Dogs and kangaroos are one of the few interspecies mixes that can sustain a pregnancy through to viable young of a normal lifespan. (Tigers and Lions are another, the most famous mix perhaps.) I was fortunate to work in the lab with a very sweet dogaroo for three years in the late nineties.

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.

I am very curious on the need for coal consumption. It could just be my area - Up here in Canada, we use Hydro Electricity. Coal just seems like such a third world product. It's dirty, anti-envomental, toxic and shortens the lifespans of all who mine it.

Sure it gives people jobs, but given the choice between a longer lifespan and backbreaking labour and a shortened lifespan you would think they would be moving away from coal if possible.

And WTF is "clean coal?"

Before any quotes, I'll give my own overarching point: Life without a higher purpose may be ultimately meaningless (I'll get more into what sense I mean), and that makes life more difficult than if there were ultimate meaning, but that has no bearing whatsoever on the truth value of the existence of Yahweh. You cannot derive Yahweh's existence (or any deity or pantheon) from your claim that life is easier that way. [Edit: Turns out I never actually get to that conclusion in my comments below, so you might as well address it here, but after you've read the rest.]

The point was never that a meaningless Universe makes life more difficult; you simply decided that was the point. The point the video makes, and which I have also been making, is that you are suffering from cognitive dissonance by having no ultimate justification for your value system, but living as if you do. You admit that under atheism the Universe is meaningless, and so we've been debating on whether you can find any justification for a value system in a meaningless Universe. The explanation you have ultimately given me is that you believe there is a right and wrong, and people do have value, because you feel it. Do you realize this proves what I have been saying all along?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance

Cognitive dissonance is the term used in modern psychology to describe the state of holding two or more conflicting cognitions (e.g., ideas, beliefs, values, emotional reactions) simultaneously.

Your atheism tells you that life without God is meaningless. Your feelings tell you that life is meaningful. These are two conflicting cognitions. Instead of realizing that and re-evaluating your atheism, you say that you don't know why and you don't care. That is the very definition of cognitive dissonance.

But the fact is that somehow, in the context of my own little 80-year microblip in the lifespan of our planet, I do care. I just do. I have nothing more than a pet theory about why I care. I care, and I care a lot. I suppose I'm somewhat curious as to why I care, but it's not of primary importance for me to know. I just do, and it's pleasing to notice that just about everyone else around me does too. The only question for me is how to follow this desire of mine to be good given my circumstances.

The facts are simple: the existence of God explains everything that you feel about wanting to do good, and the love that you have for people and life, and your atheism denies it. Yet you embrace what is contrary to your own experience.

And why should I reject being a slave to chemicals? The chemicals MAKE ME FEEL GOOD, remember? Should I purposefully do things that make me feel bad? Why on Earth would I even consider it? Ridiculous.

So if it makes you feel good its okay to be a slave? You don't mind being enslaved to a mindless irrational process because you get rewarded for it like a rat activating a feeder?

I reject the description that I live my life "as a Christian does", as if Christians invented or have some original claim being good. All humans, regardless of faith or lack thereof, believe in the value of humans (or, any societies that don't value humans go extinct very quickly). We all generally shun murder and violence, foster mutual care, enjoy one another's company, feel protective, have a soft spot for babies and so forth, and have been doing all of this as a species since before Christianity began.

So I would turn it around and say instead that it's Christians who go about their lives living like normal humans, but thinking they're being good because their religion tells them to.

Most people in this world (around 85 - 90 percent) are theists. If we are going to talk about universal belief in this world then it is theism which is normal. That is historically where our morality comes from. Everyone who believes in God has an ultimate justification for right and wrong, but atheists do not. So I will modify this and say that you're living like a theist does but denying it with your atheism.

I can claim that I have a stronger sense of what's right and wrong than the psychopath simply because they are defined as lacking that sense (or, perhaps non-psychopaths are defined as people having that sense). And you're right that I do not claim that my way of determining which actions are appropriate is inherently superior to the psychopath's. As it happens, my way of determining morality puts me among the overwhelming majority, and so it's relatively easy for me to mitigate the negative impacts of people like that by identifying and avoiding them. I don't say that my way should be preferred to the pshychopath's; I just notice that it is, and I'm grateful for that, and for the fact that psychopathy is not a choice.

Actually, psychopaths do know right from wrong, but they don't care.

In any case, what you're saying here contradicts your later claim that my hypothetical about a society approving of child rape is ridiculous, and proves my point. You admit here that you couldn't say that your way of morality is superior to psychopathy, it just so happens that there are more of you than there are of them. You name that as the reason why your way should be preferred. Therefore what you're talking about is a herd morality.

Now think about if the situation were reversed and psychopaths were in the majority. Your version of morality would no longer be preferred, and psychopaths would no longer need to conform to your standards; you would need to conform to theirs. Whatever was normalized in a psychopathic society would be what was called good and whatever the psychopathic society rejected would be called evil. This is proof that everything I said was true. The entire point of my example was to show that if we simply have a herd morality where the majority tells us what is good and evil, then if the majority ever said child rape is good it would be. This is simply a fact. Whether you think it could happen or not is relevent to the point.

You're drowning in a sea of relativism, where a justifies b and b justifies c and c justifies d, and this goes into an infinite regress.

I'm not sure what you're talking about. Can you give an example of a justification to infinite regression that would cause some kind of problem unique to non-thesitic morality?

I'll get to this later.

I don't accept that it's any more natural to worship Yahweh than some other deity or pantheon or idol, and I can't imagine how you could justify such a position without referring to dogma. Ask a Muslim. He'll tell you with the same conviction that Allah is the natural way and show you his own dogma. 100 years ago, a Japanese would have told you it was natural to worship the Emperor, and today he'd say it's natural to worship ancestors. My point is that any worship will satisfy our natural urge to worship, which is why almost all people worship something, and the object of worship you're brought up around is the one you're most likely to be comfortable with worshipping, naturally.

The reason I said this was in reply to your assertion that we developed religion because it answered questions and made us feel comfortable. My point was that we all come pre-programmed with a need for worship, which you apparently agree with. That is what is natural to us. It has nothing to do with whether it is more or less natural to worship Jesus. It is actually more natural for us to rebel against God because of our corrupt nature. It's only through personal revelation that we direct our worship in the right direction.

