The Accipiter

A Break

2005-08-08T19:58:00.000-06:00

Hi.

I have a lot to say but neither the time nor the patience to say it right now.

Therefore, I'm taking a break for awhile.

Please check back periodically. I might get inspired.

Thanks a lot, guys.

Live Strong

2005-07-24T11:00:00.000-06:00

Hard work, discipline, the will to survive. The will to win.

I don't care how cliche it is. It's true. Lance Armstrong is a hero. And I'm happy to count him as one of mine.

It was thrilling to watch the Tour again this year. Congratulations to Lance on victory number 7.

Lance Armstrong embodies the best of professional athletics, there is no doubt. But his example as a human being--whether chasing yellow or not--is what counts.

Live Strong.

And while you're at it, give some money to Lance's foundation, livestrong.org.

Five Shots to the Head as Reminder

2005-07-24T10:47:00.000-06:00

By now everyone knows that the Brits chased down and killed a 27-year-old Brazilian man--Jean Charles de Menezes--who emerged from the same apartment building a suspect in the second, July 21, bombings, lives. They followed him to a tube stop where they killed him, according to major media outlets, by forcing him to the floor and shooting him 5 times in head.

Yesterday, London police remorsefully admitted this man had nothing to do with the bombings.

Let this be a reminder that innocents are part of the War on Terror. While mistakes are inevitable--even horrible ones with extraordinary American Fourth Amendment implications--I hope that all who support the efforts of those opposing global terrorism support them carefully. With the courage to be thoughtfully critical, outspoken, and smart about this war and its effects, now and in the future.

Go to Alaska

2005-07-20T15:29:00.000-06:00

I'm back from Alaska.

Go there if you haven't yet.

Thoughts for today:

1. They call Alaska America's Last Frontier. It's appropriate. In Anchorage, moose and black bear regularly walk through backyards and parks. In Homer and Seward on the Kenai Peninsula, the rough-and-ramshackle of small-town, chipped-house-paint, dirty-kids, edge-of-the-world life mixes with ultra-modern seaports and commerical fisheries, high-end coffee, art, and gift shops, tourists agogged by the scenery, and cash flowing in the millions for chances to see mile-wide, 900-foot-high glaciers calve, Northern Pacific humpback whales breach, or grizzlies ravage red salmon. Not to mention the fishing, hunting, and generally enthusiastic fish-and-ice-cream consumption. It was a great trip.

The Kenai is like the best of Colorado and Montana (towering mountains, extraordinarily steep slopes, glaciers) plus the ocean, plus a rain forest. Hard to beat. At least in the summer.

I shot 630 hi-res digital photos with my new Nikon D70 (which I've been craving and patiently eyeing for 3 years). My wife and daughter and our extended family folk enjoyed ourselves greatly. I have no regrets, although hooking but not catching 5 gigantic end-run sockeye salmon in the Kenai River was excruciating. One took 100 yards of line, all the way to the knot on the spool. I was hopelessly out-gunned as it used the current and at least 5 super-acrobatic flips to finally break free. What a blast. Alaska. It's like another country.

2. Rove. We all know he's a political genius. That's why I don't think he was dumb enough to explicitly leak Ploom's name. However, I have a sneaking suspicion he may have pushed his gamesmanship too far this time. Time will tell. I hope, for the sake of Rove and the White House, but mostly for the sake of this country, that neither Rove nor anyone else in the Administration threatened the life of a deep-cover CIA agent or her cohorts. That--if it were proven, and above all else Rove has done--would seal his fate.

3. Roberts. A conservative president picked a conservative. OK. He's hardly the worst candidate and might be the best the Left could have hoped for in these circumstances. The idea that Bush would replace O'Connor with an O'Connor-alike was silly from the get-go. In fact, I'm fine with the choice.

Roberts is clearly all the things Dems and Repubs have been saying about him: brilliant, sincere, honest, etc. He's a great legal mind. He did file an opinion in which he suggested the Endangered Species Act may in part be unconstitutional. While I hope that this isn't true, and believe the Act has played a pivotal role in what I consider this nation's responsibility for real conservation of species threatened by human activity, he might in the end be right. The Commerce Clause and its edict that Congress can only act under it if "a link to interstate commerce" exists simply might not be broad enough to embrace protection of endangered species on private land in some instances. But single decisions and single fact patterns should not matter during the confirmation process. Does Roberts respect the law, the Constitution? Yes. Is he imminently capable? Yes. The question, perhaps, is whether he views the Constitution as "a living Constitution," or a "1920s Constitution," or a "Framers' Constituion". Perhaps a blend of the three. Perhaps not. We'll find out. No matter what, the fact that he comes from the law firm for which I will begin working in the fall is pretty cool.

4. The federal law clerkship I just completed after three years was the highlight of my work life so far. My experience there, especially the inspiration I received from The Judge and my fellow clerks--all good friends, will guide my career. Fairness, earnestness, loyalty, intellectual honesty, integrity, smarts. Applying the facts to the law. Writing well. Living and working articulately. Knowing the value of the work and living up to it every day.

Above all, I'll miss the people. We laughed so much. We had such fantastic conversations. Thanks to you guys. You know who you are.

North and West

2005-07-08T18:58:00.000-06:00

I'm heading to Alaska in a few hours to spend some much-anticipated time with my close extended family, including my brother-in-law who lives in Afghanistan and is making a rare U.S. visit.

I'll be gone 10 days. I hope my faithful readers will keep checking. I'll fill you in when I return.

Britain, Stand Fast

2005-07-07T14:59:00.000-06:00

My thoughts are with Londoners today as they suffer another cowardly blow at the hands of terrorists. I've been on the top of a double-decker bus in London and am horrified by the twisted seats and red sardine-can metal I see on the news today. My thoughts are also with Tony Blair, who has been wading through massive public disapproval of his efforts to support the War on Terror and the United States.

A few other thoughts:

1. I completely disapprove of the manner in which the Bush Administration got us into Iraq. Unlike many of my friends, however, I believe withdrawal from the cause, despite losses of American and friendly Iraqi life, is premature. Much has been accomplished in Iraq. It's a country that was flattened, prone to the desert floor, under Saddam. Now, it is on its knees, attempting to find its feet. We cannot leave until the Iraqis can stand on their own. Whether we like it or not.

2. As evidenced by the recent loss of Navy Seals on the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, the war there is not over. We cannot forget this. Well-organized terrorists remain active. And Afghanistan struggles while warlords and scheming power-brokers play for control. We're still needed there. Military, NGOs, others.

3. I have a little dream: for all of the United States' shifting allegiances in the region during the Cold War, and the profilgation of political capital and weapons caches, perhaps the United States is responsible for putting things straight. This is tempered by another dream: that those citizens of Iraq and Afghanistan start realizing that while freedom takes a lot of work, it is worth every bead of sweat and every drop of blood. The U.S. and its allies--Britain foremost--can't give them freedom. They have to take it and own it for themselves.

4. I hope Britain stays on course despite the attacks. This War on Terror is a horrible thing: the enemy is elusive, living in shadows, evidenced only through street carnage, victims and victims' families, convoluted webs of cryptic intelligence, and internet postings. But to give up fighting is to give in. I'm convinced of it. As much as I am troubled by some of what George W. Bush has said and done since taking office, I respect his tenacity and hope that his boldness, courage, and vision bear fruit.

5. Can the War on Terror be won? I used to plague myself with this question. My answer was always, "No. As long as there are those willing to die for their beliefs and kill innocents to further them." Now, my answer is this: As long as those committed to freedom and democracy in this world are vigilant against Terror and are unified in their opposition to it on all fronts, the costs of doing business as a terrorist will begin to outweigh the benefits. Can it be won? Yes. If "winning" is measured by fewer and fewer attacks, and fewer and fewer young people joining the cause.

6. That brings me to my major concern. As much as we protect ourselves, terrorists will always find a seam in our armor. Once we plug one hole in the dike, another will form. Therefore, the only way to defeat Terror is to dry up its source. That means making terrorism--whether its foundation is radical Islam sold to the impoverished and dispossessed or something else--unattractive. And making peaceful and (financially and spiritually) lucrative options more available. That is the key. I'm concerned that not enough is being done on that front.

My hopes and prayers to all those working to combat the insanity of terrorism in this world.

35 New Frogs

2005-07-01T16:03:00.000-06:00

I read a story the other day about a team of scientists who discovered and identified 35 species of Sri Lankan frog that were, before then, foreign to science. Now I don't know whether you like frogs or have been to Sri Lanka (I do and I haven't), but you should care about this. Why?

Because discovery continues.

We tend, here at our computer terminals (and they are terminals as well as they are rabbit holes and portals to dimensions not our own: sometimes they blind us), to think about this life. This work. This chair. Those co-workers, that sidewalk and lampost down below. That baseball stadium over there. Those clouds meandering. And we're in these thoughts, this zone of reality.

But there's so much more. Even so much more than we can envision for ourselves on future vacations. So much more than we see, hear, and feel when watching BBC news on cable, the only mainstream broadcast that dares spend significant time in Darfur and other lonely, hostile places where Americans won't tread. So much more, even, than we might be exposed to in National Geographic or on the Discovery Channel.

