path through life. In that scene he reconciles the philosophies of his mother ("Life is like a box of chocolates: You never know what you're going to get") and Lt. Dan Taylor (predestination, or just destiny, if you will) by suggesting that "Maybe it's a little bit of both, happening at the same time."

In the erstwhile days of my youth when I didn't have to ponder topics more immediate and grounded, I often wondered about this sort of thing, too. I also found myself thinking, like Forrest, it might be both happening at the same time.

I've been pondering this anew as I reflect on my life's path over the last 10 years, and the key events that led me to Ithaca. That, in turn, has allowed me to be geographically closer to my mother during — as it's become painfully clear — the wane of her time with us.

Skillful navigation or blind marching?

Was I just riding the waves of interests, chance, and opportunities to get here, or was my path set long before? Consider, as I have: 

• Was I meant to take that Intro to Journalism course my final year of undergraduate, and realize, "Hey, maybe I'd want to do this down the line, after I get the dirt out of my blood as an archaeologist?" I got rejected from the Intro to Creative Writing course and NEEDED the upper-level writing credits to graduate.

• Was I meant to spend nearly five years at the museum only to decide to go back to school for a master's degree in journalism when I did? 

• Was it chance the opportunity at The Saratogian came up when it did, only three months after I started my first job as a newspaper reporter? My nearly-three years in Saratoga Springs were instrumental in attaining the experience and skills that made me a qualified candidate for the job I ultimately landed in Ithaca. As grueling as those years were at times, I'm beyond thankful for them.

• Did the opportunities I pursued for employment in Ithaca open up just as it became apparent the Universe wasn't going to let my mom be free of cancer? My wife and I had been talking in earnest about returning to the area, but that really motivated me to push the job hunt into gear.

I could go even further and ponder why the only real talent I've ever considered myself to have is  writing, or why my Intro to Journalism professor was a Newhouse grad, as was my best friend's brother, etc.

Honestly, you could go nuts trying to connect all those pieces in some fashion.

As to the question of whether we bounce through life or have an invisible, set path before us: I'm nowhere closer to an answer than I was as a teen, nor any closer than Forrest.

I guess it doesn't really matter because I truly believe I landed the job I was meant to. Being here, and closer to my mom, and my family, and some of my oldest friends (an hour's drive one-way as opposed to over two hours) has been the greatest blessing of my life to date. As furious as I want to be with the Universe at times, that fact tempers my anger.

Finding little hope in the American Cancer Society's 'More Birthdays' campaign

Below is one of the TV spots for the "More Birthdays" campaign of the American Cancer Society. It's self-explanatory.

Very few things truly offend me. This commercial, and the one that immediately preceded it featuring another celebrity, came the closest anything has in a long time. I saw it as I stood in the rec room of my childhood home — getting ready to take my leave after a short weekend visit — while chatting with my terminal mother as she rested on the couch.

Maybe it was me, but the silence between us as we watched felt awkward. We resumed our conversation as if uninterrupted when the commercials were done.

Aggressive cancer that retreats and then comes back, retreats and then comes back, retreats in then comes back; that tests your faith; it strains your sense of hope. When your loved one has reached the point beyond treatment, where every single day is a gift, when a phone call you've dreaded your entire life — but  now know to be inevitable — could come at any time, a message like "More Birthdays" rings very hollow, no matter how much you want it to resonate.

I do hope for more birthdays for those patients out there at war with cancer, I truly do. My mother turned 61 in November. If we even get to celebrate 62, I have no idea how empty that celebration may feel.

An effort in futility: Arguing God in article comments

It's practically a morbid fascination that prompts me to read the comments left under an article at most news/information sites, especially when it's anything about religion, and especially when that religion is Christian.

Case in point, here are a few screen grabs of comments left under this post at CNN's Belief blog. I think these sum up the spectrum of responses one generally encounters under pieces of this sort, and is hopefully illustrative of the sheer silliness in trying to wage the rational vs. religious debate in this type of forum. (And if it's not illustrative, you probably shouldn't be reading my blog. On second thought, maybe you should be.)

Click each photo to enlarge for legibility:

I actually kind of dig what Wayshower writes. It probably comes closest
to lining up with my own thoughts. I also like how the second commenter
starts his contribution with "Roar!!!" Silly. And while the third comment
is unoriginal in delivery, it's got just the right amount of snark to make
me chuckle.

Proof that you can bang out your well-reasoned, nine-sentence, "outside the
box of socialization" argument and still not change the opinion of
someone whose mind is already set. Pithy response, too, which
also earned a chuckle.

The first commenter is someone who has decided to focus exclusively on
the bad side of religion. That's probably the only angle of attack he has.
The second comment uses some highly specious reasoning to back up his
assertions about the Bible's validity. And the third commenter had me
until he brought up proselytizing, which strikes me as less an act of
morality and one rooted in the the very human realm of politics.

