http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/20/magazine/20pacemaker-t.html?pagewanted=all

One October afternoon three years ago while I was visiting my parents, my mother made a request I dreaded and longed to fulfill. She had just poured me a cup of Earl Grey from her Japanese iron teapot, shaped like a little pumpkin; outside, two cardinals splashed in the birdbath in the weak Connecticut sunlight. Her white hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, and her voice was low. “Please help me get Jeff’s pacemaker turned off,” she said, using my father’s first name. I nodded, and my heart knocked.
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Upstairs, my 85-year-old father, Jeffrey, a retired Wesleyan University professor who suffered from dementia, lay napping in what was once their shared bedroom. Sewn into a hump of skin and muscle below his right clavicle was the pacemaker that helped his heart outlive his brain. The size of a pocket watch, it had kept his heart beating rhythmically for nearly five years. Its battery was expected to last five more.

After tea, I knew, my mother would help him from his narrow bed with its mattress encased in waterproof plastic. She would take him to the toilet, change his diaper and lead him tottering to the couch, where he would sit mutely for hours, pretending to read Joyce Carol Oates, the book falling in his lap as he stared out the window.

I don’t like describing what dementia did to my father — and indirectly to my mother — without telling you first that my parents loved each other, and I loved them. That my mother, Valerie, could stain a deck and sew an evening dress from a photo in Vogue and thought of my father as her best friend. That my father had never given up easily on anything.

Born in South Africa, he lost his left arm in World War II, but built floor-to-ceiling bookcases for our living room; earned a Ph.D. from Oxford; coached rugby; and with my two brothers as crew, sailed his beloved Rhodes 19 on Long Island Sound. When I was a child, he woke me, chortling, with his gloss on a verse from “The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam”: “Awake, my little one! Before life’s liquor in its cup be dry!” At bedtime he tucked me in, quoting “Hamlet” : “May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!”

Now I would look at him and think of Anton Chekhov, who died of tuberculosis in 1904. “Whenever there is someone in a family who has long been ill, and hopelessly ill,” he wrote, “there come painful moments when all timidly, secretly, at the bottom of their hearts long for his death.” A century later, my mother and I had come to long for the machine in my father’s chest to fail.

Until 2001, my two brothers and I — all living in California — assumed that our parents would enjoy long, robust old ages capped by some brief, undefined final illness. Thanks to their own healthful habits and a panoply of medical advances — vaccines, antibiotics, airport defibrillators, 911 networks and the like — they weren’t likely to die prematurely of the pneumonias, influenzas and heart attacks that decimated previous generations. They walked every day. My mother practiced yoga. My father was writing a history of his birthplace, a small South African town.

In short, they were seemingly among the lucky ones for whom the American medical system, despite its fragmentation, inequity and waste, works quite well. Medicare and supplemental insurance paid for their specialists and their trusted Middletown internist, the lean, bespectacled Robert Fales, who, like them, was skeptical of medical overdoing. “I bonded with your parents, and you don’t bond with everybody,” he once told me. “It’s easier to understand someone if they just tell it like it is from their heart and their soul.”

They were also stoics and religious agnostics. They signed living wills and durable power-of-attorney documents for health care. My mother, who watched friends die slowly of cancer, had an underlined copy of the Hemlock Society’s “Final Exit” in her bookcase. Even so, I watched them lose control of their lives to a set of perverse financial incentives — for cardiologists, hospitals and especially the manufacturers of advanced medical devices — skewed to promote maximum treatment. At a point hard to precisely define, they stopped being beneficiaries of the war on sudden death and became its victims.

Things took their first unexpected turn on Nov. 13, 2001, when my father — then 79, pacemakerless and seemingly healthy — collapsed on my parents’ kitchen floor in Middletown, making burbling sounds. He had suffered a stroke.

He came home six weeks later permanently incapable of completing a sentence. But as I’ve said, he didn’t give up easily, and he doggedly learned again how to fasten his belt; to peck out sentences on his computer; to walk alone, one foot dragging, to the university pool for water aerobics. He never again put on a shirt without help or looked at the book he had been writing. One day he haltingly told my mother, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

His stroke devastated two lives. The day before, my mother was an upper-middle-class housewife who practiced calligraphy in her spare time. Afterward, she was one of tens of millions of people in America, most of them women, who help care for an older family member.

Their numbers grow each day. Thanks to advanced medical technologies, elderly people now survive repeated health crises that once killed them, and so the “oldest old” have become the nation’s most rapidly growing age group. Nearly a third of Americans over 85 have dementia (a condition whose prevalence rises in direct relationship to longevity). Half need help with at least one practical, life-sustaining activity, like getting dressed or making breakfast. Even though a capable woman was hired to give my dad showers, my 77-year-old mother found herself on duty more than 80 hours a week. Her blood pressure rose and her weight fell. On a routine visit to Dr. Fales, she burst into tears. She was put on sleeping pills and antidepressants.

My father said he came to believe that she would have been better off if he had died. “She’d have weeped the weep of a widow,” he told me in his garbled, poststroke speech, on a walk we took together in the fall of 2002. “And then she would have been all right.” It was hard to tell which of them was suffering more.

As we shuffled through the fallen leaves that day, I thought of my father’s father, Ernest Butler. He was 79 when he died in 1965, before pacemakers, implanted cardiac defibrillators, stents and replacement heart valves routinely staved off death among the very old. After completing some long-unfinished chairs, he cleaned his woodshop, had a heart attack and died two days later in a plain hospital bed. As I held my dad’s soft, mottled hand, I vainly wished him a similar merciful death.

A few days before Christmas that year, after a vigorous session of water exercises, my father developed a painful inguinal (intestinal) hernia. My mother took him to Fales, who sent them to a local surgeon, who sent them to a cardiologist for a preoperative clearance. After an electrocardiogram recorded my father’s slow heartbeat — a longstanding and symptomless condition not uncommon in the very old — the cardiologist, John Rogan, refused to clear my dad for surgery unless he received a pacemaker.

Without the device, Dr. Rogan told me later, my father could have died from cardiac arrest during surgery or perhaps within a few months. It was the second time Rogan had seen my father. The first time, about a year before, he recommended the device for the same slow heartbeat. That time, my then-competent and prestroke father expressed extreme reluctance, on the advice of Fales, who considered it overtreatment.

My father’s medical conservatism, I have since learned, is not unusual. According to an analysis by the Dartmouth Atlas medical-research group, patients are far more likely than their doctors to reject aggressive treatments when fully informed of pros, cons and alternatives — information, one study suggests, that nearly half of patients say they don’t get. And although many doctors assume that people want to extend their lives, many do not. In a 1997 study in The Journal of the American Geriatrics Society, 30 percent of seriously ill people surveyed in a hospital said they would “rather die” than live permanently in a nursing home. In a 2008 study in The Journal of the American College of Cardiology, 28 percent of patients with advanced heart failure said they would trade one day of excellent health for another two years in their current state.