People don't naturally conclude life is meaningless; they know from their experience that it is very meaningful. They are taught it is meaningless through philosophy and the ennui that comes from modern life. You will never find a population of natural atheists anywhere on the planet.

The problem —and one that I fell into myself— is the conflation of two senses of the word "meaningless". For example, I can say without conflict that the planet and humanity is doomed and so forth, so our actions are ultimately meaningless, AND that interacting with people gives meaning to my life. Now, in the first sense, I mean there's no teleological purpose to my life. In the second sense, I mean certain people and things in my life give fulfillment/bliss.

The sense we agreed upon and have been discussing is that that life without God is meaningless. In this sense, it is still equally meaningless whether human civilization implodes or doesn't implode. Therefore the meaning you derive from your feelings is only an illusion created by chemical reactions in your brain.

Your anecdotal evidence about depression doesn't make you an authority on *the single cause* of depression. Some depressives follow your pattern, and others don't. I don't. When I'm depressed, my feeling isn't hopelessness. In fact, these days, I'm feeling rather hopeless, but I'm not depressed.

You can feel hopeless and not be depressed, but the source of the depression is almost always hopelessness. I'll give you some examples. If you put all of the worlds depressed people in a very large room, and gave each of them a check for 10 million dollars, you will have instantly cured around 80 percent of them. The majority of depression comes being stuck in a bad situation that you don't feel like you can change, situations that cause a lot of stress and unhappiness. A lot of money buys a lot of change. Many of the rest are probably depressed because of health issues, and if you could offer them a cure (hope), they would be cured as well. The remainder are probably depressed because of extreme neurosis. There are other causes of depression but you see my point. Hope is the solution to depression.

It's not my hope. I believe that dead is dead. Much simpler than your belief. Much more likely too. You're implying that I'm following some faulty reasoning about the afterlife. Among the things I don't know are an *infinite number of possibilities* of what could happen in the afterlife, one of which is your bible story. My best guess is nothing. Since nobody's ever come back from the dead to talk about it (Did nobody interview Lazarus? What a great opportunity missed!), nobody knows, so there's no reason to speculate about it ever. Your book says whatever it says, and I don't care because to me it's fairy tales. I'd have to be an idiot to live my life differently because of a book I didn't first believe in. Just like you'd be an idiot to live like a non-believer if you believe so much in Yahweh.

On what basis do you say your belief is more likely?

Someone has come back from the dead to talk about it: Jesus Christ. You don't have to believe the bible; you can ask Him yourself. You say there is no reason to speculate (ever); now that is an interesting statement from someone who believes in open inquiry. What you've said is actually the death of inquiry. And let's be clear about this; you have speculated. You are basing your conclusion on no evidence but merely your atheistic presuppositions about reality. You say no one has come back but one man has, but of course you dismiss the account as fantasy (again because of your atheistic presuppositions).

I would also ask how you think the brain understands the complex moral scenarios we find ourselves in and rewards or doesn't reward accordingly? Doesn't that seem fairly implausible to you?

It's quite plausible. I'm no biologist, but I'm sure there's a branch of evolutionary biology that deals with social feelings. My own pet theory is that these feelings are comparable to the ones that control the behaviour of all communal forms of life, like ants and zebras and red-winged blackbirds. It's evolution, either way, IMO.

Of course anything is possible when you summon your magic genie of evolution. "Time itself performs the miracles for you."

What makes someone a bad person?

In the absolute sense, religious faith, only, can bring that kind of judgement as a meaningful label.

In the relative sense where I would colloquially refer to someone as "a bad person" (my prime minister, Stephen Harper is an example), I mean someone who has shown they are sufficiently disruptive to other people's happiness due to acting too much in their own self-interest that they're best removed from influence and then avoided. But I would only use that term as a shorthand among people who knew that I don't moralize absolutely.

So no one is really bad?

Do you think this could have something to do with the fact that the bible says you should do things you don't want to do, or that you should stop doing things you don't want to stop doing?

An interesting question, but no. I don't believe it because everything I see points all religion being a human invention.

Well, I'm fairly sure you've told me before that you hate the idea of God telling you what to do.

Your hypothetical is an appeal to the ridiculous. It simply is a fact that just about everyone —including child rapists, I'm guessing— believes that child rape is wrong for the simple reason that it severely hurts children. If it increases a person's suffering, then it's wrong. I can think of nothing simpler. Your hypothetical is like one where a passage in the bible prescribed child rape. Would it be OK then? Does the bible that say that rape is wrong? Does it say you cannot marry a child?

I've covered this above, but I will also add that if we had evolved differently, then in your worldview, all of this would be moot. We are only in this particular configuration because of circumstance, and not design. It could just as easily be 1000 different other ways. There could easily be scenarios where we evolved to exploit children instead of nuture them.

In both cases, you didn't address my point. 1) I'm stating that Yahweh's laws are far, far more complex than secular morality. You countered that Yahweh's laws were as simple as Jesus' two rules. I showed that was wrong with my AIDS in Africa example (condoms saving lives). You can address that, or you can agree that Yahweh's laws are more complex that Harris' model of secular morality.

I hope I don't need to point out that the bible says nothing about condoms. Gods morality is really as simple as the two greatest commandments because if you follow those you will follow all the rest:

Romans 13:9-10

The commandments, "Do not commit adultery," "Do not murder," "Do not steal," "Do not covet," and whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.

When you love your neighbor and love God you are basically doing the whole law right there. There are some particulars that can emerge in different situations just like we have laws for different situations, and so Harris would have to accommodate those as well.

2) I also pointed out that Jesus gave us a moral model that requires the individual to determine for themselves based on fixed criteria what's good and what's not. "… as you would have your neighbour do unto you…" implicitly requires the individual to compare their actions with what they themselves would want someone else to do to them. That means relying on their own understanding. This contradicts your other statements that we shouldn't rely on our own understanding. You see? To follow Jesus' second law, you must rely on your own understanding.

Yes, in this case we would rely on our own understanding, as informed by the biblical worldview. What scripture is saying when it says "lean not on your own understanding" is that we make God the Lord of our reasoning. So, when we think about doing unto others, we would think about it in the context of how Jesus taught us to behave.

[you:]What about all of Pagan societies throughout the ages that sacrificed their children to demons?

You're making my point for me. Paganism is religion. Non-believers would never justify a habit of killing their own children.

