Anserine

SuperCollider!

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 10:52:10 GMT

Right, I only heard about this yesterday, even though the software was first released in March 1996 (although it's enjoyed quite a few improvements since then). SuperCollider is, according to its sourceforge site, "an environment and programming language for real time audio synthesis and algorithmic composition. It provides an interpreted object-oriented language which functions as a network client to a state of the art, realtime sound synthesis server."

According to Wikipedia, it's used by a fair number of notable artists including Aphex Twin, Autechre and Peter Gabriel. Wikipedia makes no mention, however, of its use by iPhone-wielding Japanese female Kraftwerk homage, Craftwife.

I tried to install it last night, but the code was recently changed to refactor some things into a separate library and the SConstruct file hadn't been updated to reflect that. It was, however, updated this morning, so I've finally got it working.

Unlike the $200 Vocaloid I bought earlier this year, SuperCollider, previously commercial, is now Free Open-Source Software. It works on Mac OSX, and to an extent on Linux (the difference is that, apparently, Linux doesn't (yet?) get all the fancy graphical stuff OSX gets). There's also a Windows port, known as PsyCollider.

I don't have time to play with it right now since I have to do mundane things like pay my rent and sleep through a lecture on Formal Models of Computation, but I'll get on it this afternoon.

Yawn.

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 19:08:52 GMT

["He tries to make a connection between religion and all the wars and violence in the world..."]

Facepalm...

I'm so sick of this argument. Big name atheists of today pretend to ride in valiantly on their white steeds to rescue us from the horrible fantasy of religion for the betterment of mankind. They need to read a history book.

I say bring back the Friedrich Nietzsche style atheists, at least he was honest about the unavoidable bloodshed in which atheistic philosophy results.

- markg, Atheist Central comments

Admittedly, I don't know Nietzche too well, but I'm fairly sure he didn't say that a lack of belief in God would lead to bloodshed. It's my understanding that Nietzche realised that belief in God would have to be replaced by something, and that that 'something' would be either perspectivism or nihilism. Neither perspectivism nor nihilism seem particularly martial to me. In fact, I would go as far as to say that perspectivism would probably decrease wars by naturally leading to an increased respect for competing ideologies, and that nihilism would decrease wars because nothing is important enough to fight for (or over). This is probably a grossly oversimplified view, and perhaps it doesn't work that way, but I'm all but certain Nietzche never said that an atheistic philosophy (which begets the question: "Which one?") inevitably leads to bloodshed.

Height

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 09:38:53 GMT

Celebrating the fact that today's 'Height' comic is available as a poster in the xkcd store.

Reasons to be militant #5

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 03:33:20 GMT

There is something going on in a lot of the countries mentioned. The birth rate of the native populations are dropping and people in belgium,holland and spain are dying faster than being born. Mohammed is one of the most common names for newborns in Holland. Is it just coincidence that the whole gay rights movement is strong in these places. Associated issues like abortion,euthanasia and birth control always follow gay rights. A culture of death

Not quite as hateful as the usual, but this one stands as a reason to be militant by virtue (if that's the right word) of the fact that it's completely made up. Some of that's a total no-brainer. Abortion and birth-control are associated to gay rights? Someone either doesn't know what 'gay' means or doesn't know "where babies come from". And the euthanasia-gay connection is just far too absurd to even begin to tackle. But a little research shows the rest of the argument to be equally silly.

Holland having a population decline for instance. The rate of population growth in Holland has slowed, but it is still several times higher than the European average, and in fact still the fourth highest in Europe (only Iceland, Luxembourg and Turkey have faster-growing populations). It's predicted to keep growing until 2040, and then there will be a population decline. Not due to gay rights, though. Spain and Belgium still have growing populations too, though their growth is more in line with the European average (about 0.1%).

Mohammed is not one of the most common names for newborns in Holland, either (the most common names being, according to one FSTDT commenter quoting from here, Sem, Daan, Thomas, Tim, Lars, Lucas, Bram, Milan, Max and Jesse). And it's kind of more than a little hard to see what that has to do with gay rights either. Did I sleep through the part where Islam suddenly became notoriously tolerant of homosexuality?

So why is this a reason to be militant? Because it's just an example of a much bigger issue; for fundamentalist Christians, no lie is too big if it can support their position. While researching the response to these lies took me all of about five seconds, there are those who wouldn't bother, and of them, there might even be some who would believe them. And if not these lies, then others. These people have no integrity nor honesty, and are trying to influence big decisions. That's why it's important.

One more year.

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 11:23:51 GMT

So that's it, then. I can officially (according to the age/2+7 metric) no longer date teenagers. Not that I'd want to. Bloody teenagers. Wow, did I just say that? I am getting old...

While reason tells me I am only a day older than I was yesterday, it's hard not to get swept up in it. 26. What's that number all about? No longer in the 18-25 bracket. Mainly I feel guilt. I'm supposed to be a proper grown-up now, or something? Of course, I believe that the fact that I'm not is a signifier not of a personal flaw but of a cultural paradigm-shift towards a more leisurely, ludic, relaxed society. I'm a bit ahead of the curve on that one, but that's not in and of itself such a bad thing.

Mainly it's easier to feel guilt than it is to loudly complain "I'm not crazy! It's the rest of the world that's crazy!" There's plenty of cultural reinforcement of the idea that shifting from the spartan to the sybaritic is something to be resisted. But, y'know, fuck that shit. Growing up is supposed to engender in me some kind of work ethic, according to the rules, but really I can't look at the pretensions of authenticity and the glorification of graft without finding it completely absurd; both primitive and sinister. This isn't to say I promote laziness, but I do promote doing your own thing. An effort towards "being real" is laudable, but not when that effort is an obsession which comes with preconceived baggage of what 'real' actually means. Then it's just unhealthy.

Some more music videos

Sat, 20 Sep 2008 13:42:07 GMT

Cornelius - Point of View Point

Cornelius, Keigo Oyamada, Mister Takako Minekawa, whatever you want to call him, is great. This is the lead track from his 2002 album Point. The video is a fantastic art-rollercoaster through Tokyo that is at times reminiscent of Koyaanisqatsi. "Cornelius is the genius with the world's most brilliant music-style," Momus sang on Stars Forever. He may not have been wrong.

Stereolab - Ping Pong

This is probably my favourite three-minute pop song, and also probably my favourite of Stereolab's songs. The ludic-themed video is a great complement to the ironic theme of the song; "There's only millions that die in the bloody wars, it's alright!"

Stereo Total - Ich Bin Nackt

I am naked. Mm-mm. Totally naked. So what? I am naked: that's the way my mother made me.

Mono - Life in Momo

Let's forget Gwyneth Paltrow and Ethan Hawke for now (I haven't even seen the film). Let's forget Emma fucking Bunton for, like, ever. How gorgeous is Siobhan de Maré? I still love the song, too, even after 10 years.

So, my course programme for next semester, then.

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 19:31:34 GMT

Formal Models of Computation: It seems like this will be an extension of the logic classes last year, which I loved (and was very good at), so I can't complain about this one.

Knowledge Technologies: ~~Probably not as interesting as it sounds, though it might have its moments.~~ Already changed my mind about this. It should be really interesting, if this is anything to go by.

(1 hr 15 minutes and quite technical.)

Natural Language Processing: Oh, FUCK yes. I love computing. I love natural languages. When you put the two together, how could that be anything other than win?

I also have to choose one of three other courses...

Advanced Distributed Information Systems: Given that Distributed Information Systems was the course for which I got the lowest mark last year, I doubt I'll be doing this (even if the reason I got the low mark was overconfidence at Distributed Systems and underconfidence at Enterprise Computing).

Biological Applications of Computing Science: This one seems really interesting, especially given my new interest in biology, but given that (as I said a couple of posts ago) I never did biology even at high school, it might be one I'm unlikely to pass, unfortunately.

Graphics: The course looks to be mostly stuff I already know. I hate this, but I think I'm probably going to have to do the course on stuff I already know, because it's the one in which I'm most likely to get a high mark, which is what's important at the end of the day. Shame, really.

I thought last semester would be really boring, and turned out to be wrong. Let's hope I'm not equally wrong about my impression that this semester will actually be quite interesting.

Honestly, I think Creationism should be taught in public schools*.

Sun, 14 Sep 2008 20:18:01 GMT

Why? Several reasons.

