Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Indicators of God III
PLUGGING AWAY AGAINST THE SMART GUYS. When you think about it, the rationalists, the atheists, have an insurmountable task. Their baseline position when all is said and done is that nothing matters. There is no guiding hand. No matter how much things might seem to have meaning, they really don't. We can imputemeaning, they argue, and believe it to the point of affirming principles which should govern us because ethics are good even if there's no real reason we should have them.
The problem is, people see meaning in all kinds of things. In fact, meaning is essential to the history of civilization, the brain is wired to perceive meaning, and it doesn't take a Ph.D to infer that if everything's just some big accident, there's not much point in going to work tomorrow, not shooting your annoying neighbor, raising children, or sacrificing anything for future generations. Why Europe is dying, if you want to get specific about it, and why Islam and its Sharia imperative are slowly taking them over. Why God can't be an asshole if you value civilization and freedom. Society needs a benevolent God even if smart people don't.
Reason would therefore tell us that a kindly, personal God is necessary to the human race, and that the attempt to destroy, deny, or eliminate God entirely or recast him as something so impersonal as the world's smartest MIT professor is anti-rational. It subverts human survival. So what's the evolutionary advantage of warring against God? None. All societies that have ruled God out of existence have been murderous charnel houses. Fact.
Those of us who are not entirely rational and superior to the idea of a Big Guy in the Sky have learned to look for God in the details. Which makes us fools, to be sure. But it's a kind of folly that makes the rationalists look utterly dreary.Their lack of imagination causes the mind to fail at the challenge of of imagining so much lack of imagination.
Thanks to the Internet, most of us know part of the story of Susan Boyle. She showed up on the stage of Britain's Got Talent and stirred everyone. Few know she didn't actually win the competition. Fewer know that she suffered brain damage at birth and was regarded in her Scottish hometown as a kook, a useless eccentric.
Until she was plucked from obscurity to become a worldwide star. An accident? Surely. But also a global event. It's easy to jeer at the idea of sainthood. Catholics have draped the concept in so much religious mumbo-jumbo that they make life easy for skeptics. They insist on documented miracles. Vatican religious forensics are as rigorous as they are silly.
I propose Susan Boyle as a nondenominational saint, as an indicator of God. She came from anonymity to become a record-breaking recording star. This plain, middle-aged, solitary woman is the only person to have to have Number One records in the U.K. and the U.S. for two years running since the Beatles. And it has been far from easy for her. She doesn't want stardom, vast riches, or constant media attentiom. She's as vulnerable as your shyest daughter. Except that she has this gift which propelled her to step out from the shadows in a display of courage that is almost unthinkable.
The whole documentary, kids. Watch it. If you don't I'll know when you start sniping.
Sudden celebrity almost wrecked her. But she regained her footing, and she hasn't moved away from her Scottish hometown, she doesn't spend the big money she's making now, and she's still the person who set foot on that mass media stage -- an innocent.
Which is the most interesting part. The intransigent machinery of show busines has somehow bent itself around her to accommodate the uniqueness of her innocence. Simon Cowell feels responsible for her well being. He agonizes about his actions anent her. Her producer concedes that he records her differently from other singers; she has to feel the song or she's no good. Her manager is walking a tightrope -- expose her to a 100,000 person audience in China to innure her against performance anxiety or subject her to the smaller and more savage audience of critics in the west.
Boyle herself is a chirpy reminder that she doesn't actually care about the show biz angle. She's fine in China. She still brews her own tea in her bleak Scottish town. She remains the innocent, slightly risque, boldly unstarlike, and reduced to tears at a moment's notice every day. Why she sings like she has a splinter of God embedded in her heart.
The only other good rendition I've heard.
Okay. Not exactly neutral on this one.
It was her DREAM. To be like Elaine Page. Damn!
Love.
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