Yes they would:

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,880,00.html

So your answer is yes? You think that without religion, society may decide torturing babies is good because it decided that killing Jews was good?

[me:]If you think I’m being ridiculous, what do you think is more likely: that a society somewhere will suddenly realize that they feel just fine about torturing babies, or that a society somewhere will get the idea that it’s their god’s will that they torture babies? Human instinct is much more consistent than the will of any gods ever recorded.

Yes, I think an entire society could end up agreeing on something that depraved, just like the ancient Greek society approved of paedophilia. You also act as if I am trying to defend all religion, which I'm not. There are plenty of sick and depraved religions out there, and religions can easily corrupt a culture, like islam has done to the Arab culture.

In any case, there are many examples of non-believing societies doing sick and depraved things to their populations. Millions of Christians were murdered by communists in the 1940's and 50's. I highly recommend you read this book:

http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&sqi=2&ved=0CB8QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gracealoneca.com%2Fsitebuildercontent%2Fsitebu
ilderfiles%2Ftortured_for_christ.pdf&ei=PSNiUIyTCsPqiwLYtYGQCw&usg=AFQjCNG-ro4rM7dfvFCkgIvjnmgdhQnSPA&cad=rja

The fact is, in a meaningless Universe you simply can't prove anything without God. You actually have no basis for logic, rationality, morality, uniformity in nature, but you live as if you do. If I ask you how you know your reasoning is valid, you will reply "by using my reasoning".

You're slipping back into solipsism. We agreed not to go there. I'm not going to answer any of those things.

Now you're just trying to duck the issue, and perhaps you don't understand what solipsism is, because this is not solipsism. Solipsism is the belief that only your mind is sure to exist.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Solipsism

What I am talking about is right in line with the video. Without God you don't have any ultimate justification not just for any kind of value, but even for your own reasoning. It is a direct implication of a meaningless existence. This is what I mean about a justifies b justifies c justifies d into infinity. You have nowhere to stake a claim which can justify anything which you experience, or even your own rationality. If you feel you do, please demonstrate why you believe your reasoning is actually valid.

>> ^messenger:

stuff

@shinyblurry


We seem to be getting into a lot of repetition in this thread, so rather than going line by line, I'm going to attempt my points and reactions to yours with fewer quotes, hopefully hitting the important themes. I don't want to minimize anything you've said, so if I skip anything you feel is a separate issue and is cogent, feel free to draw my attention back to it specifically, but check first and see if you can't answer that same point with something I've already said in here.

Before any quotes, I'll give my own overarching point: Life without a higher purpose may be ultimately meaningless (I'll get more into what sense I mean), and that makes life more difficult than if there were ultimate meaning, but that has no bearing whatsoever on the truth value of the existence of Yahweh. You cannot derive Yahweh's existence (or any deity or pantheon) from your claim that life is easier that way. [Edit: Turns out I never actually get to that conclusion in my comments below, so you might as well address it here, but after you've read the rest.]

My overarching point is to demonstrate the cognitive dissonance inherent in your position ... if this world is not under the sovereign control of God, it is doomed to destruction ... You live as a Christian does, judging what is good and evil … these are just chemical reactions in your brain … why be a slave to chemicals?… you have no rational justification for … saying your sense of right and wrong is any better than the psychopath, or that yours should be preferred.

There's no cognitive dissonance in my mind –at least, not about doing the right thing. I acknowledge a life without God has no ultimate purpose, and that in the grand scheme of things, the Earth is going to be swallowed by the Sun in a few billion years and nearly all traces of humanity will disappear with it, and at that time, nothing anybody has ever done will matter because there will be nobody left for whom it can matter. With that in mind, it does seem odd that despite realizing this, I would still care about doing the right thing.

But the fact is that somehow, in the context of my own little 80-year microblip in the lifespan of our planet, I do care. I just do. I have nothing more than a pet theory about why I care. I care, and I care a lot. I suppose I'm somewhat curious as to why I care, but it's not of primary importance for me to know. I just do, and it's pleasing to notice that just about everyone else around me does too. The only question for me is how to follow this desire of mine to be good given my circumstances.

And why should I reject being a slave to chemicals? The chemicals MAKE ME FEEL GOOD, remember? Should I purposefully do things that make me feel bad? Why on Earth would I even consider it? Ridiculous.

I reject the description that I live my life "as a Christian does", as if Christians invented or have some original claim being good. All humans, regardless of faith or lack thereof, believe in the value of humans (or, any societies that don't value humans go extinct very quickly). We all generally shun murder and violence, foster mutual care, enjoy one another's company, feel protective, have a soft spot for babies and so forth, and have been doing all of this as a species since before Christianity began.

So I would turn it around and say instead that it's Christians who go about their lives living like normal humans, but thinking they're being good because their religion tells them to.

I can claim that I have a stronger sense of what's right and wrong than the psychopath simply because they are defined as lacking that sense (or, perhaps non-psychopaths are defined as people having that sense). And you're right that I do not claim that my way of determining which actions are appropriate is inherently superior to the psychopath's. As it happens, my way of determining morality puts me among the overwhelming majority, and so it's relatively easy for me to mitigate the negative impacts of people like that by identifying and avoiding them. I don't say that my way should be preferred to the pshychopath's; I just notice that it is, and I'm grateful for that, and for the fact that psychopathy is not a choice.

You're drowning in a sea of relativism, where a justifies b and b justifies c and c justifies d, and this goes into an infinite regress.

I'm not sure what you're talking about. Can you give an example of a justification to infinite regression that would cause some kind of problem unique to non-thesitic morality?

People worship because they're made to worship … 1 Romans says that God has made Himself evident to people in the things He has made. So, rather than people worshiping because they wanted to avoid meaninglessness, they worship because it the most natural thing for them to do which matches their experience.

I don't accept that it's any more natural to worship Yahweh than some other deity or pantheon or idol, and I can't imagine how you could justify such a position without referring to dogma. Ask a Muslim. He'll tell you with the same conviction that Allah is the natural way and show you his own dogma. 100 years ago, a Japanese would have told you it was natural to worship the Emperor, and today he'd say it's natural to worship ancestors. My point is that any worship will satisfy our natural urge to worship, which is why almost all people worship something, and the object of worship you're brought up around is the one you're most likely to be comfortable with worshipping, naturally.

