Mr. McDonald,

Twitter can be a difficult way to hold a conversation. I wanted to take this route to make my position clear to you.

My stock answer about AGW -- and my sincere belief -- is that climate science is an important field but should not be used as a political tool to control the lives of individuals. I am deeply concerned that this is the agenda of the IPCC.

To my observation, the AGW debate -- particularly in the United Nations -- has been about politics and money. AGW has become a tool to promote the political aspirations of both domestic and foreign politicians. As such, the publicity and the politics seem to me to infect the science. Most predictions are driven by computer models, whose inaccuracies are now well documented. I have seen little willingness of those who make wild predictions to be accountable for their follies. This does not cultivate an atmosphere of trust.

Perhaps the more disturbing aspect of the AGW debate is the irresponsible witch hunt mentality that characterizes it. Those who question  consensus -- one of the purest scientific acts imaginable -- are not only branded as irresponsible but treated with such vile contempt (e.g. comparisons to Holocaust deniers) that it brings into question the motives and character of those who claim an AGW consensus. 

The hallmark of a skeptic is not stubbornness. It is openness. I have seen enough science that makes me question consensus. Not only is this fair, it should be desirable. To report on the IPCC is not to report on climate science. They are a political body. To report on the science involves, in my opinion, two crucial factors:

1. Recognize that there is a legitimate, non-trivial scientific skepticism.
2. Seek to disprove both sides.

As I follow climate science, I try to do both. I am fully aware of the scientific basis for skepticism of AGW. I regularly admit and reject information from both sides. That, to me, is the only way to approach this, and I apply that mentality to anything. For example, when it comes to nutritional science, I treat the latest pronouncement like Texas weather: just wait a bit and it will change radically. This has been the case with cholesterol, fat, butter, salt, and so on. The hype obscures the science.

As for climate science, I apply Occam's Razor to it. Given the wild climate fluxuations over our planet's history, I find it difficult to substantiate the supposed imminent doom due to CO2 which is at the same time so beneficial to life and so minute a fraction of our atmosphere. Industrial CO2 emission is still, for me, an unnecessary entity when compared to at least three theories that stand in its way.

1. I follow the science of core samples -- used by all climate scientists -- which indicates that historical warming periods precede CO2 rises by up to 800 years.

2. I also follow the science on solar activity, which indicates that not only do sunspots play a major role in the climate of our planet, but does so throughout the solar system.

3. The way the ocean traps and releases heat is a significant factor. To wit, although it may be storing CO2, it may also be releasing heat stored from many thousands of years ago.

These are not trivial concerns, nor are they dreamed up by crackpots. They are the subject of research by serious, dedicated scientists. If we simply dismiss these things and glom on to a majority opinion, we do ourselves a huge injustice. We should understand these theories and reject them if the science is not sound. But this is not what is happening. Instead, there is a sustained chorus of "DENIER!" and attempts to slander and brand as heretics those who pursue an understanding of these issues. 

If I forego critical thought and merely "accept the consensus," I am really saying I do not understand the thing but am acting on faith and heeding the authority of an established orthodoxy. This is no different than a religious orthodoxy, where those who are adept with the canonical writings are outraged if the "unenlightened" question their authority. But I believe a critical thinker -- even one who is not a climate scientist -- can understand much of this. It is neither paranormal nor mystical.

I hope you understand I am trying to have a conversation that is not just civil, but hopefully one that is enlightening.

Sincerely yours,
Aaron Dyer

There are so many ways our federal government goes wrong. Most of them fall under the broad heading of Futile Posturing. I will deal only with education in this post.

Mistaking windmills for giants, Don Quixote said, "Fortune is guiding our affairs better than we ourselves could have wished." This case of mistaken identity was compounded by Quixote's claim that he could single-handedly defeat dozens of giants. If he believed he could defeat them, he was delusional. If he did not, it was mere posturing. If the windmills were actual giants, he would be dead.

Thus it is with the federal government and the U.S. public education system. To hear any President of the United States talk about the importance of education is theoretically commendable. But to hear the President claim to be able to do something about it is perverse.

