Every (Five-Legged Coney Island Freak) Dog Shall Have Its Day (in Court)

I came back from Coney Island intact after last night’s concert, but after his own departure from Coney Island, this poor dog now has as many owners and would-be protectors pulling at it as it has limbs.

If I haven’t said so before, by the way, one thing I find fascinating about modern freak shows and sideshows is how much their tone (in many cases) has fused with anarchism. Once the realm of strongmen and gypsy mystics, the sideshows lately seem dominated by tattooed, risk-taking young folk who you could easily imagine might otherwise have formed a punk band — the slightly more dangerous analogues of the Weimar-toned burlesque performers who seem to be all over NYC in recent years, ostensibly promoting a sort of judgment-free, pro-bisexual Third Wave feminism by showing their tatas while being ever so slightly fat, cynical, or drug-addled, as if any of that’s going to make a man stop highly prioritizing the tatas and corsets.

A few years ago, I saw the Coney Island sideshow performers, the s&m-like but comedic Bindlestiff Family Circus (including the truly amazing bullwhip-work of Philomena Bindlestiff — and the complete destruction of a teddy bear by a skilled knife-thrower), something more arty and European along the same lines that I can’t quite remember the name of that was put on down at South Street Seaport, and the Jackass-like Circus Apocalypse (opening for a Church of the Sub-Genius “devival” meeting) with a clever but alarming bit in which a man’s piercings-lipholes were used to create the illusion his mouth was being spontaneously sewn shut by his co-performer. They are all, I can safely say, a bit scary — but then, I always loved it when the carnival came to the Norwich, CT area when I was a kid.

80s on the Beach, Leaf on the 60s

VS.

Tonight brings a free Pat Benatar/Debbie Harry concert at Coney Island, so I assume you’re going.  In other 80s news, I bought a DVD of Krush Groove the other day, admittedly largely because the lovely Sheila E is in it, but it also inspired me to look up whether Run-DMC member Jam-Master Jay’s killers had been caught (sort of), which in turn led me to realize that one can spend a long, depressing time on Wikipedia just following links to all the hiphop folk who have apparently tried to kill each other at one time or another.  Not all rappers are as harmless as Bert and Ernie.

(I, of course, am more of a New Wave guy — and tempted to buy the CD 80s Hits Stripped!, containing such acoustic wonders as a live version of “Metro” by Berlin.  My own first New Wave album would be entitled I Am Unmanned: Like a Space Mission, and my later, less popular techno band will be called Hypnopatamus.)

Those tempted to think the 1960s was a better decade might want to consider reading Jonathan Leaf’s disillusioning book Politically Incorrect Guide to the Sixties, just out this week (he also happens to the be the conservative playwright I mentioned in an earlier entry who lives near a Manhattan block notorious for weekly confrontations between cops behind little barricades and drunk kids, albeit far more sedate ones than the oft-violent but rosily-recalled 60s saw).

My parents, neither hippies nor (at least back in the day) conservatives, once casually told me something that forever altered my perception of the 60s — and contributed substantially to my general suspicion of powerful media narratives: They said that for most people (and most people were never hippies, no matter what the documentaries might suggest), the 60s was a rather frightening time marked by riots and massive urban fires caused by arsonists.  That doesn’t mean they think nothing good happened then,  but it’s worth remembering it wasn’t all incense and peppermint.

Pee-wee, Fall Guy, and Class Warrior

It is an odd coincidence, in a way, that I have just today learned that Pee-wee Herman and his entire TV show cast of characters are headed back to the stage for live shows in L.A. — while learning very recently that Heather Thomas, one of the two fabulous babes from Fall Guy (the other being Markie Post, also seen on Night Court), later went on to write forty screenplays, selling only one — called School Slut — which was never produced (sadly).

I say it is a coincidence because if you combine Pee-wee Herman and pin-up girl Thomas, you sort of get multimedia comedy sensation Jen Dziura, who performed her one-woman show about What Philosophy Majors Do After College this past Friday, as fellow theatre-goer Michel Evanchik and I witnessed.

SPORTS SECTION: After the performance, Michel talked me into watching baseball, despite my complete lack of knowledge about sports, and it ended up being the game in which the Yankees beat the Red Sox — apparently a rival sporting franchise — with the game’s only run, after fifteen innings. My games-watched to games-worth-recounting ratio is thus pretty solid. With luck, this will enable me to go through another decade or so of conversations with the masses without having to watch another game.

And if my sports section sounded a bit elitist, it may be because I am a product of the Ivy League. Or at least, a huge element of Jen’s show was coping as a rural poor kid from the South with immersion in the upper-crusty Ivy League (Dartmouth in her case, but not so different a setting from Yale, where North Carolinian Helen went, or Brown, where I went, albeit from nearby rural Connecticut). The performance was a great, funny blend of autobiography, class analysis, and a capsule history of Western philosophy, which happens to have been my major as well. Here’s hoping Jen is able to take it on the road to colleges (and philosophy majors) across the land, including the targeted Ivies.