People don't naturally conclude life is meaningless; they know from their experience that it is very meaningful. They are taught it is meaningless through philosophy and the ennui that comes from modern life. You will never find a population of natural atheists anywhere on the planet.

The problem —and one that I fell into myself— is the conflation of two senses of the word "meaningless". For example, I can say without conflict that the planet and humanity is doomed and so forth, so our actions are ultimately meaningless, AND that interacting with people gives meaning to my life. Now, in the first sense, I mean there's no teleological purpose to my life. In the second sense, I mean certain people and things in my life give fulfillment/bliss. If by "natural atheist" you mean people who have no supernatural practices including ancestor worship or anything, then yes, you're right, I don't believe such a society exists. To me, this points to the universal human tendency to worship something—anything, and to feel better about life when we do so. Slaves to chemical reactions in their brains, as far as I'm concerned.

I can speak on depression because I used to be depressed. I know what it is like, and having come out of it, I am qualified to speak on what I can clearly see as being the number one issue; hopelessness.

Your anecdotal evidence about depression doesn't make you an authority on *the single cause* of depression. Some depressives follow your pattern, and others don't. I don't. When I'm depressed, my feeling isn't hopelessness. In fact, these days, I'm feeling rather hopeless, but I'm not depressed.

If someone feels it right to hurt and steal from you, who are you to tell them that they ought not to do that?

I would never say that someone "ought not to do" anything on objective moral grounds. If I ever said something like that (I wouldn't use the words "ought" or "should"), it would be on the understanding that this person either knows the local laws and is violating them, or more likely shares a moral foundation with me, is acting against it. Either way, that person, upon consideration, would probably prefer not to be doing that mean thing, and is only doing it to satisfy some other need of theirs that they consider higher than their need to do the right thing by me. (This isn't to justify the bad act, but to show you how I think about bad acts and the people who do them. In other words, I don't believe people get encouraged by Satan or anything to do bad things.)

[me:]There’s nobody who’s going to judge my soul when I’m dead, so in that sense, once I’m dead, it won’t matter to me in the least what I do now once I’m dead because I’ll be dead.

[you:]You say this with certainly but I think you have to recognize that this is your hope. I wonder where this hope comes from? Since you've never been dead before to see what happens, what makes you so sure about it? Could this information about life after death exist in the 99.9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 percent of things that you don't know?

It's not my hope. I believe that dead is dead. Much simpler than your belief. Much more likely too. You're implying that I'm following some faulty reasoning about the afterlife. Among the things I don't know are an *infinite number of possibilities* of what could happen in the afterlife, one of which is your bible story. My best guess is nothing. Since nobody's ever come back from the dead to talk about it (Did nobody interview Lazarus? What a great opportunity missed!), nobody knows, so there's no reason to speculate about it ever. Your book says whatever it says, and I don't care because to me it's fairy tales. I'd have to be an idiot to live my life differently because of a book I didn't first believe in. Just like you'd be an idiot to live like a non-believer if you believe so much in Yahweh.

I would also ask how you think the brain understands the complex moral scenarios we find ourselves in and rewards or doesn't reward accordingly? Doesn't that seem fairly implausible to you?

It's quite plausible. I'm no biologist, but I'm sure there's a branch of evolutionary biology that deals with social feelings. My own pet theory is that these feelings are comparable to the ones that control the behaviour of all communal forms of life, like ants and zebras and red-winged blackbirds. It's evolution, either way, IMO.

What makes someone a bad person?

In the absolute sense, religious faith, only, can bring that kind of judgement as a meaningful label.

In the relative sense where I would colloquially refer to someone as "a bad person" (my prime minister, Stephen Harper is an example), I mean someone who has shown they are sufficiently disruptive to other people's happiness due to acting too much in their own self-interest that they're best removed from influence and then avoided. But I would only use that term as a shorthand among people who knew that I don't moralize absolutely.

Do you think this could have something to do with the fact that the bible says you should do things you don't want to do, or that you should stop doing things you don't want to stop doing?

An interesting question, but no. I don't believe it because everything I see points all religion being a human invention.

Your atheism leaves you in the position of not being able to tell me that something like child rape is absolutely wrong. In your world, there is no such thing, and if everyone thought it was right, it would be.

Your hypothetical is an appeal to the ridiculous. It simply is a fact that just about everyone —including child rapists, I'm guessing— believes that child rape is wrong for the simple reason that it severely hurts children. If it increases a person's suffering, then it's wrong. I can think of nothing simpler. Your hypothetical is like one where a passage in the bible prescribed child rape. Would it be OK then? Does the bible that say that rape is wrong? Does it say you cannot marry a child?

[me:]Yahweh’s morality is nowhere near as simple as a secular morality. Where in those two commandments of Jesus does it say that using condoms or allowing same-sex couples to marry is wrong? In fact, saving lives, preventing unwanted pregnancies and allowing all loving couples to get married are ways to love your neighbour, and they’re exactly what I would want my neighbour to do or advocate for on my behalf.

[you:]God wrote His commandments on our hearts, which is the reason your feelings tell you what is right and wrong.

And elsewhere…

[me:]First, you’re talking in circles. If Harris’ model of morality is arbitrary, then so is Jesus’ model of “do unto others…” because they amount to pretty much the same thing, and what one person wants his neighbours to do may not be the same as someone else’s, etc. At some level, we’re going to have to determine for ourselves what’s right and what’s not.

[you:]We have the freedom to obey or disobey God. The one thing God will never do is make you obey Him. In that sense, you have to determine whether you will do what is good or evil.

In both cases, you didn't address my point. 1) I'm stating that Yahweh's laws are far, far more complex than secular morality. You countered that Yahweh's laws were as simple as Jesus' two rules. I showed that was wrong with my AIDS in Africa example (condoms saving lives). You can address that, or you can agree that Yahweh's laws are more complex that Harris' model of secular morality. 2) I also pointed out that Jesus gave us a moral model that requires the individual to determine for themselves based on fixed criteria what's good and what's not. "… as you would have your neighbour do unto you…" implicitly requires the individual to compare their actions with what they themselves would want someone else to do to them. That means relying on their own understanding. This contradicts your other statements that we shouldn't rely on our own understanding. You see? To follow Jesus' second law, you must rely on your own understanding.