When Rogan suggested the pacemaker for the second time, my father was too stroke-damaged to discuss, and perhaps even to weigh, his trade­offs. The decision fell to my mother — anxious to relieve my father’s pain, exhausted with caregiving, deferential to doctors and no expert on high-tech medicine. She said yes. One of the most important medical decisions of my father’s life was over in minutes. Dr. Fales was notified by fax.

Fales loved my parents, knew their suffering close at hand, continued to oppose a pacemaker and wasn’t alarmed by death. If he had had the chance to sit down with my parents, he could have explained that the pacemaker’s battery would last 10 years and asked whether my father wanted to live to be 89 in his nearly mute and dependent state. He could have discussed the option of using a temporary external pacemaker that, I later learned, could have seen my dad safely through surgery. But my mother never consulted Fales. And the system would have effectively penalized him if she had. Medicare would have paid him a standard office-visit rate of $54 for what would undoubtedly have been a long meeting — and nothing for phone calls to work out a plan with Rogan and the surgeon.

Medicare has made minor improvements since then, and in the House version of the health care reform bill debated last year, much better payments for such conversations were included. But after the provision was distorted as reimbursement for “death panels,” it was dropped. In my father’s case, there was only a brief informed-consent process, covering the boilerplate risks of minor surgery, handled by the general surgeon.

I believe that my father’s doctors did their best within a compartmentalized and time-pressured medical system. But in the absence of any other guiding hand, there is no doubt that economics helped shape the wider context in which doctors made decisions. Had we been at the Mayo Clinic — where doctors are salaried, medical records are electronically organized and care is coordinated by a single doctor — things might have turned out differently. But Middletown is part of the fee-for-service medical economy. Doctors peddle their wares on a piecework basis; communication among them is haphazard; thinking is often short term; nobody makes money when medical interventions are declined; and nobody is in charge except the marketplace.

And so on Jan. 2, 2003, at Middlesex Hospital, the surgeon implanted my father’s pacemaker using local anesthetic. Medicare paid him $461 and the hospital a flat fee of about $12,000, of which an estimated $7,500 went to St. Jude Medical, the maker of the device. The hernia was fixed a few days later.

It was a case study in what primary-care doctors have long bemoaned: that Medicare rewards doctors far better for doing procedures than for assessing whether they should be done at all. The incentives for overtreatment continue, said Dr. Ted Epperly, the board chairman of the American Academy of Family Physicians, because those who profit from them — specialists, hospitals, drug companies and the medical-device manufacturers — spend money lobbying Congress and the public to keep it that way.

Last year, doctors, hospitals, drug companies, medical-equipment manufacturers and other medical professionals spent $545 million on lobbying, according to the Center for Responsive Politics. This may help explain why researchers estimate that 20 to 30 percent of Medicare’s $510 billion budget goes for unnecessary tests and treatment. Why cost-containment received short shrift in health care reform. Why physicians like Fales net an average of $173,000 a year, while noninvasive cardiologists like Rogan net about $419,000.

The system rewarded nobody for saying “no” or even “wait” — not even my frugal, intelligent, Consumer-Reports-reading mother. Medicare and supplemental insurance covered almost every penny of my father’s pacemaker. My mother was given more government-mandated consumer information when she bought a new Camry a year later.

And so my father’s electronically managed heart — now requiring frequent monitoring, paid by Medicare — became part of the $24 billion worldwide cardiac-device industry and an indirect subsidizer of the fiscal health of American hospitals. The profit margins that manufacturers earn on cardiac devices is close to 30 percent. Cardiac procedures and diagnostics generate about 20 percent of hospital revenues and 30 percent of profits.

Shortly after New Year’s 2003, my mother belatedly called and told me about the operations, which went off without a hitch. She didn’t call earlier, she said, because she didn’t want to worry me. My heart sank, but I said nothing. It is one thing to silently hope that your beloved father’s heart might fail. It is another to actively abet his death.

The pacemaker bought my parents two years of limbo, two of purgatory and two of hell. At first they soldiered on, with my father no better and no worse. My mother reread Jon Kabat-Zinn’s “Full Catastrophe Living,” bought a self-help book on patience and rose each morning to meditate.

In 2005, the age-related degeneration that had slowed my father’s heart attacked his eyes, lungs, bladder and bowels. Clots as narrow as a single human hair lodged in tiny blood vessels in his brain, killing clusters of neurons by depriving them of oxygen. Long partly deaf, he began losing his sight to wet macular degeneration, requiring ocular injections that cost nearly $2,000 each. A few months later, he forgot his way home from the university pool. He grew incontinent. He was collapsing physically, like an ancient, shored-up house.

In the summer of 2006, he fell in the driveway and suffered a brain hemorrhage. Not long afterward, he spent a full weekend compulsively brushing and rebrushing his teeth. “The Jeff I married . . . is no longer the same person,” my mother wrote in the journal a social worker had suggested she keep. “My life is in ruins. This is horrible, and I have lasted for five years.” His pacemaker kept on ticking.

When bioethicists debate life-extending technologies, the effects on people like my mother rarely enter the calculus. But a 2007 Ohio State University study of the DNA of family caregivers of people with Alzheimer’s disease showed that the ends of their chromosomes, called telomeres, had degraded enough to reflect a four-to-eight-year shortening of lifespan. By that reckoning, every year that the pacemaker gave my irreparably damaged father took from my then-vigorous mother an equal year.

When my mother was upset, she meditated or cleaned house. When I was upset, I Googled. In 2006, I discovered that pacemakers could be deactivated without surgery. Nurses, doctors and even device salesmen had done so, usually at deathbeds. A white ceramic device, like a TV remote and shaped like the wands that children use to blow bubbles, could be placed around the hump on my father’s chest. Press a few buttons and the electrical pulses that ran down the leads to his heart would slow until they were no longer effective. My father’s heart, I learned, would probably not stop. It would just return to its old, slow rhythm. If he was lucky, he might suffer cardiac arrest and die within weeks, perhaps in his sleep. If he was unlucky, he might linger painfully for months while his lagging heart failed to suffuse his vital organs with sufficient oxygenated blood.

If we did nothing, his pacemaker would not stop for years. Like the tireless charmed brooms in Disney’s “Fantasia,” it would prompt my father’s heart to beat after he became too demented to speak, sit up or eat. It would keep his heart pulsing after he drew his last breath. If he was buried, it would send signals to his dead heart in the coffin. If he was cremated, it would have to be cut from his chest first, to prevent it from exploding and damaging the walls or hurting an attendant.