Our federal government is a joke because it claims to be able to affect so many things from which it is far removed, and for which it is, by design, a cheerleader and silent partner. Short of passing unconstitutional laws that nationalize education, the only thing the federal government can do about education is to bring the economy to such ruin that state governments will choose to trade their sovereignty for solvency. States will then implement bureaucratic nonsense masquerading as practical policy, and billions of dollars more will be spent. Meanwhile, the United States continues to fall in global educational prestige.

The president can draw his sword, proclaim victory to his sidekicks, and make grandiose gestures at the American educational system. But, even extorting state governments, the federal government is powerless to do what it claims. It cannot teach a single child or implement a single policy that will conquer the giant that is a crime-spawning ogre. Teens and young adults who know nothing about their world, their society, or their own language, add to a population that sees no open doors of opportunity. It feeds in a trough of physical circumstance that offers little more than crime, government handouts, or both, as a means to make it to next week. This population is not a motionless windmill. It is a giant of hopelessness and despair that not only grows but threatens to inhabit the seats of government that will repeat the same baseless claim to defeat itself.

The best thing we can do for education is to ignore the federal government and recognize education as not a product to pay for, but a life-long state of mind. Each parent has to demonstrate a practical effort to learn more each day, and imprint that attitude on his or her children. Math, reading, etc. are general subjects. They are vessels from which greater things are taken by the student than just tests and homework. Our local schools must not be afraid to teach the unlimited potential of each child. They must teach that each student is not a specimen shackled to biology and statistics, but is an individual capable of both envisioning and achieving  the achievements that fulfill their highest aspirations. Our schools must teach the value of each practical step and the virtue of patience.

If the President of the United States wants to say this, I applaud it. But when he claims that the government over which he presides can slay the giants of ignorance and want, he deserves no applause, only the pity that a Sancho Panza can confer to a demented friend.

I saw this article that said one third of people don't believe in evolution. It stated that only 43% of Republicans and 67% of Democrats believe in evolution. Two things about this:

First, I believe this is misleading. On the one hand, the article states that the one third believe humans have always existed in their present form. This is not necessarily the same as "not believing in evolution." We are probably talking about great numbers of people who have no thought at all on the subject but who, when asked, have no reason to doubt that humans have always been human. There may be some who outright reject a concept of human evolution, but I suspect this is a tiny majority of the third.

Second, what's the big deal? Is it really important that everyone "believe in evolution?" I understand evolution as a concept, and I understand evolution of the species as a theory. I suppose it's all pretty reasonably worked out. But I don't give a damn. It's not important, people! Our daily lives are not governed by evolution, and to claim they are is to misunderstand evolution itself.

I think the average idiot realizes if you kill all the tigers there are no more tigers. Only a very few people actually think another animal -- such as a bear -- could turn into a tiger to replace the ones we slaughtered. And those few people are lying about it.

The average idiot knows humans reproduce humans, not koalas. They all understand survival of a species through reproduction without any evolutionary scholarly twaddle. They understand that if you mate two men or two women, you don't get babies. They know this stuff pretty well, I think, without a lecture on how disapproving the academics find them to be.

Part of the theory of evolution is that the process happens over great spans of time without my knowledge or consent. I'm unaware of it. And I don't care. It's a theory. I have no stake in whether it is true or false. It has precisely zero application to improving our economy, our environment, or our daily lives. Its sole use, outside of passing a course on it, is to separate people into classes of believers and heretics. 

Science is the attempt to explain the obvious. The theory of human evolution is an attempt, and it's as good as any, I suppose. Hey, I get evolution. I'm just fine with it. I'm also fine without it.  Most people are ignorant of far more pertinent things than evolution, things that actually make a difference in our world. Too many people don't believe it is beneficial to be able to read or write coherently; that they don't have to obey the law; that ethical behavior has no relevance to their lives.  These attitudes are more deplorable than adherence to beliefs in the descent of man.

Too many people actually believe they can get something for free. They don't believe their words and actions have any negative consequences -- to themselves or others.

