Apocalypse yesterday

I find it simultaneously amusing and terrifying how steeped in self-delusion some folks are.

Now, it's not that I think I'm always right, or free from biases.  Those of you who read yesterday's post might remember that I had something to say about that, apropos of the accuracy with which our brains function.  But still; one thing the scientific, rationalistic point of view does have is a clear protocol for figuring out when you're wrong.  And when you are...  well, you alter your theory to match the facts, or else scrap it entirely and go back to the drawing board.

But some people evidently don't work that way.  They take things the other way around.  If the facts don't line up with their favorite model about how the world works, then they change the facts.  And their altered facts, miraculously enough, always seem to support their model.  So without any apparent realization that they've just committed circular reasoning, they announce that their claim is vindicated.

You remember the whole nonsense about the Rapture, that came into the news largely because of the late Harold Camping, extremist religious wingnut extraordinaire?  Camping, you might recall, announced a date for the Rapture, and stated his case so vehemently that more than one of his followers sold all of their belongings and gave away the proceeds, or else used the money to purchase billboard space to warn the rest of us that the End Was Near.  The day before the Day, many of them bid tearful farewells to their loved ones, promising to say a good word in Jesus's ear on their behalf after all the dust settled.

Then, the next day, nothing happened.

So Camping revised his prediction to a new date, six months later.  This time he was right, he said, cross his heart and hope to vanish.  But once again, the faithful stayed put on Earth, and worse still, the Antichrist never showed.  So Camping closed up shop, and two years later, died of a stroke at the ripe old age of 92, disappointed to the last that he hadn't lived to see the Rivers Running Red With The Blood Of Unbelievers.

[The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by Viktor Vasnetsov (1887).  Image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons.]

You'd think that sort of failure record (100%) would be a little discouraging to the faithful, wouldn't you?  We keep having predictions of the End Times, and the world refuses to cooperate, and end already.  No Beasts appear, no Antichrist, no Seven Seals; everything just kind of keeps loping along as usual.  Eventually, you'd think people would say, "Hey, you know what?  Maybe we need to reconsider all of this apocalyptic stuff, because so far, it's running a zero batting average."

But no.  They'd never let a little thing like no results change their minds.  In fact, yesterday I came across a site that claims that the Rapture did happen, and if you didn't notice, it was your own damn fault.

I'm not making this up.  According to the website Now the End Begins, the holy did too get Raptured.  Millions are missing, the site says:

Well, we told you it was coming.  Perhaps you were a casual reader of this site, but never got really involved, "too many religious nuts" you said.  Maybe you had a family member who would plead with you night after night to "get right" with Jesus before His return.  "Nah, never happen", you said, "people been saying that for ever.  Nonsense!".  But, it wasn't nonsense, was it?  Turns out the religious nuts were right after all.  The Rapture of the Church actually happened.  Now we are gone, and you remain.  Left behind.  I can only imagine the shock - terror - panic - and questions that must be running through your head right now.  My heart breaks for you, and that's why I made this page, to get you through what the Bible calls the time of Jacob's Trouble, the Great Tribulation, and it's moments away from starting.  Are YOU ready?

I... what?

What do you mean "we are gone?"  If you're gone, who is writing for and maintaining the site?  Are you suggesting that Heaven has WiFi and a fast internet connection?  Is the server hosted by the Lord of Hosts?  What do you do if Christ wants to use the Holy Computer while you're updating the website?  Do you tell him, "I'm sorry, Jesus, but you'll have to surf the web another time?"

But my main objection is, if all of those people really had disappeared, don't you think someone would have noticed by now?  Sure, the website tells us.  We all did notice.  And apparently, we're all pretty puzzled about it:

And that's exactly what just happened, and where we have now gone.  Oh, knowing the media as I do, I am sure that there are many attempts to explain it - UFO's, alien abductions, a harmonic convergence, a government program, FEMA camps, cosmic shift, worm holes, and the list goes on and on.  But none of those explainations really satisfy you, do they?  I mean, it's hundreds upon hundreds of millions of people, right?  Could any one government, no matter how corrupt, really process that many people in the "blink of an eye".  No, they could not.  You know better than that.