[me:]Third, do you picture a world where everyone suddenly agrees that torturing babies is OK? Do you really believe that without religion people have absolutely no internal direction whatsoever, and will accept torturing of babies as acceptable? I don’t. So, no, Harris’ moral system does not allow for the possibility of torturing babies.

[you:]This is really an argument from incredulity. I'm sure no one pictured an entire society could be convinced that killing millions of jews is a good thing, but it happened.

So your answer is yes? You think that without religion, society may decide torturing babies is good because it decided that killing Jews was good?

It's a bad comparison anyway. Genocide happens all the time, even in religious societies (by the 1939 census, 94% of Germans were Christian, FWIW). You can't compare this with an entire society suddenly deciding that torturing children is morally correct. If I ever heard of such a baby-torturing society existed, I'd immediately assume it was in accordance with their religious belief, rather than just what they all decided was OK, wouldn't you?

[me:]If you think I’m being ridiculous, what do you think is more likely: that a society somewhere will suddenly realize that they feel just fine about torturing babies, or that a society somewhere will get the idea that it’s their god’s will that they torture babies? Human instinct is much more consistent than the will of any gods ever recorded.

[you:]What about all of Pagan societies throughout the ages that sacrificed their children to demons?

You're making my point for me. Paganism is religion. Non-believers would never justify a habit of killing their own children.

The fact is, in a meaningless Universe you simply can't prove anything without God. You actually have no basis for logic, rationality, morality, uniformity in nature, but you live as if you do. If I ask you how you know your reasoning is valid, you will reply "by using my reasoning".

You're slipping back into solipsism. We agreed not to go there. I'm not going to answer any of those things.

The marketing is hyperbolic. That doesn't mean that macs didn't actually get fewer viruses or crash less often than the windows machines of that era. It's annoying when people won't see through the marketing to the truth. It is a better product. It's just not that much better.

This comment on screens is interesting. OLEDs aren't my favorite display technology, although for a mobile (short lifespan, small size) they are probably a good choice. I agree, people should pay more attention to the blackness of blacks, dynamic range, etc. I really like LED backlit TVs for this reason. Even then, the entire room is often illuminated by a screen displaying solid black.

>> ^Quboid:

How black is the IPS screen's black? This is something I never hear discussed yet is more important than the difference between 300 PPI and 330 PPI. An AMOLED screen showing black in a dark room is invisible, as it should be, while my back-lit monitors and TVs throw out almost enough light to read with.

Most recent dog that had to be put down was my parent's rescued German Shepard. He was losing his hair to something, having more trouble walking. His rear claws, a couple of them fell out. He could barely step up into the house on his own, a few inches off the ground.

This went on for a month with no improvement, but no noticeable deterioration...he kept losing hair. Vets wanted close to a grand to run tests on him to try to figure out what was happening to his skin after the first round of tests came up with nothing.

We thought it was a severe flea allergy at first, but it just kept spreading despite medications.

Got to where he couldn't get up on his own anymore, and this was a 100-120 pound dog with bad joints so you had to be really careful how you helped him. Eventually he started not going to the bathroom outside when they got him out, but he'd lay back down and pee all over himself.

He ate throughout this, he ate as much as he ever had when he was well. He responded well, acted like he wanted to do things but he just couldn't get up on his own.

Then he got to where he could barely walk once he got up, and he was put down after that started. Didn't sleep deeply or much throughout most of this. Vet was out of ideas, and this was almost two months of giving him a chance to recover if it was possible.

I felt that last week was irresponsible of my parents, my mother in particular, to continue on. Because despite him eating, he was noticeably worse and while he wasn't whining in pain he was panting all the time. The lengths they had to go to just to get him outside to use the bathroom was crazy, getting him back in was worse. And they had to try to plan it because it took both of them to do it.

I suspect he had some kind of cancer that was on his skin and internal, but the vets had no guesses as to what it was. But they advised that everything he came in contact with should be thrown out just in case it was infectious to other dogs or animals. I mean technically he could have recovered, but you're talking a thousand dollars in tests just to find out where to go next on a dog that was getting worse in a few months time. And was already near the typical lifespan of a well taken care of German Shepard, and he had heart worms due to previous owners and a bad diet for his first year of life...he was healthy enough but it plagued him through the years. Plus arthritic joints that had been getting steadily worse for him.

He was.......10 or 11, hard to be exact since he was a rescue. That was in Dec of 2011 a few days before christmas. It was either do it then or risk him getting even worse and having to go through the holidays with no places open.

Before that was a 18-19 year old cat. Whose kidneys were failing, some shots made it looked like she was recovering. But she got bad fast when she started getting bad again.

Both of those cases made the few extra days we got with them seem rather selfish after it was done, because both of them could barely sleep. Go to the bathroom under their own power, etc. And hindsight being 20/20 goes to that, but it was clear to me in both cases that at least a week ahead both of them were not going to make it. And plans should have been made so it wasn't a wake up in the morning, see the cat/dog is way worse than the day before and have to find an emergency vet or something because you waited until the weekend or it was too early in the morning to take them to the regular vet and they had to lay there for hours like that.

I miss them both, but.......that was selfishness to go to those extremes and kid ourselves that they weren't old for their breeds.


I mean maybe this guy's dog sleeps like a baby at night and it's a totally different case, but a 19 year old dog is a very old dog anyway you cut it. If it needs the water every day to function......when it gets cold out I hope that guy is prepared to do what's right for that dog.

I look at it as being no different than having an elderly parent who expressed their wishes to have no extreme measures taken to keep them alive after X many days 15 years ago. You will always have that doubt that they changed their mind in 15 years or that something could be done, but you also know what you agreed to do when they told you this. Once the reasonable options are exhausted, not doing what's best for them and/or within their wishes to prolong it "because maybe....." is selfish. Owning an animal is kind of like agreeing to do something like that, do your best and when it's time do what you agreed to. If vets are giving you multiple thousand dollar treatment options with low chances on an old animal, you're probably being a little hysterical and they don't want to kill that hope or are taking advantage of you.

And I say this as someone who despises people who mistreat animals, and let them breed uncontrollably and let them run stray around the neighborhoods getting hit by cars and such. They invoke suffering on animals by negligence and ignorance. You are as bad as them if you drag it out on your own pets after they've had a long long life compared to others of their breed. Try your best, and when the time comes...do what's right by them...not for you.