I don't have anything to add to the CNN post other than this: On a very general level, universalism, as it's defined in the post, appeals to me and is what I believe (though not necessarily the specific details of Heaven as traditionally envisioned in the Judeo-Christian view). However, I do like to think that the truly wicked and evil face some sort of punishment after they leave this plane of existence.

Empathy over apathy: The immediate benefit of prayer

I'll let theologians and scientists argue about what happens when people pray. The former might assert that prayer creates a direct line to a higher power, the latter that it produces electrical and chemical reactions in the brain that put the mind in a certain relaxed state.

In recent months, I've come to find another, more immediate effect of prayer: mindfulness.

I'm guilty of getting ensnared by my day-to-day life and as a result, I put the majority of my thoughts and efforts toward what I'm doing, what I should be doing, what I want to be doing, etc. I'm guilty of wasting too much time in idle pursuits, or vegging out after a day of work, essentially wallowing in ambivalence

Sometimes, however, I recognize the need to stop and focus on the issues affecting others in my life about whom I care. Sometimes, I feel the need to go the extra step to intentionally broadcast my hopes and well wishes for those people to the universe, to the higher power I believe is out there. Whatever it is. This is the act I call prayer.

When I do that, I become acutely aware that life is so much more than what's going on in MY daily existence. It helps bolster empathy and dispel apathy. I focus on the challenges, setbacks, or illness others are facing, and my desire for their happiness, good fortune, and health. Or, barring that, their peace of mind, comfort, and contentment. Sometimes, I actively imagine sending the love I have to that person directly, across the span between our physical bodies.

Does any of it work? Is there a higher power actually receiving these thoughts and feelings, and acting on them? Are those well wishes and all that love being piped to the recipients for which I intend them?

Again, I'll leave it to believers and non-believers to hash out. Personally, I feel I've had prayers answered and prayers ignored. And that's OK, perhaps to be expected, even. Mindfulness of others is both humane and fundamental for human existence. For me, it's the most basic essence of prayer, the core that remains even after all religious trappings or rational explanations have been stripped away.

That's something valuable in itself.

Evolution debunked: Still no sign of those half-monkey men

Here's one I missed from last week: Apparently Glenn Beck took to the airwaves of his radio show and used the fact he's never seen a "half-monkey, half-person" as a basis to question the theory of evolution. Now, this item at The Atlantic Wire, and the comments underneath it, cover all the points I would have wanted to make here: 1) Our closest genetic relatives are apes, not monkeys (yes, there's a significant difference); 2) There actually WAS an extended effort to promote the fact that the world is round; and 3) Beck's probably never seen God, before, either, yet has no problem accepting the idea that He's up there; 4) How does this guy have such unfettered access to the broadcast spectrum?

If anything, people like Beck and his zealous ilk (on both the left and right) are solid evidence of devolution: Of rational discourse, American education, scientific AND religious literacy, and a well-informed society.

The secret brain of God

Dan Brown's novel "The DaVinci Code" exploded in the mid-2000s, smack in the middle of the culture wars that motivated me to start this blog. But the first outing of Brown's protagonist Robert Langdon in "Angels and Demons" was set in the heart of the science vs. religion debate.

The novel centered around the centuries' old spat between the Illuminati (in Brown's version, founded by the enlightened scientific minds of the Rennaissance) and the stodgy Catholic church of the era. It was an entertaining read (always one to be chronological, I read it when "DaVinci" was big, but didn't love it so much to really want to read the sequel) -- as were the films.

It's the easy comparison to make given this story about two John Hopkins researchers who believe Michaelangelo painted a subtle, hidden image of the human brain in one of his images of God as depicted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. (Indeed, the original post at Time's Newsfeed starts with: "Calm down, Dan Brown — it isn’t fodder enough for a new book. But a new study alleges Michelangelo painted a subtle message into his famous fresco.") In fact, the article cites evidence of other such hidden images in the master's work for the church.

Why? From the "Telgraph" article that Time linked to:

By merging an image of God with a human brain, Michelangelo may have been seeking a covert outlet to show off his anatomical knowledge at a time when picking apart cadavers was frowned on by the Roman Catholic Church.

Alternatively, he may have been alluding to the wisdom of the Almighty or – more dangerously - hinting at his growing belief that ordinary Christians had the wit and intelligence to directly commune with God, rather than pray to Him indirectly through the Church.

That was an idea that would have been seen as heresy, particularly as the fresco is situated directly above the chapel altar.

Very mysterious. Here's the comparison image from the "Telegraph." Follow the link above for more photos of the Sistine Chapel panel in question.

Well ... I guess I see it. Maybe. Let me squint ...

This is a fascinating story. To be fair, though, the skeptical part of me can't help but think about the reification principle of Gestault Theory, that basically says our brains perceive shapes and images even when no such image has been drawn.

It's interesting to reflect on how some of the "science and faith" themes from 500 years ago still resonate today.