Author Archive for Zachary MoorePage 2 of 3

Doubters Take Down Plantinga

Alvin is happy because he believes that El Tigre's punishing headlock is really an epiphenomenon of his willing defeat.

Don't let my tulip-loving associates fool you- Western Michigan has plenty of rationality to go around. The Center for Inquiry - Michigan not only brought you the infamous Hitchens vs. Hitchens debate, it also helps (in a roundabout way) to bring you the Reasonable Doubts Podcast, featuring the class-act trio of Jeremy Beahan, Luke Galen, and David Fletcher. It's no understatement to say that I'm nursing a wicked man-crush on these guys - not only is their in-show repartée amusing and engaging, they also know what the hell is going on.

Their latest outing has them grappling with Alvin Plantinga's "Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism," and slamming it down on the mat. Subscribe here to listen to Plantinga's epic fail.

Doubters Take Down Plantinga

Alvin is happy because he believes that El Tigre's punishing headlock is really an epiphenomenon of his willing defeat.

Don't let my tulip-loving associates fool you- Western Michigan has plenty of rationality to go around. The Center for Inquiry - Michigan not only brought you the infamous Hitchens vs. Hitchens debate, it also helps (in a roundabout way) to bring you the Reasonable Doubts Podcast, featuring the class-act trio of Jeremy Beahan, Luke Galen, and David Fletcher. It's no understatement to say that I'm nursing a wicked man-crush on these guys - not only is their in-show repartée amusing and engaging, they also know what the hell is going on.

Their latest outing has them grappling with Alvin Plantinga's "Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism," and slamming it down on the mat. Subscribe here to listen to Plantinga's epic fail.

Killing Babies With Science

This cell is a human being. Or maybe it isn't. Only Paul Manata and his invisible friend know for sure.

Oh, Paul... I wish I knew how to quit you.

Like his namesake, Paul Manata continues to see through a glass darkly, and thus fails to realize that the person he rails against is a reflection of his own ego. I am similarly under no illusion that Paul will be persuaded by rational argumentation, and don't think anything I write will have an effect on him, so I primarily write for the 500-or so regular readers of this blog, and the thousands of visitors it receives each month. I'm especially happy to be welcoming the 50 or so visitors from Triablogue that have come over... you might actually learn something here.

It's a bit sad to see Paul thrashing about, appealing to his readers to vouch for the validity of his attacks on me. Apparently he thinks that simply by virtue of quoting me verbatim at length, he somehow can't be blamed for ignoring my statements and trying to put arguments in my mouth. For example, his clumsy assumption that my reference to "one organ among others" was the fetus, rather than the uterus. Without an effort at reading comprehension on his part it's no wonder there are so many blunders; I would spare myself the tedium of correcting him point by point unless I thought it would achieve anything useful. It's a bit like watching a wrestler in the ring trying to grapple with an invisible opponent, and looking up desperately to the audience to verify his victory. While the actual opponent has started to walk away out of sheer boredom and pity... and yet...

Even though Paul has failed to grasp the point that personal sovereignty is independent of the 'humanity' of a fetus, he has nonetheless insisted on it for his own arguments. Yes, he has hidden behind claims of irrelevancy, but even though I know how Reformed apologists loathe to argue for their own positions, I can't help feeling that it's a burden of which he needs to relieve himself.

As does his faithful reader, Craig Sowder, who posted this in the comments:
Paul,

I would be interested in seeing how you would defend the personhood of the fetus scientifically. I had said in one of my comments to Zach that I always considered "personhood" to be a metaphysical category rather than a scientific one. I mean, you can see cells, organs, limbs, etc. under a microscope, but you don't see "personhood", right? Maybe I'm not understanding what you mean when you say it's easy to prove it scientifically.
That makes two of us, Craig. Paul responds to this by saying:
I can use all the evidence of embryology and show that the fetus has it's own unique human DNA, it is a unified organism, it directs itself towards next stages of life, it is living, etc., etc., etc. So it is a human being. The offspring of humans. If not, what species is it?
And Paul steps into and even bigger scientific mess by invoking the concept of 'species,' which I've pointed out many times is rife with conceptual problems of its own. The things Paul mentions here (human DNA, unified organism, etc) are all necessary qualities that a human being has, but they are not sufficient in themselves. Now, I'll gladly grant for the sake of this issue that having human DNA can give something the characteristic of "human" (leaving the XenoMouse to the side for now), but grants no more special status to any cell by the virtue of that distinction. An adipocyte may be 'human,' but that does not make it 'a human.' Neither does a 'human' leukocyte, a 'human' chondrocyte, nor a 'human' pericyte.

This clone of a human's hematocyte is a human being. Or not. Theologians are scouring the Bible for the words "somatic" "clone," and "ethics." They'll get back to you never.

Never one to let the subtleties of scientific evidence get past him, Paul assures Craig that he can easily appeal to authority in this matter:
I think, as virtually all embryologists agree, it is undeniable that it is a human. That part of the debate is fairly a closed case.
"THUS SAITH MANATA!" Unfortunately, in my embryology course we never were lectured about the humanity of a fetus. Oh, I have no doubt that embryologists will agree that a "human fetus" is 'human,' but whether or not it is a 'human being' is the burden on Paul's back, isn't it? It's one thing to mind-numbingly assert that fertilization is that sufficient cause from which human beings arise, but even this does little to answer the question I asked (and still unanswered) two posts ago:
At what moment did I become a human being? When my father's sperm came in contact with my mother's egg? But when, precisely? When the sperm passed the corona radiata? When it entered, or after it had passed, the zona pellucida? Before or after the cell membranes fused? Before or after the second meiotic division of the egg? Before or after the first mitotic division? At what stage of mitosis: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase?
Human development, if it is anything, is a temporal process. At one end of the process, there exist cells that are human, but not a 'human being.' On this we can nearly all agree. At the other end of the process, there is a 'human being.' The question I'd like to see answered by the all-knowing Manata, is when? When in the process of human development are there sufficient characteristics to call something a 'human being?' Please see the above quote for the level of precision I'm looking for.