I do?  I mean, yes, of course I do.  I'd never fall for the media telling me that hundreds of millions of people were sucked into a wormhole!  That'd just be silly!  I'll believe instead that hundreds of millions of people vanished, and no one has mentioned it in the media at all!

Because, of course, the teensy little problem with all of this is that everyone seems to kind of... still be here.  While I understand that given the circles I travel in, it's understandable that none of my immediate friends and family were Bodily Assumed Into Heaven, you'd think that at least one or two casual acquaintances would be amongst the hundreds of millions who were holy enough to be Raptured.  Strange to say, I haven't noticed anyone in my community vanishing lately.  I really don't think that I'd have missed something like that.  There are even a few I can think of that I'd be happy enough to wave goodbye to, as they floated off into the sky, but no such luck.

The rest of the site consists of suggestions about what to do now that we've been Left Behind (number one piece of advice: don't accept the Mark of the Beast).  But all of that really pales by comparison to the opening bits, wherein they tell us that the Rapture happened while we were otherwise occupied, and we Ungodly Types have yet to notice.

I've said before about the extremely religious that they'll never let a little thing like facts stand in the way of their beliefs, but this may be the best example yet.  The whole thing reminded me of the words of George Aiken, Republican senator from Vermont, who said, when it became obvious that the United States was losing the Vietnam War, "The best policy is to declare victory and leave."  Or in this case, don't let the fact that the Rapture didn't happen interfere with your conviction that the Rapture has actually happened.

Me, I'm just going to do what the world does, namely, keep loping along and not worry about it.  Even if the UltraChristian crowd is right, I'm pretty certain to be Left Behind anyhow, a possibility that doesn't scare me much.  I've read the Book of Revelation more than once, and I have to point out that whatever else you can say about it, the apocalypse sounds interesting.  There's the Scarlet Whore of Babylon and the Beast with Seven Heads and the Star Wormwood and the Four Horsepersons and various other special offers from the God of Love and Mercy, any one of which would certainly alleviate the boredom around here.  So if the Rapture really has already happened, let's get this apocalyptic ball rolling, okay, people?  The End Times are a-wastin'.

Wine, violins, and trusting your senses

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I guess I know too much about neuroscience to trust my own senses.  It's a point I've made before; we get awfully cocky about our own limited perspective, when rightfully we should have remarkably little faith in what we see or hear (or remember, for that matter).  Oh, our perceptions are enough to get by on; we wouldn't have lasted long as a species if our sight and hearing led us astray more often than not.

But the devil is in the details, they say, and in this case it proves remarkably (and perhaps regrettably) true.  What you think your senses are telling you is probably not accurate.

At all.

And the worst part is, it doesn't matter if you're an expert.  It might even be worse if you are.  Not only does your confidence blind you to your own mistakes, at times your expectations about what you're experiencing seem to predispose you to blundering more than an amateur would in similar circumstances.

I first ran into this rather troubling phenomenon last year, when a study came out that indicated that wine experts couldn't tell the difference between an expensive wine and a cheap one -- if they were deprived of the information on the label:

French academic Frédéric Brochet... presented the same Bordeaux superior wine to 57 volunteers a week apart and in two different bottles – one for a table wine, the other for a grand cru. 

The tasters were fooled. 

When tasting a supposedly superior wine, their language was more positive – describing it as complex, balanced, long and woody.  When the same wine was presented as plonk, the critics were more likely to use negatives such as weak, light and flat.

Then Brochet pissed off the wine snobs even worse with a subsequent experiment in which it became apparent that the tasters couldn't even tell the difference between a red and a white wine:

[Brochet] asked 54 wine experts to test two glasses of wine– one red, one white. Using the typical language of tasters, the panel described the red as "jammy' and commented on its crushed red fruit. 