I care about the stuff beyond what I know and what I think I know because it literally gives me pause. As colorful, boundless, thriving, and joyous life is, we only have a small piece of it to ourselves. I hope I am humbled by my small piece of life, its value. My life. My family's. My friends'. But I know I'm humbled by the pieces that aren't mine, that I have nothing to do with, that exist without my knowing or doing anything.

It's one thing to discover and identify a new virus or bacterium or even a forest antelope species in Southeast Asia that the locals talk about but no Westerner has seen. But to discover 35 species of terrestrial vertebrate reptiles living in the jungles of a small island nation in 2005? Hard to comprehend. While we play politics with space probes and hope they get funded or don't crash. We scan the furthest horizons of our galaxy and thousands of others for planets belied by wobbles and for intelligent sounds. We sink to ocean trenches in metal bubbles designed to withstand intolerable atmospheric pressures looking for that which feeds near thermal vents.

Yet, here, in a jungle limited by oceans on all sides, clearcutting for rubber and tea plantations within, and thousands of people living hand-to-mouth off the land, we find new frogs. In 2005.

We have come so far only to find that we have so far to go.

Life begets life. Yet, for rubber or tea or simple lack of either conscience or consciousness, humans hands could divest Sri Lanka of all 35 of its new frog species. That is humbling.

Capture the Flag

2005-06-23T09:21:00.000-06:00

By way of the Republican Right's own supposed poster boy Justice Scalia and his learned friends at the United States Supreme Court, a friendly reminder to the 286 members of the United States House of Representatives who--wearing their hearts on their sleeves and their heads in a hole--yesterday approved a constitutional amendment that would give Congress the power to ban desecration of the American flag:

If there is a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the Government may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable. Punishing desecration of the flag dilutes the very freedom that makes this emblem so revered, and worth revering.

U.S. v. Eichman, 496 U.S. 310, 319 (1990).

The way to preserve the flag's special role is not to punish those who feel differently about these matters. It is to persuade them that they are wrong. To courageous, self-reliant men, with confidence in the power of free and fearless reasoning applied through the processes of popular government, no danger flowing from speech can be deemed clear and present, unless the incidence of the evil apprehended is so imminent that it may befall before there is opportunity for full discussion. If there be time to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.
And, precisely because it is our flag that is involved, one's response to the flag burner may exploit the uniquely persuasive power of the flag itself. We can imagine no more appropriate response to burning a flag than waving one's own, no better way to counter a flag burner's message than by saluting the flag that burns, no surer means of preserving the dignity even of the flag that burned than by--as one witness here did--according its remains a respectful burial. We do not consecrate the flag by punishing its desecration, for in doing so we dilute the freedom that this cherished emblem represents.

Texas v. Johnson, 491 U.S. 397, 419 (1989).

It never ceases to amaze me how easily the loftiest and most important constitutional principles in this country are sacrificied by the very people we elect to uphold them for the greater good.

Sadly, as George Will once said, "American politics as you know . . . is very often a matter of capture the flag."

But I'm So Hungry for Whale!

2005-06-21T15:57:00.000-06:00

The vast majority of whales and other cetaceans on this planet are either threatened or endangered.

So I don't know about you, but the idea of hunting whales for food in 2005 strikes me as . . . a little old-fashioned. And the idea of hunting whales for food with explosives and the "electric lance" strikes me as . . . a little barbaric. But the idea of hunting 935 minke whales for food while calling it an annual "research cull" strikes me as . . . just plain idiotic.

But that's what the Japanese want to do. This year they plan to slaughter 440 minke whales so they can "conduct research" on whaling. Why? So a bunch of Japanese people can eat whale meat properly, as a delicacy, thinly sliced, in expensive restaurants without chairs.

Somehow, Japan managed again this year to convince the International Whaling Commission that in order to know more about minke whales it must exterminate them. Unlike the Norwegians, who are the only folks in open defiance of the world-wide whaling ban upheld today by IWC members, the Japanese say they're not defying the ban; they're conducting specialized scientific experiments.

I went over to the International Cetacean Research website, run by--guess who--the Japanese. Not surprisingly, I learned:

"It is important to remember that capture and testing is only conducted in a strictly limited way on the numerically abundant, non-endangered whale species. Sampling in the Antarctic has included a take of up to 440 Minke whales in one year. The [International Whaling Commission] estimates that 2,000 Minke whales per year could be taken for 100 years without posing a threat to the stock. Under the IWC's 'no waste' rules the by-products of the research program, including whale meat, are required 'so far as practicable to be processed'. It is this aspect of the program which is often inaccurately sensationalised as 'illegal commercial whaling'."

O.K. Let's assume that the Japanese want to study whales. Cool. Bully for them. Let's also assume that they could do this (as every other Western country interested in research on wild animals, including whales, does) with minimal--if any at all--killing of the animals they study. Why don't they? Because the Japanese market value of minke whale meat is so high.

But, c'mon, you say. You're being too hard on our friends perched precariously on the Pacific Rim. If it weren't for IWC's helpful "no-waste" exception that now drives commercial hunting on boats occupied by hungry scientists, we wouldn't know so much about minke whales. Maybe so.

But if the Japanese didn't know how good Minke whales tasted, they probably wouldn't want to know so much about our 30-foot-long finned friends.

Now I'm no vegetarian and I don't play one on TV (although I did play one in real life for about 6 years, then I got really hungry). But I'm thinking: Yo. Japan. Give it up. Traditions are one thing. Being arrogant dolts who flaunt environmental policies even the Bush Administration backs is another all together.

A Great Editorial On "The Best Evidence Available"

2005-06-21T14:29:00.000-06:00

Here's an editorial on why creationism should not be taught in high-school biology class, and why evolution by natural selection is worth your attention. I like it so much I'm posting the entire thing:

"Intelligent Design," the religious alternative to Darwinism, ought to be taught in schools - Sunday schools and high school social studies or history classes. But in biology classes? No way.
In about 20 states - most notably, right now, before the Kansas Board of Education - conservative Christians are trying to demand "equal time" for ID and evolution as the explanation for how life developed on earth.

But ID isn't science. Its concepts can't be independently verified. In essence, ID holds that living organisms are so complex that they couldn't be the product of blind natural forces, but had to be the work of a Designer - or, at least, a designer.

The scientific problem is this: There is no way to locate actual evidence of a designer, be it small-d or big-D. Proponents of ID, including some sophisticated scientists, point to holes in Darwinian explanations for the development of life and say that only "intelligent design" can fill the gap. But that's not proof of design.

Kansas' conservative-dominated Board of Education seems to be on the verge of changing its state standards for science education by removing evolution as the preferred concept for students to learn in biology and creating a toss-up with ID.

In 2001, when Congress considered President Bush's No Child Left Behind Act, Sen. Rick Santorum (R-Pa.) tried to mandate that challenges to Darwinism be included in school curricula. He got a favorable vote in the Senate, but the provision didn't make it into the final law.
Charles Darwin transformed science in 1859 and set off a political and philosophical storm that hasn't stopped by arguing in "The Origin of Species" that life forms have evolved by a process of random genetic mutations and the added (and cruel) process of "natural selection" whereby only the fittest mutants survived and reproduced.

It's essentially a God-less theory, and religious conservatives have been at war with it ever since, most famously in the 1925 Scopes "monkey" trial in Tennessee that pitted lawyers Clarence Darrow and William Jennings Bryan against each other.

Technically, the conservative side won the court battle - biology teacher John Scopes was fined $100 for teaching evolution - but Darwin triumphed almost everywhere else. The U.S. Supreme Court has twice struck down laws requiring the teaching of biblical creationism as breaching the barrier between church and state.

It's remarkable that, despite the preference for evolution in school curricula and overwhelming scientific evidence, polls consistently show that at least a plurality of adults - sometimes a majority - still hold the creationist belief that God created humans within the past 10,000 years.

In a 2004 CBS poll, only 27 percent supported the belief - one that has been endorsed by the Roman Catholic Church - that humans evolved from lesser species, but that God guided the process. And only 13 percent believe in pure Darwinism - that humans evolved without divine intervention.

Sixty-five percent of those polled said that both creationism and evolution should be taught in schools. Fully 37 percent favored teaching creationism instead of evolution.
Scientific critics of ID gibe that it's "creationism in a cheap tuxedo" or "creationism with God remaining anonymous," but that's not true.

Leading ID theorists - they are organized through the Seattle-based Center for Science and Culture at the Discovery Institute - have long since abandoned "young earth" biblical literalism, accepting scientific evidence that the earth is billions of years old.

In fact, even though it receives much of its funding from religious conservatives, ID doesn't totally dismiss evolution or claim that the "intelligence" behind the universe is divine.

This constitutes such a retreat from old-line creationism and some commentators have said that the American scientific community should pocket the victory and, instead of turning their backs on ID as beneath debate, engage its advocates and prove them wrong.

In fact, that's happened to some extent -among other places, in a printed 2002 debate in "Natural History" magazine in which establishment scientists pretty well refuted the contentions of leading ID scientists Michael Behe, a Lehigh University biochemist, and William Dembski, a mathematician and theologian at Baylor University, that the complexity of cells and organisms implied "design" and a "designer."

As Brown University biology professor Kenneth Miller wrote, "if Behe wishes to suggest that the intricacies of nature, life and the universe reveal a world of meaning and purpose consistent with a divine intelligence, his point is philosophical, not scientific. It is a philosophical view, incidentally, that I share. However, to support that view, one should not find it necessary to pretend that we know less than we really do about the evolution of living systems."

