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Author: James Brush

James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.

In the Beginning Nothing Exploded

December 2, 2005 • • 2 Comments

It’s a curious fact of the human species that we demand answers even when the evidence seems to say: Don’t bother. Our species has such faith in the idea of a higher purpose or power that throughout history every culture has looked up to the sun and stars and believed they saw some reason behind their mysterious paths through the heavens. Ancient cultures, and some modern ones, knew beyond doubt why they existed and could articulate it in their stories, but we are not so lucky. The universe unfolds regardless of our existence.

Our 21st century creation story (not a myth, mind you), our Big Bang, with its eternally expanding and cooling universe completely cuts us out of the deal. In the overall cosmic scheme of things, it appears that our existence is purposeless.

And yet, here we are with our deep need to see purpose in everything. We resist imagining that we’re nothing more than animals like the squirrels eating at the feeder in the backyard, and so we continue to probe the mysteries, searching for meaning and reason.

Billions of years from now our sun will expand, consuming our planet, and then die, leaving no trace that we were here with all our scientists and philosophers, artists and writers and, okay, bloggers. If their works and wisdom freeze out of existence along with all artifact and memory of our planet’s life, human and otherwise, one comes to a disturbing question: What was the point?

Granted, these are things that are not scheduled to occur for billions of years, and even one billion years is beyond the capability of most of us to truly comprehend, but when the entire universe becomes nothing more than an invisible wasteland of frozen rock and gas clouds, it’s hard to accept that anything will have mattered. Without some measure of immortality whether it be our children, our deeds, or our works, how can we convince ourselves that our lives are worth the atoms and molecules with which we are born?

I suppose that what prevents us from giving in to a purely short-term outlook is the fact that our creation story, which as with any good creation story, hints towards a destruction story, effectively pushes our collective demise into the recesses of a future so distant that we cannot perceive it as real.

We have plenty of time to continue that timeless debate between Huck and Jim about whether the stars were “made or just happened,” and I can’t help but wonder if that debate – that journey – is somehow the point.

Sucked into Lost

December 1, 2005 • • 2 Comments

A few weeks ago we started watching Lost (season one) on DVD. I was nervous at first because I try hard not to get sucked in to new TV shows. I only watch a few on a regular basis and as much as I might like a particular show (Seinfeld, King of the Hill, Queer as Folk), I’m always glad to see it go. I guess it’s like I get that time back rather than having to schedule a block of TV watching into my life. The best way to watch a show is after it’s been canceled as I learned when a friend loaned us Freaks and Geeks on DVD. The series was fantastic, and more importantly, safely cancelled.

So we started watching Lost, knowing that one day we’d catch up and ourselves become trapped on the island. Still, we recklessly blazed through season one (like Locke through the jungle), sometimes putting away three or four episodes in an evening (the way Charlie once put away heroin), and then the first part of season two that we had hoarded (like Sawyer stashing supplies in his tent) on our DVR. It was kind of like watching a very cool movie that didn’t end, and now I’m hooked (like Jack pushing that damn button that doesn’t do anything). As of last weekend, we’re caught up so now it’s no longer like a movie. It’s TV, albeit very good TV.

Later we’ll be watching last night’s episode on DVR, but we will have to wait a WHOLE WEEK before we can find out what happens. And what if next week is a rerun? It could be weeks before we find out what happens! We’ve been spoiled by DVD and a backlog of DVR. For all our new technology, I still can’t escape watching regular TV programs. Oh well. I guess there are worse fates (okay last one – like Hurley winning a cursed lottery) than this.

Pepys’ Diary

December 1, 2005 • • 1 Comment

I’ve recently finished “reading” a second audiobook as a distraction from rush hour traffic. The tape-tome loaned to me by my parents was Pepys’ Diary, by Samuel Pepys (read by Kenneth Branagh).

For the most part, Pepys briskly chronicles the ordinary day-to-day events of his life as a Royal Navy administrator in seventeenth century London, and the events are as ordinary as one might expect:

Up and I to the office by water, then home to my wife for dinner, back to the office until dark, and then home and so to bed.

Okay, I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea. Listening to this, my mind drifted in and out as his ordinary experiences intermingled with mine, the exception being his description of The Great Fire of London (1666), which commands the listener’s undivided attention as Pepys laments the destruction and describes his efforts to save his home and property.