Anticipating failure at this task, Paul runs from the scientific evidence he once championed:
...if pro-choicers want to add to the limits of science and argue that the findings of science are not enough to show t's[sic] full humanity, that we need to run to the philosophers to determine these questions, so be it.
Ah, yes. Smelling the stink of his own defeat, Paul throws clods of dirt at the evil scientists, who thrive perversely at the limits of science, and retreats back to the realm of philosophy, where curious notions like 'evidence' matter so much less than 'QED.' I certainly hope he enjoys the respite, and I'll keep a frosty mug waiting in case he ventures back into the fray.

Killing Babies With Science

This cell is a human being. Or maybe it isn't. Only Paul Manata and his invisible friend know for sure.

Oh, Paul... I wish I knew how to quit you.

Like his namesake, Paul Manata continues to see through a glass darkly, and thus fails to realize that the person he rails against is a reflection of his own ego. I am similarly under no illusion that Paul will be persuaded by rational argumentation, and don't think anything I write will have an effect on him, so I primarily write for the 500-or so regular readers of this blog, and the thousands of visitors it receives each month. I'm especially happy to be welcoming the 50 or so visitors from Triablogue that have come over... you might actually learn something here.

It's a bit sad to see Paul thrashing about, appealing to his readers to vouch for the validity of his attacks on me. Apparently he thinks that simply by virtue of quoting me verbatim at length, he somehow can't be blamed for ignoring my statements and trying to put arguments in my mouth. For example, his clumsy assumption that my reference to "one organ among others" was the fetus, rather than the uterus. Without an effort at reading comprehension on his part it's no wonder there are so many blunders; I would spare myself the tedium of correcting him point by point unless I thought it would achieve anything useful. It's a bit like watching a wrestler in the ring trying to grapple with an invisible opponent, and looking up desperately to the audience to verify his victory. While the actual opponent has started to walk away out of sheer boredom and pity... and yet...

Even though Paul has failed to grasp the point that personal sovereignty is independent of the 'humanity' of a fetus, he has nonetheless insisted on it for his own arguments. Yes, he has hidden behind claims of irrelevancy, but even though I know how Reformed apologists loathe to argue for their own positions, I can't help feeling that it's a burden of which he needs to relieve himself.

As does his faithful reader, Craig Sowder, who posted this in the comments:
Paul,

I would be interested in seeing how you would defend the personhood of the fetus scientifically. I had said in one of my comments to Zach that I always considered "personhood" to be a metaphysical category rather than a scientific one. I mean, you can see cells, organs, limbs, etc. under a microscope, but you don't see "personhood", right? Maybe I'm not understanding what you mean when you say it's easy to prove it scientifically.
That makes two of us, Craig. Paul responds to this by saying:
I can use all the evidence of embryology and show that the fetus has it's own unique human DNA, it is a unified organism, it directs itself towards next stages of life, it is living, etc., etc., etc. So it is a human being. The offspring of humans. If not, what species is it?
And Paul steps into and even bigger scientific mess by invoking the concept of 'species,' which I've pointed out many times is rife with conceptual problems of its own. The things Paul mentions here (human DNA, unified organism, etc) are all necessary qualities that a human being has, but they are not sufficient in themselves. Now, I'll gladly grant for the sake of this issue that having human DNA can give something the characteristic of "human" (leaving the XenoMouse to the side for now), but grants no more special status to any cell by the virtue of that distinction. An adipocyte may be 'human,' but that does not make it 'a human.' Neither does a 'human' leukocyte, a 'human' chondrocyte, nor a 'human' pericyte.

This clone of a human's hematocyte is a human being. Or not. Theologians are scouring the Bible for the words "somatic" "clone," and "ethics." They'll get back to you never.

Never one to let the subtleties of scientific evidence get past him, Paul assures Craig that he can easily appeal to authority in this matter:
I think, as virtually all embryologists agree, it is undeniable that it is a human. That part of the debate is fairly a closed case.
"THUS SAITH MANATA!" Unfortunately, in my embryology course we never were lectured about the humanity of a fetus. Oh, I have no doubt that embryologists will agree that a "human fetus" is 'human,' but whether or not it is a 'human being' is the burden on Paul's back, isn't it? It's one thing to mind-numbingly assert that fertilization is that sufficient cause from which human beings arise, but even this does little to answer the question I asked (and still unanswered) two posts ago:
At what moment did I become a human being? When my father's sperm came in contact with my mother's egg? But when, precisely? When the sperm passed the corona radiata? When it entered, or after it had passed, the zona pellucida? Before or after the cell membranes fused? Before or after the second meiotic division of the egg? Before or after the first mitotic division? At what stage of mitosis: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase?
Human development, if it is anything, is a temporal process. At one end of the process, there exist cells that are human, but not a 'human being.' On this we can nearly all agree. At the other end of the process, there is a 'human being.' The question I'd like to see answered by the all-knowing Manata, is when? When in the process of human development are there sufficient characteristics to call something a 'human being?' Please see the above quote for the level of precision I'm looking for.

Anticipating failure at this task, Paul runs from the scientific evidence he once championed:
...if pro-choicers want to add to the limits of science and argue that the findings of science are not enough to show t's[sic] full humanity, that we need to run to the philosophers to determine these questions, so be it.
Ah, yes. Smelling the stink of his own defeat, Paul throws clods of dirt at the evil scientists, who thrive perversely at the limits of science, and retreats back to the realm of philosophy, where curious notions like 'evidence' matter so much less than 'QED.' I certainly hope he enjoys the respite, and I'll keep a frosty mug waiting in case he ventures back into the fray.

Post-Coital Abortion Talk

This atheist is opposed to abortion because he knows the exquisite joy of barbecued baby-flesh. Nice and tender.

I can really feel the love. As is typical, Paul parlayed a 500-word comment into a 1000-word post, to which I responded with a 2000-word counter-post, now complemented by a 4000-word counter-counter-post. At the end of this intercourse, we may just have the makings of a book. ;)

Or not. I've been impressed by the size of Paul's 'philosophy' for years now. It stands tall and erect, clearly a triumph to the grace of whatever trinitarian (or quaternarian) deity is necessary to account for it. I'm usually happy to just sit back and watch it plunge in and out of whatever adversary Paul has the temerity to engage with. In this case, it's me, and I'm nearly spent.