One, I have learned far more about biology (which I never took at school) from investigating Creationist claims than I otherwise would have. From investigating the simple Creationist claim: "Proteins require RNA, which requires DNA, which requires proteins, so which came first?" I've learned how proteins are synthesised; I've learned that plant pathogens — viroids — are composed of self-replicating RNA (in the course of discovering that self-replicating RNA exists); I've learned that self-replicating proteins, known as prions, are responsible for the sheep disease scrapie (again, in the course of discovering that self-replicating proteins exist); and I've learned the theory of abiogenesis, which suggests that, in the absence of nucleic acid, the amino acids in the first proteins were structured by the lattice of clay crystals.

Two, as a psychology student I learned about phrenology, craniology and physiognomy. I learned about Hippocratic medicine. I learned about the Empedoclean idea that vision is caused by particles emitted from the eyes to meet the thing being observed. And I have no doubt that these things are also covered in other fields of study. Why shouldn't biology students also learn debunked and discredited theories? (In fact, though as I said, I never took biology, I wouldn't be surprised if Lamarckian evolution is covered or at least mentioned in passing. If you can teach one debunked theory that's been superseded by Darwinian evolution and Mendelian genetics, why not another?) Part of teaching science is undoubtedly teaching how not to do it, and another part is certainly teaching the history of the particular field.

Three, if Creationism does get into public schools, the onus is then on Creationists to back up their assertions (it always was, anyway, but putting it into a public school increases the pressure on that many times over). If the goal of putting Creationism into public schools is to criticise evolution, then it's necessary for the "level playing field" that Creationists claim to want that criticism of Creationism is also fair game. Being that it is in a public school environment, outright falsehoods will not be tolerated, and Creationists will have to come up with something a bit more substantial than "goddidit goddidit goddidit LALALAAA I CAN'T HEAAAAR YOU!" Creationist scientists would have to, y'know, actually do some science. Putting Creationism into public schools would expose it as scientifically inadequate. It's like putting it into the bear pit, and what's more, they actually want in!

Four is a more simple point: teaching Creationism in the curriculum would be cheaper than fighting to keep it out. Schools (particularly in America) being underfunded as it is, fighting Creationism is a waste of limited money that could better be applied to more important things.

* Here I mean "public schools" in the American sense, not the British sense, which is quite the opposite. Forgive my forgetting of which country I'm from.

Obama doesn't think there are 57 states.

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 19:55:50 GMT

He clearly said there are 60.

I don't know what people who think 57+1+2=57 are doing questioning his numeracy.

Reasons to be Militant #4

Sun, 07 Sep 2008 15:56:08 GMT

Wow, only four in and Ray Comfort's already dominating the reasons to be militant.

We don’t have to prove that God exists to the professing atheist. This is because he intuitively knows that He exists. Every person has a God-given conscience. The Bible tells us that this is the “work of the law written on their hearts.” Just as every sane person human being knows that it’s wrong to lie, steal, kill and commit adultery, he knows that God should be first in his life.

Oh, sure I've seen atheists overgeneralise and exaggerate regarding Christian beliefs, but I have never seen an atheist outright lie about what a Christian believes. Ray, here, is outright lying about what atheists believe, and it makes me fucking angry.

To be told that my belief (or lack thereof) is delusional - that's fine, that's par for the course. I may disagree, but I can on some level respect the argument. But to be told that I don't actually have a lack of belief in God is totally beyond the pale. No-one gets to tell me what I do or don't believe.

Reasons to be Militant #3

Sat, 06 Sep 2008 21:36:26 GMT

It's been a while, but here's another one.

A true Christian cannot vote for a Democrat. Plain and simple. Anyone who does is a liar and a deceiver and serving Satan. Anyone of any party who supports the gay lifestyle or abortion needs to open their Bibles and see what the Holy Spirit tells them of their deceit.

--Unknown, OneNewsNow.com comments

As if it wasn't bad enough that certain Christians claim to have a monopoly on morality, now those same kinds of people claim that Republicans have a monopoly on Christianity (and, by extension, that Republicans have a monopoly on morality, which is an even more outrageous claim because at least moral Christians actually exist).

This is the main problem I have with religion: when it's used to legitimise a personal prejudice, to put the full weight of God behind an ideology that isn't in the least Biblical in the first place (which makes it all the more ironic that the poster is asking people to open their Bibles to discover that voting Republican is the true way). Correlating the two is intellectually dishonest and morally bankrupt and we shouldn't let such attempts to do so slide by unnoticed. That's why this is a reason to be militant.

Self-insertion fanfic

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 13:26:06 GMT

The problem I have with RP stories related to RP games is that, without care, they can (to put it in the words of a former orgmate) "end up sounding like fanfic, and worse, self-insertion fanfic".

On the other hand, if done right I like it, because it democratizes the fictional universe. Context is something pre-established, which means one can concentrate on the story. Although shared universe and collective continuity have their problems (like when, frustratingly and arrogantly, one author ret cons another's work), it's still, to my mind, better than the isolated 'separate' continuity of regular fanfic that no-one really cares about.

The community (and in some cases such as Anarchy Online, interaction between the community and the 'owners' of the universe) ensures that it becomes canon, unlike regular fanfic which takes place in its own isolated (and ~~sometimes~~ often alternate-bizarro: see squirrelking and Peter Chimaera) continuity.

(Incidentally, on behalf of animal kingdom royalty everywhere, I, the Goose King, apologise for squirrelking.)

The upshot of this is that the universe becomes more organic, and the phrase "living, breathing universe" so often used by people marketing this type of game comes true. Very few such stories will have the impact on the universe that every story in a 'controlled' shared universe (whether controlled by the publisher in the case of comic books, or by the creator of the universe in the case of the Star Wars Expanded Universe) has, but, with some quality-control from the community, this approach offers an unparalleled richness of content.

With that in mind, I'd like to post some of my own ~~self-insertion fanfic~~ contribution to Anarchy Online's collective continuity beneath the cut.

First Part – Meeting Catriona

Steel rain. A sky like coarse cement.

Borealis was not looking her best. I looked up at the backyard entrance for the third time, again checking it against the address Cher had given me. So, this was the place. A part of me wished I had got it wrong, that I could spend a few more minutes searching for the right one, thereby delaying this meeting I had feared for eighteen months. I had always known she'd be able to find me – and easily – any time she wanted to, but I had never in all that time figured I would be knowingly walking into her jaws.

I wriggled my shoulders, trying to work out some of the tension I was feeling, and gathered my consciousness in preparation. I knew there were probably any number of routines I could have executed in my NCU to counter the way each and every nerve in my body felt like a miniature electric eel, but she would know I'd done that. She would be perceptive enough to pick up on it. For whatever reason – whether because I didn't want to show weakness or simply because I felt it politic, I don't know – that was not an option.

There was the slightest beep from the proximity sensor of the door, and it hissed open smoothly. I willed myself to move forwards through it, feeling the tightness of my body increase.

I walked forward, numb. I couldn't feel the ground through my feet. Then I saw her, and my breath stilled. Through great effort of will, I had forgotten how beautiful she was. Now, memories came rushing back at me, a horde of ghosts with sharp, accusing swords pointed directly at me. As I took in her familiar features, I felt the well-known surge of attraction. I searched my feelings for something more, any remnant scrap of what we had shared back on Caledon. Nothing. That, at least, was some small relief.

She smiled, moved closer to me, and delivered a stinging slap across my cheek. “You're an arsehole, Roland,” she said quietly, without dropping her smile.

And suddenly all the tension was gone, all the fear dissipated and replaced with nothing more sinister than a mild awkwardness. I affected what I intended to be a roguish grin as I rubbed my reddened cheek, but it turned out looking idiotic.

“Good to see you, too, Cat,” I croaked.

We looked at each other for a long moment. My eyes stopped on the Mausser she was cradling. I met her eyes and slowly raised a brow.

“What?” she asked, defensively. “It's more dangerous here than on Caledon! And besides...” Her gaze fell to the swords attached to my belt.

“Fair point. I guess it suits you. I just never would have thought... but yes, here. What are you doing here, Cat?”

Catriona's smile vanished, and her whole presence took on a sober quality. A quality I had never seen in her, before.

“There's a lot I have to tell you, Roland,” she almost-whispered. “It's probably not going to be easy for you to take it all in at once... We should go inside.”