A valuable primer on the proofs of Darwinism was published by National Geographic magazine in November 2004 ("Was Darwin Wrong? No."), arguing that evolutionary theory is sustained by numerous lines of inquiry from fossil studies through the microbiology of infectious diseases.
The ability of various microbes - bacteria like staphylococcus and viruses like HIV -to quickly develop immunity to the medicines invented to combat them is evolution in real-time, according to writer David Quammen.

Personally, I think that high school students ought to be taught about disputes between religion and science, but in a history class that covers the suppression of Galileo and the battles over Darwin.

They also ought to be taught that no one knows for sure what caused life to originate on earth or what caused the creation of the universe. I favor the religious view of this, but there's a secular view that students should know about, too.

But as to the "how" of biology - the science - schools should teach the best evidence available, which is evolutionary theory. That's especially true when a majority of Americans still think the world is only 10,000 years old.
--Mort Kondracke

I wish I would have written this.

Note of interest: Mort Kondracke is a political conservative who writes for RealClearPolitics and is Executive Editor of Roll Call on Fox.

And he's reasonable.

My Stance on Abortion

2005-06-20T15:31:00.000-06:00

Abortion.

There are few topics that generate so much controversy. And for good reason. While abortion doesn’t always "stop a beating heart" as the conservative billboards in West Michigan will tell you, it certainly–uncontroversially–discontinues life: either the life of a human embryo or a fetal human being. So it must be dealt with carefully.

However, as is my nature, I begin boldly. I believe that abortion is wrong and should be prohibited with the following three exceptions: 1) when the mother is raped; 2) when the mother is the victim of incest; and 3) when the life of the mother will be lost for saving the child.

My approach is a simple one. In order to disarm those who would argue against outlawing abortion by adopting the contention that religion or faith in God as a basis for preserving human life is somehow less relevant than science or social justice of some other kind in preserving the right to have an abortion, I will argue against abortion from the perspective of an atheist. While I’m not one, I’m willing to bet this contraption will make my arguments more appealing to those who would otherwise disagree with me.

I start by defining the issue. It is whether the state should allow a doctor to enter a woman’s (or, in the saddest cases, a girl’s) uterus, and deprive a human life form of life separate from that of its mother’s. So many people fail to call a spade a spade, making abortion something else entirely. But it’s not.

(Now, if you’re one of the readers who is going to take me to task, you had probably begun formulating your argument before now. If you hadn’t yet, now you will.)

So if that’s what abortion is, what is it not?

Abortion is not about a woman’s right to choose what to do with her own body.

Why? Because anyone who has studied human embryology at an elementary level knows that the tiny mass of cells generated by fertilization is a living organism separate from its mother. While this organism is indeed dependant on its mother’s physiology, it is entirely human, and entirely not its mother.

As soon as pronuclei of a 23-chromosome sperm and 23-chromosome oocyte (egg) fuse, a zygote with 46 chromosomes exists. This organism is genetically unique from its mother and father. About 30 hours after fertilization, the zygote divides by mitosis, and each new cell (called a blastomere; first 2, then 4, then 8, etc.) also has 46 chromosomes. While dividing, this mass of cells moves down the fallopian tube towards the uterus where it will implant, having become a blastocyst. Implantation occurs approximately 5-6 days after fertilization. And so it goes.

But, you say, the woman sheltering, feeding, and otherwise maintaining the life of this mass of cells (or in later stages, a fetus with head, hands, and heart) affects and is affected by this little creature. Surely, she should have control over whether those cells exist. It should be her prerogative to either continue or terminate the pregnancy. It’s up to her, based on her comfort level.

I used to believe this. Then I realized the illogic of the argument. After 40 weeks of incubation in her mother, a baby is born. At that moment, the mother–or another adult willing to adopt or otherwise care for the child–is absolutely responsible for this child’s existence. The child is utterly unable to care for itself. The care giver–usually the mother–is no less affected by this child. She or he shelters, feeds, and maintains its life until it the child is able to care for itself.

Umbilical cord aside, the relationship remains the same. While the child is not physically connected to the mother or the care giver, she might as well be. Having watched my wife with our baby, I can attest to this beautiful encumbrance of motherhood with all its trappings, good and bad. Is it convenient? No. But many worthwhile things in life are not convenient.

As soon as baby and mom are physically disconnected no one would argue that a mother should have control over whether the child exists or not. But when the child and mother share a blood supply and a uterine lining, the mother is allowed such powers?

If it is about a woman controlling her own body, taking back her uterus, her blood, her ability to be pregnancy-free, then why shouldn’t society allow a woman to dump her newborn in a trash can? By doing so, she can control her own daily existence without the burden of a child. Take back her life at the expense of the child’s life. Take back her body, whose existence has been committed to a helpless human being for 9, 10, 11, 23, 46, 50, 100 months. I don’t see the difference.

Of course, a number of you do see the difference. No one wants to be responsible for giving birth to an unwanted child. There are so many unwanted children already. And the emotional toll this would take on the mother is potentially crushing. And the morning sickness. And, will I be a good parent?

So why not terminate the pregnancy when this . . . thing . . . is just a few cells? What are a few cells anyway? Each of us loses thousands upon thousands of skin cells per week. Cells are regularly grown in science class or in a lab and thrown out. We throw away bread with mold on it. We kill insects and vermin and beef cattle, millions upon millions of living cells laid to waste. And most of us think nothing of it.

But none of those combinations of cells–as we kill them–is in the process of becoming a human being. That’s the difference. And if we’re willing to destroy humans when they’re just a few cells, why shouldn’t we be just as willing to kill unwanted children who overcrowd orphanages, smelly, unshaven, irrational adults who inhabit mental hospitals, or our once-beloved elders who can no longer feed themselves or go to the bathroom?

The difference is that we are emotionally disconnected from the cells and emotionally committed to those humans who better resemble us. There’s a simple reason the partial-birth abortion ban passed with little outrage: a dead baby that looks like a child is harder to kill than a mass of undifferentiated cells.

But is that the line we’re willing to draw? The humans who look and behave like we do and can take care of themselves get a chance to live, but "the others" are at the mercy of those who might or might not want to care for them? I don’t think so. If we have any respect as a culture for the innate value of human life–and I propose that we do and that it is hard-wired into us–then whether a human owns eyeballs, connective tissue, or a cerebellum, or remembers his wife or how to use a pen, or thinks the sky is purple and he is being chased by rabbits should not matter.

But these people are so inconvenient and so hard on all of us. So much burden, and pain, and suffering exist in this world. Yes. But wouldn’t you rather have been born than killed to ease someone else’s emotional suffering? I would have. (An aside: for those of you who are starting to hate me for using the word "killed" to describe eradicating a life form composed of only a few cells or hovering in amniotic fluid: look it up. I’m not a Conservative Republican, but English is English.)

This brings up a sensitive point. As I mentioned above, I support abortion in very limited circumstances. When a woman is raped, if the abortion happens soon enough, I support it. Why? Because this woman never chose to have a baby or otherwise engaged in risky behavior that she knew could lead to pregnancy. But that’s arbitrary, you say. Yes. It is.

However, as many of us–whether we know it or not–are OK with the deaths of many thousands of innocent men, women, and children in order to win a war that must be won (think of Germany 1940-1945), I am OK with the death of an innocent human composed of relatively few cells (there’s the emotionally deceptive part of it again) to save the emotional life of another innocent: the raped mother. I must say as a caveat that I would be much less supportive of abortion in this case in the second trimester, and would oppose it in the third. A rape victim has a lot of time during the first trimester to make up her mind. If I were raped (and I am not a woman, so I tread on hallowed ground here at risk of castration), I would hope to be able to carry the baby to term and deliver it. But I would never tell another woman–an innocent victim herself–to do so.

The same applies to the victim of incest. However, that is a worse case: the chances of the child being physiologically normal are close to zero. Perhaps I would tolerate abortion at a later stage. Again: innocent for innocent.

Finally, as long as I’m covering exceptions: I would choose to save my wife’s life at the expense of the baby not yet born. I hate it. I hate conceiving it, contemplating it, and keying these sentences. But it’s true. Why? Because I am emotional. My love for my wife is greater than my love for a baby who hasn’t seen the light of day. That said, once the baby’s out in the light, I’d be faced with a dreadful decision that I don’t care to contemplate. Arbitrary? Perhaps. Human? Absolutely. Innocent for innocent.

Back to what abortion is not. It is not whether the state controls a woman’s body. I believe the state has a responsibility to protect the innocent all of us, regardless of our shape, size, color, or constituency. Unless, that is, the United States Senate and the United States House of Representatives enact a law, signed by the President, that legalizes abortion in the United States.

But, you say, the United States Supreme Court in Roe v. Wade legalized abortion. You’re right. It did. And that decision will be overturned in your lifetime. Why? Because there is nothing in the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution that supports the right to end the life of another human being, whether 4 cells or 400 pounds.

Roe v. Wade, as interpreted by the Supreme Court in Planned Parenthood v. Casey, created a right to "privacy" based on first-trimester "inviability" supported by the socioeconomic notion that a working woman should not be burdened by raising an unwanted child. Read them. You’ll be amazed. Just like all of my liberal law-school friends and I were. Without judicial feat–and I’m the first to say both liberal and conservative appeals-court judges can be "activist"–there would be no right to an abortion in this country without a statute guaranteeing as much.

