A reinvigorated fun police

@wwaycorrigan

[Listen to an audio version of this blog entry here.]

And just like that, it's all over — kind of. Within a couple of days of each other, both England (just England initially that was, not the other UK nations) and, more shockingly, a heretofore extremely cautious — officially, anyway — Republic of Ireland announced that they were ending most of the coronavirus pandemic restrictions.

Thou shalt not pass without a covid-19 vaccine pass: The social credit system in action — comply or be ostracised.

Learning to live again

Of course, I don't (currently) reside in either jurisdiction but I was somewhat optimistic on hearing the news. I'm not, however, expecting a domino effect around the globe in the coming weeks.

It does, nonetheless, give one hope that other nations will start to accept that we have to learn to live with covid-19 rather than stubbornly and damagingly maintain a suppression strategy.

As has been said oft-times before on this blog, we're not talking about an indiscriminate killer here, despite the efforts of many governments and media groups to portray Sars-Cov-2 as such. This covid monomania comes at a price — not just economically but in lives lost as well — and that price is something we're set to live with for some time to come.

I wrote previously (see https://wwcorrigan.blogspot.com/2021/09/rocking-in-fear-world.html) about the irrational fear that has been instilled in the masses over the last two years. 

Thus, for people to return to their pre-pandemic lives — as much as they want to, that is — it was always going to take more than just an address from our esteemed leaders simply telling us that it's all pretty much back to normal and "away with you".

What's more, all the various rules and recommendations aimed at saving lives have empowered what one could call a citizen's army of do-gooders and virtue-signallers. Well-intentioned they may be but, as is often the case in such affairs, they are potentially doing more harm than good — and most likely to themselves than to anyone else.

'"Recklessly" going against the doctrine puts us all in jeopardy. So, à la Novak Djokovic in authoritarian Australia, an example must be made of these apostates.'

You see, many of us at the receiving end of such unsolicited help to save ourselves and humanity at large can, to a certain extent, shrug it off. The preachers, on the other hand, are so worked up about it that it appears to consume them.  

In effect, they almost stop living because they become so concerned about avoiding death.

Pernicious pretenders

Raised as an Irish Catholic, I see something quite familiar here. The top brass who issue the orders largely ignore them in their private (and not-so-private) lives — vide the No. 10 Downing Street parties and Golfgate in Ireland — but the foot soldiers follow the commands with zeal.

In other words, the plebs are the ones who do the donkey work, pay the biggest price, yet they'll never see the green pastures, the promised land.

For these covid crusaders, the non-believers, the heathens, must equally — or, preferably, to a greater extent — suffer. In fact, it's those who question the gospel who are the problem. They must be brought into line.

"Recklessly" going against the doctrine puts us all in jeopardy. So, à la Novak Djokovic in authoritarian Australia, an example must be made of these apostates.

The Catholic Church — together with other such institutions — has done a great job at convincing folk through the ages that having fun in the here and now only leads one to the depths of hell. Not only is living fundamentally a struggle but you must also suffer whilst going through it. (I must say, these days I do move to a more ascetic beat — I'm certainly no party animal anyway — but I don't expect everyone to follow my lead. I'm happy for people to mix, mingle and live as they see fit as long as they don't inconvenience me too much.)

Where religion has lost its (often malignant) influence we have plenty of pernicious pretenders to step into the vacuum.

This coronavirus pandemic has given such fanatical forces a shot in the arm, literally and metaphorically. The fun police have been reinvigorated. The officers won't go away quietly.
_______________________________________________________________
Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

 

'God may be dead, but I want to live (for now)'

[Click here for an audio version of this blog entry.]
'Is it possible that he has nothing but cowardice and fear of death to make him live?' So Sonia Marmeládova asked herself about the one she cared for dearly, the murderer Rodion Raskolnikov, in Fyodor Dostoevsky's classic Crime and Punishment.

Houses of god have been off limits recently due to coronavirus restrictions.

Her great worry had been that the immense mental anguish he was suffering as a result of the crime he committed would lead him to suicide. In the end, it didn't.

In God we trust

The thing is, Rodian was an atheist. Had he believed in a god, an afterlife, and was convinced his actions had been for the good of humankind, perhaps he would have been able to end his existence in this world with less of an internal conflict.

It certainly got me thinking: Is it easier for believers to accept death — be that natural or otherwise — than non-believers?

From a suicide perspective, there have been some recent studies in this regard. While there are a lot of factors at play and it's difficult to get a true picture, there are indications that believers at least think about ending their own lives more so than atheists.

On one level, this makes sense. If you are of the conviction that this life is all we've got and all we'll ever have, there is no second chance, no redemption beyond the here and now, then why would you want to end it prematurely? 

No matter how bad your situation may be, as long as you're still breathing, there's a chance you can turn things around.

'It's difficult to comprehend how utterly miserable somebody must feel to decide to end it all. Experiencing ups and downs on the rollercoaster of life is inevitable. The difficult balancing act is trying not to overly focus on either extreme.'

On the other hand, I can only imagine, for those who truly believe in an afterlife or reincarnation or whatever, when things reach a terrible low, opting to roll the die (there's just one!), so to put it, might seem like a viable alternative than struggling on with the status quo. (Of course, against this, suicide is a sin in many religions. Yet so are lots of other things that followers let slide.)

Personally, as somebody indoctrinated into Catholicism at birth and who was an active, enthusiastic participant in it well into my mid-teens, I have often visualised my own death. 

This is not so much in a suicidal way. It is, somewhat narcissistic you could say, more about what my funeral would be like, especially if I were to die relatively young.

A lot of this is probably due to the send-offs we tend to give our dead in Ireland — or how we did pre-covid in any case. 

The deceased takes centre stage for a couple of days, so I'm, um, looking forward — paradoxically considering I don't really believe I'll be able to experience it — to my moment in the spotlight.