I followed Catriona into an apartment that could at best be described as spartan in its furnishings, or lack thereof.

“There's been... an incident. Back home,” Catriona began in a voice that was suddenly cracked and tired.

“Yeah,” I replied, having expected something like this. “I was told you said it was urgent. Are you in trouble?”

“Roland, you know me better than that. When I get in trouble I'm very good at getting out of it.” Her words contained humour that her tone was lacking. Then she sighed, before the words she had to say tumbled from her mouth. “Caledon's in trouble, Ro. The whole damn planet. It's under siege... officially, they call it-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I held up a hand to stop her. “Calm down. Start from the beginning.”

Catriona took a deep breath, and almost imperceptibly relaxed. “Ok... You know how Caledon Distilleries have always refused to use artificial maturation technology on their commercial whiskeys?”

“Sure... deteriorates the soul of the drink or something,” I replied, a little confused.

“Well, remember that they do use it in certain special cases?”

“Of course. Caledon tradition dictates that the Lord and Lady of Caledon may taste a particular vintage of the whiskey one full year before anyone else can. They use artificial maturation to ensure that the whiskey the Lord receives is not therefore inferior to what it would be one year later.”

“Precisely,” Cat confirmed. “The Lady Mackay lost her baby.”

I blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Is that related?”

“It is, indeed. The best doctors on Caledon had pronounced both her and unborn child perfectly healthy up until the... birth,” she choked slightly on that last word. “However, the baby was born dead and... deformed in a way that none of the prenatal scans had detected. Whatever happened must have happened precisely in the final stages of gestation.”

I leaned a bit closer to Cat. “Go on.”

“Of course, this was the Lord and Lady of Caledon. Tests and inquiries had to be made. It didn't take long before they discovered that this was actually the result of a virus that affects the fertility of humans. They don't know yet if it's limited to soliti or if other breeds are affected.”

“Not much to worry about for an atrox, I suppose,” I said, then instantly regretted it. “Sorry, this isn't a funny matter.”

Cat, rather than chastising me for a tasteless quip, as she would normally have done, ignored it. “The source of the virus was tracked to the whiskey. Investigations revealed that every single whiskey vat on Caledon had been contaminated. The ICC was quick to impose sanctions on Caledon Distilleries which included a quarantine of the planet, to make sure that none of the contaminated stuff got offworld.”

“Ouch,” I agreed. “So, what, you have Peacekeepers walking around on Caledon? That doesn't sound-”

Cat interrupted me. “No, no Peacekeepers. The ICC sub-contracted the quarantine operation out. Omni-Tek won the contract amid absolutely no credible competition whatsoever.”

“You sound disgusted by that. Maybe you should join the clans,” I grinned.

“I don't have time for whatever conflict you've got yourself involved in here, Roland. I have too much to worry about on Caledon. As have you. Omni-Tek is taking the quarantine... a bit too seriously. It's a nightmare there, now. Curfews. Brutality. The guy in charge of the operation is a monster.”

“Omnis usually are,” I replied calmly.

“Don't let your prejudice get the better of you, Ro. If OT screws up this operation, that's a political black mark for them. No, I suspect that the truth is that the commandant is trying to impress someone higher up with his zeal... and going the wrong way about it.”

“And don't let your political naivety get the better of you, Cat! Don't trust Omni-Tek to do the right thing. Ever! They don't care about their political standing as long as they have enough money in the left hand to buy those that can be bought and enough force in the right hand to put down those who can't. And besides, the other powers in the galaxy aren't exactly going to rally against Omni-Tek in support of an insignificant little planet like Caledon.” Anger was slowly bubbling up inside me. Cat, knowing me well, probably saw that. She waited for a moment, regarding me, then clicked her tongue and moved onto a different track.

“I found a trail of clues. It's all a bit technical,” she smiled, using her code-phrase for 'you wouldn't understand how'. And she was probably right. “I followed the trail, but it goes cold here. I suspect that whoever was responsible for the contamination is somewhere on Rubi-Ka. That's why I wanted to see you. You know this place. I don't. I could really use your help.”

I exhaled a long breath. “I have other things to worry about, Cat... There's so much going on here that needs my attent-”

“You have a duty to your home-”

“This is my home!” I shouted, stamping my foot on the floor a little harder than I intended.

We both fell into awkward silence, stunned by my reaction. I stared at the floor, absently trying to make sense of the haphazard pattern on the carpet. Then, with feelings of guilt mixed with remnants of fury, I acquiesced, speaking quietly.

“I'll keep my eyes open. If I hear anything, I'll let you know. If you want more help than that, my price is your help in our struggle.”

“I don't think I can do that, Roland,” Cat replied, equally softly. “But I can't ask any more of you.”

“It's not just me. I don't want to get my friends involved in this.” I paused. “And you should be extremely careful.”

“I understand. There's one more thing you should know, Roland. We don't know who was behind the virus, but we know who their operative on Caledon was. He fled before we could apprehend him...” Catari swallowed heavily, clearly not finding it trivial to give a name. “...it was Anton, Roland. Your brother.”

I tightened my jaw, not knowing what to feel. Everything felt distant and detached. I only knew that I had to get outside.

“I'll be in touch,” I said.

Second Part - Forced Hands

“Shit!”

Catriona stared numbly at the viewport on her wall which artificially mimicked the view from a window high above Borealis Square, despite her apartment being ground-level. From this vantage, the enormous black armoured forms that strode a vigilant patrol across the square looked less intimidating, but Catriona knew not to be fooled by that.

So. Unicorns in Borealis.

She sighed, resigned. Already her investigation had turned up a lack of progress that troubled her. She was sure of the information that had led her to Rubi-Ka, but had hit a proverbial forcefield upon arrival. Informants were scarce. Despite being more used to reading datastreams than human faces, she could tell that everyone she had asked, even those who seemed like promising leads, simply did not know anything about it. She had been prepared for reluctance to divulge information, out of fear, perhaps, but that didn't seem to be the case.

And now the Unicorns were on her doorstep. She could not dismiss the coincidence that Omni-Tek had been the party to successfully win the quarantine contract, and in spite of what she had said to Roland about the commandant merely trying to impress his superiors, the possibility did exist that this whole crisis was orchestrated by Omni-Tek in order to wrest the whiskey monopoly away from the Confederation. So, she had to investigate Omni-Tek, and with the Unicorns stomping around outside, that could prove dangerous.

She stopped herself and chuckled humourlessly. Like investigating Omni-Tek would be safe without the Unicorns there.

She turned to the low, cheap table beside her. Out of the clutter of papers and datadiscs she pulled two items and looked at them in turn. The first was a cheaply-printed, rough paper flyer:-

Neutrals of Rubi-Ka!

Your home, Borealis, has been mercilessly taken from you by the oppressive and rapacious armored boot of Omni-Tek!

How much longer will you tolerate their interference in your peaceful lives? How much longer will you allow Omni-Tek to walk over your soil?

Now is not the time for peace. Now is the time to fight back.

We in the Clans are doing just that, fighting for the freedom of Rubi-Ka. Fighting until peace on Rubi-Ka is a possibility.

Neutrals! Live no longer in a pipe-dream! Any tolerance of Omni-Tek strengthens their ability to do what they've done to Borealis. Will Newland be next?

Join the Clans! Help us rid Rubi-Ka of this cancerous corporation! Only then can we have peace!

JOIN THE CLANS TODAY FOR FREEDOM ON RUBI-KA TOMORROW!

She smiled weakly. Such passion. When had Roland become such an ideologue? Certainly during the past eighteen months; he had never been like that back on Caledon. Perhaps Rubi-Ka itself had been the catalyst that had changed him. Cat was starting to understand how it could do that to a person.

Nevertheless, she turned her attention to the second item, held it in nervous hands. With the Unicorns outside, this automated data-flimsy was a potential death-mark on her. The words 'Clan Application Form' were written in simple, unassuming lettering at the top, entirely at odds with the momentous gravity of its purpose.

She twisted her mouth, biting her lower lip. It had to be done, some time. She trembled slightly, certain that there was no escaping it. But not now. Not with the way it would affect her ID signature... in the eyes of the Omni-Tek soldiers standing in the square. A palpable chill of fear passed through her. She could feel the blood like water in her veins, hear the echo of her pulse.

Shaking her head, she relaxed slightly and let the papers fall from her hand back onto the table. Movement from the viewport caught her attention, and she looked up to see one of the optical sensors on the pale, sinister juggernaut swivelled malevolently to stare directly at her.

