Chapter 2 - My Skeptical Inquiry

Review of The Creator and the Cosmos: third in a series...

First, the Headmaster must apologize for the sarcastic tone of this chapter's review. There is simply no way to avoid it - he tried and failed. No suprise, given that he laughed out loud through the entire chapter. He finds it exceedingly difficult to treat this material with any respect whatsover, and therefore what may come off as sarcasm and disrespect to those who have not read the book, might actually be called impressive restraint by those who have.

This very short and wholly unconvincing chapter is simply meant to satisfy a requirement - the establishment of the author's "I am a converted skeptic" credentials. The author unabashedly tells us that by age 15, having researched the cosmos exhaustively, he'd drawn the following conclusion: "If the universe arose out of a big bang, it must have had a beginning. If it had a beginning, it must have had a beginner." This old classic might have a special place in the Museum of Circular Logic, if such a place existed. Taken by itself, it comes as no surprise that someone of faith might use circular logic. But taken in context of the follow-on section, the statement reveals that the author possesses one magnificent set of cosmos-sized cohones.

Up to this point, the author has painted us a misty-eyed picture of an impoverished young boy seeking the truth through his beloved books. In this subsection, we peer over the boy's shoulder as he grapples with the contradictions - here, he observes that history books show the peoples of the world taking religion very seriously, and yet here he observes that European philosophers of the Enlightenment largely discount religion. What is a poor boy to do? Of course, he looks for insight in those philosophical works, but rejects them after finding only "circular logic". At this point the headmaster, after recovering from the reflexive GASP, paused to reflect on the sheer SIZE of the cohones required to make this statement, a mere five sentences after the author penned an absolute circular masterpiece of his own.

But let's recover and move on. The boy decides that he must be fair, and thus rather than build a case on such second-hand resources as history and philosophy books, he resolves to read "the holy books of the world's major religions". He reasoned that if God the Creator were to communicate to his creations, He would do so in a clear and consistent manner, and in a way that was different from the way humans communicate. He tells us that "the first several holy books" confirmed his hunch that they were not written by a Creator, because they contained statements at odds with established history and science, and they were written in an esoteric, mysterious and vague style. He declines to enlighten us as to which holy books these were. Instead, he relates that he then stumbled upon the Bible. Seriously. It is laugh-out-loud ludicrous.

Now, we dispense with the formalities and get to the heart of the matter - the Bible. It begins to feel as though you're watching a typical porn film. (The headmaster has never seen one, but he's heard about them) The "setup" presents a thin situational drama with poor acting that leads very quickly to the action everyone is waiting for. Makes one wonder why they don't just dispense with the whole "setup" in the first place. And that's the way this book feels.

Anyway, finally we get to the "action". As you might suspect, the author found the Bible's passages to be simple, direct and specific. He was "amazed" with the quantity and detail of historical and scientific references. He claims that it took him an entire night just to investigate the first chapter, where he found that instead of "another bizarre creation myth", the chapter contained a journal-like record of the earth's initial conditions - correctly described from the standpoint of astrophysics and geophysics, followed by a summary of the sequence of changes through which the Earth came to be inhabited by living things and humans.

For anyone who's read Genesis, it seems puzzling that someone (especially someone with a PhD) might find anything even remotely resembling accepted scientific theory. God creates the sky and Earth, and darkness covers everything. Then God says "Let there be light". Then He divides the light into night and day. etc etc

The Headmaster can't go further - to do so is pointless. The wording in Genesis is certainly simple and direct, though absolutely NOT specific and NOT an accurate description of the science of big bang. You see where this is going, I'm sure. This is a setup for a) cherry-picking science to fit biblical passages; and b) cherry-picking biblical passages that suit known science; and c) ignoring completely any biblical passages that might prove contradictory or unscientific; and d) providing the necessary mental gymnastics to put it all together. et voila - we have "scientific proof" of creation, straight from the Bible.

*sigh*... If nothing else, it should be interesting to see how we get from here to there. Stay tuned...