On the Internet, I discovered that the pacemaker — somewhat like the ventilator, defibrillator and feeding tube — was first an exotic, stopgap device, used to carry a handful of patients through a brief medical crisis. Then it morphed into a battery-powered, implantable and routine treatment. When Medicare approved the pacemaker for reimbursement in 1966, the market exploded. Today pacemakers are implanted annually in more than 400,000 Americans, about 80 percent of whom are over 65. According to calculations by the Dartmouth Atlas research group using Medicare data, nearly a fifth of new recipients who receive pacemakers annually — 76,000 — are over 80. The typical patient with a cardiac device today is an elderly person suffering from at least one other severe chronic illness.

Over the years, as technology has improved, the battery life of these devices lengthened. The list of heart conditions for which they are recommended has grown. In 1984, the treatment guidelines from the American College of Cardiology declared that pacemakers were strongly recommended as “indicated” or mildly approved as “reasonable” for 56 heart conditions and “not indicated” for 31 more. By 2008, the list for which they were strongly or mildly recommended expanded to 88, with most of the increase in the lukewarm “reasonable” category.

The research backing the expansion of diagnoses was weak. Over all, only 5 percent of the positive recommendations were supported by research from multiple double-blind randomized studies, the gold standard of evidence-based medicine. And 58 percent were based on no studies at all, only a “consensus of expert opinion.” Of the 17 cardiologists who wrote the 2008 guidelines, 11 received financing from cardiac-device makers or worked at institutions receiving it. Seven, due to the extent of their financial connections, were recused from voting on the guidelines they helped write.

This pattern — a paucity of scientific support and a plethora of industry connections — holds across almost all cardiac treatments, according to the cardiologist Pierluigi Tricoci of Duke University’s Clinical Research Institute. Last year in The Journal of the American Medical Association, Tricoci and his co-authors wrote that only 11 percent of 2,700 widely used cardiac-treatment guidelines were based on that gold standard. Most were based only on expert opinion.

Experts are as vulnerable to conflicts of interest as researchers are, the authors warned, because “expert clinicians are also those who are likely to receive honoraria, speakers bureau [fees], consulting fees or research support from industry.” They called the current cardiac-research agenda “strongly influenced by industry’s natural desire to introduce new products.”

Perhaps it’s no surprise that I also discovered others puzzling over cardiologists who recommended pacemakers for relatives with advanced dementia. “78-year-old mother-in-law has dementia; severe short-term memory issues,” read an Internet post by “soninlaw” on Elderhope.com, a caregivers’ site, in 2007. “On a routine trip to her cardiologist, doctor decides she needs a pacemaker. . . . Anyone have a similar encounter?”

By the summer of 2007, my dad had forgotten the purpose of a dinner napkin and had to be coached to remove his slippers before he tried to put on his shoes. After a lifetime of promoting my father’s health, my mother reversed course. On a routine visit, she asked Rogan to deactivate the pacemaker. “It was hard,” she later told me. “I was doing for Jeff what I would have wanted Jeff to do for me.” Rogan soon made it clear he was morally opposed. “It would have been like putting a pillow over your father’s head,” he later told me.

Not long afterward, my mother declined additional medical tests and refused to put my father on a new anti-dementia drug and a blood thinner with troublesome side effects. “I take responsibility for whatever,” she wrote in her journal that summer. “Enough of all this overkill! It’s killing me! Talk about quality of life — what about mine?”

Then came the autumn day when she asked for my help, and I said yes. I told myself that we were simply trying to undo a terrible medical mistake. I reminded myself that my dad had rejected a pacemaker when his faculties were intact. I imagined, as a bioethicist had suggested, having a 15-minute conversation with my independent, predementia father in which I saw him shaking his head in horror over any further extension of what was not a “life,” but a prolonged and attenuated dying. None of it helped. I knew that once he died, I would dream of him and miss his mute, loving smiles. I wanted to melt into the arms of the father I once had and ask him to handle this. Instead, I felt as if I were signing on as his executioner and that I had no choice.

Over the next five months, my mother and I learned many things. We were told, by the Hemlock Society’s successor, Compassion and Choices, that as my father’s medical proxy, my mother had the legal right to ask for the withdrawal of any treatment and that the pacemaker was, in theory at least, a form of medical treatment. We learned that although my father’s living will requested no life support if he were comatose or dying, it said nothing about dementia and did not define a pacemaker as life support. We learned that if we called 911, emergency medical technicians would not honor my father’s do-not-resuscitate order unless he wore a state-issued orange hospital bracelet. We also learned that no cardiology association had given its members clear guidance on when, or whether, deactivating pacemakers was ethical.

(Last month that changed. The Heart Rhythm Society and the American Heart Association issued guidelines declaring that patients or their legal surrogates have the moral and legal right to request the withdrawal of any medical treatment, including an implanted cardiac device. It said that deactivating a pacemaker was neither euthanasia nor assisted suicide, and that a doctor could not be compelled to do so in violation of his moral values. In such cases, it continued, doctors “cannot abandon the patient but should involve a colleague who is willing to carry out the procedure.” This came, of course, too late for us.)

In the spring of 2008, things got even worse. My father took to roaring like a lion at his caregivers. At home in California, I searched the Internet for a sympathetic cardiologist and a caregiver to put my Dad to bed at night. My frayed mother began to shout at him, and their nighttime scenes were heartbreaking and frightening. An Alzheimer’s Association support-group leader suggested that my brothers and I fly out together and institutionalize my father. This leader did not know my mother’s formidable will and had never heard her speak about her wedding vows or her love.

Meanwhile my father drifted into what nurses call “the dwindles”: not sick enough to qualify for hospice care, but sick enough to never get better. He fell repeatedly at night and my mother could not pick him up. Finally, he was weak enough to qualify for palliative care, and a team of nurses and social workers visited the house. His chest grew wheezy. My mother did not request antibiotics. In mid-April 2008, he was taken by ambulance to Middlesex Hospital’s hospice wing, suffering from pneumonia.

Pneumonia was once called “the old man’s friend” for its promise of an easy death. That’s not what I saw when I flew in. On morphine, unreachable, his eyes shut, my beloved father was breathing as hard and regularly as a machine.

My mother sat holding his hand, weeping and begging for forgiveness for her impatience. She sat by him in agony. She beseeched his doctors and nurses to increase his morphine dose and to turn off the pacemaker. It was a weekend, and the doctor on call at Rogan’s cardiology practice refused authorization, saying that my father “might die immediately.” And so came five days of hard labor. My mother and I stayed by him in shifts, while his breathing became increasingly ragged and his feet slowly started to turn blue. I began drafting an appeal to the hospital ethics committee. My brothers flew in.

On a Tuesday afternoon, with my mother at his side, my father stopped breathing. A hospice nurse hung a blue light on the outside of his hospital door. Inside his chest, his pacemaker was still quietly pulsing.

After his memorial service in the Wesleyan University chapel, I carried a box from the crematory into the woods of an old convent where he and I often walked. It was late April, overcast and cold. By the side of a stream, I opened the box, scooped out a handful of ashes and threw them into the swirling water. There were some curious spiraled metal wires, perhaps the leads of his pacemaker, mixed with the white dust and pieces of bone.