But maybe I'll just share a little pillow-talk before I leave.

I'm sure that Paul would rather me forego the compliments; he's a humble man and would prefer me to stick to the arguments. His harranguing over the so-called "Utopian Principle" is getting tired, so I'll leave that alone; I'm as surprised as anyone that Paul is a hamster psychologist. His main thrust has been to assert the full humanity of the fetus. He claims that since my position is that personal sovereignty is without exception, if I were to grant that the fetus is human, my argument fails.

As I have already pointed out, I'm happy to do so. As I said, "Even if I were to follow Paul down his rabbit hole and grant that a fetus has the same sovereignty enjoyed by its mother, that only extends to within the fetus' own body. Once removed from its uterine environ, the fetus is free to exercise that sovereignty in whichever direction it likes."

Paul doesn't like my definition of sovereignty. But he also appears to not understand it. For whatever reason, he thinks that I'm talking about a 'right' to 'not have bad things happen to my body.' This is not the case. I'll repeat it again: it is the right to decide what things stay in one's body and what things stay out. I'd appreciate it if Paul actually used my premises, rather than just claim to use them. Thus, all his counterexamples fall apart like an unimplanted blastocyst.

I don't know if anyone else thinks it's a shame that Paul didn't provide us with the "scientific" argument for the full humanity of the fetus, especially since it's apparently one of the easiest arguments to make. I do. And even more especially since his entire argument rests on the humanity of the fetus, while mine does not. Seems like he has some more work to do. ;)

Until then, I'm happy to suggest Caffrey's as a viable libation alternative - it goes down a lot smoother than Reformed theology, and makes you feel less badly about yourself on Sunday morning!

Post-Coital Abortion Talk

This atheist is opposed to abortion because he knows the exquisite joy of barbecued baby-flesh. Nice and tender.

I can really feel the love. As is typical, Paul parlayed a 500-word comment into a 1000-word post, to which I responded with a 2000-word counter-post, now complemented by a 4000-word counter-counter-post. At the end of this intercourse, we may just have the makings of a book. ;)

Or not. I've been impressed by the size of Paul's 'philosophy' for years now. It stands tall and erect, clearly a triumph to the grace of whatever trinitarian (or quaternarian) deity is necessary to account for it. I'm usually happy to just sit back and watch it plunge in and out of whatever adversary Paul has the temerity to engage with. In this case, it's me, and I'm nearly spent.

But maybe I'll just share a little pillow-talk before I leave.

I'm sure that Paul would rather me forego the compliments; he's a humble man and would prefer me to stick to the arguments. His harranguing over the so-called "Utopian Principle" is getting tired, so I'll leave that alone; I'm as surprised as anyone that Paul is a hamster psychologist. His main thrust has been to assert the full humanity of the fetus. He claims that since my position is that personal sovereignty is without exception, if I were to grant that the fetus is human, my argument fails.

As I have already pointed out, I'm happy to do so. As I said, "Even if I were to follow Paul down his rabbit hole and grant that a fetus has the same sovereignty enjoyed by its mother, that only extends to within the fetus' own body. Once removed from its uterine environ, the fetus is free to exercise that sovereignty in whichever direction it likes."

Paul doesn't like my definition of sovereignty. But he also appears to not understand it. For whatever reason, he thinks that I'm talking about a 'right' to 'not have bad things happen to my body.' This is not the case. I'll repeat it again: it is the right to decide what things stay in one's body and what things stay out. I'd appreciate it if Paul actually used my premises, rather than just claim to use them. Thus, all his counterexamples fall apart like an unimplanted blastocyst.

I don't know if anyone else thinks it's a shame that Paul didn't provide us with the "scientific" argument for the full humanity of the fetus, especially since it's apparently one of the easiest arguments to make. I do. And even more especially since his entire argument rests on the humanity of the fetus, while mine does not. Seems like he has some more work to do. ;)

Until then, I'm happy to suggest Caffrey's as a viable libation alternative - it goes down a lot smoother than Reformed theology, and makes you feel less badly about yourself on Sunday morning!

Fun Times With Abortion

This little boy likes baseball and jellybeans, but God decided to abort him, just like the other thirty percent of pregnancies that end in miscarriage.

Huzzah! I count myself fortunate to receive the privilege of a rebuke from a man as wise and temperate as Paul Manata; a man who walks and talks with the bearing and authority of someone who speaks regularly with an omnipotent, omniscient, invisible friend.

In this instance (among many in which I've been graced with Paul's kind correction), we find that my flippant response to Craig Sowder's reposting of a post on Paul's own Triablogue (yes, it IS that convoluted) was sufficient to rouse Paul's desire to lend me some friendly advice. The response of mine in question:
I tend to think that in a perfect world, abortions would be rare, safe, and legal.
After writing this, I realized that the phrase "perfect world" would probably be taken all too literally. After all, in a "perfect world," birth control would never fail, right? I came back to clarify my use of that phrase to mean "the most optimal world that I can conceive." At this point, I was asked by Craig why rarity would be something I would hope for, if there was nothing immoral about abortion. Paul jumped on my answer to this question, which he neglected to quote in its entirety, but which I will do here:
The rarity I would like to see for these procedures isn't inspired by any intrinsic immorality, but because it's such a difficult choice for women, who have to choose between their procreative and self-preservative instincts. [emphasis added]
Paul claims that I have merely pointed out the existence of angst, and suggests that education is the solution:
...perhaps women should be educated. Why is there angst? They don't have the same angst when "departing" with unsightly moles. Indeed, one could argue that the angst is a holdover from theistic beliefs about the womb and conception. We need to educate the masses. And of course Moore's perfect world would have educated people, people with no holdovers from the ancient, dark times of man's history.
I don't think that any amount of education can alleviate the emotional strain of choosing between two contradictory instincts. This is not an intellectual matter we're dealing with- it's a subconscious, primordial battle between the basic neurological impulses nearly all animals share: SURVIVE. REPRODUCE. This conflict is only subject to philosophical gerrymandering by those who don't have to answer these calls. And these are truly effectual calls, mind you- not subject to reason, evidence, exegesis, or any such intellectual strategy. Thus, the "angst" Paul correctly identifies is not so easily assuaged, and thus I am not as confident as Paul that this could be ameliorated with simple education (would that it were so).