Try this on for size: What percent of people believe that the way they live their lives actually matches what they say they believe? Does this make a difference in society? In the presence of war and poverty?

Let's deal with these meaningful things and put "believing in evolution" at the end of the list. I can't imagine a day when we regret doing that.

December 13, 2013

Our culture shows us images of our thoughts. Thoughts of good or of evil, prosperity or poverty, nobility or depravity. These are mental, but not merely fantasies or musings that have little bearing on our outward lives. When we are attentive to what these images mean beneath the surface, they reveal extraordinary possibilities. 

I submit to you that what we call now -- physical evidence of a moment in space and time -- is not "living in the present." It is a static representation of a mental image. The real "here and now" is something you may find that you visit with surprising rarity. The true present is dynamic, a constant readiness for change, a perpetual activity of leaving behind and picking up anew. 

I further submit to you that the real "now" is your capacity to press towards the future of the goodness and immortality that your mental images offer you. The ideals you perceive in thought are the real you. Your life work to live those ideals may seem to be always in the future, but it is, in fact, the true sense of living in the present.

During my project to have myself filmed during a piano recital and then get the video produced, I've taken time to view other pianists on YouTube from a different perspective.

I've had to learn to communicate with the film editors (before I took over the job). I didn't realize, at first, my responsibility to provide them with the vision of what a solo classical performance should look like. There are many ways to present a performance, but I quickly learned to repeat my new mantra, "Authenticity is everything."

The photo above is 5202 Kapaka Street in Hawaii. I used to enjoy spectacular photos of beaches. But they were never quite what I was looking for. Now that I've preached "authenticity is everything" so much, I've come to realize it's not something I always have in my life. I have to look for it. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's fakery. So many "spectacular" photographs are retouched and even photoshopped (I'm looking at you, @EarthPics, that they bear little resemblance to reality.

The photo of 5202 Kapaka Street is courtesy of Google Maps. These people aren't really out to create stunning photography. Most of what is there is not even a decent exposure. There are, however, some really great scenes. Everything is on the road, naturally. If you are patient and look for it, you can find things that interest you. Inasmuch as it is a photograph, after all, it more closely resembles to me what is authentic than any of the other retouched products. So now I have grown to search for PC wallpapers only on Google Maps. I tire of the produced images, and even those who make them tire of them so that the moon is the size of Jupiter and sometimes the moon is replaced by Jupiter.

Music videos -- the proverbial MTV type of thing -- are really just subliminal messages. An authentic performance is practically anathema to it. But a classical piano recital is one person sitting down to the grueling task of performing a piece of music in one take, with or without an audience. In fact, I prefer a video of a recording session over an audio-only recording of a live or studio performance. The atmosphere is more intense, you see performers dealing with the immediacy of what they are doing, the flaws, the reactions, the expressions of technicians, the jeans and t-shirts. It's exactly what it looks like.

There's a reason we all love bloopers and behind-the-scenes views of our favorite TV shows and films. We love to see things as they are being made. Authenticity is totally enriching and is everywhere, all around us. We just need to look for it, pay attention to it when we find it, and let it guide us into greater self-discovery.

May 31, 2013

SPOILERS!

That means I'll say something you'll hate me for if you don't know what happened. So go away until you've seen the film.

I credit myself with not taking seriously the only review I read about "Star Trek Into Darkness." I considered the reviewer's comment that "something was missing" as silly as it is subjective. Not that he might not have been correct, but it certainly wasn't going to prejudice me against the film before I saw it.

I write as someone who, as a preteen during Star Trek's first-run days in the 60s, didn't see the show, but who then grew up with Star Trek's syndicated resurgence in the 70s. The Star Trek films of the 80s were seismic events for people like me -- not someone who wore uniforms and attended conventions (I attended one) but someone for whom Star Trek represented so much about television in particular and life in general.

I read most of the Star Trek novels during the 90s. This is, for me, where the rubber met the road. Characters were fleshed out in ways they could not be in the program. Probably more than any other novel, one could accurately put a voice and a face to the characters in the book.