A year later, I took my mother to meet a heart surgeon in a windowless treatment room at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. She was 84, with two leaking heart valves. Her cardiologist had recommended open-heart surgery, and I was hoping to find a less invasive approach. When the surgeon asked us why we were there, my mother said, “To ask questions.” She was no longer a trusting and deferential patient. Like me, she no longer saw doctors — perhaps with the exception of Fales — as healers or her fiduciaries. They were now skilled technicians with their own agendas. But I couldn’t help feeling that something precious — our old faith in a doctor’s calling, perhaps, or in a healing that is more than a financial transaction or a reflexive fixing of broken parts — had been lost.

The surgeon was forthright: without open-heart surgery, there was a 50-50 chance my mother would die within two years. If she survived the operation, she would probably live to be 90. And the risks? He shrugged. Months of recovery. A 5 percent chance of stroke. Some possibility, he acknowledged at my prompting, of postoperative cognitive decline. (More than half of heart-bypass patients suffer at least a 20 percent reduction in mental function.) My mother lifted her trouser leg to reveal an anklet of orange plastic: her do-not-resuscitate bracelet. The doctor recoiled. No, he would not operate with that bracelet in place. It would not be fair to his team. She would be revived if she collapsed. “If I have a stroke,” my mother said, nearly in tears, “I want you to let me go.” What about a minor stroke, he said — a little weakness on one side?

I kept my mouth shut. I was there to get her the information she needed and to support whatever decision she made. If she emerged from surgery intellectually damaged, I would bring her to a nursing home in California and try to care for her the way she had cared for my father at such cost to her own health. The thought terrified me.

The doctor sent her up a floor for an echocardiogram. A half-hour later, my mother came back to the waiting room and put on her black coat. “No,” she said brightly, with the clarity of purpose she had shown when she asked me to have the pacemaker deactivated. “I will not do it.”

She spent the spring and summer arranging house repairs, thinning out my father’s bookcases and throwing out the files he collected so lovingly for the book he never finished writing. She told someone that she didn’t want to leave a mess for her kids. Her chest pain worsened, and her breathlessness grew severe. “I’m aching to garden,” she wrote in her journal. “But so it goes. ACCEPT ACCEPT ACCEPT.”

Last August, she had a heart attack and returned home under hospice care. One evening a month later, another heart attack. One of my brothers followed her ambulance to the hospice wing where we had sat for days by my father’s bed. The next morning, she took off her silver earrings and told the nurses she wanted to stop eating and drinking, that she wanted to die and never go home. Death came to her an hour later, while my brother was on the phone to me in California — almost as mercifully as it had come to my paternal grandfather. She was continent and lucid to her end.

A week later, at the same crematory near Long Island Sound, my brothers and I watched through a plate-glass window as a cardboard box containing her body, dressed in a scarlet silk ao dai she had sewn herself, slid into the flames. The next day, the undertaker delivered a plastic box to the house where, for 45 of their 61 years together, my parents had loved and looked after each other, humanly and imperfectly. There were no bits of metal mixed with the fine white powder and the small pieces of her bones.

Katy Butler lives in Mill Valley, Calif., and teaches memoir writing at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur.

There were a lot of reasons to vote for Obama. And a lot of reasons to vote AGAINST Romney.

The idea of four years of lip smacking was way, way up there on that list.

How could he not have gotten some guidance on that? And the false smile? And the stiff posture? He needed to take some Alexander Technique classes.



>> ^charliem:

Simply cant stand how often he lip-smacks when talking. Makes me cringe every time he does it.

"Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech." Nixon (R - crook) opened China.

Isn't that what liberals want--"dialogue" with our enemies? Nixon also created the EPA. Pobody's nerfect. The 'crook' who had no knowledge of Watergate and never ordered it, but still stepped down, unlike Slick Willie the convicted felon. Nixon is a statesman by comparison to both Bubba AND Obozo.

"Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes." Bush II (R - derp) built the Homeland Security Department which helped the CIA cover up crimes of torture.

You mean the guy with higher test scores than Kerry? By international law tis only a crime to torture recognized enemy soldiers of an actual nation, not IED-laying sh1tbag terrorists. If it saves American lives, I'm for torturing every last one of them.

"Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, 'Suck this or lose your job'" Clarence Thomas (R- Koch Ind.) did.

Hearsay and bullshit, rebuked testimony, no charges filed. Nice try, though! Nothing brings out the racist in a liberal like a Black conservative, who by the way, is an intellectual giant compared to Obozo's recent affirmative action twins. Oh, and Thomas was never accused of rape like bubba.

I know pointing out facts won't deter qm, it's just fun to show him up as an ill informed redneck.

Facts? Where? Oh, was that your version of facts? You've failed in your mission. Utterly. I expected less--much less--from a liberal. And you delivered. Let me know when you want another keyboard beating.










>> ^Boise_Lib:

>> ^quantumushroom:
Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

"Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech." Nixon (R - crook) opened China.

"Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes." Bush II (R - derp) built the Homeland Security Department which helped the CIA cover up crimes of torture.
"Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, 'Suck this or lose your job'" Clarence Thomas (R- Koch Ind.) did.
I know pointing out facts won't deter qm, it's just fun to show him up as an ill informed redneck.

Not one of those things fucking matter. How about something that matters you coward? How about "Mitt never supported a Genocide by providing weapons to the perpetrators" or "Mitt never imposed sanctions killing at least 500,000 children and strengthening a dictator who used that power to harm his people even more."

It doesn't matter that Chinese missiles can now accurately target American cities, where before they were pieces of crap? It doesn't matter that a former president is a sociopath who treats women like chattel and dishonors his marriage? Don't worry, there's enough clinton filth to cover everything, including "anarchist" millionaire Chomsky's talking points.

Seriously I'm gonna start telling you this more and more, Do Your Fucking Homework. Because you don't know shit about history, you don't know shit about how the World Works, and you're completely blind to actually learning anything NEW.

The world has been in turmoil for thousands of years before Christ, and the absence of the United States would change very little in the affairs of tyrants and kings in other lands.

clinton's a dishonorable piece of shit. Case. Fucking. Closed.











>> ^Yogi:

>> ^quantumushroom:
Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

Not one of those things fucking matter. How about something that matters you coward? How about "Mitt never supported a Genocide by providing weapons to the perpetrators" or "Mitt never imposed sanctions killing at least 500,000 children and strengthening a dictator who used that power to harm his people even more."
Seriously I'm gonna start telling you this more and more, Do Your Fucking Homework. Because you don't know shit about history, you don't know shit about how the World Works, and you're completely blind to actually learning anything NEW.


