I love my mother. There are many ways in which I wish that I could be more like her. She is, hands down, one of the sweetest, most compassionate, and caring individuals I have known. That's not to say that she doesn't have her faults, because she does, but the good in her more than makes up for it. I realize that I'm probably biased, but other people have made similiar observations of her character. I know I'm not in woo-wooville just yet.
My mother has a rather unforunate hobby, however: trash TV. American Idol. House Hunters. What Not to Wear. She just loves it. Most of the shows she watches I can deal with. But one show, in particular, evokes nearly audible eye-rolls from me: Ghost Hunters. This is a show on the Sci-Fi channel that involves a few fairly pragmatic fellows going around to haunted areas with all sorts of hi-tech gagedtry to see what's what. I wouldn't be writing about my mother's television viewing habits except for the small fact that she believes that ghosts exist, and Ghost Hunters is living proof (pun intended).
When I come to visit and she's watching that show (or any other show that centers around ghosts, mediums and spooks et al.) we invariably get into a bit of an argument. I try to point out that there are perfectly plausible explanations for such phenomena that don't rely on a metaphysical realm, such as our tendency to perceive patterns where none exist. She typically will take such a statement to mean that I'm calling her bat-shit insane, and will be offended. At that point, the discussions usually don't get any loftier.
One day, she asked me "What's wrong with me believing in it? It's just a harmless belief, so let me have it!" I relented, because I couldn't think of a good response. To me, at the time, it seemed harmless and it made her happy - so I chided myself for being a dick, though, I still had reservations.
I'm not very articulate (in case you can't already tell), so I was unable to put those reservations into words. That changed, however, after reading Dawkins' A Devil's Chaplain. I began to realize why it gnaws at me that she believes things like that, or why anyone believes in ghosts, gods, or devils: because they are missing so much.
I began to realize what beauty means to me. There is grace in science. There is warmth in this physical world. A sophistication completely unimaginable in the trappings of the paranormal, the supernatural, or the metaphysical. It pains me and shakes me down to my foundation to think that people are willingly missing out on all of it and that they do so by surrendering their minds and intellectual prowess to comfort. What is the belief in an afterlife besides a salve for the fear of death? What is the belief in God besides security against absurdity? It cheapens this life that we lead in this world.
To make my point a bit more clear, I'll paraphrase an example from Dawkins. Imagine that the whole history of the earth is written down, and that it is written at a rate of one page per hundred years. For every hundred years, one page is written that details all that has happened during that time. For a young earth creationist, the whole of the earth's history fits neatly in your hand. You can, in fact, read it in the bathroom (should you choose to). From the scientific perspective, however, you will need a bookcase ten miles in length to capture the history of the earth in this thought experiment.
This is, of course, analagous to all sorts of rebellion from naturalistic explanations and investigation. I wish it were easy to convince people that there is so much beauty right here, and that they needn't look to the heavens or the hereafter. I wish words did not fail me so when I try to express how much more invigorating life can be when you stop listening to your local bone thrower or psychic medium, and start reading Scientific American. I wish I could express how (forgive me) blessed I feel with each day, as I know, eventually and inevitably, I will cease to be. I wish I could tell you how much time with my family and friends means to me, because, eventually and inevitably, they will cease to be as well. In short, I wish I were more persuasive and articulate.
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