Just a quick jot about one little thing that regularly bugs me on the net. Many people don't know their homonyms. I don't mean those who can't think of them. I mean those who know them all by spelling, but not by meaning. And pick the one that looks fancier…
Summer of 2004. I have considered myself an atheist at least since the summer of 2004. For the sake of feeling smart and consistent, I believe I’ve considered myself an atheist for much longer. But I only have documented evidence of such a stance dating back to the summer of 2004.
Did I have some great logical awakening that roused me to critical thinking and clear-headedness? No. I know I did not. I know I didn’t become a perfect bastion of scientific thinking because, in the summer of 2004, I believed in handwriting analysis.
A knowledge-thirsty little 10th grader, I still believed then that if someone with a PhD wrote a book, that book had to contain gospel truth. I didn’t know the difference between bad science and good science. I didn’t even realize such a rift existed. So handwriting analysis, with all of its certain language and its sheer lack of cited empirical evidence, seemed as valid as medicine or geology.
Only half a year or so later, as I struggled to tell a friend that the dominating middle region in her script belied a permanently childish outlook, did I begin to realize exactly how idiotic this whole graphology thing sounded.
Ouch. It still stings to admit. Should I also admit that I used to take multivitamins? That I preferred bottled water over tap? Evidence supports none of these beliefs.
I hope I’ve made my point clearly: atheism did not protect me from having moronic …
Sometimes, my body has a strong opinion with which I disagree.
Here’s a good recent example: My body doesn’t like getting stuck with hypodermic syringes. When I refuse to allow my body to leave the doctor’s office and when I allow my body to get jabbed with a hypodermic needle, it retaliates by fainting. It’s one of those things that I completely forget about until I’m sitting in a doctor’s office overly aware that I’m about to be stuck again. At such moments, my body reacts in a way that embarrasses and annoys me.
Here’s a bit of context. For the past few months, I’ve had some nagging back and arm pain. On a lark, I signed up for some acupuncture administered by a chiropractor. Getting stuck with those little acupuncture needles didn’t give me big problems—not that I enjoyed the sensation of those tiny needles being pushed into my back. After three treatments, I gave up on the acupuncture because it didn’t offer any long-term effect (although each treatment relieved my symptoms a bit, for a few hours).
My next step was to see my family physician, who arranged for x-rays. He told me that I had “arthritis” and suggested some physical therapy. [Before going any further, anyone reading this should probably email me a HIPPA form].
I was hoping for more of a pinpoint diagnosis, though, so I visited a doctor who specialized in Physical Medicine & Rehabilitation. He arranged for an MRI, resulting in some fascinating pictures …
I read quite a few textbook quotes from this report and I must agree: they are shockingly inaccurate. This book repeatedly pushes the conservative line, even when the facts don't support it--just like the Bush Administration. The existence of this high school textbook is yet more evidence that we are…
In this Truthout interview (by Geoffry Millard), Phil Donahue exhorts: "Don't sanitize the war." Who are the perpetrators of this effort to sanitize the war? Politicians and the media, for starters. That effort to sanitize the bloody U.S. occupation of Iraq is the main message of the newly-released movie that…