Taking Time to Listen

Last Saturday (January 12th) I was walking down Talbot Street in Dublin when I was beckoned to stop by one of those religious ‘enthusiasts’ that you see from time to time. I had a few minutes to kill, so I decided what the hell? (I am aware of the ironic choice of wording) and stopped to talk to him.

For those of you who aren't aware of my religious standpoint, I consider myself to be agnostic. While I do recognise the work that science has done in the expansion of our knowledge of the universe, I believe that there are aspects of the religious argument that it will never be able to disprove. Digression aside, I chose (in the conversation on Talbot Street) to neither hide my own beliefs nor attempt to argue for them with him. He was there to present his standpoint and I allowed him to do so.

Now, there were a number of points he made that I found dubious and ill presented, and others that I have heard refutations for before (Pascal’s Wager for one) but again, rather than challenging him, I took it on board and promised I’d consider what he said. Toward the end of our conversation he recommended a number of books to me regarding his argument, one of which I have actually picked up today, and provided me with an email address to contact him.

To once again digress from the main point of this post; I've had the last two weeks booked off work and I’d been considering doing something “different” this week – something I wouldn't usually do. Prior to this I thought it would be something outdoorsy (rock-climbing, hiking etc.) but this intellectual pursuit might actually turn out to be it.

On point; we’re so used to ignoring or arguing with people who don’t share our exact ideas and values these days. I don’t know what I’ll get out of this, but at the very least I've stopped, listened and given someone else the chance to make an influence on my life.  

Expansion on a Though

Before going to bed last night, I felt compelled to leave the waking work with a tweet

Okay, one last thought/question. Does #addiction challenge a negative or chase a positive?

At this juncture I just want to clarify what I mean (and use more than 140 characters to do so.) A crux of addiction, and it’s treatment as a psychical issue, is the question of whether the addiction fills a void for the addict or whether it offers a state of advanced pleasure (or orgasm) that can be achieved only through abuse of a certain substance or activity.

On the outside there are similarities in both positions – the addict seeks to use their addiction to obtain something – something to fill the void or something to give them pleasure. However, their differences are far more worrying.

For the addict who abuses to fill a void there is only despair or ‘normality’ (an imperfect term but something most aim toward.) That which is abused offers only to stabilise that which is already broken. As such, treatment of such an addict must surely centre on what is causing the void in the first place.

Conversely, if the addiction is the method by which the addict achieves excitation/nirvana/orgasm then it must be treated in a manner that recognises this. In such cases might we not instead try to understand why the specific addiction was chosen (perhaps not consciously) and focus treatment around this?

I hope that in some way helps decipher the ideas running through my head when I posted that tweet.

Thoughts On ... Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke

With the arrival of a multitude of alien ships over the major cities of the world mankind has finally discovered that he is not the only sentient being in the universe. At first their mysterious plans seem positive – the abolition of war, poverty, starvation – but so to has mankind lost its creative edge and a few have come to question whether their intentions truly are as benevolent as they appear?

With Childhood's End Arthur C. Clarke has provided us with one of his most interesting tales. Easily as important a text for the genre as 2001: A Space Odyssey or Rendezvous With Rama Childhood's End is, at its heart, an apocalyptic story but one with an oddly pleasant feel. Infused with Clarke's usual blend of science and gripping prose Childhood's End is a superb read that will keep you turning pages right to the end.

Spanning nearly one hundred and fifty years Childhood's End tells the entire story of mankind's interactions with the Overlords from their earliest clandestine operations to the moment they leave the Earth behind forever. Throughout their time on Earth the Overlords are nothing but gracious to the native population but there is the always the feeling that they're hiding something, a secret that holds great importance to the future of mankind. In its revelation Clarke gives us a unique indication of what we have the potential to become.

Thoughts On ... Grass by Sherri S. Tepper

Tackling any one of the topics of religion, faith and politics is a risky business when writing any fictional work. Each of them offers something for people to stand by, to cling to when they feel challenged by others and ultimately to provide a solid base upon which to construct their own belief. In Grass Sherri S. Tepper bravely utilises these themes to weave an amazing story set years in the future when man has spread his reach out into the stars.

With unflinching honesty, Tepper creates a most amazing world, a world of Grass where medieval estates hold an assumed superiority over the 'common' inhabitants of the planet. However, there is something bigger happening on Grass, bigger than the “Little Beings” than inhabit it realise. It is only with the arrival of outsiders, sent to unearth a cure for a universe wide plague, that the realities of what is happening on the isolated planet come to light.

Using the beliefs of Christianity as a guide, Grass explores what it really means to be human – questioning why we follow our chosen beliefs and confronting our arrogant beliefs that we are the central race in the universe.

Superbly written and frighteningly real, Grass is one of the best novels I've read in a good while.

When a sporting event takes the notice of the entire world it is inevitable that at some point in its duration it will throw up some point of contention – the FIFA World Cup is no different. Already we have had disallowed goals and missed offsides resulting in the elimination of teams from the tournament. Okay, you may argue that Germany were good for their 4-1 win and that Argentina outplayed Chile so the ends justify the means; but what of poor old Ghana?

The last African team left in the tournament they pushed South America's Uruguay all the way in today's quarter finals only to be undone 4-2 in a dreadful penalty shootout. The big point of contention in the match came, however, in the 120^th minute when Uruguay's Suarez handled the ball on the goal line leading to his sending off and the awarding of a penalty to Ghana which they missed.

Now, this all happened in the very last minute of the match. No real disadvantage was forced on Uruguay as they would not be forced to play any more actual football with a depleted squad while Ghana were given a less than 100% chance of capitalising from the decision. Ultimately Uruguay gained more of an advantage from the handball than Ghana did. Instead of what would have been a 100% allowed goal, knocking the South American's out of the tournament they were given a 25% chance of remaining (research has estimated that the probability of a player scoring a penalty is about 75%.) See this .pdf for more information

One might argue, however, that, had the events taken place in the first minute and not the last that Uruguay would have been justly penalised for Suarez's transgressions but we must ask ourselves would he have felt the need to handle the ball to prevent the goal (after all Uruguay did come from behind to force extra-time in the first place.) At what point does handball stop being an infringement and become a blatant act of cheating that affords the guilty player's team a distinct advantage?

It's been some time since I felt myself tearing up at a movie, so long in fact that I can't actually remember what the movie was. Today however, I found myself fighting off the waterworks while watching the otherwise superb Marley & Me. What's more, I had to get up off the chair and find something else to occupy myself to stop myself from completely breaking down (I doubt I've cleaned the kitchen with such vigour before.)

In spite of my distractions I still found myself welling up and was unfortunate (if that is the right word) to glance at the TV just in time to see Marley close his eyes for the final time. Perhaps I should have added a spoiler warning there but seriously, there's very little other than the death of Marley that was going to make me cry at the movie.

It's a trend that I've noticed in regards to the movies that have made me cry. The death of Skip in My Dog Skip was another, very similar to the Marley & Me story while 101 Dalmatians (live action version) and another movie that I can't remember, or never knew, the name of brought tears for imagined reasons – I was young and had a thing about animals not getting the recognition they deserved for their actions.

All in all it makes me wonder how I'm going to cope when my own beloved hound passes away. He's getting on in years (11 last February) and his legs don't hold up like they used to. I'm really starting to regret all the time I could have spent with him but instead wasted it on frivolous activities. I guess it's time I stopped writing now, there's a ball in the garden and a faithful friend who'd be willing for a game of fetch.

Steg. Out.