Eventually it was clear that, while Star Trek had more to say, the franchise could not continue with its current cast. Star Trek: The Next Generation was done, as was Deep Space Nine. Star Trek Voyager was mediocre, and Enterprise was a disaster. I was ready a dozen years ago for a new cast. I love the idea of blowing up concepts and redoing them. I had secretly cast Bruce Willis, Dennis Haysbert, Sean Connery, and Jack Nicholson as Kirk, Spock, Scotty, and McCoy, respectively, but even they were a bit too...er...mature for it.

You can imagine, then, that news of J.J. Abrams rewriting and recasting the original crew was a dream come true for me. The 2009 film was everything I hoped it would be. It literally blew up the Star Trek universe and rewrote all the rules. If I had any misgivings at all, there was too much nostalgia and -- forgive me, Leonard Nimoy -- too much of the original Mr. Spock. I hoped I had seen the last of him.

I hate all the hype that films get, now. It's just too much. It made me want to see the film just to put all the preview clips in context so the constant barrage of promos wouldn't drive me completely batty. I almost never see a film until long after the hype is over. I want to forget what people say about it. This can mean years in most cases, in which case I don't catch it in the cinema. Fine with me. Star Trek is the exception, and tonight was the night.

I had heard for months the possibility that Benedict Cumberbatch might reprise the role of Khan Noonien Singh. I tried to duck out of the way of those rumors and avoid as much knowledge as I could. I knew Cumberbatch was playing a character named Jonathan Harris. I willingly allowed myself to be swept along because, for me, I can get more from a film by being as blind as possible to the film's ultimate intent until it is revealed to me. I want the salesman to work for the deal, and that means he has to sell me on every detail. I don't want to know beforehand. 

[Below: Kahn before becoming genetically superior (anything for a job!).]

So, up until the last roughly 40 minutes of the film I trotted along behind Abrams, happily wondering what would ultimately befall Mr. Harris. And then the other shoe fell: Mr. Harris was, indeed, Khan Noonien Singh. From there, what was a wild ride became surreal to me. At times I couldn't tell if the plot was joking with me, giving me plot devices and whole lines that I could repeat like a costumed cult member at an umpteenth showing of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show." At other times it seemed the film was playing out the inevitable outcome of any dealing with the genetically-superior Singh. At still other moments I wondered if Abrams was being too reverent with the "ancient" plot inhabited by William Shatner and a Mexican actor trying to sell me Corinthian leather.

And, yes, there was Leonard Nimoy, again. Sigh. I love Leonard, but I really didn't want to see him in this.

In 1982 we didn't know whether Shatner and Nimoy were really into doing more sequels, so when Spock met his fate in the Enterperprise's warp core, I just wasn't sure if they would come back for more. After all, these actors were middle-aged men, not young whippersnappers. The 1979 Star Trek film wasn't all that good, so...well, we all know about that, by now.

When Kirk and Spock traded places in STID, I almost -- ALMOST -- rolled my eyes. Not that I didn't enjoy being taken for a ride (in more metaphorical ways than one) but there was no suspense to be had, here. A third installment with this cast and crew is already expected, and...well let's face it, you don't kill James Kirk more than once and get away with it.

Putting all of this aside, Star Trek Into Darkness had a very simple and necessary mission for me: Maturity. Jim was a loose cannon. His ascendency to the captaincy was much sooner in his career than in the original time line. He was heroic but not commanding; brilliant, but totally lacking in wisdom. STID aged the wine, so to speak. In the new time line Kirk encountered Kahn years earlier, and this is what gave him his sense of purpose, his vision of what Star Fleet is to him and should be to his world, his ability to lead from confidence and courage rather than bravado and desperation.

To me, Star Trek Into Darkness was a helluva great ride, took the reborn franchise where I think it should be, and got away with a deliciously sly trick at morphing a supposedly re-imagined version of an iconic Star Trek villain into a bizarre remake -- or even send-up -- of "The Wrath of Kahn." Great fun!

Last November I said I'd be writing more on my web site. Even Weebly's automatic monitor saw that I'm a total chicken about it and has been writing me asking why it can generate all sorts of nonsense as a stupid computer program but I as a sentient being can't do squat. It has a point.