But many people–perhaps you–argue that whether a woman has an abortion should not be the business of the state at all. We all agree that the state should prevent a person from murdering humans outside the womb, including you, me, our families and friends. There’s no debate. But the state shouldn’t protect the life of a human inside the womb because . . . it’s inside someone else’s body? I don’t get it. That non-human-looking human is human, unique, separate, self. Not an appendage of the body in which it lives and from which it takes its oxygen and nutrients. I see nothing but an arbitrary bright line that should be erased.

While some say the abortion decision should be between a woman and her God, I say this: if there is someone out there who would attempt to kill me or my family or friends, I am more comforted by his knowing that the state would prohibit and punish his actions than by his notions of what God might want. That said–and I remain in atheist mode–I can only guess that God didn’t give us the ability to reproduce simply to destroy the thing created.

Finally, with that in mind, I say this. We have the incredible ability to reproduce. (Although one of my more cynical friends calls it the ability to make "500,000 miracles a day.") Whatever you call it, it’s at the heart of my opposition to abortion-for-convenience. We have this privilege of reproduction. With every privilege comes responsibility. With every responsibility comes hard discipline. If you freely and willingly have sexual intercourse, you take the risk that the woman involved will become pregnant. You have shouldered a responsibility. You must have the discipline, therefore, to live up to that responsibility.

That means two things.

First: if you have sex and you’re not trying to make a baby, use contraception. There’s absolutely no excuse for not using contraception. None. (Remaining in atheist mode: if you happen to be Roman Catholic and follow the Vatican’s abhorrence for contraception, you’re out of luck. Get married early to the right person and hope the husband has a well-paying job and the wife has strong arches in her feet.)

Second: if you’re the mother or father of another human being, put yourself in that person’s place, whether that person is 30 hours old and 8 cells wide or kicking you in the intestines waiting to be born. Because–even though life sucks sometimes, and sometimes sucks a whole lot–it’s great being alive.

80 Million Barrels a Day

2005-06-15T14:44:00.000-06:00

I'm happy to announce good new for all those either foolish or self-serving enough to deny that human activity since the dawn of the Industrial Revolution has affected climate change.

Philip Cooney, the White House's Council on Environmental Quality chief of staff and former oil-industry lobbyist, will join Exxon Mobil. When Cooney read government reports on climate change and decided to oversee final edits that would downplay human activity as a cause while casting doubt on good science, I'm sure Exxon Mobil was in the back of his mind. In part because Exxon Mobil Chairman Lee Raymond hates the Kyoto climate accord and constantly questions climate scientists and their work.

I can understand being skeptical about science. About the conclusions scientists reach. About the conclusions scientists reach that are acclaimed, upheld, and otherwise bolstered by the world's top scientists over many years then published in the world's top peer-reviewed journals. I can certainly understand being skeptical about work that you're not trained to do or understand. I worked in a lab a few doors down from guys studying glacial ice-core samples 10 hours a day with a view toward ancient atmospheres. Woah.

But when you work for Exxon, it's not really skepticism at play. It's your cause. Your livelihood. Your raison d'etre. If this global warming thing is true, and if enough people believe it, then Exxon has to find some new product lines. That's why the "skepticism" of Cooney and Raymond is nothing more than propaganda thinly disquised as righteousness.

All that said, I drive a car. I like driving my car because it makes travel much easier in a city beset by ancient socio-economic postulates that undermine public transportation. And it takes me one-third of the time to get to work. So I'm not against oil companies, as a general measure. Even if I didn't drive, I'm surrounded by enough plastic on a daily basis to stock the tables of a block-long stretch of Manhattan schtick-vendors. In fact, I'm becoming convinced that many of the oil companies are embracing forward thinking. Some even shy away from the prospect of drilling in ANWR.

But as long as profits are solely linked to our tired emotional and physical bond with petroleum as fuel, the prospect of global warming--despite the evidence--will remain anathema to those controlling the pump.

Without a Net

2005-06-15T10:13:00.000-06:00

This weekend over dinner with relatives visiting from the great Midwest, the question "Are we really more secure since 9/11?" came up. If a dinner lasts beyond dessert and into lingering drinks, the topic is inevitable. Borders, ports, chemical plants: the usual culprits were acknowledged, pondered, and--with a shudder of anxiety--discarded for lighter fare.

Today, I read commercial pilot Patrick Smith's essay on a loophole I didn't know existed. While all of us who fly are allowed to admire the smart uniforms and cocky personae of the pilots and flight attendants standing in the snaking, shuffling security lines with us, it turns out we are not allowed to see something else.

Hector, who works for an aircraft-cleaning contractor, is shuttled from the parking lot to the terminal, where he slides his ID badge through a magnetic reader on a security door and walks, backpack full of day's gear, to a waiting Air France 777 whose seat backs he must empty and toilets he must scrub. Without walking through a metal detector, having his bag searched, or talking to security personnel. And the Hectors of United States airports number almost one million. If he's been through a background check at all, it might be overlooked or otherwise ignored. Background aside, nothing prevents him from doing what he will, unsupervised, inside a plane awaiting takeoff.

Read it. It's astonishing. More importantly, Smith lends his usual level-headedness to a possible solution.

Question of the hour: While a zero-tolerance security environment is cost-prohibitive, why can't the TSA focus more on security itself than the perception of security?

Stupid Little Gum

2005-06-14T15:25:00.000-06:00

I chew a lot of gum. The mint is refreshing. The cinnamon is lively, a little prodding. The bubble gum flavor harkens back to the days when I wore knickers. . . .

I'm sorry; did I actually say that out loud? It's not like I wore ladies' underwear or anything. Maybe the stretchy work-out kind once in a while. To prevent chaffing.

Anyway.

I'm tired of the gum. It's all small pieces, flavor that lasts about 12 minutes, and so much packaging that I have to use a staple remover to get to the tiny space-food-lookin' pieces. I end up chewing about 8 pieces at a time to maintain any remotely fullfilling mouth-feel. I end up wrestling with this huge mass of jaw-cringing nastiness that after about 4 minutes retains only a piddling lukewarm trickle of the Arctic Chill I'm promised.

The sad thing is that the packaging and the advertisements promise so much more:

ICE: "There's nothing colder than ice." You're right. But this is gum. And it blows.

Orbit: Look at me, I'm doing 5 G's in my frickin' mouth with this space-age gum, ma! Screw you, Wrigley's.

Juicy Fruit: I'm so juicy! I'm so juicy! Yeah, you're full of sugar, big guy. And, while I admit you're somewhat mystically fruity flavor is appealing, I'm still left with a tan-grey asteroid of rubber in my mouth 10 minutes later.

I'd settle for a bag of Big League Chew--despite the sugar and the 30-second flavor burst that burns out to nothing--just for something interesting. But, alas, I can't find it anywhere. And can you see me in my knickers jamming a palm full of shredded bubble gum in my cheek? Pink shreds falling everywhere.

Even the excruciatingly artificial grape of a massive cargo-container chunk of Bubbalicious would beat the crap out of one of these weak, "flavor charged!" "just-brushed-clean-feeling," "look how pretty and smooth and hard-shelled I am" niblets of glory.

Screw you, gum makers.

Bastards.

My Kind of Crazy Republican

2005-06-09T14:02:00.000-06:00

[He] was variously reported to have marched twenty miles through heavy rain (in Norfolk jacket, corduroy knickers, yellow leggings, and russet shoes), swum nude across the freezing river, and climbed with fingers and toes up the blast holes of a disused quarry. His habit of forcing luncheon guests to accompany him on afternoon treks did not endear him to those who would have preferred to remain behind with the wine and walnuts.

. . .

On May 28, he was seen hanging from a cable over the Potomac, presumably in some effort to toughen his wrists. Owen Wister caught him walking behind John Hay on tiptoe, bowing like an obsequious Oriental. This might or might not have been connected with the fact that [he] was currently studying jujitsu. White House groundsmen, unaware that he was a published ornithologist, were puzzled by his habit of standing under trees, motionless, for long periods of time. Hikers in Rock Creek State Park learned to take cover when he galloped by, revolver in hand; he had a habit of "popping" shortsightedly at twigs and stumps with live ammunition.

. . .

On another occasion he appeared in George Cortelyou's antechamber and jumped clean over a chair. He encouraged his big horse, Bleistein, to similar arts of levitation at the Chevy Chase Club. Photographs of them airborne together soon appeared in the Washington Times. [He] was delighted--"Best pictures I've ever had taken!"--and passed out autographed copies to his Cabinet.

On Teddy Roosevelt as President. Edmund Morris, Theodore Rex, pp. 81, 108-109.

T.R. found such free time while returning the Cuba he helped liberate and modernize to its people, waging a war for the Philipines, decrying continued lynchings in the South, taking White House dinner with Booker T. Washington (for which he was called "a rank negrophilist" and "a coon-flavored president" by his more vocal detractors; to which he responded, "I shall have him to dine just as often as I please"), and winning votes for construction of the Panama Canal. Not to mention taking on the largest trust in American history.

Now that's Presidential.