This little girl has been preordained to burn in Hell. Just look at her... what a slut! She totally deserves it.

My primary argument in favor of allowing abortion is that all human beings are sovereign over their own bodies. Thus, anything growing inside my body stays there only by my own approval (assuming that I have the available medical technology to remove it at my discretion). As Paul points out, with my argument the "personhood" of the fetus is immaterial. At first, he's comfortable dealing with my argument and offers a counterexample:
First, it's not true that all humans have sovereignty over their body and can do what they will with it making what they do ethically okay. They can't (well, shouldn't) strap bombs to it and run into occupied office buildings.
Perhaps Paul has not understood what I mean by "sovereignty" over one's body. He seems to think that I'm mounting a variation of Homer Simpson's "Pie Eating" argument: "All right pie, I'm just going to do this [opens and closes mouth] and if you get eaten it's your own fault!" I am not talking about things people do to each other with their bodies; I am talking specifically about the right to decide what things stay in one's body and what things stay out. That is, one has the right to decide what kind of food one wants to eat, what kind of aesthetic modifications can be made to one's body, and what kinds of medical procedures should be undertaken. Of the latter, these include the decision to undergo a cardiac bypass, the decision to undergo a gastric bypass, and the decision to bypass pain and suffering through euthanasia. Either Paul agrees that we have sovereignty over our bodies or he does not. If we do not, then we cannot decide for ourselves what kind of food to eat. It's possible that Paul's invisible friend tells him whether to choose Cheerios or Wheaties for breakfast. But if Paul does agree that we have sovereignty over our bodies, that only he has the right to decide if his malignant testicle should be removed, then he seems to be special pleading for women not to have the right to remove anything they want from their bodies as well.

This little boy enjoys molesting the neighbor girl and killing cats. He will murder his grandmother and since he is one of the Elect, he will go to Heaven.

Paul does me the favor of mounting a defensive argument for me:
Of course, Moore may say that their sovereignty stops just at that point where they are hindering another human's sovereignty over his or her body not to be blown to bits. But of course, as should be obvious, this response rather removes the teeth from his entire position. Indeed, Moore's (radical) libertarianism is undercut since he is now forced to add that some humans (the fetuses) do not have sovereignty over their bodies! It looks like special pleading to dismiss, out of hand, the fetus's sovereignty. Moore just can't think far enough to consider the logic of the case.
Although I appreciate the effort he has made on my behalf, he's running with the wrong assumption. I've already made it clear that I consider sovereignty to extend only to within one's own body for the sake of this argument. Paul's counterexample of a suicide bomber is simply the product of a categorical error. He's also assuming that I'm granting "human" or "person" status to a fetus, which I frankly have not; but again, it's immaterial to my argument. Even if I were to follow Paul down his rabbit hole and grant that a fetus has the same sovereignty enjoyed by its mother, that only extends to within the fetus' own body. Once removed from its uterine environ, the fetus is free to exercise that sovereignty in whichever direction it likes.

This little boy is loved and cared for by Christian parents, but will become an atheist and be damned to Hell.

It should be obvious by now why this next claim is erroneous:
Second, Moore basis[sic] rights on accidental features of the world, i.e., a person's location. Of course it's completely arbitrary to simply announce that one's location determines whether he has any right to life. Moore's placing the location in the womb is no more arbitrary than Hitler placing the location somewhere in the Middle East. In fact, as almost all ethicists will tell you, morally irrelevant facts shouldn't factor into moral principles. That's one reason why racism is ethically backwoods. It take a non-moral fact, skin color, and tries to make it a basis for moral facts. Skin color, location, size, level of development, etc., are morally irrelevant to questions of morality.
Nowhere in my argument have I talked about a "right to life." I've talked about the concept of sovereignty over one's own body. I suppose it wouldn't be a completely productive discussion about abortion without being compared to Hitler, but I'm not trying to remove privileges at all. In fact, the opposite is true- Paul, by special pleading against the complete sovereignty of women, would have us believe that one organ among all others is arbitrarily off-limits.

Paul wants to push the argument further, this time mounting an attack on behalf of Craig:
Third, another thing Craig might want to ask, it seems that not only do we have exceptions to murder, but sometimes parents don't have obligations toward their young children. Since we're dealing with a mother taking the life of her child, we have another moral consideration in play. Do we have exceptions here, too?
As has been shown previously, my argument is not one that advances a mother's right to take the life of her child. I've only argued that a woman's sovereignty is without exception, not that I am seeking exceptions as Paul does. Once born, of course, a baby is not necessarily dependent on its mother, and can be cared for by any number of people; this instance dramatically changes the moral situation. Further speculation along these lines is not germane to the question of a woman's sovereignty and abortion.

This little girl has every egg in her ovaries already fully-formed, and will exercise her sovereignty over them from her birth until their birth.

Fourth, as Moore should know, we can achieve conception in a Petri dish, soon we will be able to bring a child forth that spent all three trimesters in an artificial womb. Assume that Moore doesn't hold to "Petri dish sovereignty," would he then say (remembering that we assuming the humanity of the fetus since it supposedly "doesn't matter either way" for Moore's argument) that no one can kill these babies? What will happen to Moore's support for stem cell research, then?
At long last Paul has given us something to chew on. It's a great question, not least of which because there's no clear answer. However, I should make it clear that we're no longer dealing with my argument for sovereignty, since stem cells do not need to be cultured inside a woman's body. In engaging with the stem cell question, we finally have no choice but to grapple with the concept of "humanity" or "personhood." And my answer to this question is, though Paul may be disappointed by it, "I don't know." I don't hold to a neo-Platonic worldview, and therefore I don't feel epistemological pressure to categorize reality using Universal concepts. "Humanity," like "species" or "life" does not neatly intersect with the reality our senses and reason present to us. At what moment did I become a human being? When my father's sperm came in contact with my mother's egg? But when, precisely? When the sperm passed the corona radiata? When it entered, or after it had passed, the zona pellucida? Before or after the cell membranes fused? Before or after the second meiotic division of the egg? Before or after the first mitotic division? At what stage of mitosis: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase? The interim points, like Zeno's paradox, are infinite; yet a human is the result.