>> ^Yogi:

>> ^quantumushroom:
Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

Not one of those things fucking matter. How about something that matters you coward? How about "Mitt never supported a Genocide by providing weapons to the perpetrators" or "Mitt never imposed sanctions killing at least 500,000 children and strengthening a dictator who used that power to harm his people even more."
Seriously I'm gonna start telling you this more and more, Do Your Fucking Homework. Because you don't know shit about history, you don't know shit about how the World Works, and you're completely blind to actually learning anything NEW.

Replace "Mitt" in all of your sentences with the word "horseradish" and all your statements would still be true.

>> ^quantumushroom:

Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

>> ^quantumushroom:

Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.


Not one of those things fucking matter. How about something that matters you coward? How about "Mitt never supported a Genocide by providing weapons to the perpetrators" or "Mitt never imposed sanctions killing at least 500,000 children and strengthening a dictator who used that power to harm his people even more."

Seriously I'm gonna start telling you this more and more, Do Your Fucking Homework. Because you don't know shit about history, you don't know shit about how the World Works, and you're completely blind to actually learning anything NEW.

>> ^quantumushroom:

Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

"Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech." Nixon (R - crook) opened China.


"Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes." Bush II (R - derp) built the Homeland Security Department which helped the CIA cover up crimes of torture.

"Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, 'Suck this or lose your job'" Clarence Thomas (R- Koch Ind.) did.

I know pointing out facts won't deter qm, it's just fun to show him up as an ill informed redneck.

Mitt never let our national security get so lax the red chinese swooped in and stole our missile guidance tech. Mitt didn't built bureaucratic walls between law enforcement agencies to hide his own crimes. Mitt didn't lie under oath, which for you and me would mean serious prison time. Mitt never cheated on his wife. Mitt was never disbarred and disgraced. Mitt didn't tell subordinate women, "Suck this or lose your job", and if Mitt did any of these things, he sure wouldn't have in-the-tank, subservient media shills covering his ass like they did this clown.

I honestly think scaring and humiliating kids isn't okay to do... but at the same time, I genuinely do think an experience like this one can *contribute* to getting someone back on the right track, or rather, helping them to put themselves on the right track. But it doesn't work in isolation, it also needs guidance, care, and positive re-enforcement. Nor do I think this kind of approach should be part of anyone's Plan A.

By your rhetorical suggestion: God created us with free will, then he created laws for us because following them is good for us and he loves us, then he said there would be consequences for not following those laws to encourage us to follow them because he loves us, then he determined that the consequences would be the worst possible thing that could happen, far worse than the real-life consequences for breaking the rules… because he loves us? It doesn’t add up. Don't give me some reductionist "let all rapists go free" argument. There's no way to explain the extreme severity of the consequences for breaking the law if the law itself was created so we would be better off. See?

In the beginning, God created Adam and Eve to be completely dependent on Him for everything. They relied upon God to make their decisions for them, and tell them what good and evil was. However, because He wanted His creatures to be free to love Him, ie just not just forced to obey Him, He gave them one command. That command was not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. He told them that in the day they ate of it they would surely die.

What lay in the fruit of that tree for Adam and Eve was their own autonomy. The fruit represented an independence from God to decide on their own what is good and evil. Rather than sitting at Gods feet and learning from Him, they would become a law onto themselves through their own judgment. What eating this fruit did was destroy their innocence forever. It ruined the perfect relationship and fellowship they had with God by turning them into rebels who would make choices apart from God.

So, rather than the law being given for the reasons you are saying, it was given to offer them a choice between obedience to God and personal autonomy. The consequences of breaking that law not only changed their nature but brought sin and death into the world. God draws the line at His standard for goodness, which is perfection. It is a zero tolerance policy for rebellion, not only for moral guidance, but to maintain order in His kingdom.

What’s wrong with robots? You said elsewhere it’s because god wouldn’t want robots. How can he want anything? He’s perfect. Does his own existence not satisfy him? Is he lacking something? Was he bored and lonely? Are we his pets?

God created not out of need, but out of the abundance of His love. He regards us as His offspring, not His pets.

Act 17:22-31

Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars' hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious.

For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.

God that made the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands;

Neither is worshipped with men's hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth to all life, and breath, and all things;

And hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation;

That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us:

For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.

Forasmuch then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and man's device.

And the times of this ignorance God winked at; but now commandeth all men every where to repent:

Because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead.

But he forgave us all our sins through the sacrifice of his son. Was that a compromise of his integrity? It seems he does choose to forgive us, at least once every 4000 years or so.

No, because He laid all of our sin on His Son, who bore the punishment we deserve. It is not a compromise of His integrity so long as the sin has been paid for.

Romans 4:25

He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification

You didn’t answer my questions. I know the stated purpose of sending Jesus. My question is why the situation required exactly that. Surely God, at some point, decided, "Well, they’re bad, and I want to get closer, and the exact thing required is for me to have a son, for that son to be a perfect human, for him to preach for three years and then get executed by the other humans, and then we can be closer." God decided something like that. It’s a direct implication of saying that God created everything and that this was necessary.

Jesus was the lamb slain before the foundation of the world.

Rev 13:8 And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him, whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Before the world began, God knew that He would need to send His Son.

If you want to know more about what it means in the image of God, read this:

http://www.gotquestions.org/image-of-God.html

It told me almost nothing. It says that the definition of "the image of God" is everything that makes us different from other animals, and everything intangible about us, as if that’s what God looks like. It compared naming pets and enjoying music to being God. Weird.

Because being in the image of God isn't about what God looks like, it is about being imbued with His personal attributes. We resemble Him in our better nature, not our appearance.

What I’m getting at is the arbitrariness of the consequences and why God would have created such random consequences. Look at them with a critical eye, if you can: Adam and Eve committed one sin, and for that their nature was changed forever, and that of their descendents forever, and they lost paradise. For one sin? You believe that God created such a heavy consequence for the first offence ever committed by innocent people – and people without "knowledge" mind you, because they hadn’t eaten the fruit yet. I cannot.

I understand what you're saying. You're not going to see the picture before you connect all of the dots. I'll keep supplying you the dots as I am able. I think I explained this particular question to you in more specific detail this time around, as to why the separation occurred.

God got to enjoy his creation for about 45 minutes before it screwed itself up, and from then on we’ve been a disappointment to him. Yet, as you’ve stated elsewhere, God created us for his pleasure. He knew what would happen, so he screwed up. He couldn’t even create himself a pleasing race of pets. Dogs have free will, understand good and bad, and are extremely pleasing as companions. Why couldn’t God create as good for himself as he did for humans? The whole story doesn’t hold water.

He knew before He created that His creation would rebel at some point, and He took the necessary steps to reconcile it back to Himself at the end of time. He didn't screw up, but He did create beings capable of screwing up. To allow for the real possibility of good, He also had to allow for the real possibility of evil.

But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.