Eleven Thoughts for Today

2005-06-09T09:22:00.000-06:00

1. Every one of us has our most comfortable place, our zone. And I'm sure there are factors--some divergent--that influence what that zone is. For instance, like many people, I'm most comfortable when sleeping right before I get up. Which can be annoying, but the memory of that perfect snooze-place can keep me mellow in the mornings. When I'm eating a banana that's in my banana zone it's a little brown. No green anywhere. But not "past". Everyone has their banana zone. These are minor, everyday zones.

The more profound ones are the ones where you feel like you can relax and fill-out, occupy, the whole, real you. Really be you. Like when I'm running, after the first few minutes when my muscles and joints are elbowing each other, when I get into that state in which I feel like the top of my body is hovering over well-oiled, precision-engineered gears as my arms and legs rhythm me through the miles.

Speaking of rhythm, I'm in the zone at my drum set. I have been since I was 10 years old. When I'm in, I'm in, always pushing myself with more challenging parts, 3-D in the athleticism of it, the soaring of the music, the muscle of it, but also the polyrhythms, the details, the off-beat fills, the accents, the melodic undertones of the musical drummer. Wildly hoping that someday I'll approximate the talents and skills of Max Roach, Carter Beauford, Dave Weckl, Art Blakey, Stewart Copeland.

I'm in the zone when I'm reading. Maybe a Daniel Silva novel or maybe one of my birding books or an account of the Arab-Israeli air wars of the past 60 years.

I'm in the zone when I'm waist-deep in a trout stream simultaneously watching my Adams dry fly and an American Dipper perched on a low rock looking for lunch and my mind is not wandering to work or extended-family issues.

I'm in the zone when I'm talking and laughing with my wife, and we both admire each other so much. Or when I'm reading to my smiling and pointing daughter. Or when I'm deep into throwing the glow-ball with my dog.

But the wandering mind, the daily anxieties-- they can break the zone. I need to work on maintaining the relaxation, the focus. Where are your zones?

2. David Bowie, in an interview for Rolling Stone back in 2003 (I believe) said that he was "not quite an atheist" and "that bothers me." I was taken by this because: 1) I've been there; and 2) it signifies to me both a) what I believe is the inherent, subconscious ability of all humans to realize their place in a universe occupied by a living presence more powerful than theirs, and b) our intrinsic human-centeredness, the natural top-predator, most-advanced-species inclination to doubt, fear, ridicule, or otherwise resist anything that tends to evade our knowledge and influence. With all that in mind, I also think--in classic Bowie style--he's saying something profound that is also zippy and edgy and rock-n-roll enough for a guy like me to quote on his pipsqueak blog site. Which is just cool.

3. I wonder how "most Arabs" (and I put that in quotes to let you know how ridiculous such a generalization is, but that's all I can do for now) discern the American military's treatment of their Arab brothers and sisters. Perhaps I should ask how "most Muslims" feel, but that begs the question how many of "most Muslims" out there would consider any of the (alleged) fundamentalist jihadists in American prison camps brethren.

In an interview with NPR this morning, a mass-media professor at an American university in Lebanon said that "most" of the people he's talked to or seen interviewed on Middle Eastern TV news shows believe Americans mistreat Muslim prisoners in violation of international law. Since the Abu Ghraib photos appeared, this is the baseline assumption, he said.

As we all know, Newsweek published its Koran-flushing tidbit, a riot killing over a dozen people ensued in Afghanistan, then Newsweek retracted the story. Now the Pentagon admits American soldiers have kicked, stepped on, and possibly splashed urine on the Koran. The professor said that none of this was surprising to "most" Muslims in the Middle East, and that no one believed the retraction. When asked whether Koran-bashing U.S. interrogators and prison staffers in Iraq, Afghanistan, or Gitmo represented a "secular" Western powerhouse with no respect for religion or a "Christian" nation bent on undermining or even destroying Islam, the professor said almost all of those Muslims questioned chose the second answer.

Now, I know that one professor at one university in Lebanon is one--and only one--uncorroborated (and in this case, second-hand) source. If I were a journalist, I'd be conducting my own surveys of folks in the bazaars and markets and cafes in Beirut, Kabul, Damascus, and Amman. I'd be interviewing other "experts," and government ministers, opposition spokespeople, and clerics. But I'm not a journalist. I'm just a blogger. For the sake of argument, however, let's assume "most" Muslims in the Middle East do believe there is a new form of Crusade taking place, perpetrated by a few Americans whose stereotyped mistreatment of prisoners, now confirmed by the Pentagon, goes a long way. Is this cause for worry? I think so.

4. Sen. Biden said that the U.S. should close down Gitmo because of the bad publicity it generates. To those "most Muslims" out there, isn't this an insult? If one of the 101 facially most important people in U.S. government suggests we shut down an internationally criticized prison camp, shouldn't he suggest that we do it because of human-rights problems or because it's no longer serving its purpose, not to improve America's image? While his proferred reason might be a nice circumstantial effect, by playing his hand so poorly he makes the United States look like it cares more about what people think is happening at Gitmo than what is actually going down. Of course that may be exactly what is happening.

5. Prisoner abuse. Anyone who has ever watched Counterterrorism Unit Agent Jack Bauer, the Keifer Sutherland character on the hit TV show "24", circumvent the Constitutional rights of individual prisoners to save the lives of millions of Americans has seen prisoner abuse portrayed in exquisite detail in their living room. And, like all of you who have seen it, I've experienced that thrill that comes from that feeling that "ultimate justice" has been done.

And so many people out there agree: what's one person's rights in the face of terror? Even I, an attorney well versed in the Constitution, let my heart go there. Especially when I consider the unsavory idea that to protect my wife or daughter I'd gladly beat the living daylights out of someone with information that could save them, as long as nothing else worked. And yet I recall this: if the least and ugliest of us are denied their rights, those rights cannot be guaranteed for the best and most beautiful. Much less the rest of us.

6. One of my brothers-in-law lives and works in Afghanistan. He's been in Kabul for some time. Soon he will be moving north. Here are some observations he sent me. I hope he doesn't mind my sharing. But the world should know:

a) Location of Badakhshan province in Afghanistan: northeast, bordering China,
Tajikistan, and Uzbekistan;

b) Number of hours spent on horse from April 27-May 6 in Badakhshan province surveying potential hydropower sites: ~50;

c) Number of hoped-for hydropower installations for Badakhshan province, 2005: 20;

d) Average winter diet of Badakhshan's people: bread, tea, rice, oil;

e) Number of meals eaten with meat or beans during April 27-May 6 survey trip: 1;

f) Number of meals with vegetables or fruit: 0;

g) Rank, worldwide, of Badakhshan for maternal mortality rate: 1;

h) Amount allegedly paid by one of the new district governors to provincial government, for a one-year post: $100,000;

i) Number of district governors we drank tea
with who are aiding opium smugglers in their district: 3;

j) Number of foreign NGO offices burned to the ground in the town of Bahrak, two
hours (by car) east of Faizabad, on May 14, 2005: 3;

k) Number of Afghan women hanged in Baghlan province (just west of Badakhshan) on May 16, 2005: 3

7. Renewal of the Patriot Act. If only those affected by it were able to bring suit to challenge its constitutionality. The irony. No doubt some provisions are fine, but c'mon. Perhaps some of the firey Dems on their lukewarm side of the aisle will blast it with more than idle rhetoric as the vote nears.

8. I really like how Howard Dean says whatever he's feeling. I respect that in a person. I like the passion, the honesty. Too bad so many people see him as the voice of all Democrats. He is, of course, Democratic Party Chairman, so what should I expect? Would someone please harness his energy and put it to good use without further undermining the political prowess of the Democratic party? Thanks.

9. I like nothing better than dancing with my 15-month-old daughter. She's all spirit and life and happy movement and love. And--dang!--is she funny!

10. I dig fine weather photography. Check out this incredible shot of a sun-lit tornado destroying a house. Yikes. Eric Nguyen's photos of tornadoes and supercells and wall clouds are some of my favorites.

11. Get outside today.

A Question to Begin

2005-06-03T11:30:00.000-06:00

I've long contemplated writing about my views on abortion. To the chagrin of some of my readers who would rather have me delving into lighter matters (which--don't get me wrong--I enjoy very much), I feel the time is ripe. However, I begin not with my opinions, but with this question:

How is the abortion of a 3-day-old fetus growing in the womb of a 9-year-old raped by her father any more or less "murder" than the killing of hundreds if not thousands of innocent people (men, women, and children of all ages) as collateral damage under Just War Theory, espoused by many Christians, from St. Thomas Aquinas to President Bush?

For now, I let that settle in.

The Battle Ensues

2005-06-02T08:11:00.000-06:00

Here is my reply to AJMac's response over at Pithy Banter. Why, oh, why have we gotten into this topic? For any of you who might just now be tuning in, please know that AJMac and I have a great deal of respect for one another and do not take any of this personally. Others on opposing sides of the fence on this issue out in the blogosphere are not so fortunate. Here it is:

Yes! We've unleashed the hounds! Over one-hundred years of peer-reviewed science has revealed a methodology to us. But we're still stuck. Amazing.