Thus, the question of personhood is not so simple. Although I can't speak with certainty on the matter, my moral instincts would be to ascribe a kind of provisional sovereignty to those who provide the initial cells for a stem cell colony. This would extend up to the point of their destruction or full-term development, in parallel with a uterine incubation. In this, however, sovereignty would be shared by both man and woman, since the woman's body is not required for the process described here.

For God so loved these stem cells, He sent His only begotten Son that they would not cure human disease, but sit in a Petri dish in Heaven.

I'm always glad to know that I've merited the attention of God's chosen, especially when there are so many more enjoyable things to do in Michigan's own Tulip Country. Between keeping one's wife pregnant, instilling a fear of The Lord in one's children, and drinking deeply of the Boddington's, I consider myself lucky to register on the radar. Cheers, sir!

Fun Times With Abortion

This little boy likes baseball and jellybeans, but God decided to abort him, just like the other thirty percent of pregnancies that end in miscarriage.

Huzzah! I count myself fortunate to receive the privilege of a rebuke from a man as wise and temperate as Paul Manata; a man who walks and talks with the bearing and authority of someone who speaks regularly with an omnipotent, omniscient, invisible friend.

In this instance (among many in which I've been graced with Paul's kind correction), we find that my flippant response to Craig Sowder's reposting of a post on Paul's own Triablogue (yes, it IS that convoluted) was sufficient to rouse Paul's desire to lend me some friendly advice. The response of mine in question:
I tend to think that in a perfect world, abortions would be rare, safe, and legal.
After writing this, I realized that the phrase "perfect world" would probably be taken all too literally. After all, in a "perfect world," birth control would never fail, right? I came back to clarify my use of that phrase to mean "the most optimal world that I can conceive." At this point, I was asked by Craig why rarity would be something I would hope for, if there was nothing immoral about abortion. Paul jumped on my answer to this question, which he neglected to quote in its entirety, but which I will do here:
The rarity I would like to see for these procedures isn't inspired by any intrinsic immorality, but because it's such a difficult choice for women, who have to choose between their procreative and self-preservative instincts. [emphasis added]
Paul claims that I have merely pointed out the existence of angst, and suggests that education is the solution:
...perhaps women should be educated. Why is there angst? They don't have the same angst when "departing" with unsightly moles. Indeed, one could argue that the angst is a holdover from theistic beliefs about the womb and conception. We need to educate the masses. And of course Moore's perfect world would have educated people, people with no holdovers from the ancient, dark times of man's history.
I don't think that any amount of education can alleviate the emotional strain of choosing between two contradictory instincts. This is not an intellectual matter we're dealing with- it's a subconscious, primordial battle between the basic neurological impulses nearly all animals share: SURVIVE. REPRODUCE. This conflict is only subject to philosophical gerrymandering by those who don't have to answer these calls. And these are truly effectual calls, mind you- not subject to reason, evidence, exegesis, or any such intellectual strategy. Thus, the "angst" Paul correctly identifies is not so easily assuaged, and thus I am not as confident as Paul that this could be ameliorated with simple education (would that it were so).

This little girl has been preordained to burn in Hell. Just look at her... what a slut! She totally deserves it.

My primary argument in favor of allowing abortion is that all human beings are sovereign over their own bodies. Thus, anything growing inside my body stays there only by my own approval (assuming that I have the available medical technology to remove it at my discretion). As Paul points out, with my argument the "personhood" of the fetus is immaterial. At first, he's comfortable dealing with my argument and offers a counterexample:
First, it's not true that all humans have sovereignty over their body and can do what they will with it making what they do ethically okay. They can't (well, shouldn't) strap bombs to it and run into occupied office buildings.
Perhaps Paul has not understood what I mean by "sovereignty" over one's body. He seems to think that I'm mounting a variation of Homer Simpson's "Pie Eating" argument: "All right pie, I'm just going to do this [opens and closes mouth] and if you get eaten it's your own fault!" I am not talking about things people do to each other with their bodies; I am talking specifically about the right to decide what things stay in one's body and what things stay out. That is, one has the right to decide what kind of food one wants to eat, what kind of aesthetic modifications can be made to one's body, and what kinds of medical procedures should be undertaken. Of the latter, these include the decision to undergo a cardiac bypass, the decision to undergo a gastric bypass, and the decision to bypass pain and suffering through euthanasia. Either Paul agrees that we have sovereignty over our bodies or he does not. If we do not, then we cannot decide for ourselves what kind of food to eat. It's possible that Paul's invisible friend tells him whether to choose Cheerios or Wheaties for breakfast. But if Paul does agree that we have sovereignty over our bodies, that only he has the right to decide if his malignant testicle should be removed, then he seems to be special pleading for women not to have the right to remove anything they want from their bodies as well.

This little boy enjoys molesting the neighbor girl and killing cats. He will murder his grandmother and since he is one of the Elect, he will go to Heaven.

Paul does me the favor of mounting a defensive argument for me:
Of course, Moore may say that their sovereignty stops just at that point where they are hindering another human's sovereignty over his or her body not to be blown to bits. But of course, as should be obvious, this response rather removes the teeth from his entire position. Indeed, Moore's (radical) libertarianism is undercut since he is now forced to add that some humans (the fetuses) do not have sovereignty over their bodies! It looks like special pleading to dismiss, out of hand, the fetus's sovereignty. Moore just can't think far enough to consider the logic of the case.
Although I appreciate the effort he has made on my behalf, he's running with the wrong assumption. I've already made it clear that I consider sovereignty to extend only to within one's own body for the sake of this argument. Paul's counterexample of a suicide bomber is simply the product of a categorical error. He's also assuming that I'm granting "human" or "person" status to a fetus, which I frankly have not; but again, it's immaterial to my argument. Even if I were to follow Paul down his rabbit hole and grant that a fetus has the same sovereignty enjoyed by its mother, that only extends to within the fetus' own body. Once removed from its uterine environ, the fetus is free to exercise that sovereignty in whichever direction it likes.