The critics failed to spot that both wines were from the same bottle. The only difference was that one had been coloured red with a flavourless dye.

Now lest you think that this phenomenon only applies to wine snobbery, a study has come out from Claudia Fritz at the University of Paris that shows that the same expert-and-expectation bias can occur with our perceptions of sounds -- when she demonstrated that expert violinists couldn't reliably tell the difference between a Stradivarius and a newly-fashioned modern violin:

“During both sessions, soloists wore modified welders’ goggles, which together with much-reduced ambient lighting made it impossible to identify instruments by eye,” the researchers write. In addition, the new violins were sanded down a bit to “eliminate any tactile clues to age, such as unworn corners and edges...” 

In the concert hall, the violinists were given free reign: They could ask for feedback from a designated friend or colleague, and a pianist was on hand so they could play excerpts from sonatas on the various violins. 

Afterwards, they rated each instrument for various qualities, including tone quality, projection, articulation/clarity, “playability,” and overall quality. Finally, they briefly played six to eight of the instruments and guessed whether each was old or new. 

The results: Six of the soloists chose new violins as their hypothetical replacement instruments, while four chose ones made by Stradivari. One particular new violin was chosen four times, and one Stradivarius was chosen three times, suggesting those instruments were the clear favorites.

You can understand how these results might upset classical violinists, perhaps even more than Brochet's experiment ruffled the feathers of the wine tasters.  Stradivarius, after all, is considered the touchstone for sound quality in a string instrument.

[image courtesy of photographer Håkan Svensson and the Wikimedia Commons]

There are 650 known Stradivari instruments, and their market value is estimated to be in the hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars.  Each.  The idea that a new -- albeit excellent -- violin could compete with a Strad in sound quality is profoundly unsettling to a lot of people.

Reasonably speaking, however, I don't know why it should be (other than the monetary aspect, of course).  Wines and music are both rich sensory experiences, and our appreciation of either (or both) is the result of not only the stimulation of millions of sensory neurons, but the release of a complex broth of neurochemicals that creates a feedback loop with our sense organs, emotional centers, and cognitive processes.  We shouldn't expect that experiencing either wine or music would be a predictable thing; if it was, they probably wouldn't have the resonance they do.

So it's not surprising, really, that our expectations about the taste of a wine or the sound of a violin should change our perceptions.  It's just one more kick in the pants to our certainty, however, that what we see and hear and feel is accurate in its details.  The idea doesn't bother me much, honestly.  Nothing that a little Riunite on ice can't fix.

Vissarion vs. autonomy

My younger son came down to visit this weekend, and we got to talking about cults.

I'm not sure what brought the topic up; with the two of us, odd discussions don't take much in the way of impetus.  Our conversations run the gamut, from art to music to quantum physics to politics to how to grow vegetables.  But after a while, he asked, "So, have you heard about the guy who is the Russian answer to Jesus?"

I said that I'd heard of the Australian Jesus, but I must have missed the memo about the Russian one.  In fact, I was rather surprised that there were multiple Jesi out there.  You'd think that there'd only be one at a time, considering who he supposedly is.  But my son said that yes, there was a Russian one, and he was one interesting dude.

So he proceeded to tell me about Vissarion, born Sergey Anatolyevich Torop, who was a soldier in the Soviet army, and later a patrol officer, before having a vision in 1990 and realizing that he was the reincarnation of Jesus (the original one).  He wrote something called The Last Testament of Christ, which seems to combine New Age ideas with Christianity and various stuff from out in left field (his teachings include bits about aliens and spaceships, for example).  Then he went out into the Siberian taiga, near the village of Petropavlovka, and started a settlement called Tiberkul which he set up to run on the principles of his sect.