That's a defence mechanism against whatever the opposite of apologia is. Reason, maybe.

Or it's absolutely true.

The only consistent model is that God himself created sin and evil by creating the laws, because if he hadn't created the laws, there would be no sin or evil in the world. This understanding is consistent with your statement A and in spirit with C, if you understand C to mean, "We created evil by breaking his law".

Sorry, I should have clarified this a lot more. When scripture says "the law" what it is reffering to is the Mosaic law that was given at Mt Sinai. This law was given because of sin, and sin was already in the world at that time. This really goes back to the beginning with what I described earlier. What we had in the beginning was not a law, but simply a choice. It was given not to keep us from evil but to give us freedom to choose to obey Gods will. You can't freely obey someone if you don't have a choice not to do it. You can't love someone without the choice not to love. The law came into play after all of this, and that is a whole other discussion.

>> ^messenger:

stuff

Below is the parable of the ox: (http://www.johnkay.com/2012/07/25/the-parable-of-the-ox)

Though it is about our economies in general, it also says something between the lines about markets without guidance. Namely that in ANY market, given enough time, you will get people who "abuse" the lack of rules and change the game in their favor. (Libor, credit default swaps, monopolies, etc etc) As free market policies work only when there is plenty of competition, as soon as some one cheats or in another form effectively removes competition the entire thing will collapse. Free market policies can be optimal during a time, however, that time is limited as before (just started market, monopoly or wild west) and after (mature market, few or 1 large competitors ruling the market, monopoly) you need guidance to make sure all the stakeholders are protected, not just those with power.

(BTW though there are rules setup to make sure the system works, you can see those are reactionary because otherwise the system doesnt work at all. They make sure there are good options for everyone, not just maximum options for those with power, aka in this case the cheaters)

25 July 2012, Financial Times

In 1906, the great statistician Francis Galton observed a competition to guess the weight of an ox at a country fair. Eight hundred people entered. Galton, being the kind of man he was, ran statistical tests on the numbers. He discovered that the average guess (1,197lb) was extremely close to the actual weight (1,198lb) of the ox. This story was told by James Surowiecki, in his entertaining book The Wisdom of Crowds.

Not many people know the events that followed. A few years later, the scales seemed to become less and less reliable. Repairs were expensive; but the fair organiser had a brilliant idea. Since attendees were so good at guessing the weight of an ox, it was unnecessary to repair the scales. The organiser would simply ask everyone to guess the weight, and take the average of their estimates.

A new problem emerged, however. Once weight-guessing competitions became the rage, some participants tried to cheat. They even sought privileged information from the farmer who had bred the ox. It was feared that if some people had an edge, others would be reluctant to enter the weight-guessing competition. With only a few entrants, you could not rely on the wisdom of the crowd. The process of weight discovery would be damaged.

Strict regulatory rules were introduced. The farmer was asked to prepare three monthly bulletins on the development of his ox. These bulletins were posted on the door of the market for everyone to read. If the farmer gave his friends any other information about the beast, that was also to be posted on the market door. Anyone who entered the competition with knowledge concerning the ox that was not available to the world at large would be expelled from the market. In this way, the integrity of the weight-guessing process would be maintained.

Professional analysts scrutinised the contents of these regulatory announcements and advised their clients on their implications. They wined and dined farmers; once the farmers were required to be careful about the information they disclosed, however, these lunches became less fruitful.

Some brighter analysts realised that understanding the nutrition and health of the ox was not that useful anyway. What mattered were the guesses of the bystanders. Since the beast was no longer being weighed, the key to success lay not in correctly assessing its weight, but rather in correctly assessing what other people would guess. Or what others would guess others would guess. And so on.

Some, such as old Farmer Buffett, claimed that the results of this process were more and more divorced from the realities of ox-rearing. He was ignored, however. True, Farmer Buffett’s beasts did appear healthy and well fed, and his finances were ever more prosperous: but, it was agreed, he was a simple countryman who did not really understand how markets work.

International bodies were established to define the rules for assessing the weight of the ox. There were two competing standards – generally accepted ox-weighing principles and international ox-weighing standards. However, both agreed on one fundamental principle, which followed from the need to eliminate the role of subjective assessment by any individual. The weight of the ox was officially defined as the average of everyone’s guesses.

One difficulty was that sometimes there were few, or even no, guesses of the oxen’s weight. But that problem was soon overcome. Mathematicians from the University of Chicago developed models from which it was possible to estimate what, if there had actually been many guesses as to the weight of the animal, the average of these guesses would have been. No knowledge of animal husbandry was required, only a powerful computer.

By this time, there was a large industry of professional weight guessers, organisers of weight- guessing competitions and advisers helping people to refine their guesses. Some people suggested that it might be cheaper to repair the scales, but they were derided: why go back to relying on the judgment of a single auctioneer when you could benefit from the aggregated wisdom of so many clever people?

And then the ox died. Among all this activity, no one had remembered to feed it.

The thing was an hour long, and believe it or not, I've seen lots of TV shows of people giving their stories of wacky supernatural/mystical things that happened to them, and I was pretty sure seeing one more wouldn't tip the balance, just like watching another Donald Trump stump speech would lead me to think Obama wasn't born in Hawaii. My first comment was about what you had said about God having patience. My second comment was about my own theory of the link between mental trauma and mystical experience. Neither required me to spend an hour watching it. I'm sure you're probably sick of people lumping you in with all the crazy religious people we see in the world, so why do it to me? I mentioned that I hadn't watched it just in case my prediction was wrong (seems it might have been -- still haven't watched it), in which case you could ignore it or politely tell me so.

The reason young people and atheists (I'm not young, BTW) might not be interested in seeing a show like this is that it's utterly unreliable. Young people in the West are more skilled in critical thinking today than ever before, and atheists are a self-selecting group of people who require reliable evidence for things. To both groups, an anecdotal testimony recreation on TV is one of the least reliable sources of evidence. Your story, SB, as you've presented it here, is more credible than this one, and I've spent many, many hours reading, thinking and commenting about it, so cut me a little slack, will ya? No promises, but I do now intend to watch it all and comment at some time. Relatively busy the next several weeks

Sorry to lump you in, and yes I do understand that time is fleeting. I am not exactly jazzed to watch many of the videos I see here on the sift, but I will if there is potential for a good conversation. It's just a frustration that I encounter that many people are unwilling to consider what you're saying, or indeed even read it. It's probably just a cultural thing. I think more and more people have ADD and we are programmed in the culture to need instant gratification. In any case, I do not say you are like that. You have engaged me and considered what I have said, if not only to falsify it, but that's okay. I have enjoyed our conversations.