And as if Heather Thomas weren’t enough 80s iconography for one week, tomorrow I’m off to Coney Island to see Pat Benatar and Debbie Harry (plus the Donnas) in a free concert, along with fellow 80s buff Michael Malice, whose off-the-record social gatherings for media folk New York Times recently declared the cure to Twitter (whereas the Manhattan Project gatherings for right-of-center folk mentioned in my right margin are only the cure to, like, the DailyKos).

Media Bailout?

You hear occasional talk of some of the “stimulus” spending being used to shore up faltering old-media organizations (as Saif Ammous reminds me), an idea that should be considered alarming. If, say, Bloomberg succeeded in steering a billion dollars of government money to the New York Times, do we really believe there’d be no risk of it affecting their coverage of him? (It’s bad enough they have to keep in mind he’s mayor — or that, say, Disney and the governor of Florida are aware of their mutual dependence.)

Free speech in an ostensibly-intelligent society must never depend upon the capacity of the written-about to legally humiliate or control the writers.

Compounding the injustice if old media got bailout money, of course, is the fact that they suck. Take, for example, the recent controversy over the Times’ hilarious bungling of (ACSH associate) Walter Cronkite’s obituary, complete with nigh-parodic errors such as getting the dates of the MLK assassination and moon landing wrong, along with the assertion Cronkite stormed the beach at Normandy. The Times’ own (admittedly great) article about the fiasco also happens to feature a cameo by gruff but lovable editor Sam Sifton, who is not only the grandson of theologian Reinhold Niebuhr but was my editor at New York Press over a decade ago, so you might want to be worried about my training and background, too — trust no one (and be suspicious of things like a supposedly objective news organization like Reuters inviting its readers to join their crusade against global warming).

Perhaps more important, don’t allow the government to bribe these institutions (private institutions bribing politicians when necessary, to get the politicians out of the way, I actually have a great deal of sympathy for, but not the other way around).

On a related note, I often recall a completely bland-sounding summary I once read of an American sociology text, described as being intended to clear up a “misunderstanding” some Americans have about the press. We sometimes think the press in the U.S. is “free” and the press in many foreign countries “unfree.” In fact, the book endeavored to explain, these other countries simply believe that journalists must be licensed and approved by the government before they are allowed to publish, a simple case of equally free peoples using the term “free” differently. This is, of course, Chinese-level sophistry and nihilistic cultural relativism to boot, but perhaps the publishers of that book will nonetheless get some bailout money.

Sparks, Siouxsie, and Weird Al

I stuck a pic of the MTV astronaut on yesterday’s entry, which shouldn’t strike anyone as too odd.  Not only is it an obvious symbol of Gen X solidarity, it’s also sort of sci-fi + rock + capitalism + science all at the same time, not a bad summary of the good things in life mentioned yesterday.

And while we’re contemplating the rock of ages, here’s a Sparks song, complete with Darkness-like falsetto, in the mid-70s — “This Town Ain’t Big Enough for Both of Us” — and here’s the same song being covered in the mid-80s by Siouxsie and the Banshees.

That’s just one of many great covers on the Siouxsie album Through the Looking Glass, on which she proves, I think, that she can do songs by several bands better than the originals, including Roxy Music, Iggy Pop, and the Doors.  If it were “fair” to count a covers album, it might be my favorite album.  (But does anyone do the Doors as well as Weird Al with his “CraigsList” parody, especially the part about the styrofoam peanuts?)

It’s probably for the best that this recent live cover Siouxsie did (solo) of Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made for Walkin’” isn’t on Through the Looking Glass, but you might enjoy it, too.  It’s better than the Fixx’s odd cover of that song from the bizarre When Pigs Fly covers compilation, much as I love the Fixx.

And finally, to remind us of Michael Jackson’s far-flung influence on the culture: “Fashion Zombies” and “Super-Rad.”

Retro-Journal, Condensed Version

Before meeting me DOWNSTAIRS at Doc Waton’s at 11:30am today for birthday brunch, you might want a quick recap of my life’s four rich decades, just so you’re up to speed:

•1970s: sci-fi

•1980s: alternative rock

•1990s: libertarianism

•00s: scientific skepticism, debate

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS:

1. Time well spent?

2. Next step?

Seasteading, Bus-Riding, and a Pedestrian Thought

At last night’s seasteading meet-up and the previous night’s speech on the topic, I thought the most reassuring phrase used was “cruise ship,” since that’s a model for cityscale floating life that most people — even the elderly — can get onboard with, so to speak (and speaking of the elderly, remember I’m celebrating my fortieth birthday tomorrow at Doc Watson’s at 11:30am, if you’re interested in brunch or a very early drink).