We watched a Vice.com video, which you should all take a look at (it's about 25 minutes long, but well worth the time).  Both my son and I had the same basic responses to it, which can be boiled down to the following:

• Vissarion has a great eye for natural beauty.  The region around Petropavlovka is gorgeous.  Although it should be mentioned that it was August -- I doubt it'd be that inviting in January.
• The inhabitants of Tiberkul are... interesting.  They seemed intelligent, articulate, and (as far as you could tell) happy enough.  The teenage boy that was interviewed had a kind of stunned look on his face -- the sort of expression you'd expect from someone who had been indoctrinated and was more-or-less petrified that he'd say something wrong and get in trouble.  But everyone else seemed pretty content.
• That said, they seem to embrace whole-heartedly the traditional gender roles.  It's hard for me to imagine any woman hearing the speech from the matronly woman near the beginning of the film, about how women need to be trained to know how to care properly for a man, and not backing away mighty fast.
• Vissarion himself -- who granted an interview at the end, in what is the most interesting part of the film -- definitely needs to work on his quasi-religious doublespeak.  When he was asked, "What is your favorite food?" and answered, "I do not know how to phrase an answer in such a way that you could understand," I thought, "How hard would it be to say, 'I like strawberries?'"  Most of what he said had the consistency of cream-of-wheat.
• The interviewer, Rocco Castoro, has amazing self-control, because after twenty minutes in that place I would have been laughing out loud or else running away in terror, or possibly both.

But what strikes me most is to wonder how people could make the choice to embrace this cult -- for cult it is, however innocuous it may appear at first.  I cannot imagine what catastrophe in my personal life could impel me to abandon what I have and flee into the wilderness to become one of this man's adoring throng.  You may be gaining a community, a sense of purpose, a feeling of connection to a higher spiritual plane; but the cost is your autonomy.  You have to follow Vissarion's rules; amongst them, veganism, abstaining from alcohol, refraining from the use of money and the ownership of goods.  I don't doubt that breaking any of these would result in censure, possibly expulsion from the community.

And then where would you be?  Can you imagine if you were cut loose, after years of belonging, after you had given away all you had, quit your job, severed your personal connections?  The fear alone would keep many obedient -- which is no doubt Vissarion's intent.

So they continue to have their dances and play the recorders and guitars and sing songs of praise to their Messiah.  What choice do they really have?

I don't know what, if anything, should be done about groups like this; ostensibly, they cause no harm. But at its basis, Vissarion is promoting a false doctrine.  Whatever the "Russian Jesus" may be -- huckster, psychopath, guru, or some combination of the three -- he is indoctrinating these people in a counterfactual worldview, with its foolishness about alien guides and the End Times approaching.  And however messy and unpleasant life in the real world can get, I don't understand anyone trading it, along with their autonomy, for a place in Vissarion's holy village.

The invention of Philip

Despite my being immersed for years in the Wild World of Woo-Woo, I still occasionally run across things that I'd never heard of.  Some of them are apparently famous enough that I think, after finding out about them, "How on earth did I miss that one?"

Take, for example, the "Philip Experiment," which I bumped into for the first time yesterday morning.  The "experiment" -- although I myself would have hesitated to use that term to describe it -- was the brainchild of Iris Owen, leader of the "Owen Group," which was a team of parapsychology investigators in Toronto in the 1970s.  Owen and her pals apparently were tired of contacting the spirits of actual dead people, so they came up with an interesting idea; would it be possible to invent a fake dead person, and have that dead person's soul become real?

I was already laughing by this point, but it gets even funnier.  Owen & Co. dreamed up "Philip Aylesford," a fictional 17th century Englishman.  Philip, according to the site Mystica, "...was born in England in 1624 and followed an early military career.  At the age of sixteen he was knighted. He had an illustrious role in the Civil War.  He became a personal friend of Prince Charles (later Charles II) and worked for him as a secret agent.  But Philip brought about his own undoing by having an affair with a Gypsy girl.  When his wife found out she accused the girl of witchcraft, and the girl was burned at the stake.  In despair Philip committed suicide in 1654 at the age of thirty."