This little boy is loved and cared for by Christian parents, but will become an atheist and be damned to Hell.

It should be obvious by now why this next claim is erroneous:
Second, Moore basis[sic] rights on accidental features of the world, i.e., a person's location. Of course it's completely arbitrary to simply announce that one's location determines whether he has any right to life. Moore's placing the location in the womb is no more arbitrary than Hitler placing the location somewhere in the Middle East. In fact, as almost all ethicists will tell you, morally irrelevant facts shouldn't factor into moral principles. That's one reason why racism is ethically backwoods. It take a non-moral fact, skin color, and tries to make it a basis for moral facts. Skin color, location, size, level of development, etc., are morally irrelevant to questions of morality.
Nowhere in my argument have I talked about a "right to life." I've talked about the concept of sovereignty over one's own body. I suppose it wouldn't be a completely productive discussion about abortion without being compared to Hitler, but I'm not trying to remove privileges at all. In fact, the opposite is true- Paul, by special pleading against the complete sovereignty of women, would have us believe that one organ among all others is arbitrarily off-limits.

Paul wants to push the argument further, this time mounting an attack on behalf of Craig:
Third, another thing Craig might want to ask, it seems that not only do we have exceptions to murder, but sometimes parents don't have obligations toward their young children. Since we're dealing with a mother taking the life of her child, we have another moral consideration in play. Do we have exceptions here, too?
As has been shown previously, my argument is not one that advances a mother's right to take the life of her child. I've only argued that a woman's sovereignty is without exception, not that I am seeking exceptions as Paul does. Once born, of course, a baby is not necessarily dependent on its mother, and can be cared for by any number of people; this instance dramatically changes the moral situation. Further speculation along these lines is not germane to the question of a woman's sovereignty and abortion.

This little girl has every egg in her ovaries already fully-formed, and will exercise her sovereignty over them from her birth until their birth.

Fourth, as Moore should know, we can achieve conception in a Petri dish, soon we will be able to bring a child forth that spent all three trimesters in an artificial womb. Assume that Moore doesn't hold to "Petri dish sovereignty," would he then say (remembering that we assuming the humanity of the fetus since it supposedly "doesn't matter either way" for Moore's argument) that no one can kill these babies? What will happen to Moore's support for stem cell research, then?
At long last Paul has given us something to chew on. It's a great question, not least of which because there's no clear answer. However, I should make it clear that we're no longer dealing with my argument for sovereignty, since stem cells do not need to be cultured inside a woman's body. In engaging with the stem cell question, we finally have no choice but to grapple with the concept of "humanity" or "personhood." And my answer to this question is, though Paul may be disappointed by it, "I don't know." I don't hold to a neo-Platonic worldview, and therefore I don't feel epistemological pressure to categorize reality using Universal concepts. "Humanity," like "species" or "life" does not neatly intersect with the reality our senses and reason present to us. At what moment did I become a human being? When my father's sperm came in contact with my mother's egg? But when, precisely? When the sperm passed the corona radiata? When it entered, or after it had passed, the zona pellucida? Before or after the cell membranes fused? Before or after the second meiotic division of the egg? Before or after the first mitotic division? At what stage of mitosis: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase? The interim points, like Zeno's paradox, are infinite; yet a human is the result.

Thus, the question of personhood is not so simple. Although I can't speak with certainty on the matter, my moral instincts would be to ascribe a kind of provisional sovereignty to those who provide the initial cells for a stem cell colony. This would extend up to the point of their destruction or full-term development, in parallel with a uterine incubation. In this, however, sovereignty would be shared by both man and woman, since the woman's body is not required for the process described here.

For God so loved these stem cells, He sent His only begotten Son that they would not cure human disease, but sit in a Petri dish in Heaven.

I'm always glad to know that I've merited the attention of God's chosen, especially when there are so many more enjoyable things to do in Michigan's own Tulip Country. Between keeping one's wife pregnant, instilling a fear of The Lord in one's children, and drinking deeply of the Boddington's, I consider myself lucky to register on the radar. Cheers, sir!

Religulous Review

Religulous is funny to me, without a doubt. The question is, is it funny to mainstream people who take their own faith and beliefs as seriously as the wackos Bill Maher interviews in his documentary?

I'd be interested to know.

The movie exists in three layers: 1) a personal journey for Maher himself, raised in a religiously-mixed home, who spends time unpacking his early experiences of religion with his (largely agnostic) mother and sister; 2) a rogues' gallery survey of the absolute weirdest, clueless, and hypocritical religious individuals (confined to the Abrahamic faiths) he could find in America and Europe; 3) a potent argument against religious fervor in the face of increased global reach and military might that threatens to actually acheive the theological wet-dream apocalypse conceived of by the prophets of ages past.

Maher fancies himself as something of a Doubt Fairy; popping into truck-stop trailer-churches to ask difficult questions (and anger large men), or appearing on Speakers' Corner to lay bare the core tenets of the Church of Scientology. Many times he's just a wry observer, as when he visited the Creation Museum with Ken Ham, or speaks with a man who believes himself to be the second-coming of Jesus Christ. But between these visits we also get to peek into Maher's own thought process, to gain some understanding of the agnosticism he feels to be a virtue, and appreciate the method of his fascination with madness.

The pacing and editing is extraordinarily clever, although I suspect the few background sound effects will become significantly less funny on repeat viewings. It's particularly good towards the end of the movie, where scenes cut immediately from one religious person making a dogmatic pronouncement of some kind, directly to another religious person making the exact opposite pronouncement with the exact same conviction as his counterpart.

Bill Maher's message strains at the proverbial gnat when he delves into the same Historical Jesus material already covered by The God Who Wasn't There. He throws out some of the parallels without much context, which looks great to the unfamiliar but is hopelessly unsufficient to its subject. Even without Richard Carrier's recent discoveries, this line of argumentation is far too complex for a throwaway portion of a larger work.