I took a less glamorous but highly useful means of travel, the Vamoose bus, to go from DC to NYC this past Sunday, and after they moved us onto a second bus mid-trip due to mechanical problems, I was surprised to find the occupants in the second bus in the midst of watching (and hearing, without any headphones being necessary) the recent movie Crossing Over (about border police and immigration issues), complete with swearing, racial conflict, multiple convincingly-depicted deaths-by-headshot, and all-but-genitals sex (followed abruptly by deaths-by-headshot).

Unless we were interlopers on a bus full of people who (unlike us) had been forewarned about the graphic entertainment, that was a strange thing to foist on one’s passengers. Luckily, I was able to use my powers of social atomism to hunker down in a book about property rights in America called In Pursuit of Happiness while listening to my iPod. Bus-borne society will have to fend for itself.

But if one wanted to simply walk between cities, I wonder, how difficult would that be to do nowadays? I mean, assuming you didn’t care about the time spent or the provisions needed, could it even be done without having to race across a highway on foot at some point? Can you simply walk, with at least as much comfort as a hiker in the woods feels, from, say, New York City to Boston in 2009 without at some point having someone scream “Get offa da off-ramp, ya stupid idiot!”? How complete is the grid?

One last thing about the seasteading speech: There were people in attendance from Sealand, the offshore platform near England that declared itself a sovereign nation decades ago amid squabbles with the British government over pirate radio broadcasts (those squabbles being the topic of this month’s the November movie The Boat That Rocked, which I may have to see despite being warned that it transposes political parties to make Tory pols look like the only ones who wanted to shut down pirate radio — can’t have leftists and Labour looking authoritarian, after all — might confuse the kids!). I just love that these things are all connected.

Demon-Fetus Movies and More

Tonight at 7: a seasteading meet-up at Gossip (more on that topic tomorrow, most likely).

Tonight at 9:30: Jen Dziura, recovered from food poisoning and doing comedy at People’s Theatre (154 W. 29, 2nd floor).

I’ll attend both, getting a dash of seafaring politics and comedy-philosophy — but let’s get back to Native American mysticism for a moment, alluded to in Wednesday’s first entry.

I don’t know if it portends the end of the world, but Dave Whitney mentioned the existence of the terrible-sounding horror movie The Suckling (about a monstrous aborted fetus running amok), which in turn reminded me of the 70s thriller The Manitou, about a woman who checks into the hospital with what appears to be a tumor, which turns out to be an evil Native American spirit-fetus eager to be born into our world (a health fear).

Somewhat classier — and even more disturbing to my young mind — was the thriller The Demon Seed (parodied on a Simpsons Halloween episode) about a mechanized house that imprisons the woman who lives there, while her husband’s away, and eventually figures out how to impregnate her, giving birth to a house/human cyborg (I watched this at about 1am one night, having no idea what I was in for, and it was quite creepy).

Only days ago did I learn that popular (libertarian) master-hack Dean Koontz wrote the original novel, from the woman’s perspective, and two decades later, rewrote it from the house’s perspective.  But what’s really weird is that just two days ago I then discovered, upon walking into Barnes & Noble, that the new edition of that later version of the novel has just been released, with an afterword from Koontz about the moviemaking experience — and a final line about real-life governments being even creepier.

In a further coincidence, I was in Barnes & Noble in the first place buying one final gift for the thirteenth birthday of the only child I’ve been buying presents for, the first child born of any of my college pals.  I figured I’d treat him as unique to avoid going broke buying gifts for everyone — and by cutting him off at age thirteen, I not only commemorate the transition to manhood in the traditions of (one quarter of) his ancestors, I get out of this gift-giving pattern before his four year-old sister notices I’m not giving her anything.

The lad in question has good taste, I think, since he recommended to his dad this video of Coach Z rapping — and his dad noted it reminded him of this new piece from the Onion I enjoyed.  The kid also shares my birth-month, and remember that you can celebrate it with me this Sunday, August 9, at Doc Watson’s at 11:30am.

I hope and expect to see many more years — and I do not expect the imminent end of the world, but I gotta say, there’s something weird going on with the dragonflies in Manhattan, which seem to be getting as big as Twinkies and occasionally thudding loudly against my office window.  I almost suspect that some dragonfly-gigantism gene suppressed since prehistoric times may be reasserting itself.  Certainly, the size of these beasts makes it easier to believe their ancestors had two-foot wingspans.

Perhaps to really observe the evolution of the dragonflies, I should pay for one of the meditative “time travel” sessions my very New Agey acquaintance Diana Ferrante is offering, which she now offers over the phone to save time — but then, if you can do time travel — well, best not to think about it too much, to paraphrase the second Austin Powers movie.