There are probably quite a number of people out there who wish they could be euthanized due a terminal illness or some kind of degenerative disease......it's not as heartless as it sounds but it hurts to think about.

>> ^shuac:

>> ^dannym3141:
...I would estimate that it is only within the lifespan of the oldest person on earth (less than, but whatever) that politics has become a dirty job...

Yes, because the senators of Rome were all squeaky clean.
And if you pull a "but that wasn't a democracy" shit on me, then I'll...I'll...I'll give you such a pinch!


For a given definition of dirty job. I think there's something particularly sinister about modern government as you might have gleaned

There's plenty of tyrants to speak of, but the modern way.. it's like being a tyrant without anyone knowing. They've managed to work their way up the system within the law and steal more money than they ever could outside of it. In the past, tyrants etc... it was a different world, harder to control. But i feel like they have a firm choke hold on everything now. Legally.

>> ^dannym3141:

...I would estimate that it is only within the lifespan of the oldest person on earth (less than, but whatever) that politics has become a dirty job...


Yes, because the senators of Rome were all squeaky clean.

And if you pull a "but that wasn't a democracy" shit on me, then I'll...I'll...I'll give you such a pinch!

@jonny i think your definition of psychopath is a bit off and i think the correct definition really does apply better, especially with my intent in mind. They are indeed interchangeable depending on the desired effect of the word.

Also, we haven't had democracy for thousands of years so i'm not sure what you mean there. I would estimate that it is only within the lifespan of the oldest person on earth (less than, but whatever) that politics has become a dirty job, and so i think that it is reasonable to say "it has become common knowledge", as it would be their children and grand children who would learn it.

The question was meant to be hypothetical. The point is that you must deal with them before you deal with this, because they won't stop.

When having an expensive repair done:

1) Can an item involved wear out as well, causing almost or as much cost in labour?
2) Can failure of the item cause damage or shorten the lifespan of the item you are repairing?
3) Is it cheap and easy to replace "since you have it apart"?

If you can answer yes to any of these questions, it's a solid, logical idea to replace the other items.

The idler and tensioner pulleys tend to be the reason your timing belt fails before normal wear occurs.
The water pump is usually 3-4 bolts and an O-ring and tend to cost $50-100. The labour involved is IDENTICAL to the timing belt (and actually changing the belt when you change the water pump is a good idea too.)
New accessory belts for your alternator and power steering et al. are cheap.
You would also be smart to have your battery and alternator tested while they are disconnected. Most auto electrical shops will do that for free, just make sure they're reputable.

>> ^kceaton1:

Neil is asserting the old question of whether something of sufficient intelligence beyond ours; and not just intelligence it will also cover anything that intelligence has manifested for us: languages (although as others have pointed out languages are special and in fact may be a foundational aspect of intelligence; then we create other forms of language over the instinctive setup, like math, or coding), culture, politics, civilization, and I believe those basically cover almost everything really as anything will be a group, sub-group, or "ultra"-sub-group of one of these parent categories.
The 1% that he spoke of was of course the exact genes and DNA that allow humans to complete all of their FULL "sentience". That was the key thing. We ALREADY know of animals in the past that most likely had baseline IQs of 150 or so; I'm not kidding (they were called the Boskops and unfortunately they went extinct; they lived in 'Southern' Africa, I know it was Africa just not sure it was the southern end). They most likely did not have one thing we have, making their extremely high intelligence very limited in its usefulness: they were missing LANGUAGE. Language IS --THE-- foundational stone for civilization, increasing potential, building, constructing, or making anything on the LARGE scale--for all of these you need cooperation and for that you need understanding and for THAT you need language. Language is so simple, but it is letting me right now explain to you some very straight forward ideas and a few abstract ones and it's the ability that our language and intelligence can convey these abstract notions to one and another that makes our brains SO stupendous!
Unfortunately for the Boskops they came into being at a very bad time in history. They had VERY low numbers when whatever nearly wiped out the human species hit the planet also hit them, but it decimated them into extinction. Too bad as they would have been our closest kin to having another "kind" to talk with, if we could find a way to communicate past the barrier that we surpass so easily with language and then as we get older we use different advanced forms of "language" to explain abstract things: art, math, music, etc... I think the 1% in intelligence and the barrier we may come across with other alien species is much like this scenario here. It's nice and hopeful to have faith that we WILL persevere and always be able to understand and to be needed (not to be the ants on the sidewalk...). BUT, if their biological and perhaps technological changes make us so inferior that only their babies seem to get along with us, we may have a problem. We can hope due to their intellect that they will realize that they may be able to "raise us" to their level, as we may be able to do as well--which I will say below in the next paragraph. But, we will never know until we start meeting these alien races. It is also VITAL to remember that these races will be ALIEN in EVERY sense of that word. Their genetics, their physiology, how they reproduce, not to mention their culture and language... When we meet an alien race it will be an undertaking for BOTH of our sides; not to mention the how our biosphere and their related (assuming we meet them with their spacesuits, we will most likely be the lucky ones; unless they have technology to deal with every conceivable threat--then we are the ones in trouble, unless they thought of that too) "brought-along" biosphere will interact with each other and what will happen. It'll be DAMNED interesting whether we meet in peace, trivial lifeforms with a chance of "breakthrough", and of course the resource/planet-builders or "war".
(BTW, there are some extremely good documentaries about alien biology; problems we'd have with their biology coming in contact with us (and us with them), technology differences, etc... I'll post it in this thread if I can find it and the name (hopefully I 'll be able to see if it's available for viewing pleasure somewhere or atleast Netflix if you've got it.)
1% is a bit of a cop-out... As the situation is a bit more complicated than that; especially nowadays. Soon we will begin to have the option to enhance ourselves via bio-genetics and also through technology--later through nano-technology (that is were the real fun happens; well atleast a good portion of it). To be honest we could quite literally in the far-off future take the 1% of the genetic structure that makes the aliens "super-smart" and then replicate that part directly into ourselves. We can also add computers to our brain and change our biology to do an endless amount of things--things that would sound like you just wrote a new Sci-Fi novel, but you didn't. You could also later install an sentient A.I.: merge with it, with you in control--these A.I. units would be made to have all sorts of personalities and perhaps traits, like being good at math, art, and likes to write poetry. It could have a pre-stored vault of knowledge allowing you to gain a HUGE mass of information quickly. Then you have its sentient core that is fabricated to get along with your psychology--they could be designed to feel a sense of extreme euphoria to join with and allow someone to merge with them so that there isn't any real chance of problems, because you've designed them to WANT this more than anything in THEIR lives--it would be a win-win. Suddenly you would be able to multi-task think in two frames (maybe more if you have "cloned computer cores of your A.I.") of mind with almost all of humanity's knowledge base at your fingertips and if that nanotechnology surgery went through then you had ALL of your neurons and structures rebuilt and replaced with whatever is the fastest (probably either photon or quantum based). Then, now, you are thinking almost as fast as the speed of light, we'll go conservative at 80%.
So now this once human that has been highly modified most likely from birth, perhaps even before that... We have something that the aliens might greet and realize that this object is very much ON their level--easily. Even if you are not, that can be modified and if our science is good enough and future is bright enough--THERE IS NO LIMIT. That is the other part that Neil needs to mention.
Once you are able to get so far in the intelligence game you have a CHANCE to play big and win it all. Atleast that is how I can easily see things happening. I don't think we are EVER limited, not anymore. What DOES limit human beings is our corruption, our literal moral and social decay. It is PARAMOUNT that we watch out for this! OR, we will not see these "bright" futures.