There was a moment of awful shock before she could tell herself that it wasn't picking her up at all, but merely the sensor fixed to a Borealis wall that relayed the visual data to her viewport. Still, instinctively, she shivered.

She knew she was going into a very dangerous place.

>Third Part – Flight

Cat was falling behind. I turned my head to look over my shoulder. Fatigue was sharply visible in her every movement. I still had strength in me. I could have pressed on – maybe even as far as the cave I had chosen – without rest. We had to reach that cave. But that might mean leaving Cat behind, and we had to reach that cave.

“We rest here,” I announced, after some deliberation.

Cat glanced around at the endless sylvan landscape and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it's safe?” I knew what she was thinking. All these trees; so many places a would-be assassin could hide.

“As long as you're with me, the woods are the safest place to be,” I replied with a confidence I didn't feel.

Cat shot me a lopsided grin. “You don't believe that, do you?”

I paused and then sighed with amiable resign. “It's not safe, no. But it is the least unsafe place to be.”

“That's encouraging,” Cat said with a straight face, intent on checking her gun. I followed her eyes to the weapon. Big and heavy; no wonder she was tired. I had tried to persuade her to leave it behind. If she had to be armed, it might as well be with something easily portable, but she had insisted. “If I'm going to be stuck with a pea shooter, I might as well not be armed,” she had said with a finality that was near-impossible to counter.

“We set up camp here. No fire: we don't want to draw any attention.”

Cat's voice said: “Yes, master woodsman,” but her face said: “I'm not stupid, you know.” She pressed her back against the nearest tree and lowered herself onto the ground. I remained standing, scanning the surroundings for the small telltale signs of company: footprints, anything out of place.

When I glanced at Cat again she was staring at the ground, lips pursed, jaw set. I shook my head sadly. Our lack of safety didn't inspire fear in her. The pragmatist within me would have preferred if it had. Fear would keep us alive a lot longer than grief.

-----------------------------------------------

Seven days earlier

Nice spot to spend my vacation, I thought bitterly, regarding the nondescript drink in front of me. I held it not so much with my hands, but hunched my whole body around it, willing myself to be smaller, to attract less attention. If I'm going to fight an Omni, why not three belligerent revelers within shouting distance of literally thousands of reinforcements? Bring 'em on! A nervous smile pulled my gums tightly against my teeth. Omni-1, Entertainment district. What part of the collective minds of CEIU had thought this would be a nice place for me to meet their man?

CEIU. The Caledon Expatriate Intelligence Unit. What a grandiose name! Those Who Got Away was more like it. Badly organised didn't begin to cover it, and it couldn't be said to be underfunded because it was totally unfunded. That one dinky little corvette that had managed to get out before the blockade was in full effect, grandly renamed Progenitress served as their base of operations, their home, their flagship, their entire fleet. Commanded by Admiral Duncan whom everyone knew was really a fairly incompetent lieutenant in Caledon's Civil Defence Force. No matter, though. Outside of the blockade, he was Caledon, God help that world and all her children.

I was suddenly aware of a large shadow blocking what little light there was in this dive. Reflexively grasping for my sword and finding only air, I turned to face the source. The first thing I noticed was her forearms, bulky with muscle. Forearms that quietly said I could kill you without effort and looked very much like they could be far more vociferous about the fact. The next thing I noticed was the simple grey Omni-Tek uniform that covered a body which conveyed precisely the same message. And the last thing I noticed was her face, and was surprised that it did not say I could kill you without effort and was instead pleasant and cheerful. Not nearly as surprised, though, as I was to recognise the face.

“Seona!” I blinked.

“Hello, Roland,” Seona replied. “Long time.”

That was true. The last time I had seen her had been before I'd left Caledon. The night before I left, in fact. Seona was Cat's cousin, and back then they had been inseparable, much to my occasional disgruntlement. Seona had looked out for her cousin – much as neither Cat nor I could (or had wanted to) see the signs, Seona had foreseen my inevitable flight. Seona had made every effort to like me, but she hadn't trusted me. That much was clear.

Well, she had been right. I couldn't hold that against her, not anymore.

“I'd really love to catch up on all the gossip,” I said, genuinely apologetic, “but this place makes me feel uncomfortable, so if we could get down to business: tell me what you've found out.”

-----------------------------------------------

And now I'd never get to catch up on that gossip. Seona was gone. Killed. Murdered. Assassinated. She hadn't even known anything. It didn't make any sense. But as much as I had liked her, I could still be analytical. Cat's judgement was an unknown quantity at a time like this.

I knew it couldn't help, but I left her alone with those thoughts. I had to stand watch, stay alert. Whoever had got Seona was after us, I was sure of it. I scanned our surroundings and listened for the telltale out-of-place sounds in the forest.

I wasn't aware of falling asleep. Had I remained awake, I know I could have detected his approach. But I had fallen into a dreamless doze, and when I opened my eyes again, they straddled the wrong end of a malevolent rifle, the line of which led to all-too familiar features locked in an even more malevolent smile.

Fourth Part – The Enemy

One was blank and square, the other cluttered and fuzzy. The latter was my memory, the former the room in which I found myself now. If indeed a room it was. Rooms, even detention cells, usually notably had doors. This one didn't. Four featureless walls, a featureless ceiling, and a featureless floor, all painted the same shade of grey – almost white. Each internal face of the cube had one small glowing panel precisely in the center. I reached out to the one in the floor and found it just as cold as the rest of the floor was on my bare feet.

Bare feet... I was wearing a coarse, powder-blue jumpsuit. I furrowed my brow. If I have enough trouble squeezing into my armour, how did they get it off me without my cooperation? If they've damaged it there'll be hell to pay.

They... third person plural. How was I so sure it was plural? I was all but certain I had seen only one man. I concentrated on each sense in turn, trying to find clues as to what number of people I was dealing with, but no sound penetrated the cell. I could hear my own breathing and that of only one other.

One other... No sound was getting into the cell – even if I hadn't heard breathing and voices, I should have at least been able to hear some environmental noise, which meant the other was in the room with me. Before acting on that thought, I looked at the walls. If no sound was getting in, the cell would either be soundproofed or vacuum-sealed. As bad as soundproofing was, giving me no clue as to what I might find outside, it was rather preferable to having to guess how much oxygen I had left. Especially since I was sharing it with one other.

One other... right! I glanced down at the corner of the room. There was Cat, dressed in a similar powder-blue jumpsuit, leaning against the wall. Her eyes were focussed on something, though I was certain it wasn't something in the cell – there was nothing on which to focus. I looked at her hands. White knuckles spoke of clenched fists. Not a good time to talk, then.

I sniffed the air. It wasn't an offensive smell, but it was strange. A combination of disinfectant and dry must, as if someone had thoroughly cleaned and sterilised a new room and then decided to scent it like an ancient castle, but didn't have enough scent. Regardless, it was a good trick. I could find no clues there, either. But if I just improved my nose...

With a thought, I sent a command to my NCU to run the Relation to Cerberus nanoprogram. There was a familiar blue glow around my hands, but immediately I knew something was wrong. The aura was paler than usual, and taking longer to strengthen. And then, abruptly, it disappeared, leaving three tiny sparks of blue to diminish slowly. I furrowed my brow and issued the command again, and then watched uncomfortably as the same thing happened. With uncertainty, I brought up the Playful Cub nanoprogram. Again the blue glow appeared, slower and more pale this time, and again it abruptly disappeared. Frustrated I ran through my other programs. Free Movement. Mechanical Engineering Expertise. For God's sake, Computer Literacy Proficiency! By the time I reached the last program, the glow was barely perceptible, and not one of them had the slightest effect.

I threw my head back with an exasperated sigh and stared at the ceiling. Rubbing my eyes heavily, I allowed the possibilities to filter into my head. Possibility one: I was getting low on nanobots and needed to top up. Well that was obviously ridiculous. The nanobots were self-replicating, after all, and I had slept for a long time, more than long enough for them to fill their entire quota. Possibility two: I was in some notum repulsion field. Slightly more plausible, but those things were expensive, even if it only covered a room of this size. Were my enemies that powerful? Possibility three: I wasn't even on Rubi-Ka.

I pulled my hands away from my face as the full meaning of that possibility came to me. It was more plausible than anything else, and it would explain the circumstances.