Chapter One - The Awe Inspiring Night Sky

Review of The Creator and the Cosmos: second in a series...

Here the author explains the fascination that the night sky has held for all of humanity, for all of time. Simple enough. However, he takes some giant leaps along the way. In the first, he explains that if the universe has no creator, then life has no meaning and morality is irrelevant. In other words, why not just go slit our collective wrists? He offers no explanation for this conclusion, and the Headmaster is left to assume that it simply reflects the author's personal opinion. Thus, from this perspective Mr. Ross rightly concludes that cosmology has enormous implications for philosophy and theology.

The author reveals a positively puzzling perspective of science that goes like this: researchers gather and examine data through a special pair of glass which he calls the "God-is-not-necessary-to-explain-anything" glasses, while other researchers gather and examine data through their "God-is-whoever-and-whatever-I-choose" glasses. He then explains that of course there are those researchers (guess who) who are willing to gather and examine data to see which theory of origins is most consistent with the facts, whatever that theory may say about the necessity and characteristics of an Originator. Aside from the dubious use of the terms "theory" and "facts", this little piece of logic demonstrates a child-like view of the scientific process. There is little reason to believe that Mr. Ross has experience with the scientific process since he hasn't conducted any original research or published any scientific findings, but still, you'd think he'd at least understand the process. Surely, science has nothing whatsoever to say about a Creator or any other aspect of theology. That is because science is rightfully silent on any unfalsifiable concept. A scientist who makes any statement regarding God would be presenting their beliefs, not their scientific conclusions. This is why there isn't a single word about God or Creation in any published scientific paper. Therefore, to suggest that it is disengenuous to approach science from a secular point of view is to demonstrate a fundamental misunderstanding of science.

Mr. Ross then goes on to conclude that it is a mistake to separate science from philosophy and theology. From a certain perspective, this may be true. But Mr. Ross's perspective is that the latter should drive the former. Again, this shows a clear misunderstanding of the scientific process. His conclusion does not take into consideration that science is an objective discipline, while philosophy and theology are subjective pursuits. So while science may be useful in any philosophical or theological study, using philosophy or theology to inform scientific discovery, as the author suggests, would only serve to undermine the objectivity of the scientific process. Mr. Ross admits as much in the following chapter...

Review: The Creator and the Cosmos

Review of The Creator and the Cosmos: first in a series...

Recently, the Headmaster made a promise to read a book on creation - The Creator and the Cosmos, by Hugh Ross. He's heard it all before, so the exercise seems pointless, but he actually thought this might be different: an academically trained astronomer claims that scientific discoveries reveal divine creation. At face value, it seems like an interesting read.

The headmaster is only on the first page of the third of these very brief opening chapters, and he's already exhausted from the mental gymnastics employed by the author to lead the reader to his preconceived conclusions. We might have entitled this post "We Read The Creator and the Cosmos So YOU Don't Have To". You can thank the Academy with gifts and money, which would help the struggling endowment.

The headmaster's review will be posted here chapter by chapter, rather than waiting until the end. We just don't think he has the stomach to get through more than a chapter a day. In fact, we're not sure he'll get through it at all - there are far too many interesting books out there tempting him away from this one. But he promised, so we'll do our best. Who knows, in the end the faculty of the Academy may all be converts...

Back online, anon...

For a while now, the headmaster has been choosing to live an anonymous existence, in order to pursue his lifelong dream of becoming a church-sign photographer. So it is perhaps appropriate that on this day - a day of manifest reemergence into the blogosphere - that he stumbled upon this sign at Mt. Zion United Methodist Church:



Ignoring, for a moment, the misspelling, he pauses to reflect... perhaps everything, according to this sign, is a coincidence.

This must be true, because it is certain that epiphany is when God chooses to be anomalous.

...you're just a head case

Ah, the victim mentality. Too often, when reading a victim's dramatic tale of woe, you feel as though it's not just the facts being manipulated; you, the reader, are being manipulated as well. You may wonder - does the author really believe it, or is it simply a means to achieve an end? Manipulation seems to be the key for pawning culprit as victim, and the experienced manipulative mind is fertile ground for such a victim mentality.