I'm not operating in any way towards any god. I don't believe in them, remember? Your specific God cannot exist as described, and I am so sceptical of any other gods that I live as if they don't exist either. You are operating under the faulty premise that I will accept something other than empirical evidence as the foundation of anything I believe. What makes you think I (or any other sceptic) would suddenly change my approach now, when it comes to arguably the single most important fact of my existence? Why would I lower the bar of acceptable evidence when the stakes are the highest? Even if I took a "just-in-case" approach, and did all the things the Bible said, I wouldn't believe in any of the things I was doing. In fact, as I consider that Christianity would make me a worse person, it would be selfish of me to choose to definitely hurt people on the off chance it might save my hide.

I agree that my God, as you currently understand Him, could not exist. Neither am I expecting you to lower your standards; I am only asking you to consider the issue rationally. If God exists, the entire Universe is empirical evidence of His existence. Is this not the case? So logically, trying to find empirical evidence of God is as easy as looking outside, or in a mirror. You happen to think its plausible that this is all happenstance, which I think requires quite a bit more faith than belief in a supernatural creation. I am sure you will disagree because you're a materialist, but your material had to come from somewhere. The main point is, trying to test for God is a fairly absurd idea. How would you do that?

I don't think you should take a "just in case" approach either. Becoming a Christian for fire insurance and nothing else is almost never a genuine conversion. You need to be born again, which is a supernatural transformation of your entire being. Anything short of that and you have no salvation.

When I was a young teen, and I was losing my faith (which had been absolute as a child). It was a bit distressing, and I used to pray that fairly often. I got no answer, and eventually forgot about God. I've always been interested in the concept of faith, but I've never again believed.

This happens to quite a number of catholics. The reason being, catholicism is very nearly a pagan religion, and it's an actual miracle if any Catholics do find God. There are more than a few that are saved, but I wouldn't hazard a guess as to percentages. Only God knows their hearts.

I am. And for me, truth is borne out by empirical evidence and personal experience, not preachers, or ancient fantasy books of dubious origin. I see exactly zero evidence for God. It's not even an interesting theory for me because it only explains, and doesn't predict.

God predicts the future. That's part of what makes the bible credible, is the literal fulfillment of prophecy. The nation of israel, for example, being reformed after 2000 years was predicted by prophecy. Such a thing has never happened before, that a people retained their racial purity and cultural heritage after being scattered all over the world, and then brought back to the same spot to form their own country again. The destruction of Jerusalem was also predicted in advance. As was the coming of the Messiah. There are many of these.

If God makes a box, he doesn't have to live inside the box. He can be eternal, but the word "eternal" itself is bound in time. Maybe you meant "omnipresent?" I'm particular about definitions.

He is omnipresent, yes. Eternal is timelessness..what it means to have no beginning and no ending.

OK. I've done it. I've put my money where my mouth is, and I actually got on my knees next to the computer, put my hands together, and prayed for God to reveal himself. I also told him that I was more interested in truth than in comfort, and if he revealed himself to be true, that I would use his guidance to find and follow the best path I could take in life. I used no biblical terms like "saviour" or "lord" because this is about me and God. If he wants to lead me to the Bible, he can do that. I asked him to be clear -- a double rainbow won't cut it. I was sincere. Any predictions?

My prediction is that God will honor your prayer if you are sincere in your desire to know Him, and the truth about Him. I think He will probably test the genuineness of your prayer. To God, talk is cheap. Anyone can say those words, but only those who mean them will find Him. He may offer you a choice that requires you to soften your heart and do something you wouldn't normally do. So be aware of that in the days to come. If you want my ultimate prediction, I believe that He will save you. God bless.

@shinyblurry

Fair enough about NDEs not being direct evidence of God.

That's fairly typical, I have to say.

The thing was an hour long, and believe it or not, I've seen lots of TV shows of people giving their stories of wacky supernatural/mystical things that happened to them, and I was pretty sure seeing one more wouldn't tip the balance, just like watching another Donald Trump stump speech would lead me to think Obama wasn't born in Hawaii. My first comment was about what you had said about God having patience. My second comment was about my own theory of the link between mental trauma and mystical experience. Neither required me to spend an hour watching it. I'm sure you're probably sick of people lumping you in with all the crazy religious people we see in the world, so why do it to me? I mentioned that I hadn't watched it just in case my prediction was wrong (seems it might have been -- still haven't watched it), in which case you could ignore it or politely tell me so.

The reason young people and atheists (I'm not young, BTW) might not be interested in seeing a show like this is that it's utterly unreliable. Young people in the West are more skilled in critical thinking today than ever before, and atheists are a self-selecting group of people who require reliable evidence for things. To both groups, an anecdotal testimony recreation on TV is one of the least reliable sources of evidence. Your story, SB, as you've presented it here, is more credible than this one, and I've spent many, many hours reading, thinking and commenting about it, so cut me a little slack, will ya? No promises, but I do now intend to watch it all and comment at some time. Relatively busy the next several weeks.

You are still operating under the faulty premise that you could suss God out by pointing an instrument at Him.

I'm not operating in any way towards any god. I don't believe in them, remember? Your specific God cannot exist as described, and I am so sceptical of any other gods that I live as if they don't exist either. You are operating under the faulty premise that I will accept something other than empirical evidence as the foundation of anything I believe. What makes you think I (or any other sceptic) would suddenly change my approach now, when it comes to arguably the single most important fact of my existence? Why would I lower the bar of acceptable evidence when the stakes are the highest? Even if I took a "just-in-case" approach, and did all the things the Bible said, I wouldn't believe in any of the things I was doing. In fact, as I consider that Christianity would make me a worse person, it would be selfish of me to choose to definitely hurt people on the off chance it might save my hide.

Yet, you refuse to do the one thing which would yield any results. You could pray this prayer, for instance:

"God, I don't know if you're there or not. If you are there, I want to know you. Please let me know you are real and I will give my life to you. Please come into my life as Lord and Savior."

When I was a young teen, and I was losing my faith (which had been absolute as a child). It was a bit distressing, and I used to pray that fairly often. I got no answer, and eventually forgot about God. I've always been interested in the concept of faith, but I've never again believed.

Are you interested in the truth?

I am. And for me, truth is borne out by empirical evidence and personal experience, not preachers, or ancient fantasy books of dubious origin. I see exactly zero evidence for God. It's not even an interesting theory for me because it only explains, and doesn't predict.

God necessarily exists outside of time and space because He created them. Since He is eternal He is not bound by time. However, that isn't to say that what is happening "now" isn't real.

If God makes a box, he doesn't have to live inside the box. He can be eternal, but the word "eternal" itself is bound in time. Maybe you meant "omnipresent?" I'm particular about definitions.

OK. I've done it. I've put my money where my mouth is, and I actually got on my knees next to the computer, put my hands together, and prayed for God to reveal himself. I also told him that I was more interested in truth than in comfort, and if he revealed himself to be true, that I would use his guidance to find and follow the best path I could take in life. I used no biblical terms like "saviour" or "lord" because this is about me and God. If he wants to lead me to the Bible, he can do that. I asked him to be clear -- a double rainbow won't cut it. I was sincere. Any predictions?