Apart from the fire and his business dealings, much of the drama comes from the fact that Pepys was a man with an eye for the ladies. Amusingly, he tends to veer off into a strange Spanglish (with perhaps a bit of French thrown in) whenever he describes his extramarital affairs. I don’t know if this is an unwillingness to openly acknowledge what he was doing, since he seemed to feel somewhat guilty about it (at times) or simply a code to prevent his wife from reading it if she should find his diary. Perhaps both.

He discontinued his diary in mid-1669 out of concern for his failing eyesight, but it seems a great source of information for anyone interested in English life during this period. I’m not sure I would have picked this up and read it in book form, but it made for fascinating listening and would probably be a good read (in the traditional sense) as well.

Overall, an interesting window into life in seventeenth century London juxtaposed by life in twenty-first century Texas crawling slowly along outside my car windows. And so I home, and to bed.

Checking Out the Checkout

November 30, 2005 • • Leave a comment

firedoglake has this, which made me think about checking out at the grocery store. It’s gotten very depressing these days.

Standing around waiting for my turn, I find myself glancing at the magazines available. I see things about space aliens, celebrities I’ve never heard of falling in and out of love and marriage, ways to look better this winter, recipes for weight loss and diabetes management, the low-down on upcoming plot lines for soap operas, and suggestions for teens who want to get a great date for the prom (start wooing that high school hunk now!)

Okay, what should I expect, right? I’m in a supermarket. Still, one would think that there would be something – anything – examining the fact that our president lied to bring us into a war, that the party that controls our government is plagued by corruption and influence peddling, that we are facing an imminent oil crisis, that our lands are being raped for profit as never before, that the administration is full of incompetents and traitors, that anyone who expresses honest (and, yes it’s patriotic!) dissent is labeled a supporter of terrorists, or that our congress would like nothing more than to take away what little we do for our poorest citizens.

Just one article? I’m not even asking for a cover feature.

I understand the market (not the supermarket) decides what goes in the magazines that fill the checkout racks. They’re filled with what people want, and it seems that what we want is nothing more than to pretend that this ain’t happening, to utterly divorce ourselves from reality and live in a fantasy land of soap operas and chocolate pie.

Kind of like Dubya.

Finally Feels Like November

November 29, 2005 • • Leave a comment

One of the things I love about Austin is the weather between late November and the end of the year. The torture of October Allergies (for me) is over, making it a pleasure to be outdoors again during the best time of year for it, and the first real cold fronts begin to arrive like the one that came in yesterday and caused me to break out my coat. I probably didn’t need it, but I have to justify the space it takes up in my closet on the few days of the year on which I can do so.

Even rush traffic isn’t so bad when the city sparkles in the crisp air like it did last night and again this morning. It’s the time of year when I remember I have a telescope (which will be on the agenda for this evening) and find that it’s actually worth setting up in the yard as the stars just seem to jump out of the sky.

It’s hard to believe that only two weeks ago, I was standing in my front yard, amid fallen leaves staring at the pumpkins on the porch while wearing shorts and sandals wondering if it would ever cool off. Now that it has, I’ll be sure to enjoy it. Summer is afterall only a little over a month away.

Weekend Hound Report: Strategies for Walking

November 28, 2005 • • 3 Comments

With a large tip of the cyber hat to Ironicus Maximus whose Friday Hound Blogging is one of my favorite traditions, and in the interests of being organized, I now commence with a regular feature: The Weekend Hound (or Cat or Hounds and Cat) Report, wherein the adventures of my furry friends will be related. If it seems odd to start a weekend feature on a Monday, then you’re probably more organized than me.

Phoebe and Daphne took their first walk together yesterday. Phoebe loves the idea of walks, but when the paw hits the pavement it really freaks her out (as described here). Daphne, on the other hand, is terrified and runs away when anything even resembling a leash begins to jingle. Sometimes, however, she is tricked by the large bipedal apes with whom she lives and as happened yesterday found herself out in public. My wife took Phoebe, I took Daphne, and we strolled down the street with each hound demonstrating her own approach to facing a dangerous world:

Daphne, who walks quickly knowing that it will be over soon, bases her strategy on the fact that if she walks fast They will not be able to get her.