For these "victims", concepts like reality and history are mere functions of ego, which these mental gymnasatics are ultimately designed to prop up and protect. And although ignoring one's role in problems is far easier than, say, accepting your share of responsibility for a given situation, such exercises in cognitive dissonance must be remarkably exhausting.

You're no Neko Case...

Hey, they were no Neko Case, but these guys rocked out Schooley Mill Park tonight. It was a perfect night for a free concert, followed by a pickup game of kickball.



But what's that you say? What would I have rather been doing? Truth be told, watching some of this...

Humbility Knocks

The Academy was graced with a visit from the Howard County Building Inspector today. It seems our little capital improvement project on the north grounds has attracted some attention. The inspector was very gracious, and agreement was quickly reached regarding the issue in question. Our guest walked the grounds around the entire perimeter of the campus. After his little stroll, the headmaster was visibly relieved - fortunately the inspector hadn't stopped to comment on the gas line which the headmaster roughed in over the weekend for the fire pit. After all, how much humbility can a headmaster take in one day?

Hercule Poirot: "I am learning, Hastings. It is more English, yes, the humbleness? So, I am learning. I shall be the most humble person in the world. No one will match Hercule Poirot for his humbility."

Good Fences Make Mad Neighbors

Howard County building codes aside, I've been working on this fence for a couple of months now. Let's review progress, shall we? My goal is to block people from wandering into the back yard and falling into the swimming pool - thus, I must install 32 linear feet of fence on the side yard. After two months of back-breaking work, I have 8 feet blocked, though the fence there is not complete. Say wha?

Today, my neighbor interrupted his vacation in Kitty Hawk to call and ask me if I'd made any progress on the fence. Uh oh. I think that qualifies this project as a high priority for them. HEY, WHEN DO I GET A FREAKIN' VACATION, HUH?!

OK, so I'm slow. I'm half a century old for chrissakes. Give me a break - I knew some of these rocks when they were just kids...

Boyz in the 'Hood

Girls are noisy. They fuss and they fight all the time. They wear noisy "clacky" shoes. The simplest of incidents are fodder for melodramatic wails, complete with real tears. They scream when they're happy, scream when they're scared, scream when they're surprised, and scream when they just feel like screaming. Conversationally, they have boys beat by tens of decibals. Its enough to make the Headmaster run for sanctuary several times a day, into the "Man Room". He may even do a load of laundry or two while he's in there.

But one thing girls rarely do is jolt you with heart-stopping, horrific surprises. That's the specialty of the all-male student body of the Academy. While a max-extract spin cycle might drown out the bone jarring sound of a barbie-doll fight, nothing will soothe the nerves after finding a plastic sandwich bag full of worms. Dead worms. Worms roasting in their plastic death-sauna for an undetermined number of days. Yeah. Only time can heal that memory. Lots of time, and lots of liquor.

When the Headmaster entertains, the last thing he wants to hear from a guest is speculative inquiry into whether something may have crawled behind some furniture and died. In fact, in hindsight, it was an excellent way to describe the smell of bagged dead worms. And, as he later found out, an oddly appropriate description of actual events.

Since getting close enough to take a photo of this grisly scene would have required overcoming the strong gag reflex, and since looking at such a photo would require the same of you, the Headmaster has chosen to spare the details. So, in the spirit of providing visual support for all blog posts, please enjoy these pictures of something the boys dragged home today. (mental note - must visit liquor store)

What's behind YOUR trees?

Its been a rather expensive week around the Academy grounds. And its all because of the number one enemy facing Americans today - TREES.

Before we go shrinking the government down so that it fits in, say, a bathtub, we should marshall our federal resources and mobilize our military heroes in a domestic "Shock and Awe" program against all conifers and deciduous-ers. These things are a menace. I mean, you can't see what's going on behind them - and that's just what the terrorists want.