It's not hard for me to write. It's hard for me to be public. And that's strange coming from a performer. But you performers out there will know what I mean. It's easy to get on stage and try to hide behind what you're doing. Of course, the product isn't worth much. I have to get ME out there. That's hard. 

So, I thought it might be good to be willing to take pictures of myself.

I have this nice office that faces west. The sun comes in late afternoon in a brutal way. Seemed just a nuisance. Then I realized I could filter it out and use it. So I put a piece of paper up in front of the sun and stared at the paper, then shot it with the same web cam set about eight feet across the room.

Now this is better. Crop it and I get my head shot. Well, it's not much but I'm a cheapskate and this worked. Now I just need to figure out how to exploit this light source, which unfortunately means I have to make the sun stand still. I know it's been done before.

In the meantime, Weebly is not making it easy for me to create this page. Or maybe it's too easy. I'm accustomed to writing my own HTML and creating whatever I want.

Anyway, here's the final product. At least I was reasonably well groomed.

Incidentally, I'll be featuring some videos. I'll talk on some, play on some. This is a project to learn some important things (important to me). Part of it will be learning how to create a decent video. Bear with me...


March 22, 2013

Seems like you can't take a step without running into "atheists" complaining about "religion." Religion is bad; religion is responsible for wars, for killing people, for intolerance; being religious is a sign of being "wired wrong" or some such theory.

The problem is one of acute narrow-mindedness. Not narrow-mindedness as a character flaw, but as a conscious decision how to view the subject. For so many, to be atheist is to nail down as immovable this thesis:

- God is supernatural, religion is orthodoxy, and to be religious is to be irrational.

That's it. From there, judgment is a simple matter of applying that to every attitude toward spiritual living. And, voilà,  The First Church of Atheism: "The one thing binding every FCA minister is his or her belief in science, reason, and reality." Any other view is unrealistic, irrational, and unscientific. At least, that's the implication.

The mistake made by many atheists is to identify religion with orthodoxy. This, to me, is fatal to an understanding of religion. Orthodoxy has a shelf life of about 30 seconds. Orthodoxy is not exclusive to a belief in the divine, however you consider it. For example, our two political parties are hopelessly orthodox. The science of climate change has its fossilized orthodoxy.

Orthodoxy is when bad things happen to good ideas. Perhaps 30 seconds is a bit unkind, but it doesn't take long before orthodoxy becomes group think. And this is how atheism views religion. A proper atheist (like my friend Mark) isn't even prepared to abandon the term "agnostic." He deals with the actual problem of Divine Being and is totally tolerant of my world view. Disagreement is never conflict between us.

Then there is the "orthodox atheist," who believes that the only view of God is as a supernatural being, that the oldest, fossilized form of institutionalized church is the essence of religion, and that adherents are mentally challenged. If you don't believe this, you aren't a true atheist. It's like global warming orthodoxy in which the science is totally settled. I have no problem with the science of global warming, but I have a big problem with the orthodoxy that is trying really hard to govern my life. Just like the orthodox atheist, who wants to keep me from speaking of God in the public square. Just like the orthodox Leftist, who wants me to think of myself as part of one or more demographics, or races, or whatever. Just like the orthodox Conservative, who wants the Constitution to expressly forbid what he finds abhorrent. And just like the orthodox Libertarian, for whom the approval of gay marriage is a litmus test.

And, yes, just like the orthodox Christian, who tells me that, unless I believe Jesus is God Himself, I am not Christian. Now, as a Christian Scientist, I am a friend to everyone. My understanding of Jesus is not orthodox, but it's hard to find an orthodox Christian who understands what my view really is. It's not that I have never explained it; it's the nature of the blinders that orthodoxy puts on one. It's like an orthodox atheist, who is a deer caught in the headlights of my view of God as divine but not supernatural. There is an immediate impasse when orthodoxy confronts its unlikeness. One who is orthodox tends to try to govern the behavior of others, because apostasy is inconceivable.