PS- A little more on my A.I. and merging possibilities. You'll have to zoom-in or copy/paste it as it's a little to long as it's too much off topic.
I really do think that is the way to go with A.I. that is sentient; make sure you do two things: one, make sure that they have an intelligence with knowledge that allows them to easily see that civilization or cooperation is KEY to us living as a species (THE SENTIENTS should be included in their programming as being different, but I would think a "speciation" should be understood. The key goal is to merge as this would give them FULL feelings and emotion while giving the human control as well, fundamentally this would be a "transcendental" process for them as they are becoming the NEXT specie in the speciation process "a new human-A.I." merged species. This would of course merely be a choice for people to make in their lives not one they HAVE TO (but that will be a subject for when something like this would ever happen). When lifespans enter the hundreds even perhaps thousands of years with little to no chance of EVER dying due to all the enhancements they may have, merging may ultimately seem like a qualitative "next step" in life, much like marriage is to many nowadays. Second, as I said above I think since WE are the designers of a new species we are ALSO INCREDIBLY responsible for their well-being, behavior, choices, and EVERYTHING that goes along with this. When we create their psychology I would purposely cause increased euphoria during MANY events in their lifetimes and basically no pain except to warn--but ONLY to the most minimal of degrees. When they interact with humans in a cooperative fashion in which the human agrees and likes euphoria can be introduced. More so for A.I.s that are going to be merged this euphoria is enhanced A LOT to better allow them to serve their counterpart so that in the merger--it is very important--that no conflict of personality would arise as it might destroy the entire "structuring" event--I'm assuming a merger may take awhile, perhaps a few days. The euphoria is a safeguard. Although I would use it many other aspects along with other beneficial things we've found the problem is are we going to just end up creating an A.I. that is essentially a drug addict. I don't know whether it's best to go backwards or forwards on that issue, as it would be nice to never have depression (if you have the chance for it). If we create robots who are sentient (because they have to be to do the job safe), but their job is to empty trash all day long; what if we co-design them to make sure they LOVE to do the job that they are doing. They also get euphoria from performing well. When they get rest they can do what they want, but perhaps since they are doing such menial and hard-work so that we don't waste our lives doing it--maybe they can have access to euphoric dream states, so when they wake THEY ARE HAPPY! Perhaps even give them a secondary core were they are enabled with their co-workers, who in these cores have very strong and different personalities, here. It could be a place like WoW meets Skyrim and while they work, loving what they do, they also lead a second life with their secondary core that gives them a true A.I. personality--with their normal euphorias and pains. But, they know it's a game and they never tire of it--it's the best ever made or that will ever be made. Such is the same for all the menial labor bots who perhaps have a little chat forum that's active for a few hours every night where everyone talks about their characters and the game--think of it like our prime-time T.V. schedule. Anyway, there are a few fun A.I. ideas...
A little long and off-topic so I'll make it SMALL!
/LONG (so if you quote me, kill my text, please, or smallify it...)

I forgot what I was going to say.

(And you can quote me on that.)

Neil is asserting the old question of whether something of sufficient intelligence beyond ours; and not just intelligence it will also cover anything that intelligence has manifested for us: languages (although as others have pointed out languages are special and in fact may be a foundational aspect of intelligence; then we create other forms of language over the instinctive setup, like math, or coding), culture, politics, civilization, and I believe those basically cover almost everything really as anything will be a group, sub-group, or "ultra"-sub-group of one of these parent categories.

The 1% that he spoke of was of course the exact genes and DNA that allow humans to complete all of their FULL "sentience". That was the key thing. We ALREADY know of animals in the past that most likely had baseline IQs of 150 or so; I'm not kidding (they were called the Boskops and unfortunately they went extinct; they lived in 'Southern' Africa, I know it was Africa just not sure it was the southern end). They most likely did not have one thing we have, making their extremely high intelligence very limited in its usefulness: they were missing LANGUAGE. Language IS --THE-- foundational stone for civilization, increasing potential, building, constructing, or making anything on the LARGE scale--for all of these you need cooperation and for that you need understanding and for THAT you need language. Language is so simple, but it is letting me right now explain to you some very straight forward ideas and a few abstract ones and it's the ability that our language and intelligence can convey these abstract notions to one and another that makes our brains SO stupendous!