This thought shifted my face into a frown. If I was indeed away from home... Home? I had said before that Rubi Ka was my home, but I didn't often think of it in those terms. Caledonians made a distinction between duthchas and dualchas, that is: 'sense of belonging to a particular place' and 'sense of belonging to the people of a particular place'. My duthchas, well, that very definitely belonged to Rubi-Ka. My dualchas, though – I wasn't sure. In traditional Caledonian culture, one's dualchas was inextricably linked to one's heritage. “The place from where you came, those are the people to whom you belong.” But it was the people of Rubi-Ka whom I loved, had respect for, had lived for, had fought for, had died for, many times. How could I say my dualchas was rooted in any other place? And yet again, it was true that when Cat had told me I had a duty to my home, I had mentally dichotomised. I had argued that I had no duty to that ball of rock, but at the same time I was acutely aware that I indeed did have a duty to the people there.

This circle of thought was abruptly interrupted by what I could now see on the ceiling. The black outline of a rectangle appeared almost instantly on the ceiling, and gradually began to fade to white. I was aware of other sounds reluctantly seeping into the room. And then the rectangle slid away from the ceiling, becoming a doorway to the room above.

And there he was, carrying the same malicious grin I had seen before. Anton. He appeared to be standing perfectly upright on the wall of the room – which I could now see was in fact a corridor – above, looking down on me. Consciously, I knew it had to be a gravity trick, easiest to implement in a spaceship's artificial gravity system, without having to fight against a planet's own gravity. So. I was off Rubi-Ka. But whatever I knew consciously, this apparent warping of basic geometric dimensions made me nauseous. Hyperdrive travel was sometimes whimsically referred to as “travelling without moving”. What I now experienced was motion-sickness without moving.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked directly as soon as Anton opened his mouth, deliberately interrupting him. I was trying to blink away nausea as it was; the last thing I needed was to hear his smug gloating.

I allowed myself a small inward smile when his face, even if only momentarily, showed that he had been put out of his stride by the sudden question. I had grown up with Anton, knew that his sense of drama was his weakness. On the other hand, the cautious voice in my head told me, you don't know how useful you are to him. Piss him off too much and he might simply kill you. And there'll be no reclaim for you this time!

Knowing Anton's sense of drama, I hadn't expected a prosaic, straight, useful answer from him. And so I was not altogether disappointed when he enhanced his grin and said:-

“Why, to my masters, of course, Roland. To my masters.”

Fifth Part - Friends and Allies

The strawberry sky, shot with apricot bolts of silk, demanded the attention of the three of them. Anton, Seona and Cat. My own attention was held by how perfect Cat looked set against it, how the glitter in those rapt eyes was worth so much more than the glitter in any lump of polished rock, how the way the sunset burnished her hair was more valuable than any scrap of metal. I took a relaxed breath and smiled. The four of us here, by the water, just like old times, lights on the opposite shore dancing ecstatically, sounds of fiddle, electroclarsach and joyous cheering brought muted by the warm breeze across to us. The solstice bonfire behind us radiating an almost uncomfortable warmth, but that was a good thing, too.

I lazily leaned back against the grass and let my mind wander. The word duthchas came to me. The sense of belonging to a place. This place. This was followed immediately by the sense of déja vu. Why had I been thinking about duthchas recently? I raised my eyes to the sky and bit my lower lip in concentration. No. If I had thought about that recently, the memory was elusive, like a distant sound that has no definition. The merest shadow of anxiety passed through me. This is where I belong? I thought it was somewhere else. Where? I can't remember.

Ephemeral, ethereal fists that seemed out of alignment with reality, trying to strike me, but falling short by several inches, not in any of the familiar dimensions. They evaporated when Cat turned her head to face me and smiled affectionately, as if they were intimidated by something so real.

"Credit for your thoughts?" she asked, playfully.

I grinned. "Dualchas," I replied, the one word saying everything. As soon as the sound had left my lips, my stomach froze with a wash of unanchored guilt. I frowned and shook my head.

Cat mimicked the frown. "What is it?" she asked, her voice unbearably sweetened by the concern of love.

I turned my head away, quickly, preparing to mutter "I don't know", but steeled myself. I let the tension in my shoulders slip away, then turned back to her, smiled and said "Nothing." That's the truth, after all. Isn't it?

"Nothing," I repeated, more quietly.

I was suddenly aware that Seona had said something, and Anton was laughing at the joke. Seona, I will miss you. Miss you? Are you going somewhere? I shook my head again to clear it, to bring myself back to reality. Anton is not a bad person. Not like me.

I stopped. Was I a bad person? The wind took on words. "Betrayal," it whispered.

I shivered, then, drawing on my resolve, battered down the evil thoughts and returned to the happy conversation.

***

The sky was the darkest shade of grey; almost-but-not-quite black. Perfect for the job. I dropped lightly from the perimeter wall of the distillery complex and was within the compound, landing noiselessly. Moving my left hand in a practiced motion, I adjusted a slider on my NV goggles. I cast a quick glance around. Good. There was a security detail, but each member was in the exact position I expected.

I took a deep, noiseless breath and exhaled. I could hear the pulse of my blood. My heart was pounding rapidly, adding its voice to the rhythm of the machinery.

Do the job.

Of course. The job. The job those shadowy figures demanded of me. Who were they, really? Why was I working for them?

Now's not the time. Do the job.

Insistent voices in my head pressed me on. I crept across the compound and flattened myself against the wall of the main building. The lighting in the compound was bright but patchy. Almost no need for the Secondskin camo suit they had given me.

A wooden door, brown paint peeling, rattled to my left. My hand instinctively reached for my stealth pistol. I tilted my head. A pistol? Did I even know how to use one? Why was I carrying a pistol? A sudden switch in my brain assured me that, yes, I had been trained with this. Trained by them. Of course I had. Where had that doubt come from?

The door swung open, and a stocky man in stained brown overalls stepped out into the cloak of the night, his fingers fumbling with a cigarette lighter. Just a worker. I almost recognised him. I knew his family by sight; always smiling despite the appearance of skirting the poverty line. I couldn't kill this man.

The pistol had other ideas: of it's own accord, it moved up in a fluid motion, the trigger pulled my finger back, planting a bullet silently between his eyes.

It had to be done. Of course.

I slipped through the door into a brightly-lit open-topped maze of steam and suspirant copper machinery.

This was the objective.

With a gesture, I disabled my NV goggles, then flipped open a breast pocket and pulled out a small metal cylinder with one flat edge. I knew what this was, but didn't know how I knew. It was another device from them. A viral infuser. This was the key to this job.

Scanning the surroundings for watching eyes, I crept over to a valve. Getting in was the hard part, was over. Now all I had to do was apply the viral infuser to the valve.

I allowed myself a grim smile of satisfaction as the crude display on the infuser switched from green to red, indicating that the virus had been depleted. It was in the whiskey-stream now. The guilt I had felt earlier was conspicuously absent now. Job done. Now to get out of this place.

The crack to the back of my head came without warning, and I sank into unconsciousness

***

I jerked awake and brought my hand to the base of my skull, tentatively fingering the painful point. I blinked a few times to make sure my surroundings were real. The by-now familiar white room seemed to be swaying slightly. I was lying on the wall, which had become the floor. A crash pierced the fog of sleep and the room shook.

Right. That was dream. This is real.

I was aware of Cat standing over me on the new floor, speaking, trying to help me up. But I couldn't make out her words. My ears were ringing. I staggered to my feet and rubbed my ears. The ringing subsided somewhat, but some remained. No, the ringing wasn't in my ears - it was a shipboard alarm.

"Come on," Cat ordered, pointing to what had once been the ceiling. The hidden door there was jammed half-open. I obediently followed Cat through it into the flickering, inorganic light of the hallway.

Cat looked up and down the corridor and bit her lower lip in concentration, before dashing off the right. I followed, keeping an eye over my shoulder for pursuers.

We passed through a doorway and into a large room; it looked like a recreation lounge refitted for more utilitarian purposes. The couches and the bar were still there, but the far wall was cluttered with weapon and equipment racks. Cat darted to one of the racks and pulled a gun, weighing it in her hands, while I stared out of the large viewport.

There, hanging in space, like a bird of prey sleeping with one eye open, preparing to strike, was the sleek, dangerous form of a corvette.

"That's..."