One of the more artistically-minded Owen Group members even drew Philip's portrait:

So the Owen Group began to meditate on Philip's life, meeting frequently to have deep discussions about All Things Philip.  After fleshing out the details of Philip's history, they finally decided to have a séance to see if they could raise Philip's soul from the afterlife.

Have I been emphatic enough on the point that Philip Aylesford wasn't a real guy?

I doubt anyone will be surprised, however, that the séance and "table tipping" sessions that followed showed some serious results.  Philip did the "rap once for yes, twice for no" thing, giving correct answers to questions about his life.  Questions that, of course, everyone in the room knew the answer to.  The table in the room where the séance was held moved in a mystifying manner; Philip, one source recounts, would "move the table, sliding it from side to side despite the fact that the floor was covered with thick carpeting.  At times it would even 'dance' on one leg."  Mystica tells us that Philip "...had a special rapport with Iris Owen," and even whispered some answers to her, although efforts to catch the whispers on an audio recording were "inconclusive."

We are told, by way of an "explanation" (although again I am reluctant to use that word here), that Philip was an egrigor -- "a supernatural intelligence produced by the will or visualization of participants in a group."  Whatever that means.  I, predictably, would offer the alternative definition of, "a delightful mélange of collective delusion, hoax, wishful thinking and the ideomotor effect."

Of course, this hasn't stopped the whole thing from being spread about as solid evidence of the paranormal.  It was the subject of a YouTube video, which I encourage you all to watch for the humor value alone.  Even funnier, the "Philip Experiment" encouraged other parapsychology buffs to try to replicate the results.  The Paranormal Phenomena site (linked above) tells us that other groups have been successful at making contact with Lilith, a French Canadian spy; Sebastian, a medieval alchemist; Axel, a man from the future; and Skippy Cartman, a 14-year-old Australian girl.

I bet you think I'm going to say "I made the last one up."  Sorry, but no.  The "Skippy Experiment" is a real thing, and "Skippy Cartman" was able to communicate via "raps and scratching sounds."

It's probably too much to hope for that she asked for "some goddamn Cheesy Poofs."

I know I've written about some ridiculous things before, but this one has got to be in the Top Ten.  All through doing the research for this post, I kept having to stop to do two things: (1) checking to see if this was some kind of parody, and (2) getting paper towels to wipe up the coffee that I'd choke-snorted all over my computer monitor.  I mean, really, people.  If the paranormalists actually want us skeptical science-minded types to take them seriously -- to consider what they do to be valid experimentation -- they need to stop pulling this kind of crapola.  I know that skeptics can sometimes be guilty of doing the throw-out-the-baby-with-the-bath thing, better known as the Package Deal Fallacy -- "some of this is nonsense, so it's all nonsense."  But still.  The fact that a lot of the paranormal sites that feature the Philip Experiment were completely uncritical in their support of its validity makes me rather doubt that they can tell a good experiment from a bad one in general.

That said, I have to say that if we really can communicate with fictional entities, there are a few characters from some of my novels that I wouldn't mind having a chat with.  Tyler Vaughan, the main character from Signal to Noise, would be a good place to start, although I have it on good authority that Tyler is so much like me that I probably wouldn't gain much by talking to him.  It'd be kind of cool to meet Nick Calladine from We All Fall Down to tell him he made the right decision, and Bethany Hale from The Parsifal Snowe Mysteries because she's badass and tough and smokin' hot.

But it's not possible, of course.  And if all I got were some "raps and scratching noises" for my effort, it'd probably not be worth the effort in any case.

Fear tactics and fleeing bison

Is there some facet of human personality that craves disaster?