Unfortunately for the Boskops they came into being at a very bad time in history. They had VERY low numbers when whatever nearly wiped out the human species hit the planet also hit them, but it decimated them into extinction. Too bad as they would have been our closest kin to having another "kind" to talk with, if we could find a way to communicate past the barrier that we surpass so easily with language and then as we get older we use different advanced forms of "language" to explain abstract things: art, math, music, etc... I think the 1% in intelligence and the barrier we may come across with other alien species is much like this scenario here. It's nice and hopeful to have faith that we WILL persevere and always be able to understand and to be needed (not to be the ants on the sidewalk...). BUT, if their biological and perhaps technological changes make us so inferior that only their babies seem to get along with us, we may have a problem. We can hope due to their intellect that they will realize that they may be able to "raise us" to their level, as we may be able to do as well--which I will say below in the next paragraph. But, we will never know until we start meeting these alien races. It is also VITAL to remember that these races will be ALIEN in EVERY sense of that word. Their genetics, their physiology, how they reproduce, not to mention their culture and language... When we meet an alien race it will be an undertaking for BOTH of our sides; not to mention the how our biosphere and their related (assuming we meet them with their spacesuits, we will most likely be the lucky ones; unless they have technology to deal with every conceivable threat--then we are the ones in trouble, unless they thought of that too) "brought-along" biosphere will interact with each other and what will happen. It'll be DAMNED interesting whether we meet in peace, trivial lifeforms with a chance of "breakthrough", and of course the resource/planet-builders or "war".
(BTW, there are some extremely good documentaries about alien biology; problems we'd have with their biology coming in contact with us (and us with them), technology differences, etc... I'll post it in this thread if I can find it and the name (hopefully I 'll be able to see if it's available for viewing pleasure somewhere or atleast Netflix if you've got it.)

1% is a bit of a cop-out... As the situation is a bit more complicated than that; especially nowadays. Soon we will begin to have the option to enhance ourselves via bio-genetics and also through technology--later through nano-technology (that is were the real fun happens; well atleast a good portion of it). To be honest we could quite literally in the far-off future take the 1% of the genetic structure that makes the aliens "super-smart" and then replicate that part directly into ourselves. We can also add computers to our brain and change our biology to do an endless amount of things--things that would sound like you just wrote a new Sci-Fi novel, but you didn't. You could also later install an sentient A.I.: merge with it, with you in control--these A.I. units would be made to have all sorts of personalities and perhaps traits, like being good at math, art, and likes to write poetry. It could have a pre-stored vault of knowledge allowing you to gain a HUGE mass of information quickly. Then you have its sentient core that is fabricated to get along with your psychology--they could be designed to feel a sense of extreme euphoria to join with and allow someone to merge with them so that there isn't any real chance of problems, because you've designed them to WANT this more than anything in THEIR lives--it would be a win-win. Suddenly you would be able to multi-task think in two frames (maybe more if you have "cloned computer cores of your A.I.") of mind with almost all of humanity's knowledge base at your fingertips and if that nanotechnology surgery went through then you had ALL of your neurons and structures rebuilt and replaced with whatever is the fastest (probably either photon or quantum based). Then, now, you are thinking almost as fast as the speed of light, we'll go conservative at 80%.

So now this once human that has been highly modified most likely from birth, perhaps even before that... We have something that the aliens might greet and realize that this object is very much ON their level--easily. Even if you are not, that can be modified and if our science is good enough and future is bright enough--THERE IS NO LIMIT. That is the other part that Neil needs to mention.

Once you are able to get so far in the intelligence game you have a CHANCE to play big and win it all. Atleast that is how I can easily see things happening. I don't think we are EVER limited, not anymore. What DOES limit human beings is our corruption, our literal moral and social decay. It is PARAMOUNT that we watch out for this! OR, we will not see these "bright" futures.



PS- A little more on my A.I. and merging possibilities. You'll have to zoom-in or copy/paste it as it's a little to long as it's too much off topic.

I really do think that is the way to go with A.I. that is sentient; make sure you do two things: one, make sure that they have an intelligence with knowledge that allows them to easily see that civilization or cooperation is KEY to us living as a species (THE SENTIENTS should be included in their programming as being different, but I would think a "speciation" should be understood. The key goal is to merge as this would give them FULL feelings and emotion while giving the human control as well, fundamentally this would be a "transcendental" process for them as they are becoming the NEXT specie in the speciation process "a new human-A.I." merged species. This would of course merely be a choice for people to make in their lives not one they HAVE TO (but that will be a subject for when something like this would ever happen). When lifespans enter the hundreds even perhaps thousands of years with little to no chance of EVER dying due to all the enhancements they may have, merging may ultimately seem like a qualitative "next step" in life, much like marriage is to many nowadays. Second, as I said above I think since WE are the designers of a new species we are ALSO INCREDIBLY responsible for their well-being, behavior, choices, and EVERYTHING that goes along with this. When we create their psychology I would purposely cause increased euphoria during MANY events in their lifetimes and basically no pain except to warn--but ONLY to the most minimal of degrees. When they interact with humans in a cooperative fashion in which the human agrees and likes euphoria can be introduced. More so for A.I.s that are going to be merged this euphoria is enhanced A LOT to better allow them to serve their counterpart so that in the merger--it is very important--that no conflict of personality would arise as it might destroy the entire "structuring" event--I'm assuming a merger may take awhile, perhaps a few days. The euphoria is a safeguard. Although I would use it many other aspects along with other beneficial things we've found the problem is are we going to just end up creating an A.I. that is essentially a drug addict. I don't know whether it's best to go backwards or forwards on that issue, as it would be nice to never have depression (if you have the chance for it). If we create robots who are sentient (because they have to be to do the job safe), but their job is to empty trash all day long; what if we co-design them to make sure they LOVE to do the job that they are doing. They also get euphoria from performing well. When they get rest they can do what they want, but perhaps since they are doing such menial and hard-work so that we don't waste our lives doing it--maybe they can have access to euphoric dream states, so when they wake THEY ARE HAPPY! Perhaps even give them a secondary core were they are enabled with their co-workers, who in these cores have very strong and different personalities, here. It could be a place like WoW meets Skyrim and while they work, loving what they do, they also lead a second life with their secondary core that gives them a true A.I. personality--with their normal euphorias and pains. But, they know it's a game and they never tire of it--it's the best ever made or that will ever be made. Such is the same for all the menial labor bots who perhaps have a little chat forum that's active for a few hours every night where everyone talks about their characters and the game--think of it like our prime-time T.V. schedule. Anyway, there are a few fun A.I. ideas...

A little long and off-topic so I'll make it SMALL!

/LONG (so if you quote me, kill my text, please, or smallify it...)

I've heard some praise for Microsoft's decision to boldly commit to a GUI change aimed towards the future of portable cloud computing, but forcing touch based interfaces onto desktops/laptops, and apparently without an option to turn it off, is getting a lot of negative response.

Trying to force me to find hotspots in the corners of the screen feels like some clunky punishment for not having a Windows tablet. Maybe we'll get used to it, or hack it, or stick with Windows 7 like some people are still hanging on to XP, forcing the extension of its lifespan until Microsoft comes up with something not so goofy.