Phoebe believes They can only see movement and so walks painfully slowly in the hopes that she will be mistaken for a large black and white rock.

When together, Phoebe likes to stay close to Daphne and so will actually pick up the pace. Last night’s walk, took only half the time that a normal walk with Phoebe alone takes, though we covered the same distance. I have resigned myself to the fact that Daphne will never like walks, but I think Phoebe will really enjoy them as she comes out of her shell as evidenced by the fact that she always wants to go.

[saveagrey]

A Dying Language

November 27, 2005 • • 3 Comments

Yesterday’s Austin American-Statesman ran this story:

NuSrvc2OffrGr8Litr8trOnYrFon
Loose translation: Get classic literature in text-message form

Ouch. Dot Mobile is selling its service as a new way for students to cheat avoid reading prepare for tests without having to dirty their fingers with Cliffs Notes. The service will initially provide plot summaries and important quotes from the likes of Shakespeare, Austen, and Golding without all the extra words, sentences and subtlety that only confuse students anyway.

Eventually Dot Mobile intends to offer the complete works of Shakespeare and Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. CNN also had a story on this including an excerpt from Milton’s Paradise Lost which begins with, “devl kikd outa hevn coz jelus of jesus&strts war.” The various authors can be heard spinning in their graves.

Initially, I was saddened because I knew that the effect of this would not just be another way for students of literature to avoid reading it, but would also continue the ongoing destruction of the English language, but then in the section of the article offering interpretations, I saw and reflected on the advice Nick remembers receiving from his father in the opening of The Great Gatsby:

WenevaUFeelLykDissinNe1,
jstMembaDatAlDaPpinDaWrldHvntHdDaVantgsUvAd

I read this several times over and remembered that hez rite cuz itz lyk hez sain we all gotta b open n shit cuz who r we 2 judge.

River Out of Eden

November 26, 2005 • • Leave a comment

A few weeks ago, catching up on my Discover magazines, I read an interesting article about a Sir Richard Dawkins, described in the magazine as “Darwin’s Rottweiler.” Among other things, the article praised Dawkins’ gift for writing for the nonscientist as well as his adamant stance concerning the truth of evolution.

Hmmm, I thought, I’d sure like to read something by Dawkins. When I got home that night, my bookshelf served up one of its many gifts: River Out of Eden: A Darwinian View of Life by Richard Dawkins. There’s nothing like having a bunch of books I’ve never read, but I digress.

True to Discover‘s word, Dawkins’ writing is erudite and imaginative. The book is short (161 pages) and accomplishes its lofty goal of explaining the workings of evolution and natural selection at the genetic level. This being a popular science book, Dawkins relies on arm-chair logic to make many of his points, and he does so with wit, all the while conveying a sense of wonder at the natural world, whether he is describing the behavior of bees or the evolutionary functions of the eye.

I’ve read and heard ID proponents try to argue that the eye is too complex a thing not to have been designed by an intelligence, but Dawkins counters nicely:

Thus the creationist’s question-“What is the use of half an eye?” – is a lightweight question, a doodle to answer. Half an eye is just 1 percent better than 49 percent of an eye, which is already better than 48 percent, and the difference is significant.

From there he details a variety of eye-types in the fish, insect, and mammal worlds, all of which represent “eyes” that we might consider half an eye or less, from eyes that do nothing more than track movement or show a difference between light and dark to eyes as complex as birds’ eyes. Ultimately, he argues that an eye (or any other aspect of a creature’s biology) will be only just good enough for the purpose it is intended to serve.

Throughout the book, Dawkins defends the truth of evolution with a seeming twinkle in his eye and smile on his face. Dawkins clearly relishes sharing his love of the natural world as much as he enjoys shooting down anti-scientific positions making this a surprisingly fun book (unless, I suppose, you’re dead-set against evolution). The most memorable aspect of the book, though, is his discussion of ancestry, a poignant reminder that we are all related, all cousins.

River Out of Eden is an engaging book that provides a wonderfully lucid counter to the unscientific claims of the (embarrassingly antiscientific) Intelligent Design movement. It’s also a good book just to remind us of the many wonders of the natural world.