If we're using terms like "tangible evidence", then I assume we're talking in scientific terms. If we're talking scientifically, then you need phenomena, a theory to explain them, and ways of testing that theory. "I would say..." isn't a scientific statement. What qualifies as "tangible evidence" has to be easily understood and agreed upon by everyone. If people don't agree that something is evidence of something, then it's meaningless. Like, if I suggest that graphite pencils are electric insulators, and you say that's bollocks, we can create an electric curcuit with a light bulb. We both agree that if the light bulb turns on when the electric circuit passes through a graphite pencil, then it's definitely not an insulator, regardless of our initial positions. So if the world at large doesn't agree that NDEs are necessarily evidence of God, then it's a meaningless argument. When you theorize God, it doesn't flow logically that when people are near death that they will necessarily see God. You can look at evidence and say, "This fits in with a theory of God." That's fair, but calling it evidence is not scientific. NDEs also fit with my theory that people seek ultimate authority the the worse and worse their living conditions are. I don't claim that it's evidence that I'm right, just that it supports or "fits" my theory. In other words, it proves nothing at all.

I confess I didn't watch the whole thing (I guessed where it was going once it trailed away from logical enquiry, and so far I haven't heard any surprises -- if there's anything new and interesting in this particular story, lemme know where and I'll watch).

About the mother praying at that moment. It's possible that there is some connection between mother and child that hasn't been properly measured, that only occurs when children are under extreme stress, and even then, only in rare cases (most mothers don't report "knowing" their children were suffering or dying when they hear the news later). That doesn't require Yahweh, or even any God. It's just a phenomenon that we don't know about. And again, "We can't explain it," isn't evidence of God any more than fully explaining the phenomenon is proof that God is fake.

If you cannot provide a test whose conclusion we both agree on for God's existence, then by scientific definition, you have no theory at all. When I press you, the only test you provide is me givnig myself fully to God, and the proof will be that he will contact me eventually if I do it well enough. There's so many loopholes in that to begin with, that no matter how long I did it without result, you'd be able to say why it didn't work. Also, even if it did have a result, I wouldn't agree that the result is proof of God. My theory is that if someone wants to believe something hard enough, and if they bend their will to believing it, they can come to beleive anything they want. It's widely dismissed as "self-delusion" or "choosing to live in a fantasy world" if you're talking about anything other than religoius faith. Some, including myself, also include religious faith in that category. No matter how real it seems, if you convinced yourself of it, that's a good reason to believe you might be deluded. Bottom line, there's no test that we generally agree on, so there's no theory, just your faith that it's true.

About the mother again. All of that could have been wishful thinking/guilty conscience. Mothers often feel guilty when horrible things happen to their children, and one way of "making up for it" in their own minds (or socially) is to tell themselves (or others) that they were suffering too at the same time, and even at a distance were praying for God to intercede.

So I can't explain what happened, but I can provide two decent theories that don't require God.

I'm not sure why, but to people of faith, there seems to be a fear that everything unexplained, if not explained by their God, is somehow a strike against him. That's not at all how science or logic work. There is no phenomenon that requires God to be responsible for it, except the ones he is specifically described as having done himself in the Bible. There's nothing in the Bible that says people's experiences when suffering extreme mental trauma must be caused by God. If they're explained some other way, your theory of God stands just as strong as before. It's when you go attributing everything that YOU don't understand to God's hand that you get yourself into trouble because when those things are later objectively explained another way then you have to change your story. Better to think critically from the begining, and say with authority what God definitely is and isn't, and what God definitely is and isn't responsible for. Then, if any single one of those things is disproven, then you can simply agree that your description of God is wrong.

You missed my comment above about God and patience. You've said elsewhere that God lives outside time, and looks at the history of the universe like a movie that he can browse and interfere in at will. But then you also say that he has "patience" which can "wear out". "Patience", by definition, means being forced to wait, and "wearing out" means eroding in time, both of which requrie living in time. These two ideas of God both living outside of time and having patience which wears out, if words have meaning, are incompatible. They cannot both be true. If you continue to hold to both of those claims about your God, then that's proof that he doesn't exist as you describe him.>> ^shinyblurry:

>> ^messenger:
Yet another example of a numinous experience caused by severe mental trauma. This is exactly what I theorise happened to you, as I mentioned in one of our previous conversations. This lends some support to it. We are genetically predisposed to seek guidance from authority figures, and the worse our condition, the more we seek it out. Being at death's door is the weakest condition possible, and add to that mental trauma, and the brain makes up whatever idea it needs to survive at that moment, and it seems real.
Also, if God wants us to know him so bad, why does he have to attack us with jellyfish first? He can either let us know outright he's there, or leave us a few clues and hope we put the pieces together ourselves. There's no need for torture.

If it's a numinous experience, how do you explain his mother interceding for him in prayer at the exact moment all of this is taking place?
God doesn't have to attack you with jellyfish, but he will use some means like that to get your attention if you continue to fail to respond to the 100 other ways He tried to reach you. Most often, men are so prideful and stubborn that it takes a full realization of their mortality, or a hitting of rock bottom, for them to realize how much they need God. When you're young and healthy, you feel so strong and self-assured, but it's an illusion..you are at the mercy of forces you don't understand each and every moment of each and every day. Life is fragile, but arrogance lends a false sense of security. They think they don't need Him, that they're getting along just fine on their own. It's only because they don't realize they are a heartbeat away from deaths door, and its only His mercy that keeps them there.

>> ^messenger:

Yet another example of a numinous experience caused by severe mental trauma. This is exactly what I theorise happened to you, as I mentioned in one of our previous conversations. This lends some support to it. We are genetically predisposed to seek guidance from authority figures, and the worse our condition, the more we seek it out. Being at death's door is the weakest condition possible, and add to that mental trauma, and the brain makes up whatever idea it needs to survive at that moment, and it seems real.
Also, if God wants us to know him so bad, why does he have to attack us with jellyfish first? He can either let us know outright he's there, or leave us a few clues and hope we put the pieces together ourselves. There's no need for torture.


If it's a numinous experience, how do you explain his mother interceding for him in prayer at the exact moment all of this is taking place?

God doesn't have to attack you with jellyfish, but he will use some means like that to get your attention if you continue to fail to respond to the 100 other ways He tried to reach you. Most often, men are so prideful and stubborn that it takes a full realization of their mortality, or a hitting of rock bottom, for them to realize how much they need God. When you're young and healthy, you feel so strong and self-assured, but it's an illusion..you are at the mercy of forces you don't understand each and every moment of each and every day. Life is fragile, but arrogance lends a false sense of security. They think they don't need Him, that they're getting along just fine on their own. It's only because they don't realize they are a heartbeat away from deaths door, and its only His mercy that keeps them there.