Orthodoxy isn't a bad thing in itself; it never did anything wrong to me. It is just a shared teaching. Tradition is how things have been done; orthodoxy is how things should be done. An orthodox baseball pitcher is one who adheres to certain teachings about how to pitch. Nothing wrong with it, as the teachings are usually based on time-tested fundamentals. The problem is when the pitcher's attitude becomes orthodox; when only adherence to these teachings are acceptable; when only those who are orthodox are acceptable pitchers.

This is how orthodoxy works: in politics, sports, religion, cooking, or playing the piano. It has a short shelf-life because the teachings change. The fundamentals on which they are built are examined, some found to be wrong, others in need of refinement, so few (if any) perfect. 

There is precious little time after which an established teaching comes up for review and is found wanting in one or more ways. The orthodox view of God, Jesus, man, and the world from centuries ago is held by some, but when push comes to shove, the individual treats these shared teachings more as a buffet than a set menu ("You can't leave the table until you eat your beans!"). The orthodox atheist, however, lumps all religious people as a collective into that old orthodoxy and finds it difficult, at best, to understand an individual's reasoned, rational practice of understanding the Divine.

***

Hello, friends. I've been waiting for a while to come back to this site and begin to make some sense of it. After hastily setting it up to publicize my Spring 2012 recital series, life carried me away on its usual tide of events that take us all away when we idly let it happen. But this place was bubbling on the back burner and I knew I should -- and would -- come back to make a place to set out ideas and discuss them with you.

There are many things I want to say. I'm not sure how to say them. But I will start now and, even if you don't see changes regularly, I will be back.

I hope to load some clips of my performances last March and April. I'm busy composing and arranging. I'll plan another recital or two in the coming months.

To me, it is a big adventure to commit to these things without waiting for the sudden compulsion of creative urgency. But I feel like I'll never finish my life's work if I don't do just that.

November 30, 2012

UPDATE: Well, that didn't go well, did it? (*cough* March 17, 2013)

Dear Hugh, 

I responded to your tweet about "The Birds" but wanted to address your error further. 

My Beloved Bride and I attended the Dallas showing of the film. It was fabulous. You said, "It is too dated, too corny, to scare anymore, but it does entertain and often simply amuses for the cliches and the over-acting." 

I figured you were trying to gloss over the event on your way to set up your piece about flocks of reporters on the attack. I have no trouble with that part. But you are seriously mistaken if you really believe what you said about the film. 

The only thing that is dated is the special effects technology. The rest was Alfred Hitchcock. It's a classic in the true sense of the word. It doesn't become dated. Like Steven Spielberg, Hitchcock is a master of the small but important, the disarming gesture, the unspoken line, a master of managing and directing a wide range of talent, including children. Allow me to describe a scene to set up my comments to you: 

Melanie rents a room from Annie, as a pretext for being in Bodega Bay to see Mitch. Annie's affair with Mitch is over, but she is still in love with him. As Melanie talks to Mitch on the phone, we hear a very ordinary and even circumspect conversation from Melanie's side. For much of the few brief minutes, the camera is on Annie, shot from her right side as she sits in an easy chair. Anne says nothing and at one point turns her head away from the camera, then back. Yet the look on her face, and its message, is as clear as if it were spoken. Annie has had this conversation with Mitch. She knows what will be its outcome, that eventually Melanie will be cast aside as she was, but still Annie yearns for Mitch. 

This is only one of many such scenes in the film. Far from overacting, Hitchcock can only be blamed for bordering on being too subtle at times. There is no musical score in the film, aside from Melanie playing part of a Debussy Arabesque. There are long minutes of near silence -- no dialogue, only background noise. The editing is crisp yet visceral. The pacing is natural and believable. The film offers no preposterous explanations of the events -- no explanations at all -- and fades to black as the car rounds the last bend on its escape from the horror. 

The film was totally stunning in its restored, big-screen showing. We felt as if we'd never seen it before. While I believe I know why you used the film in your article, I suggest you reconsider what seemed to me a casual dismissal of what is without question a great cinematic piece. 

Sincerely, 
Aaron Dyer 
Dallas, Texas