I ask this question because of a story sent to me by a loyal reader of Skeptophilia called, "Reports of Bison 'Fleeing' Yellowstone Amid Fears Quake Could Trigger Eruption of Park's Supervolcano."  In it, we read a lot of fairly terrifying stuff about the supervolcano that lies beneath the park, and what havoc it could cause if it erupted:

Yellowstone National Park sits atop the Yellowstone Caldera, the crater of a massive supervolcano. The park attracts millions of visitors each year to its famous geysers and hot springs, powered by the hot lava below. 

In recent years, scientists discovered the caldera is 48 kilometres wide — far larger than previously thought... 

The Yellowstone super volcano has had three cataclysmic eruptions — 2 million, 1.3 million and 640,000 years ago, creating a series of ‘nesting’ calderas, say scientists.
The eruption 2 million years ago was the most catastrophic, covering half of North America with ash and wiping out prehistoric animals, reports the Yellowstone Volcano Observatory... 

The inevitable next ‘big one’ will wipe out the surroundings for hundreds of kilometres, covering the US and Canada in ash, [University of Oregon geologist Ilya Bindeman] told EarthSky. It would devastate agriculture and cause global cooling for a decade, he says. 

A volcanic eruption of that size “hasn’t happened in modern civilisation,” he said.

All of which is true, of course.  And we're even told at the end, seemingly as an afterthought, that scientists are pretty sure that an eruption isn't imminent and that we'll have plenty of warning before one occurs (not that we'll be able to do much to stop it).

But before getting that reassurance, we're shown a video clip of some bison "fleeing for their lives" and told that the "animals may be leaving the park because they sense an impending catastrophic volcanic eruption triggered by recent earthquakes."

[image courtesy of photographer Jack Dykinga and the Wikimedia Commons]

Well, I looked at the video, and the first thing I noticed was that the bison didn't seem particularly alarmed.  I didn't get the "fleeing for their lives" vibe from them.  They were more moseying for their lives, or possibly even ambling for their lives.

But second, what the hell is the writer of the article trying to do by telling us in one breath that the bison were running away because the volcano is going to erupt, and in the next saying that scientists don't think it's going to erupt?  I've seen bison, and I know a good many scientists, and I think I can say without fear of contradiction that most scientists are smarter than your average bison.

But we don't have a very good track record of listening to scientists, do we?  I'm honestly not surprised that the American citizenry would discount what a scientist is saying in favor of prognostications by a large ungulate, given our general approach on evolution, climate change, and vaccination.

Now, of course I know why the media loves stories like this; it gets people to click the links and read the articles.  But I'm more mystified why the general public likes disaster stories.  Since I was sent the link, I've seen the story posted three times on Facebook and twice on Twitter.  Why are people so eager to spread around a bogus story (and I'm convinced that anyone that has more brains than a bowl of chowder could tell that it was bogus just by reading all the way to the end and seeing the disclaimer about scientists doubting that we were going to see an eruption soon)?

So something must be appealing to people about "We're All Gonna Die" stories, but I'm damned if I see what it is.  At least the other idiotic stories that you see floating around -- stories of the "Miley Cyrus Pregnant With Bigfoot's Love Chid" type -- don't leave you with the impression that civilization is about to end.

Although now that I think of it, I can understand how you might pray for the apocalypse after seeing the Miley Cyrus "twerking" video.  I know I did.  So maybe there's some justification after all.

False flags and Fort Hood

Sometimes I can simply laugh at the goofy ideas people have.  It was the genesis of this blog, really; to shine some light, both in the sense of "illumination" and also in the figurative sense of "light-heartedness," on the loopy stuff that we see on a daily basis.  And being a naturally optimistic person, I like it when my daily excursion into wingnuttery doesn't bring me down.

But there are times that I just want to scream.

Like today.  Because the conspiracy theorists are already howling about the Fort Hood shooting being a setup, a false flag, a hoax, before the victims have even been named, barely giving the smoke time to clear.