Without a doubt, atheists and freethinkers will find this movie utterly hilarious, at least worth one viewing. My guess is that Christians, Jews, and Muslims will laugh as well, most loudly at the faiths they don't personally hold, and more softly and nervously when their own belief system is held up for inspection. Whether they laugh or not, I'd like to hope that the message at the end of the movie is taken to heart: One's personal beliefs should not be grounds for genocide.

Religulous Review

Religulous is funny to me, without a doubt. The question is, is it funny to mainstream people who take their own faith and beliefs as seriously as the wackos Bill Maher interviews in his documentary?

I'd be interested to know.

The movie exists in three layers: 1) a personal journey for Maher himself, raised in a religiously-mixed home, who spends time unpacking his early experiences of religion with his (largely agnostic) mother and sister; 2) a rogues' gallery survey of the absolute weirdest, clueless, and hypocritical religious individuals (confined to the Abrahamic faiths) he could find in America and Europe; 3) a potent argument against religious fervor in the face of increased global reach and military might that threatens to actually acheive the theological wet-dream apocalypse conceived of by the prophets of ages past.

Maher fancies himself as something of a Doubt Fairy; popping into truck-stop trailer-churches to ask difficult questions (and anger large men), or appearing on Speakers' Corner to lay bare the core tenets of the Church of Scientology. Many times he's just a wry observer, as when he visited the Creation Museum with Ken Ham, or speaks with a man who believes himself to be the second-coming of Jesus Christ. But between these visits we also get to peek into Maher's own thought process, to gain some understanding of the agnosticism he feels to be a virtue, and appreciate the method of his fascination with madness.

The pacing and editing is extraordinarily clever, although I suspect the few background sound effects will become significantly less funny on repeat viewings. It's particularly good towards the end of the movie, where scenes cut immediately from one religious person making a dogmatic pronouncement of some kind, directly to another religious person making the exact opposite pronouncement with the exact same conviction as his counterpart.

Bill Maher's message strains at the proverbial gnat when he delves into the same Historical Jesus material already covered by The God Who Wasn't There. He throws out some of the parallels without much context, which looks great to the unfamiliar but is hopelessly unsufficient to its subject. Even without Richard Carrier's recent discoveries, this line of argumentation is far too complex for a throwaway portion of a larger work.

Without a doubt, atheists and freethinkers will find this movie utterly hilarious, at least worth one viewing. My guess is that Christians, Jews, and Muslims will laugh as well, most loudly at the faiths they don't personally hold, and more softly and nervously when their own belief system is held up for inspection. Whether they laugh or not, I'd like to hope that the message at the end of the movie is taken to heart: One's personal beliefs should not be grounds for genocide.

Kosher Blasphemy

Nicely done. Click the monkeys to see a "Kosher" version of the Religulous trailer.

Kosher Blasphemy

Nicely done. Click the monkeys to see a "Kosher" version of the Religulous trailer.

A Prayerful Of Dollars

I've mentioned previously that I receive regular email updates from the Village Church here in the North Texas area. For as long as I've known about it, that church has been an amazing success story... their lead pastor, Matt Chandler, came in to an old church and injected lots of life into it, bringing people by the thousands every week, and even expanding their campus from Highland Village up into Denton, and now expanding into Flower Mound.

...except that now there's a problem. The money that they need to start construction in the new location (about $10 million) isn't there yet. When they decided to move forward, they wanted $3 million in hand, and the rest in "faith promises" from their congregation- they have slightly less than half that amount. Needless to say, this presents something of a theological (and, by extension, existential) crises for Matt- if he's doing God's work, and if people are coming in droves to be saved and baptized, surely there should be money to spare! God takes care of his own, does He not?

Matt confesses some of his own questions:

Is there too much "me" in this thing? Do we not see the correlation between the lives that are being changed and having room for those lives to come in? How is it possible that only a few of the thousands of people at The Village are willing to give monthly to the project that they (covenant members) voted to do? Is this where we are in our maturation? How is it possible with all of the life- changes, salvations and baptisms that we are seeing that more of you are not buying into this? Have we not communicated well? I'm not sure I know the answers to these questions but they have been keeping me up at night.


I know they're superficially rhetorical and subconsciously directed to God (a la Job), but maybe I can take a crack at them below:

No, Matt, there isn't enough of "you" in "this thing." You're a charismatic leader, and without question this church has grown by leaps and bounds because everyone there loves you. When I visited your church, I asked person after person why they loved the Village Church, and although nobody could give me any specific theological answer, they all gushed about how great you are and how wonderful the church made them feel. The problem is, you can't have it both ways. You can build a new facility, you can hire more pastors, you can spruce up your website, but you can't replicate yourself. The only way for you to keep the church growing is to televise your services; and that represents everything about Christianity that I know you hate.

Yes, Matt, people are aware of the correlation between having more space and being able to impact more lives. They're not stupid. But not everyone is necessarily in agreement, not everybody thinks that God is asking them (even though you ask on behalf of Him) to donate, and quite frankly, not everyone has the resources to donate. Attracting people is one thing; attracting people who agree wholeheartedly with your vision, and who have wallets big enough to contribute significantly is a completely different thing. Trust me, in my short experience with the North Texas Church of Freethought, I've had to learn this lesson quickly, and we don't even have to deal with people who think God talks to them.

Yes, Matt, this may very well be where the Village Church matures. Believe it or not, churches grow, mature, and die. They also evolve, which is what you prompted when you arrived. I realize that you think God is motivating and supporting you, and I'm sure that feels wonderful, but riding the waves of ecstasy in the good times means that it'll seem like God abandons you in the bad times. And I'm sure you'll find some way to rationalize or accept (a la Job) this failure of theology, but at the same time I hope that you don't view God's abandoning of the Village Church as a commandment for you to abandon it to seek that same thrill in a new church that you take over and grow. Try not to lose sight of the fact that for whatever reason, you brighten the lives of the people in your church, and I'd hate to see you forsake that because you manage to convince yourself that God wants you to grow another church somewhere else.

In a final plea, Matt turns to the only thing he trusts: Prayer.