First of all, let me correct two things. AJMac obviously read my post too quickly. I wrote: "Since I have no problem with God somehow making this happen (and I fall into 88% of the American population based on 20 years of Gallup polls), I'm not troubled." AJMac interpreted this to mean just the opposite, that "88% of the population is purportedly Darwinist." Perhaps he might take a break while schooling me in the fineries of debate tactics and read what I wrote. Or maybe I'm being too harsh and wasn't clear. 88% of Americans believe God either created (*snap!*) life on earth or otherwise created (by evolution or whatever process) life on earth. (By the way, I have no doubt AJMac is a better debater than I am. And I couldn't recite half the Latin he knows by heart.) Second, AJM writes: "'He employs the dismissive argument that Darwinism is science and anyone who doesn't buy it is "uneducated about natural selection' and only studying 'natural selection... for fun and in an effort to synthesize Biblical references to scientific observation.'" Evolution by natural selection is a scientific principle. I never said anyone who doesn't "buy it" is uneducated about natural selection. Being uneducated about natural selection, however, seems to be a common occurrence among those berating Darwinism. I do not believe AJMac is uneducated about it. I do believe, however, that his particular stake in making sure it's not true undermines objectivity he--like scientists attempting to falsify their data--might otherwise exhibit. But I don't want to get him started on the "ideal of objectivity" that he believes is such a crock. Third, as long as we're off-topic, AJMac speaks of "publicly-sponsored indoctrination in schools and universities for the past two generations" of Darwinism. Does he have a better idea of what one might teach about origins of life in a science classroom? Does he have any other methodology that is accepted by the vast majority of life scientists to show us? Everything in nature has come about as the result of some biological method. But not new species? Spontaneous generation was explicitly disproven long ago, and no one today would argue that mold, or for that matter, butterflies or bluegills, just appear. Has science given us anything more compelling, or are we to ask children to ignore the scientific method for a chapter and pick up Genesis instead? Maybe just as an alternative, right? Maybe as an alternative to math we should read the poetry of the Psalms or the wisdom of Ecclesiastes. Maybe as an alternative to contemporary American history, we should substitute the history of the Jewish Diaspora as driven by the Exodus. I'm all for kids being open minded and learning the Truth. But in science class, they should be learning ONLY what science--based on peer-reviewed, well-accepted theory, can teach us. If science doesn't get us to God (and I think it does; but not as directly as AJMac and others want), then parents, role models, and churches need to do it.

Now I'll pause for AJMac to rip that apart because I was so juvenile. . . . OK. Back to Darwinism. As a threshold matter, I wonder why AJMac chose to ignore so many of my specific examples. That aside, AJMac writes: "This logical fallacy -- post hoc ergo proctor hoc; it followed after therefore was caused by -- is the foundational flaw in Darwinian logic. That humans resemble apes does not tell us whether humans evolved from apes or whether God created humans and apes distinctly while endowing them with similar genomes. Even if it could be established that humans appear after apes in the fossil record, chronology does not establish causation." Ah, I do respect and have a high opinion of AJMac's arguments. But he's missing the point. Darwinism is not about one species following another. Many species follow many others and have nothing in common with them. It is, however, about the ability of organisms to change themselves (or be changed by God, if you like) for the better of their species in response to their environment. I like AJMac's idea that perhaps God created human and apes distinctly while endowing them with similar genomes. OK. I can accept that. But the scientific process has yielded no evidence of this. That doesn't mean that someday science will not reveal it as true. What it does mean is that we have limited sight through science. (And, by the way, homo sapiens and the Great Apes are said to have evolved from a shared ancestor, not humans from apes, as the usual scare-tactic fallacy goes.) If that means we need to add to science for an honest understanding of the Truth--as I know AJMac agrees--then, fine. Just not in a science classroom.

AJMac also writes: "In other words, belief in speciation is the product not of scientific observation but rather, as the Accipiter puts it, of inference. Just like belief in creation by an Intelligent Designer is the product of inference. However, not all inferences are equally reasonable and the sheer mathematical improbability of speciation makes it rather fanciful, indeed." AJMac chooses to ignore my arguments and revert back to his own, which--check--is hisprerogativee. Scientific observation includes that which is both direct and indirect (or inferential). Belief in God is the product of inference, true. Belief in speciation is also the product of inference. For me, I have absolutely no problem melding both beliefs. Others cannot. As to the "sheer mathematical improbability," AJMac, without the slightest bit of his usual logical analysis, throws out the notion that "billions and billions" of years are required for evolution, and the Earth is not old enough. Darwinists and thousands of scientists whose livelihoods depend on their applying the fundamentals of natural selection don't seem to have a problem with this proferred time constraint. So why should I or anyone else believe an Orthodox Christian trial lawyer who claims to know better? For my part, I would say the sheer mathematical improbability of the anything in the universe existing apart from God is overwhelming. So, God it is. But He gave us science, and a hell of a lot of clues turned evidence that lead--if one is willing to follow the path--right to Him. Just not in the way AJMac and others who won't accept evolution by natural selection believe. Whether Biblical literalists like it or not. (And I'm not saying AJMac is a Biblical literalist, just for the record.)

Next, AJMac slides back over to the mousetrap/watchmaker/eyeball irreducible complexity argument he's read so much about. He writes: "organs and systems cannot evolve piecemeal." Says who? I'd like to poll the research M.D.'s over at the University of Colorado Hospital and see if they agree. What really surprises me is that while the irreducible complexity argument argues for God, so does the argument that organs and systems could evolve piece by piece. Whether AJMac wants to admit it or not, the vast majority of scientists out there are not the raving, illogical, senseless, evil-prone atheists he imagines. Most of them--I dare say--would admit to an awesome intelligence far beyond our understanding that could imagine forth such a puzzle as life on Earth. This next part just pisses me off: "The Accipiter might mean that an Intelligent Designer 'tuned,' 'detailed,' and expressed His 'preferences' through His own mysterious, creative processes that defy scientific explanation. Of course, that cannot be his meaning; he has not otherwise demonstrated a willingness so to surrender to the compelling logic of intelligent design." Let's see. I wrote this: "I believe--evolution by natural selection shows us how incredibly elegant, complex, and beautiful God is." And this: "As the environment forced the best traits to be exploited through reproduction and the worst ones to be eliminated, the best traits prevailed. (For me, this amounts to God making music with genes as notes.)" And this: "The eyeball--or for that matter the human brain--is so complex as to be otherworldly, or, as some would say, only within the province of God as Creator. I certainly empathize with such awe." Now, I don't know about you, but does it seem that I might just think God had something to do with making all this happen? Whether I fall into the camp of "Intelligent Design" gurus that AJMac has evidently joined with, I have no idea. But to say that I've not "surrendered to compelling logic" of their Creator version is only to say that the "logic" expounded by AJMac has not been compelling enough.

Finally, AJMac writes: "The Accipiter differs from me in his willingness to give God credit for the special design of various species, particularly humans. Instead, the Accipiter insists that "'we have incredible genes that have best adapted us to this thing we call humanity.'" Maybe I missed something. AJMac surely did. What I am saying here is that God have us our humanity. Is it special? Of course. Are we like no other creature on the planet? Of course. Do we have souls? I sure think so. I have no doubt why AJMac puts so much energy into his defense of humans. But it's not an argument with which I disagree. Just for the record, chimps and gorillas paint and sing and are on record doing so. While they might not "aspire to careers," they live lives of emotional purpose and have been recorded for the last 40 years learning and interacting with humans with great intelligence. I'm sure they create dance steps, and I'm just as sure they don't care about Valentine's day. And they certainly do long (for lost family members; it's well documented), tell stories, and (one of the only animals to do so) contemplate their existence (they're the only other species to recognize themselves in a mirror). But I don't find any of that threatening like I think AJMac seems to. Because humans resemble the Creator so much more.

How Deep?

2005-06-01T16:47:00.000-06:00

A quick thought on this Deep Throat revelation.

The historical and contemporary significance is becoming obvious, I think.

First, the Mainstream Media can revel in its past, enjoying the fruits of W&B's labor, newly revealed as produced without additives or coloring.

Second, MSM can use W&B's work as a touchstone for doing better, and more, investigative journalism regardless of how bloggers on the Right would paint them. While the Fourth Estate has taken enough self-inflicted blows to put big George Foreman in a body bag next to his tiny, little, no-fat grill, it somehow keeps chugging along. I don't forget that all of us depend on those throngs of reporters to give us something to chew on every day and to, well, prompt us to . . . evoke. But I hope Deep Throat in the flesh will summon the higher ethics that were left behind in loud newsrooms draped with cigarette smoke and ringing with the clang of IBM Selectric typewriters.

Three: MSM needs to give itself a lesson in sources and trust, so as, well, not to cause rioting in Arab countries that leaves dead Muslims and others crumpled in the streets. Mistakes are mistakes. But give me a break. I predicted the fall of Newsweek in the aftermath. We'll see.

Four: Whistleblowers are incredibly valuable to this country.

Five: Even 91-year-olds need a little sumpm-sumpm.

Evolution by Natural Selection

2005-06-01T13:40:00.000-06:00

I posted this at Pithy Banter as a response to AJMac's criticism of evolution.

I hate this topic. I'm not sure if it's ignorance, or fear, or a failure to be intellectually honest, or too much faith in editorialists and website creators. But this ultimate origins debate is just another wedge plunged deep into the fabric of this divided country. How silly. It all comes, in the end, down to faith. Like I've said before, I can't tell you what happened before the Big Bang, or whether the Big Bang even happened, so the idea that God started it all and made some very cool things happen (whether one believes He's "personal" or not) makes the most sense to me. Because I cannot prove it, however, I must take it on faith.