[image courtesy of photographer Michael Heckman and the Wikimedia Commons]

What, it's not enough for you people that four people are dead, including the shooter, and sixteen are wounded?  It's not enough that the gunman's widow, the mother of a three-year-old child, was "hysterical" upon finding out what her husband had done?  It's not enough that she now has to cope with raising a child who will forever live under the stigma of her father's crime?

Nope.  The tragedy itself is never enough for you people, is it?  It always has to be more.  It always has to be a plot, a piece of the Big Evil Puzzle that is how you see the world.  Don't believe me?  Here's a sampling of the comments that appeared on the Conspiracy subreddit today:

SOLDIERS shooting SOLDIERS means only one thing... TYRANNY... someone CHOOSE [sic] GOD OVER MONEY... IF you believe what the ZIONIST BANKER OWNED MEDIA SAYS your [sic] TRULY ASLEEP... YOU have chosen the GREEN PILL OF THE MATRIX... 

Active shooter = false flag know that the words coming from the media is a LIE.  ACTIVE SHOOTER IS ALL WE HERE.  STOP THE FAKE SHOOTINGS FUCKERS!!! 

Wherever u hear the phrase ACTIVE SHOOTER. this is a drill people. just another hoax!!!  Active shooter = drill and or false flag to disarm the people.  Watch how shady this BULLSHIT story changes 100 times! 

Another Obama Muslim gone psycho?  I suppose Obama will also give this brutal attack another mere "workplace violence" status instead of a "military attack" or "invasion."  I smell another Obama false flag plot, like all the rest of the phoney-baloney false flag terrorist attacks. 

This is a distraction, people.  They're getting too close to finding Flight 370 and needed something to turn our attention to.  Every time we get close to the truth, they set up something like this and most Americans fall for it.  Wake up!

Okay, let me say this loud and clear, so you wackos can hear me:

You have zero information on this.  You are doing what you do best, which is making shit up to force the story to conform to your warped worldview.  The shooter -- Ivan Lopez -- is only now being investigated, and so we don't yet know who he was or why he did what he did.  Could he have been a terrorist?  Maybe.  Could he have been some kind of Muslim convert, with a jihadist axe to grind?  I guess, although there's no indication of it.  Could he have had PTSD and had some kind of psychotic break?  Possible.  The point here is that you don't know, and I don't either.

The difference is that I'm not claiming that I do.

What I find most stomach-turning about the people who yammer on about this sort of thing is that they really feel like they're being noble and courageous and iconoclastic by making these sorts of statements.  But you know what?  All it amounts to is using the human cost of an as-yet unexplained tragedy to score political points, which when you think about it, is kind of the opposite of noble and courageous.  Because they don't care about facts, or logic, or evidence; all they care about is using any means they can to bolster a bitter, twisted worldview that sees everything in the world as evidence of a conspiracy.

It may be that in the days to come we will find out more about Ivan Lopez and why he took a gun and shot 19 of his fellow soldiers.  Because Lopez ended the shooting by taking his own life, it may be that we will never know.  It is the sad truth about many tragedies of this type that the real reasons behind it might be forever out of our reach.

So to the wackos who are circling around this story like flies around roadkill, I would like to recommend that you do what a responsible person does when (s)he has no facts or information: shut the fuck up.

Cracking the infinity codes

Okay, I know I'm no genius, but I think I can place myself with confidence in the "above average intelligence" category.

A few things, however, defeat me.  A lot of physics rests on mathematics that I frankly do not comprehend, despite my B.S. in physics and minor in math.  When I look at academic papers from physics journals, and am confronted with such arcane beasts as tensors and cross products and weak isospin, I become tense, my eyes cross, and I become all weak and spinn-y.  (I usually require at least one glass of scotch to recover completely.)

Likewise, the deeper waters of philosophy drown me entirely.  I read the first paragraph of a friend's Ph.D. dissertation in philosophy, and said, in a rather thin voice, "That's... nice," and decided forthwith that I should confine myself to the epistemological and metaphysical questions raised by The Cat in the Hat instead.