Cat turned to follow my gaze. "... the Progenitress." she finished.

Sounds flowed into one another; a crash, many heavy boots running, the hiss of a door. Cat pivoted precisely to cover the door with her gun. Twelve men in dark green body armour filed into the room, displaying their blue insignias prominently. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I had been holding.

CEIU.

Another, more familiar man in a perfectly pressed uniform, with a bearing of austere self-importance, followed them in.

"Lieutenant Duncan," I nodded. Then, before I could stop myself, sarcastically added: "My hero."

Duncan stuck out his jaw. "That's Admiral Duncan, Mr. Babilonia. This ship has been disabled and its crew - including your brother - taken into custody." He took a glance around the room. "You are lucky we managed to find you, whether you want to admit it or not."

Cat spoke up. "Lucky? We were on our way to see who was behind all this. You interrupted that, Lieutenant." She put a barb into that last word, and I couldn't help flashing a grin at her.

"And what would you have done with that information? Don't you think whoever it was would have killed you? Or imprisoned you? Do you really think you could have escaped?" Duncan retorted, clearly livid at not maintaining control of the conversation. Was it because his self-styled authority was being challenged or because we weren't fawning over how much of a hero he was?

"Nevertheless, she's right," I decided to test that question. "Out of some misguided sense of heroism, you leapt into an action without making any attempt to find out the truth of the situation." There was some satisfaction in seeing an expression of rage cross his face momentarily, before he composed himself.

"Anton will be interrogated," Duncan continued coolly. "We will find the truth in this matter. For now, get on board the Progenitress. We'll take you back to Rubi-Ka."

I nodded, and pushed past him towards the shuttle that would take me to the ship that would take me to Rubi-Ka, to home.

Sixth Part - Shift

Before you, the holographic display comes alive, a column composed of strands of angel-light playing up and down before resolving, almost disappointingly, to a three-dimensional image. The image is transparent and insubstantial. So is the man it displays, as if any joie de vivre that had once inhabited his body had been ripped violently out. Could this really be Roland?

"My fr-" he begins. "No, after what I've learned, I don't feel I may call you my friends. When you've heard what I have to say," there is no inflection in his voice, only dry vowels and consonants. "You will agree."

"I apologise for my disappearance. As you can probably see from my attire," he gestures to his dull grey jumpsuit bearing the text Caledon Custodial Facilities in square-form, imposing white letters, "I am on Caledon. A place I can no more call home than I can call you my friends. I am in prison and am about to tell you the reason."

"I have betrayed everyone."

"Everything that happened to Caledon, from the poisoning of the whiskey to the quarantine, was all my fault. I told you that my brother was responsible, and I did believe that. The psychiatrists here tell me that was bleed-over from a suppressed memory, probably a result of the defence mechanisms of the ego in conflict with a brain implant's operational output. So they say. They haven't been able to tell me what eventually caused the truth to come out - perhaps a misfire in my subconscious, they think, though my pet theory is that my symbiant overcame the ego's defences by means of a more subtle attack than any implant could manage."

"Of course, according to my erstwhile story, it was Cat that told me about my brother's complicity in the Caledon incident, not an invention of my own. I have, however, been given compelling evidence by the psychiatrists that Catriona was never more than a figment of my imagination; a hallucinatory excuse to avoid the overwhelming guilt I would have felt. The guilt that I now feel."

"It was my own hand that injected the virus into the whiskey, into Caledon's very bloodstream. Thanks to my regained memories, we now know that I was under the employ of the Veya Corporation, a rival whiskey producer. A producer," Roland cracks the first smile, and it vanishes as soon as it had appeared, "of inferior whiskey. Justice proceedings are currently taking place through the ICC. They're of course protesting their innocence, but I'm sure the truth will out."

"Due to the seriousness of my crime, I expect to be here for a long time, but I've already faced and accepted the greater punishment: that of belonging nowhere."

Roland's eyes flicker to some unseen point momentarily, and he sighs heavily.

"Time's up. I just felt you should know all this."

Without a goodbye, the lightfield collapses, and Roland disappears.

The arc is finished, although I haven't written up the ending. Suffice to say, although part six seems like the mother of all retcons, it's actually part six itself that ends up getting retconned, ultimately restoring the continuity of the previous parts. Some notes: the Confederation of Neo-Scottish Planets is actually part of Funcom's universe, although there isn't much about it apart from a mention in the description on a whiskey bottle. I figured Caledon would be a reasonable name for one of those planets, though it's also an acknowledgement of what Anarchy Online owes to Dune (that is, a reference to Caladan, the seat of House Atreides), along with the name of Lieutenant Duncan and the use of the phrase "travelling without moving".

Actual letter from the Student Awards Agency for Scotland

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 00:05:32 GMT

Some of you may have a similar letter.

Video time

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 19:25:29 GMT

I was watching ladypat's wonderful video for Momus' Your Fat Friend:-

(I particularly like the bit at 1:14).

I then discovered that ladypat also did a video for Fast Ood Rockers' Song 4 Kylie (I'm in Love with a Girl in a Time Machine):-

This of course made me want to watch the wonderful video for The KLF's Justified and Ancient (Stand By The JAMS) (which does in fact contain footage of the video for The Timelords' Doctorin' the Tardis):-

For some reason, maybe the country connection or that the KLF had admitted to having "Pet Shop Boys infatuations", this made me want to watch the video for Pet Shop Boys' Always on my Mind, featuring a great performance by Joss Ackland (though he says he didn't much like doing that video):-

I love this video. I'm sure Neil, Chris and Joss are all actually playing different aspects of the same character, and the implications of that kind of make the video make sense, as surreal as it seems without that understanding. It's perhaps significant that the only things the driver says are "Where are you from?" and "Where are you going?", while Neil plays the youthful trying to come to terms with a lost relationship, and Joss plays the mature acceptance coupled with the euphoria of being free. But at the end he says "You went away. It should make me feel better, but I don't know how I'm going to get through." It's quite clear the 'you' here was not the Pet Shop Boys, but the same 'you' that Neil was singing about in the song.

COMPLETELY unrelated, I had never seen this video before, but the new Weebl and Bob told me to watch it. I like it:-

Reasons to be Militant #2

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 17:04:53 GMT

Well, so much for being 'bite-size', this one is actually quite long. Today's reason to be militant is the way atheists are portrayed by the extremes of religion. This one comes from Ray Comfort's blog (and I have to thank FSTDT for bringing it to my attention). Ray has concocted what he calls an "atheist starter kit" to help people be good little atheists — in other words generalisations and strawmen designed to demonise atheists. Fortunately, Ray has thoughtfully put it in list form so I can address each point one by one.

If you are a beginner atheist, there's a belief system you should embrace and a language you should learn, or you will find yourself in trouble. Here are ten suggestions for the novice:

1. Whenever you are presented with credible evidence for God's existence, call it a "straw man argument," or "circular reasoning." If something is quoted from somewhere, label it "quote mining."

First, evidence for God is never a straw man argument (although this view of atheists is). A straw man argument is an inaccurate portrayal of an opponent to make said opponent easily ridiculed. How could evidence for God, credible or otherwise, ever fall into that category?

Second, circular reasoning is a logical system in which the conclusion is included in the premise. While technically logically valid, it is fallacious for a reason; namely that it doesn't tell you anything new, and is especially wrong if the premise (which is also the conclusion) is a bare assertion. If you're using circular reasoning, you should be prepared to be called out on it.

Quote mining is a little more difficult, as both the party doing the quoting and the party accusing the quoter of quote-mining are, at face value, making assumptions about what the original author intended. This can be resolved by supplying contextual evidence, however, and quote-mining of the like seen in the header of your blog page is also an appeal to authority, which is fallacious whether or not your context is adequate.

In summary, most atheists only use these terms when they're appropriate, and then only if they understand them. Atheists who misuse these terms will often be corrected by other atheists.

2. When a Christian says that creation proves that there is a Creator, dismiss such common sense by saying "That's just the old watchmaker argument."

Well, isn't it? The watchmaker argument is that design implies a designer. This is in itself reasonable, however you are making the assertion that there is any design, without any corroborating evidence. Your premise is bare assertion, therefore your argument is unsound. In what way is that "dismissive of common sense"?

3. When you hear that you have everything to gain and nothing to lose (the pleasures of Heaven, and the endurance of Hell) by obeying the Gospel, say "That's just the old 'Pascal wager.'"