Evolution by natural selection, in contrast, doesn't require much in the way of faith. It only requires attentiveness and real intellectual honesty. I do not feel compelled to stretch and pull and push what I have observed and what my human coinhabitants of this planet have carefully researched to comport with every word in the Bible. I believe God has it all worked out, but He wants us to work hard to understand it. To use that big brain.

Full disclosure: I do my best here, based on my best understanding. But the guys who do this work for a living are the best ones to consult. So if you don't believe me, ask them. Do a web search: the fight is alive and kicking out there.

Here goes.

Darwinism is not a religion. While I accept the notion that all beliefs are in some way grounded in faith, Darwinism has nothing to do with belief in or reverence for a supernatural power, or an organized system founded on such belief. It might be a cause pursued with zeal or conscience, but–at least to the extent by "Darwinism" AJM means "evolution by natural selection"–Darwinism is a scientific theory. It is an explanatory statement that fits the evidence. Scientists work by falsification: if they are intellectually honest, they take the theory as their best view of reality until some severely conflicting data or better explanations come along. Einstein's relativity: theory. Earth orbiting the sun: theory. Existence and characteristics of atoms: theory. Molecular interaction: theory. Electricity: theory. Movement of light: theory. Scientific theory–including evolution by natural selection–is not some pipe-dream, or unreliable, speculative wish. Neither is evolution by natural selection "illogical." In fact, like all good science, it is purely logical, having none of the trappings of human emotion: hope, adherence to authority for fear of offending such authority, or fancy. Instead, it is based on falsification: posing a hypothesis and assaulting it with potentially undermining facts. By doing this–I believe–evolution by natural selection shows us how incredibly elegant, complex, and beautiful God is. But that is not the purpose of science.

AJM says that inter-species mutation is common. He’s right. It’s called anagenesis, and it is a crucial element of the process of evolution by natural selection. It’s the reason humans spend billions of dollars a year trying to combat viruses like HIV that–by prioritizing and replicating only the its genes that best allow it to exist in and exploit its present environment–mutate faster than we can kill them. What AJM fails to accept is that genetic changes also can accumulate within an isolated portion of the species but not the whole species, as that smaller population adapts to its local environment, such as a Pacific island. At a certain point intra-species mutations make it so distinct from the main part of the population that it cannot breed with the majority. It becomes a new species. This–in contrast to what AJM contends–enjoys abundant evidence in the fossil record. What Darwin described as "closely allied" species, such as flightless rhea species in South America rather than ostrich species in Africa or moa species in New Zealand, are clear examples of speciation. Anatomical evidence also abounds, such as the existence of a detached pelvis and useless tiny legs in the skeleton of an early whale, which links this animal to ancient antelope species. DNA analysis, of course, has directly confirmed the shared similarities between divergent species, even concluding that, through a comparison of the efforts of the Human Genome Project and the Mouse Genome Project, of 30,000 total genes in each species, 99% of them had counterparts in the other species. This on top of the well-established fact that humans share 98% of the same genes with pygmy chimpanzees.

AJM says that no one has directly observed such speciation occur, however. Science relies on both direct observation and inference, like so many other disciplines. The absence of direct observation–as any faithful Christian knows–does not eliminate the existence of that being observed. That said, it is true that no one has directly observed speciation, because it occurs much less frequently than anagenesis, and occurs over time periods longer than a research scientist’s life. However, one set of scientists specializing in observation of 35 generations of fruit fly, and another looking at 20,000 generations of E. coli bacteria are very close to confirming this relatively rare event. Which highlights AJM’s observation that there is not enough time for speciation to happen. I’m not sure where he got his numbers (perhaps he needs to consult those who study evolution by natural selection for a living not just cosmologists who do it for fun and in an effort to synthesize Biblical references to scientific observation), but the numbers I’ve seen convince me–and legions of scientists–that the earth is old enough.

The irreducible complexity argument is compelling, but–at least for me–not particularly worrisome. The eyeball–or for that matter the human brain–is so complex as to be otherworldly, or, as some would say, only within the province of God as Creator. I certainly empathize with such awe. However, over time, as organisms evolved to require eyes, the eyes were formed. Each piece had its own origin, driven to purpose and to interaction with other pieces by external circumstances. Cells evolved–through genes that produced such characteristics because they were the most well adapted–sensitivity to external forces, touch, then light, then, as parts of a whole, to vision. Molecules become organelles become cells become organs become systems. It’s not as mystical as the mouse-trap analogy suggests. Geneticists today have a very good understanding of how genes control such phenotypes, and this research plays a critical role in medical research. Since I have no problem with God somehow making this happen (and I fall into 88% of the American population based on 20 years of Gallup polls), I’m not troubled.

The problem, of course, for so many who are uneducated about natural selection, is that it could not happen because it is thought to be "random." For anyone who understands natural selection, however, it is clear that the genetic preferences exhibited by changing organisms and their parts are hardly ever the product of chance or chaos. Instead, they are the product of precise, finely tuned, incredibly detailed adaptations to specific environmental conditions. As the environment forced the best traits to be exploited through reproduction and the worst ones to be eliminated, the best traits prevailed. (For me, this amounts to God making music with genes as notes.) Finally, as to human phenomena, all I can say is this: we have incredible genes that have best adapted us to this thing we call humanity. And both AJM and I can thank God for them.

Hubris

2005-05-31T15:27:00.000-06:00

"History is an antidote to the hubris of the present. We think we're so terrific. We think we know so much. We think we have such genius. Well, think again." -- David McCullough, Pulitzer prize-winning author of Truman, John Adams, and 1776.

"Be open-minded. But not so open-minded that your brain falls out." -- Stan Spencer, Advanced Placement high school history teacher, 1989.

"Do I fear for this country? No. But I'd like it better my way." -- Me, earlier today.

This is Now

2005-05-31T13:49:00.000-06:00

You all are so patient with me. I'm off gallivanting around northwest Ontario acting like a backwoods fisherman and you're still checking in to this feeble little talkbox. I appreciate it. Since I rarely transmit the bono vox I hope for, I'm virtually agog, swimming in the good graces of my readers.

So let me tell you a little bit about the big fishing trip. Eight guys, two cabins, fish, beer, boats, motors, beer, and fish. And a 30-pound fried turkey along with the 10-gallon stainless steel turkey fryer and its accessories, 10 gallons of oil and a propane tank. Did I mention eight guys?

The fishing was mediocre. We arrived at South Bay Lodge approximately 4 weeks after ice out, meaning the northern pike had already spawned, released all their aggressions, and headed for deeper water. Hence, the fast, barracuda-like topwater action in the shallows was not happening. What was happening was--at least for me--two days of 6 in which 8 or 10 hours in a 12-foot V-hull Lund with a 15-horse Yamaha and a delightful-smelling fellow man was worth it for the fish. The other 4 days were tolerable, of course, because I wasn't sitting here. By sitting here I mean sitting in this chair in this climate-controlled box or any other chair in any other climate-controlled box staring at a CRT, mind wandering to cool waters and white pines.

So the fishing was mediocre, but the guys were cool. Until the 8th day, when I had had enough of 7 other guys. It's inevitable.

A few highlights.

Two days in a row we watched an adult bald eagle focus on our shore-lunch spot from the top of a pine about 200 meters away on a tiny island (one of hundreds or even thousands dotting this 14,000-acre lake complex). After we packed up--full of northerns and lake trout, fried onions and potatoes, and pork and beans--and puttered away, he swept down, corn-yellow talons extended, and--whap!--took the largest northern pike carcass. Not five minutes later (both days), we came upon a female moose swimming--head high and chest above water--between an island and shore, maybe 600 meters distant. The second day a tiny calf accompanied her, no more than a few weeks old. She was encouraging it, swimming ahead a few meters, turning around and proding it with her nose. Incredible.

Revving the motor too much in reverse almost sent my uncle and me down a shallow waterfall at a portage lake. It was a smooth move on my part. Luckily, my brother, my cousin and I, submerged up to our necks in 53-degree water, were able to pull the boat upstream onto some rocks. There's always an adventure.

Catching northerns and walleye, one after another under the big waterfall at Premier, the portage lake, was enlivening in only a way a fisherman might understand. Rapalas and jigs.

Fishing with my cousin--with whom I was nothing but impressed on so many levels, having now gotten to know him as an adult--for lakers in the rain while the sun was setting, casting an ethereal mist-rainbow of soft light, was fantastic.

Being with my uncle when he laughed so hard he could hardly stand it was great.

My brother's jokes and stories--as always--elevated me.

I had some good conversations in the boats, and some less-serious but more rambunctious ones back at camp in the evenings. What I found most interesting is that--and I'm always surprised about this even though I've experienced it so many times--men love talking about penises. The penis is very, very funny, I know. But there's something about the fishing and the beer and the Italian beef that brings out the penis drama, the penis mythology, in all men. Sure, we talked about women, and cars, and cooking meat. And work and kids. And outlandish stories that my brother and my cousin and I delve out to push the humor boundaries. But no religion, and no politics. It was nice, actually, although somewhat empty in the deep end. (But so what. So much of what bloggers like me write about is so inconsequential in the day-to-day and, I think, in the great expanse.)