With the exception of the aforementioned, however, I can usually hold my own fairly well in intellectual pursuits, which is fortunate, given that I'm a teacher.  So it is seldom that I look at a sample of writing, study it from various angles, think about it, and then still come up completely empty-handed.  Which is what I did when I looked at a website called Infinity Codes that a friend sent me, along with the message, "Curious to see what you'll think of this."

What I thought, after forty-five minutes' increasingly perplexed study, was (to borrow a line from the inimitable Eddie Izzard), "Quod... the fuck?"  And lest you think that I'm just being lazy -- or, perhaps, that my brain isn't as all-that-and-a-bag-of-potato-chips as I claim it is -- here's a sample, so you can make your own assessment:

PURPOSE and INTENT

-- Finding the spiral thread --

Split into 4 sets of templates the Infinity Codes have been designed to assist re-establishing our connection to the cycles of the cosmos and the earth (macrocosm and microcosm). The codes are arranged in a fractal sequence in order to reveal the spiral thread of interconnected-ness between us, nature and the universe...

Their purpose is to liberate and inform us with the knowledge of geometric patterns, fractal harmonics and organic ratios of the 13D reality in which we live. Each graphic has ancient wisdom encoded within it that our ancestors knew and based their systems of time and space measurement upon.

Living in a non-linear matrix of time and space, which they understood primarily through observing the movements of the 7 visible ‘spheres’ (5 planets + sun + moon), our ancestors were far beyond us in their development. This enabled them to perceive the fractal design of the tree of life, and our place in it - via the 28 = (4x7), the 365 = (13x28) +1, and 365.242 (1 year). This created a fractal matrix of the alchemy of the organic + geometric, that could then be aligned to zodiacal + celestial, in an eternal map of the cosmos.

And that's just from the freakin' introduction.

If you go to "What is the context?" -- a question I was certainly asking by this point -- you read the following:

Living in the end times (Solstice Sun aligned with the Galactic Center), beginning of the 21st century (7:7:7), Age of Aquarius geometrically speaking, yet in reality (organically speaking) the Age of Aquarius starts circa 2600ad, information Age, cyber era… Peak moment of 2012, Dec 21st, next Winter solstice!

Well, what strikes me about this is the part about the Sun being lined up with the Galactic Center at the beginning of the 21st century.  Which is true, but can someone explain to me how two points could not be lined up?  I mean, didn't Euclid have something to say about this?  If somehow the Sun and the Galactic Center didn't fall on a straight line, that would be a little odder, don't you think?

And then, we have mystifying illustrations like the following:

 

Which are pretty, I suppose, but what the hell do they mean?

But if you really want to make your head spin, though, go to the page called "Cosmic Formulas," wherein we get to see the mathematical basis for all of it.   I think.  I mean, as far as I can tell, and applying my reasonably decent background in mathematics, it looks like he's just multiplying random numbers together, adding them to other random numbers, and saying, "So cosmic, right?  Of course right."

I finally gave up after about an hour of messing about on the site.  What finally induced me to quit was when I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the monitor screen, and I realized that my expression looked like that on the face of my dog when I try to explain complex and difficult concepts to him, like why he shouldn't dump the garbage and eat the plastic wrapper that the cheese came in.  He tips his head to one side, his brow furrows, and he gets this really... intent look in his eyes.  You can tell that he wants to understand, he's trying his hardest, but it's just not going to happen.

That's the way I looked after an hour of trying to decipher the Infinity Codes.

Maybe you'll be able to make more of it.  If so, please enlighten me.  I'm perfectly willing to admit when I'm out of my depth, as I was with my friend's dissertation, and acknowledge the better understanding that someone else might bring to bear on a subject.  On the other hand, I strongly suspect that here, there's nothing actually there to understand, and that we all might be left (like Eddie Izzard) saying "Quod the fuck?"