To die for

As for taking my own life, well I've never given it any serious thought. (Some may argue that a number of my life choices have been akin to toying with death, but I just call this living within my means.)

A corollary question is, do I fear death? In fairness, it's a concept rather difficult to envisage until one is actually confronted with it. 

What's more, considering all the unknowns surrounding it, most of us probably want to go as swiftly as possible when our number's up or when some illness like dementia takes over our minds. That way, we wouldn't be a burden on either the active living or ourselves.

Outside of that, for one who otherwise would have years to run, it's difficult to comprehend how utterly miserable he/she must feel to decide to end it all. Experiencing ups and downs on the rollercoaster of life is inevitable. The difficult balancing act is trying not to overly focus on either extreme.

Appreciate the mundane, the middle ground, the steady ship. The highs don't last. Reflecting on them too much very often just heralds in the lows. Next thing you know, death comes a-calling, by whatever means.
___________________________________________________________
Listen to Wrong Way's Colombia Cast podcast here.

Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan — The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".

Replacing religion's false comforts

It wasn't quite billed as a clash of titans, religion versus science, but with the Rocky walk-on music, it hinted that we might be in for something special.

In the end, what we got was a rather tame affair — shadow-boxing if you will. There were a few reasons for that. For one, the format certainly didn't help.

After opening statements, each man was given separate, alternate questions to answer. So it made it difficult for a robust, heated encounter to develop. A time limit on those answers would have done no harm either.

Clash of the heavyweights - well, not quite ...

Another reason why sparks weren't exactly flying is that the opposing sides weren't actually that much opposed to each other — at least that's how it appeared.

We're referring to Javeriana University Bogotá's "debate" titled 'Is God an illusion?' (¿Es Dios una ilusión?). 

The protagonists were Colombian Jesuit priest and author Father Gerardo Remolina and the British evolutionary biologist, author and atheist Professor Richard Dawkins.

We more or less knew what we were going to get from Dawkins.

It was Fr Remolina who surprised us somewhat. He basically came across as a man of reason and some science who just happened to have made a good living from something he doesn't entirely believe in. Or if he does fully believe in it, he's not very convincing.

He effectively reduced all the core tenets of Catholicism to symbols. 'Is God an illusion?' 'Well, what is God?' 'Eh, you tell us, Father.' 'Does heaven exist?' 'Well, what is heaven exactly?' OK, we're using a bit of poetic licence here but many of his answers to questions that are at the core of Christianity were abstract, to say the least.

This aspect to proceedings did not surprise us. He had a fair idea of the gallery he was playing to. (In one way, at the risk of being facetious, it was like the 'That would be an ecumenical matter' scene from the Irish sitcom Father Ted.)

It would have been much more entertaining to have a fundamentalist Christian from Bible Belt USA on stage. A creationist to the core. Their phoney arguments are much more engrossing. 

It's not for nothing that the influence of the traditional Christian churches is on the wane. These new guys on the block have a far sexier story to sell. And selling it they certainly are. There's money in that crucifix, you know. (They definitely would have felt at home with the Rocky entrance music anyway.)

Of course, religion's greatest strength in the face of rigorous scientific enquiry is the comfort it provides. It's a release from the trials and tribulations of this mortal world we toil in.

It tells us that there is something more than our present existence, something greater. It can give hope in the midst of despair. Who cares if the evidence suggests otherwise? Remember, 'happy are those who have not seen yet still believe.'

Stony-faced science, in contrast, can leave us cold. Take Dawkins' rebuttal to that comforting aspect of religion, quoting the Canadian cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker: 'If you're being chased by a tiger it may comfort you to believe it's a rabbit. But it's a tiger and it's going to eat you.' Doesn't tend to leave one all that chirpy, does it?

Yet, science isn't in the game of emotions. It's about truth-seeking. Fantasy and fiction, on the other hand, by definition operate without the inconveniences of having to prove themselves. In this regard, a fantastical story of everlasting life is generally going to appeal more than the theory that when we die, that's it.

Religions across the world, despite the many glaring holes and contradictions in their stories (it's not called 'having faith' for nothing), still trump atheism.

Thus, when asked if he felt we were coming near the end of religion, Dawkins said he can only hope that that's the case. The reality, however, suggests we're still some way off that juncture at this stage in our development as a species.

Some people might ask, 'So what? What's the big deal?' As we wrote about before, getting personal comfort, strength even, from belief in a higher power is one thing — what you do in private is your own business after all. Forming whole societies based on religious doctrine that doesn't stand to reason is quite another thing.

We're not going to take up space here disputing the argument that a religion-free world would be some sort of immoral, violent backwater.

Coming back to comfort, it's not like an atheist is devoid of it. Science can provide it. And it's arguably a more reassuring one than what religions offer because it comes more from fact.

Take an individual's very existence. It's a remarkable achievement in itself when we consider all the things that had to happen by chance to actually get us on this planet. Isn't that something worth celebrating and living for? Not to mention making the most of it for the short period we are here.

What's more, it could be argued that parents have a lesser need for religion than childless, singletons (even if, in reality, the opposite seems to be the case). Who needs a god or organised religion when you have your children and later, perhaps, grandchildren to get behind, your raison d'être?

So a world without religion doesn't have to be a gloomy, hopeless, meaningless place. 

Remember, it's only in recent years that the more established religions, from a Christian perspective in any case, 'jazzed up' their message to the masses. In the not-too-distant past, the stick was preferred to the carrot. 'It's God's will or it's eternal damnation.'

Atheism can be appealing, too, liberating even. Don't dismiss it right out of hand.
________________________________________
Facebook: Wrong Way Corrigan - The Blog & IQuiz "The Bogotá Pub Quiz".