Well, it is Pascal's Wager. Why shouldn't we call a spade a spade? Problems with Pascal's Wager include:-

Presupposition that you have chosen the right god. (Come on, even Homer Simpson could figure that one out: "And what if we picked the wrong religion? Every week, we're just making God madder and madder!" from the episode 'Homer the Heretic'.)
Reliance on infinite utility of a given choice (in game theory and decision theory parlance), which ultimately leads to any course of action being as good as any other, as long as you believe.
Assumption that God rewards belief. It's just as reasonable (i.e. not very) to assume that God gave us faculties of critical thinking because He wanted us to use them, and that He only rewards people who do use them, rather than people who believe what their pastor says.

By suggesting that atheists are somehow wrong for calling this argument what it actually is, you're saying that atheist arguments should be dismissed out of hand, and that your arguments should be taken seriously — for no other reason than your say-so. Which screws the pooch as far as a level playing field is concerned and tacitly admits that your argument requires the unfair head start.

4. You can also deal with the "whoever looks on a woman to lust for her, has committed adultery with her already in his heart," by saying that there is no evidence that Jesus existed. None.

Not quite sure what you're getting at, here. Are you saying that all atheists are adulterous? Or porn-fiends? Whatever you're saying here, it sounds like you're saying that you Christians have a monopoly on morality, and that atheists are amoral. Which couldn't be more wrong. Even a hardcore 'evolutionist' (if such a thing exists) knows that, having evolved as a gregarious species, there is plenty of reason for us to have developed morality without recourse to the explanation of a stern sky-daddy giving us rules. The difference is that we try not to make guilt a central part of our belief system, and even to glorify it. Furthermore, while atheists generally agree that Jesus was not divine, there is no such agreement as to whether or not he existed, so this portrayal of atheists is an overgeneralisation.

5. Believe that the Bible is full of mistakes, and actually says things like the world is flat. Do not read it for yourself. That is a big mistake. Instead, read, believe, and imitate Richard Dawkins. Learn and practice the use of big words. "Megalo-maniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully" is a good phrase to learn.

Many of us atheists do read the Bible for ourselves. In fact, some atheists (though I wouldn't be so self-aggrandising as to include myself among them) know it better than a lot of Christians do. That's why I know that God created the light (Genesis 1:3) before He created the Sun (Genesis 1:14-16). That's why I know that Isaiah 40:22 describes the Earth as "a circle", which is inherently two-dimensional, hence flat. That's why I know that God made the animals before man (Genesis 1:24-27) but also made man before the animals (Genesis 2:15-22). These verses also state that God made man and woman at the same time and that God made woman after man, and created the animals in between. I've read Richard Dawkins. I don't believe everything he says and I don't imitate him. And what's wrong with using big words? (Incidentally, 'megalomaniacal' doesn't have a hyphen you encephalopathetic, anti-intellectual, obdurate, intransigent, snivelling yet egocentric sycophant to God.)

6. Say that you were once a genuine Christian, and that you found it to be false. (The cool thing about being an atheist is that you can lie through your teeth, because you believe that are no moral absolutes.) Additionally, if a Christian points out that this is impossible (simply due to the very definition of Christianity as one who knows the Lord), just reply "That's the 'no true Scotsman fallacy.'" PLEASE NOTE: It cannot be overly emphasized how learning and using these little phrases can help you feel secure in dismissing common sense.

I personally don't believe that lying is ever right, which is why I have such a big problem with persistently dishonest folks such as you and your ilk. Case in point: your flat assertion of what atheists believe or don't believe, and your redefinition of Christianity. What's that? Oh, your definition of Christianity is right, and the normal definition is wrong? Well, then I'd be quite justified in calling that a "No True Scotsman" argument. It's not about learning "little phrases"; it's about learning the actual concepts behind them, which takes more than just a "read and believe" approach. One must understand them, and that requires for them not to contradict actual reason.

7. Believe that nothing is 100% certain, except the theory of Darwinian evolution. Do not question it. Believe with all of your heart that there is credible scientific evidence for species-to-species transitional forms. When you make any argument, pat yourself on the back by concluding with "Man, are you busted!" That will make you feel good about yourself.

The theory of evolution is not 100% certain. You really don't understand this 'science' thing, do you? New evidence will cause the theory to be adapted. That said, it's almost certain (note: almost) that there will be no new evidence which completely disproves it, only evidence which gives cause for minor alterations. There is credible evidence. That's why I believe evolution to be true. I don't believe it to feel good about myself. How the fuck would that work, anyway? Yeah, evolution, which indicates that we are nothing more than animals is designed to make us feel good about ourselves, while Christianity, which teaches that we are the thing God cares about most of all in the entire universe, isn't. Suuuure.

8. Deal with the threat of eternal punishment by saying that you don't believe in the existence of Hell. Then convince yourself that because you don't believe in something, it therefore doesn't exist. Don't follow that logic onto a railway line and an oncoming train.

This is just a variation of Pascal's Wager (above) and as such almost isn't worth addressing directly. I will say, however, that lack of belief in something doesn't automatically mean it exists (I mean, what the fuck?), and there is plenty of evidence that the oncoming train is real. Now provide similar evidence that Hell is real (hint: the drilling in Siberia was a hoax, therefore doesn't count).

9. Blame Christianity for the atrocities of the Roman Catholic church--when it tortured Christians through the Spanish Inquisition, imprisoned Galileo for his beliefs, or when it murdered Moslems in the Crusades.

I don't blame Christianity for those things, I use them as examples of what can and has been done in the name of Christianity: not arguing for why Christianity is bad, but arguing for why anything motivated by Christianity (or any religion) being protected and above question is dangerous. If you could maybe just get your head out of ~~your arse~~ your own dichotomistic worldview, you would see that making a point of attack is not necessarily demonising the thing you're using to make that point. (Oh, and it took the Roman Catholic Church until 1992 to apologise for imprisoning Galileo, so it's not as if that's limited to "back in the olden days".)

10. Finally, keep in fellowship with other like-minded atheists who believe as you believe, and encourage each other in your beliefs. Build up your faith. Never doubt for a moment. Remember, the key to atheism is to be unreasonable. Fall back on that when you feel threatened. Think shallow, and keep telling yourself that you are intelligent. Remember, an atheist is someone who pretends there is no God.

This is just an outright lie. Just about the only thing you can get all atheists to agree on is that they don't believe there is a god. It's not a faith, it's a lack thereof. Doubt and questioning is central to the belief-systems of many (not all) atheists. As is reason, and saying "the key to atheism is to be unreasonable" is just a flat-out personal attack — pretty unreasonable in itself. As is describing atheists' thoughts as 'shallow'. Finally, the definition of 'pretend' is "to make believe; to act as if, or give the impression that, something is the case when it is not". Well, in order to show that it's not the case, you'll have to provide credible evidence, so let's go back to the start of this list.

Ray Comfort is an influential Christian author and television host. This isn't some random fundie. This is someone people actually listen to, which is why his dishonest and inflammatory claims about atheism are a reason to be militant.

Reasons to be Militant #1

Thu, 07 Aug 2008 21:42:53 GMT

People often ask "Why are atheists so angry? What's religion ever done to them? Where's the harm?"

So I'm going to make a series of posts showing what we have to be angry about. While this post on Greta Christina's blog is a fantastic piece that says it all far better than I could, it's also quite a lot to read, to the point where I suspect that anyone who doesn't already agree might not bother. With that in mind, I'm going to take a different strategy and try to be as 'bite-size' as possible. And with that in mind, I really should get on with it.

The first reason to be militant comes from (surprise!) the font of all stupidity, YouTube, in a comment on this video.

While it's encouraging that there are enough reasonable people on YouTube to give this guy six thumbs down, it's very discouraging that anyone could say this in the first place, and have the tried and tested technique of using religious proscription to legitimise their personal prejudice ready to hand. It's not that all religious people are like this; far from it! It's that religion enjoys such a protected status in our culture that using it in this way, to justify bigotry, is endemic, and that anyone who questions such use is breaking a major taboo.

Not my government

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 02:27:54 GMT

I just saw this report on The Register. WTF is this shit?

MPs have called on the government to install a YouTube Czar to oversee user-generated content sites and better labels for video games.