Earlier this week, while backing the truck across the West grounds to get another load of tree debris (oh yeah, we've graduated from brush-clearing to tree-clearing - those Texans are such wimps), an innocent-looking Bradford Pear tree jumped right out in back of me! I'd like to see that Geico Gecko explain THAT one.




















This evening a wicked storm ripped through the area (at least, that's what the terrorists want us to think). Down came this huge Linden tree in the East Pavilion, taking out a Leyland Cypress in its path. The wind snapped the tree right in two. I'm feeling safer already...

Uh... He-hello?

Uh... he-hello? Is this thing on? Is anyone there?

Huh. First post since November last year. I gotta give a quick shout-out to all the people who've maintained links to this blog. You know you've thought more than once about taking them down...

The Headmaster's, er - head, is swimming with all the construction projects he's started since then. Of course, none are finished, but I suspect you knew that. And speaking of swimming, did you know that according to Howard County building codes, if you own a swimming pool you must maintain a fence (minimum 48" high) around the pool perimeter, with a locked gate? Huh. The Headmaster tried to get a variance for a cracked, leaky swimming pool, but they weren't swayed by his argument that, should someone actually fall in, the pool would virtually drain its entire 40,000 gallons within a week anyway.

So, we're all about getting the fence done before the new neighbors move in. They have toddlers. FREAKIN' TODDLERS! JUST WHAT THE HELL WE NEED MORE OF AROUND HERE!! Okaaaay.... deep breath... serenity now..... There... (mental note - must stop at liquor store)

Anyway, I've cleared a bunch of brush out of the side yard. Hey...

- from New England
- able to speak with a Texas twang
- clears brush
- never served in the military
- never REALLY went to college

...I think I'm fully qualified to become President! Oops, no wait... not hearing voices from God yet. Except for that time He told me to quit my job and stay home. No wait, I think that was my boss.

Anyway, I've taken down the old fence and I'm starting to dig the holes for the concrete footers. Woah! Concrete footers you say? Did you say concrete footers?! Hey, we don't do anything half-assed here in Texas - er, at the Academy. Plus, I need to do something with those three tons of field stone that have been holding my driveway in place for more than a year now. So, here are some pics, and plans. Stay tuned...

Here is an elevation of the fence plan - four stone pillars flanking tongue-and-groove cedar sections...








If you recall, this was how we started this whole thing. Note the old stockade fence...


















And here we're all trimmed up, fence down, and ready to begin...

Son of a B______!

Beckett knows. He always knows.

Whenever the Headmaster heads out of town for an overnight trip, Beckett seizes the opportunity. Remember our Disney holiday? Beckett got the better of the Headmaster that day, but who's laughing now? Certainly not Beckett, whose body lies rusting in the Howard County landfill.

But Son of Beckett lives. The last remaining oil-fired appliance in the Academy - the furnace, source of all that is warm and good - carries the bitter grudge forward. The Headmaster went to North Carolina for the Thanksgiving holiday, and as he sat at the banquet table engaged in enthralling conversation with the In-Laws, perhaps pausing only to dab a spot of gravy from the corner of his mouth, Beckett went to work. The phone call from Academy staff came quickly enough - "The heat isn't working and we're FREEZING!" The Headmaster set his napkin gently on the table and swallowed hard. With veins bulging in his neck, he raised a fisted fork to the ceiling and shouted "BECKEEEEEEEEEETT!" A small piece of turkey and one green bean fell to the table as the father-in-law dropped his jaw open. Yeah, good times.

Although there was positively nothing the Headmaster could do to salvage what little remained of his reputation with the In-Laws, he awoke this morning (after a long, cold night) with some small hope that, by fixing the furnace himself, he might salvage what little remains of the Academy's endowment. The Headmistress was skeptical - she waited at the top of the stairs with a twitchy finger on the speed-dial, ready to call in the professionals.

Several hours later, with every tool in the Academy's workshop brought to bear, the Headmaster emerged victorious and positively reeking of #2 fuel oil. Who knew there were SO MANY parts in a furnace?!

So, Son of Beckett, who's laughing now?


Oh crap, we're in trouble....