There were lots of family stories; I'm always taken with those.

Speaking of family, I was running today at lunch and realized I was 32 years old. Not that I didn't know that already. But realizing that was something else. Making it real. Incorporating that fact into the reality I experience with my senses. Fabricating it out of me parts that are usually in storage in my internal back shed.

So, that got me thinking (and what doesn't, as my boisterous friend AJM said this morning over at Do Justly, where he's putting the radical back in radical right): where do I stand in the family? And I don't mean my family, my wife, our daughter, our dog, me. I mean the family, the crucible which forged so much of my metal: my people, my line.

Let me give you some perspective. I was the first son, the first grandson, the first nephew, the first of my generation. As such, I was privileged to carry weight and break ice, grow up early, make my bones, make my way pushing against authority and absorbing all the good stuff the adults let me see, hear, taste, and know. All the big stories, the drama, the disclosures, the human stuff.

Nowadays, there are others who are or were married. There are other children other than mine. I'm no longer the first.

But having been the first leaves me out there in the expanses. You need binoculars to see me now. Because I've always gone my own way. And, as much as I have heart-tugging, warm-washed waves of memories of home, of my wonderful childhood, of my family, I still live 1000 miles away.

That doesn't mean I don't care or that I don't feel like I have a part to play. Our family is close. Sometimes anxiously close. Oft-times complex in our linkages and shared feelings. And I feel a responsibility, still. With one of three of my brothers living near me, I am often at ease. And my wife and her family are here. So I am at home. But there are times I long for the old home nonetheless. And there are responsibilities I must deal with now, as an adult.

And that brings me to my main point: In so many ways that old Home I sometimes pine for does not exist.

Most of the people do, though. And I love them. And the streets are still there. Although now they're connected to busier streets. And there are so many people I don't know. It's hard leaving a small farm town when you're 17 and coming back to it year after year as it grows into a suburb.

But my visions of yesterday are so full of color and depth and--this is key--so full of wonder because I was a child. I'm no longer a child, as much as that little rascal thrives in me. So now, and over the years of my adulthood, I have c0me to realize that my dreams are mine only because I choose to keep them alive.

Realization--this same making real of what I spoke--has completely set in. The fallibility of the adults. The idiosyncrasies that were once charming or willfully ignored or symbols of the greatness of adulthood are now profound and pronounced. The full goods and the full bads and the full-on gray areas of personality are so clear. The child in me turns away looking for warm sunset lakes and popsicles, but the adult in me sees it all for what it is.

Now, this is all pretty depressing stuff. I know that. What I cannot fail to mention, though, is that with the darkness comes a new light. A brighter, clearer, more powerful one. That is, knowing my family for who they really are--not just what I hoped or wanted them to be--is so much better. Maybe a lot of the charm has worn off, but what has replaced it is a rich understanding of the world and a rich appreciation for the power of family to uplift even me, a 32-year old son, grandson, and nephew.

I only hope my daughter will know the charm I knew for so many years, and, like I do now, keep it in her heart.

I Fish, Therefore I Am . . . A Dreamer

2005-05-17T10:46:00.000-06:00

Screw it. Writing is better than not writing.

So here's something.

I'm a fisherman. Have been since my uncle enticed me with a 6-inch perch trying to pull my Zebco spincasting reel and light-action rod from my excitable five-year-old paws. I've been at it a while.

It's one of the few things I do that makes me feel completely at ease. Wholly me. At peace. And piqued. I like the challenge. I like the hunt. I like the science of it, thinking about habitat, temperature, and season. About proper lure or fly presentation.

Most of it has nothing to do with luck.

The part that does have to do with luck is the part that makes wives and girlfriends of fisherman say "That's why they don't call it 'catching'." Speaking of luck, it's a fortunate thing that my wife, despite her able and usually fully appreciated sarcasm, doesn't say such things when I get skunked.

Because getting skunked is a piss-poor way to spend a day fishing. All the beauty of the river and the pine-scented air and the limestone-and-granite jeweled hillsides aside, not even the hand of God loosing a flock of mountain bluebirds from the junipers can make up for it. Comes close, but just doesn't cut it.

Because when you spend a day strategizing, calculating, anticipating, casting, changing flies or lures, casting again and again, walking miles along a bank, or paddling or motoring miles up the shoreline, but never eliciting even a curious strike, you are spent. Utterly spent. And empty. Then we moan and cuss and start making crass jokes about each other.

The crazy thing is that we fisherman then get up and do it again the next day. Perhaps with a more measured enthusiasm. But that little boy pulling the Eagle Claw hook with a bit of mashed redworm on it from a miniature perch jaw is still inside, simply radiating joy. So we mount up and start casting again. It's an illness.

A friend of mine just fished the Au Sable River in Michigan, a section called "The Holy Waters." Got skunked. In the presence of some of the most glorious (and glorified; this stream inspired a number of early fly-reel makers and fly tiers to create classic instruments of the sport that are revered today) brook and brown trout habitat in the world, my friend--cast after cast with his streamers, hitting all the sweet structure, submered logs, weed beds, undercut banks, dropoffs--walked away empty.

When I was on the john the other day, I was reading my High Country Angler. It makes my eyes sore for the never-ending photos of weiner-men in wide-brimmed hats with expensive fly-fishing vests adorned with the usual hemostats and line cutters holding big trout. And I mean big. Eight-pound browns from the Arkansas River. An 11-pounder from the Dream Stream section of the South Platte. Sons of bitches, I think. They're fishing waters I've canvassed with my usual full-bore dedication, they're catching the fish that have driven my dreams for years, and I'm sitting on the throne with my pants at my ankles like a guy with a cane pole asleep at a carp hole, drooling over pictures of gaggly, unshaven men holding meaty, bug-eyed piscivores.

And I'm so excited. That's what's so nuts about it.

I spend more time thinking about fishing; talking with my brother and my friends about fishing; reading about fishing; and buying gear for fishing . . . than fishing.

But all it takes is a great fish once in a while. A great hour or morning or day of fishing. A great trip here and there. And, like an addict, I'll keep throwing myself down an infinite hole, looking for more big fish. Yearning for the lunkers.

Fortunately, I have a life outside of fishing that I enjoy very much. Otherwise, I might actually become a really, really good fisherman and have to get my own show on TNN or something to satisfy my cravings. And take on a Tennessee accent and wear mesh trucker baseball caps with 2-cycle engine oil logos on them. And--gasp--catch fish every day.

In the Hole

2005-05-16T15:22:00.000-06:00

It's been a few days. 11, actually. I haven't written because, well, I really don't have much to say.

That's right. Me. Not much to say.

Sure, I have something to say about just about anything. I could debate the merits of corn v. wheat tortillas. I could wax on about the anatomy of bird feathers or the beauty of football-helmet face masks. I could talk about my friend's emerging from dyslexia or my sometime yearning for big, boxy 70s cars whose summer interiors smell like humid vinyl. I could talk about my uncles and aunts and their shaping me. Or my enthusiasm for military aircraft, preparing salsa, trim dress shirts that don't blouse above the belt, my young daughter's pointing to my wife's and my noses and ears on command. I could tell you about my Grandma's porch in Michigan, about the books there, the screened windows, the sun filtering light green through the maple out front, dancing through dusty air on the 1940s paneling behind the sofa. I could tell you about how my dad grills hamburgers so they end up taller than wide, or how he sits on the porch every time it rains. I could go on and on about the Vietnam war, give you insights on the abortion debate, share all of my very sensible views on matters of importance. God and life and purpose and. . . .

But I just don't have the jam right now. Here's why. Everyone out there has something to say, and 90% of it I've either heard before or thought before. A lot of it comes from either standing on someone else's shoulders or dully commenting on commentary. That's all good and fine. There's all kinds of chatter.

But there are so few voices. So little vision.

I don't wanna be part of the chatter.

I want to be compelled to read. By the brilliance of the piece, the lucidity, the compelling, refreshing take on the subject. Really, I want to be charmed.

I have a voice. But I need to focus it and find its heart. When I figure out how to do that in a way that makes me want to read all the huckus I post here--when I feel charming--I'll come out of my hole.

Until then, thanks for your patience. Let me know your thoughts.

SCRRRRRRUMPTIOUS!

2005-05-05T16:38:00.000-06:00

Now that I got that last post off my chest, I give you this.

Consider it proprietary knowledge for a kick-ass summer of sugar highs, afternoons asleep at your desk, and uncontrollable nervousness!

Try a peanut-butter and brown-sugar sandwich.

A friend and I used to eat these (along with PB and honey) regularly at his parents' house when we were in fourth grade. The granularness of the thing. The bing-bing-bingy-ness of the sweet zinger and the fatty-nut smoothness of the thing. Whambo! I love it. I'm salivating right now, even though I had a pumpkin-bread muffin earlier.

The PB and BS (hah! a new name for the blogosphere, PB and BS, "pundit's blather and . . . you know the rest) is best enjoyed before a game of capture-the-flag in a midwestern hardwood forest or after a swim in the above-ground, 4-foot pool with the light-blue plastic bottom adorned with white-silhouetted ocean-fish prints splashed in a loose pattern.

Don't forget the generic root beer.

And the Superfriends cups, and the Batman underwear.

And the crack whores.