We truly are at a crossroads. Will you pray with me? Will you fast with me? Can we seek God's face on this thing together? Not for money. The money will be there or it won't. God has never lacked resources for what He wants to do.


And therein lies the psychological splinter at the root of this festering problem. Matt desperately wants to know God's will, but he can't possibly. Yes, he's praying for dollars, but much more deeply, he's praying for validation. My only concern is that since God is mute (or, at best, no more helpful than a magic 8-ball), Matt will inevitably superimpose the only will he has access to (his own) for God's. And that rarely works out well for anyone.

A Prayerful Of Dollars

I've mentioned previously that I receive regular email updates from the Village Church here in the North Texas area. For as long as I've known about it, that church has been an amazing success story... their lead pastor, Matt Chandler, came in to an old church and injected lots of life into it, bringing people by the thousands every week, and even expanding their campus from Highland Village up into Denton, and now expanding into Flower Mound.

...except that now there's a problem. The money that they need to start construction in the new location (about $10 million) isn't there yet. When they decided to move forward, they wanted $3 million in hand, and the rest in "faith promises" from their congregation- they have slightly less than half that amount. Needless to say, this presents something of a theological (and, by extension, existential) crises for Matt- if he's doing God's work, and if people are coming in droves to be saved and baptized, surely there should be money to spare! God takes care of his own, does He not?

Matt confesses some of his own questions:

Is there too much "me" in this thing? Do we not see the correlation between the lives that are being changed and having room for those lives to come in? How is it possible that only a few of the thousands of people at The Village are willing to give monthly to the project that they (covenant members) voted to do? Is this where we are in our maturation? How is it possible with all of the life- changes, salvations and baptisms that we are seeing that more of you are not buying into this? Have we not communicated well? I'm not sure I know the answers to these questions but they have been keeping me up at night.


I know they're superficially rhetorical and subconsciously directed to God (a la Job), but maybe I can take a crack at them below:

No, Matt, there isn't enough of "you" in "this thing." You're a charismatic leader, and without question this church has grown by leaps and bounds because everyone there loves you. When I visited your church, I asked person after person why they loved the Village Church, and although nobody could give me any specific theological answer, they all gushed about how great you are and how wonderful the church made them feel. The problem is, you can't have it both ways. You can build a new facility, you can hire more pastors, you can spruce up your website, but you can't replicate yourself. The only way for you to keep the church growing is to televise your services; and that represents everything about Christianity that I know you hate.

Yes, Matt, people are aware of the correlation between having more space and being able to impact more lives. They're not stupid. But not everyone is necessarily in agreement, not everybody thinks that God is asking them (even though you ask on behalf of Him) to donate, and quite frankly, not everyone has the resources to donate. Attracting people is one thing; attracting people who agree wholeheartedly with your vision, and who have wallets big enough to contribute significantly is a completely different thing. Trust me, in my short experience with the North Texas Church of Freethought, I've had to learn this lesson quickly, and we don't even have to deal with people who think God talks to them.

Yes, Matt, this may very well be where the Village Church matures. Believe it or not, churches grow, mature, and die. They also evolve, which is what you prompted when you arrived. I realize that you think God is motivating and supporting you, and I'm sure that feels wonderful, but riding the waves of ecstasy in the good times means that it'll seem like God abandons you in the bad times. And I'm sure you'll find some way to rationalize or accept (a la Job) this failure of theology, but at the same time I hope that you don't view God's abandoning of the Village Church as a commandment for you to abandon it to seek that same thrill in a new church that you take over and grow. Try not to lose sight of the fact that for whatever reason, you brighten the lives of the people in your church, and I'd hate to see you forsake that because you manage to convince yourself that God wants you to grow another church somewhere else.

In a final plea, Matt turns to the only thing he trusts: Prayer.

We truly are at a crossroads. Will you pray with me? Will you fast with me? Can we seek God's face on this thing together? Not for money. The money will be there or it won't. God has never lacked resources for what He wants to do.


And therein lies the psychological splinter at the root of this festering problem. Matt desperately wants to know God's will, but he can't possibly. Yes, he's praying for dollars, but much more deeply, he's praying for validation. My only concern is that since God is mute (or, at best, no more helpful than a magic 8-ball), Matt will inevitably superimpose the only will he has access to (his own) for God's. And that rarely works out well for anyone.

Reading the Antithesis

My good friend Dan Sawyer is quite the polymath, as I've known since first crossing paths with him on ExChristian.Net. Many other people know this as well, from his appearances on the Infidel Guy show, his own podcast (The Polyschizmatic Reprobates' Hour), as well as from his participation in the Apologia discussion.

What you may not know is that he's also an ambitious artist, photographer, director, and author- the former which find an outlet at ArtisticWhispers Productions, and the latter which spills over into JDSawyer.Net. You can find there his latest project: an audio production of his novel, "Predestination (and Other Games of Chance)," which is the first in his "Antithesis" series.

Most of you are avid podcasters (consumers and producers, as am I), but may not have considered the possibility of a story being told in serial form through this medium. I have to confess, I never gave it much thought until listening to Dan's first attempt with this short story collection "Sculpting God." Take a few minutes to swing over to Dan's site and subscribe to the feed- I hope you enjoy it as much as I am.

Reading the Antithesis

My good friend Dan Sawyer is quite the polymath, as I've known since first crossing paths with him on ExChristian.Net. Many other people know this as well, from his appearances on the Infidel Guy show, his own podcast (The Polyschizmatic Reprobates' Hour), as well as from his participation in the Apologia discussion.

What you may not know is that he's also an ambitious artist, photographer, director, and author- the former which find an outlet at ArtisticWhispers Productions, and the latter which spills over into JDSawyer.Net. You can find there his latest project: an audio production of his novel, "Predestination (and Other Games of Chance)," which is the first in his "Antithesis" series.

Most of you are avid podcasters (consumers and producers, as am I), but may not have considered the possibility of a story being told in serial form through this medium. I have to confess, I never gave it much thought until listening to Dan's first attempt with this short story collection "Sculpting God." Take a few minutes to swing over to Dan's site and subscribe to the feed- I hope you enjoy it as much as I am.