The Committee of Culture, Media and Sport, in its report Harmful Content on the Internet and in Video Games, said it was unconvinced by claims from sites like YouTube that they could not check on uploaded content: "We recommend that proactive review of content should be standard practice for sites hosting user-generated content." The report said: "Even if review of every bit of content is not practical, that is not an argument to undertake none at all."

MPs called for the terms and conditions of such websites to be more prominently displayed and for direct links for reporting abuses to police and support organisations. The report said: "We are also concerned that user-generated video content on sites such as YouTube does not carry any age classification, nor is there a watershed before which it cannot be viewed."

The politicians accepted that self-regulation has had a beneficial effect but were concerned at "a lack of consistency and transparency of practice, and the public needs the assurance that certain basic standards will be met". The committee proposed tighter self-regulation, "under which the industry would speedily establish a self-regulatory body to draw up agreed minimum standards based upon the recommendations of the UK Council for Child Internet Safety, monitor their effectiveness, publish performance statistics, and adjudicate on complaints".

The committee even suggests that this body might also regulate online piracy, peer-to-peer services and Phorm-type advertising.

It called for industry standards to be set for take-down times. MPs commended Microsoft for providing a direct link to the Child Exploitation and Online Protection Centre from within Windows Live Messenger and for putting parental controls into the X-box.

On video games the committee seems to add another level of confusion. There are two systems for labelling video games - one backed by the games industry across Europe called PEGI and one created by the British Board of Film Classification which the committee supports. This is at odds with the findings of Dr Tanya Byron, who recomended a blending of the two systems.

The report summary notes, apparently without irony, that "several Government departments have an interest in this field, and it does seem that there is scope for improved co-ordination of activity between them".

The talking shop also called for the UK council for Child Internet Safety to discuss with the Ministry of Justice whether the law on assisted suicide laws were strong enough and to take action to block sites which encourage suicide.

The report is available here. ®

Where do we begin? This is a government committee, and they don't even know the law? "Even if review of every bit of content is not practical, that is not an argument to undertake none at all." Actually, it is. It's all or nothing. If YouTube reviews some content to make a decision as to whether or not to host it, it becomes a publisher, and therefore culpable for any content it hosts (even that which it hasn't reviewed) which breaks the law, as opposed to in its current form, where it doesn't review anything and is therefore protected as a "common carrier" (like ISPs and telephone companies) and is not responsible for the content it hosts. Can there really be someone in the government who is so uninformed about how the laws of that selfsame government work? Someone who should be fired.

Direct links for reporting abuses to the police? There is a direct link to the police. It's called phoning them and telling them about it. This has always worked. If it ain't broke... Age classification of content on Youtube - who's going to classify it? It's immensely subjective, and if YouTube did it themselves they again couldn't retain their common carrier protection. How is the government going to support the man-hours necessary to do that? There's an awful lot of video to sit through. Especially if you're talking not just about YouTube but also about YouTube-like sites. And "a watershed before which it cannot be viewed". A watershed. On the internet. While this is technically feasible (YouTube already allows and restricts certain content based on country, so implementing a per-country watershed would be possible), it's (a) not necessarily a good idea, (b) only works for YouTube - it just doesn't scale to cover the entire internet and (c) is a completely ass-backwards and overcomplicated way of doing things anyway when parental content-filters do the same job only more simply. As a 25-year-old man with no children, should my access to user-requested content be restricted to certain times of the day, completely breaking the entire concept of user-requested content and effectively castrating (I'm writing this after 9pm so I'm allowed to use that word) the internet? Someone in government has no idea how the internet works, and in the 21st century that's unacceptable. Another one who should be fired.

There is a lack of consistency in self-regulation? Oh, really? There is very little variation in self-regulation policies from site to site on mainstream sites. If you want to codify that lack of variation, go ahead, but to claim that there is no consistency makes you sound like someone who's never even been on the internet, so you should be fired, too. Perhaps some sites are a little less regulated, but so what? Those are the sites where people who know what they're doing end up and aren't in need of so much protection.

Regulation of online piracy, peer-to-peer services and Phorm-type advertising sounds like a good thing, if it was regulated by anyone who had any fucking idea whatsoever what they were talking about. Sure, let's regulate piracy. Let's throw huge punitive fines at Sony BMG for their use of pirated software. Regulation of peer-to-peer services is great if you realise that peer-to-peer has legitimate uses which, given what else I've seen from that report, I'm guessing these politicians don't. Regulation of Phorm-type advertising sounds great, but why regulate it? Why not just criminalise it and get it over with? It is, simply speaking, an invasion of privacy. I quote from BT Retail Technologies' external validation report of 121Media's (Phorm's) PageSense technology:-

PageSense proved to be almost entirely transparent to end users. Only 15-20 trialists (0.1% of the trial userbase) identified the presence of the system and had a negative reaction. To ensure 100% transparency, the following work is planned:

Translation: "some of our customers found out what we were doing and didn't like it, so we'd better make sure none of our customers find out what we're doing". Yeah, fuck you very much, too, BT. I'm glad you're not my ISP (ever since they were bought out by Tiscali, Pipex hasn't been great, but at least they respect my privacy). Still, it's understandable that they don't want customers to find out about it, given that according to the report, during the trial BT "committed at least 18,875,324 allegedly illegal acts of interception and modification". Let's take a good look at that word again: Il-le-gal. Phorm uses a user's browsing history, supplied by the ISP, to sell targeted ads. For more information, go here, not here, which makes it all sound very nice and doesn't really address the issues. For more information on one company associated with the use of Phorm, go to www.datapimpingservices.com.

But enough about Phorm, what else about this government report? The rest of El Reg's story seems fine. I can agree with the committee on supporting BBFC classification of video games over PEGI, for while the PEGI system works, the classification is ultimately decided by the software publishers based on PEGI guidelines, rather than by PEGI themselves. Furthermore, given the option of educating parents on a separate classification system for video games or just making games use a classification system the parents already know, the latter does seem like a better choice. The only thing that concerns me is the shrill alarmist sensationalism that surrounds video games. There's already been some talk of some games being rated 18-R, meaning that they can only be purchased at specially licenced sex shops. This is completely unjustifiable if games are to be classified in the same way as movies: the push for 18-R was brought on by some Conservatards whining "oh, it's very violent..." Yes, and very violent movies are given an 18 rating, not an 18-R, so why shouldn't it be the same for games? Morons.

The blocking of sites that encourage suicide is worrying. It's an ethical enough minefield to begin with, and I really don't know whether or not such sites should be allowed. Suicide is not, and never has been illegal in Scotland, and it hasn't been a crime in England and Wales since the 1961 Suicide Act. That same act criminalises assisted suicide, but in Scotland, again, the law differs, and assisting a suicide can bring a charge of murder or culpable homicide, but might not: this is decided on a case-by-case basis. If assisting a suicide is, in some cases, not a crime in Scotland, then surely offering words of encouragement and maybe some details on the most effective way to do it falls into those cases. Therefore, if it's not illegal in Scotland, then the sites surely shouldn't be blocked here, but only (potentially) in England and Wales, and I'm not even sure they should be there. Hopefully the Ministry of Justice will see things the same way. But it's not just about suicide. If I may allow myself the luxury of a minor logical fallacy, when you start talking about blocking one type of site, what's to stop you talking about blocking another? And how long before that escalates to the blocking of sites critical of the government?

In related news, it seems that the arguing for regulation of online piracy in the above report could lead to pirates being banned from the internet, according to a New Scientist news story. I'm not, in principle, against a crackdown on piracy. However, any such crackdown must be accompanied by the complete illegalisation of DRM technology (which, if the crackdown works, won't be needed anymore anyway). As a Linux user, I have a sizable collection of music I've paid for and can't even listen to. To get around this, I have three options.

Burn the music to CD, then rip it to MP3, thus circumventing the DRM technology, though suffering a loss of quality.

Go to an online store which doesn't use DRM technology and buy the music again, or go out and buy the CD.

Illegally download the music.

Option 1 is unacceptable. I've paid for the music, not for a shitty quality bootleg of the music, so I should get to listen to the music in its original quality. Option 2 is also unacceptable. Obviously if I've already paid for the music, I shouldn't have to pay for it again, but it's also sometimes not even possible, since some record labels persist in not allowing their music to be sold DRM-free. The only remotely fair option is option 3. By using the only remotely fair option if this idea goes ahead, I could be banned from the internet. Does that make any kind of sense at all?