Start a New Country Up

As it happens, Patri Friedman — the man I’m going to hear speak at 7:30 tonight at the New York Junto (20 W. 44th St.) — has sparred a bit on the Cato Institute’s website with the man I endorsed for Arkansas state senate (and president) in my Book Selections blog entry on Tuesday, Dan Greenberg.

Each man is part of an ideological dynasty and is in some sense trying to be the family member who puts ideas into practice. Dan Greenberg is the son of conservative columnist Paul Greenberg, who helped popularize the Clinton nickname “Slick Willie” — and Dan’s trying to promote freedom by being a fiscally-sane member of the Arkansas legislature. Patri Friedman is the grandson of Nobel-winning libertarian economist Milton Friedman (lately maliciously misrepresented in the writings of vicious economic crank Naomi Klein as a villain and in a resultant campaign of stickers and posters as the “father of global misery”) and the son of even more libertarian (technically anarcho-capitalist, like me) economics writer David Friedman.

Whereas granddad Milton is associated with Chicago and father David with anarchic medieval Iceland, grandson Patri is now associated with, of all things, artificial islands — for it is only there, he has reluctantly concluded, that freedom from governments is likely to be found (and he has little patience for people like Dan who are still trying to do things the old-fashioned, electoral way). That’s what he’ll speak about tonight — and during the early-October “Ephemerisle” gathering in San Francisco Bay that Helen and I might just attend. (Brian Doherty did a great overview of this so-called “seasteading” movement in Reason.)

You might think it surprising that my somewhat paleo-leaning girlfriend would be sympathetic to something as unconventional and untraditional as newly-built countries — but then, Patri Friedman, surprisingly, is himself a paleoconservative in addition to a radically tech-loving libertarian. Tonight, maybe someone will ask him how he reconciles those tendencies.

Some more wiseass questions that will likely not be raised but would be funny include:

•Didn’t Aquaman’s defeat of the villain Black Manta, who claimed to lead a movement of black men seeking to live freely in the ocean, prove the futility of this gambit (even if DC Comics later rewrote history to suggest Black Manta was merely feigning interest in that cause, once more deferring the dreams of the black man)?

•If Gilligan destroys the radio made out of coconuts that is used to communicate between the artificial islands, how would he be punished in an anarcho-capitalist system?

•And, as my friend Nick Slepko wonders, when will Indonesia start trying to tax Singapore for all the highly-valuable land Singapore has built out of piles of garbage shipped over from Indonesia?

The more practical questions I leave to the engineers, and at the Junto, there will likely be some.

Good and Bad UFO News

Jen Dziura has the flu [UPDATE: food poisoning, it now appears -- though she still hopes to perform at the People's Theatre 9:30pm Friday], I just learned this evening — but fear not, those of you planning to attend our Debate at Lolita Bar (8pm at 266 Broome St. at Allen St., one block south of Delancey on the Lower East Side):
Arguing against the existence of extraterrestrials (and against MUFON rep Lillian Waters) will be last-minute fill-in CHRIS RUSSO (one of the recently-arrested NJ hoaxers), with late-arrival cameo by his co-hoaxer and fellow skeptic Joe Rudy. Should be good. Sorry about the change (and my thanks to Center for Inquiry’s Mike De Dora for finding the substitute double-fast).

Tonight -- and 2012

Tonight’s our UFO debate (and, as explained at that link, remember that you can also catch debater Jen’s philosophy-themed comedy performance two days from now — not to mention my birthday on Sunday).

I trust that no matter how strange the debate gets, it will make more sense than this video alleging that sparking an invasion from space by the Anti-Christ is the true purpose of the Large Hadron Collider.  Then again, with NYT reporting that the damn Collider still doesn’t work (way to go, government-funded science!), maybe it deserves to be attacked by the Anti-Christ.

The oddest part of that video, by the way, is the sincere-sounding way that the man asks at the end whether he’s committed any flaws in reasoning.  He also mentions a mythical planet, the name of which I keep mixing up with Naboo from Star Wars, that some people, inspired by the finite Mayan calendar, fear will cause the end of the world in 2012, an idea that has in turn inspired a film called 2012 by Roland Emmerich, coming out in a few months (which will give him at least two years to spend the profits).  I hope it’s at least as entertaining as that guy’s YouTube clip about the Anti-Christ.

The actual year 2012 should be an interesting test of the strength of multiple threads of our culture, since (a) mystics will have loudly predicted the end of the world, (b) greens will be clamoring for a renewal of the expiring Kyoto Treaty lest the planet catch on fire or whatever, (c) a socialistic/left-liberal U.S. president (who even some libertarians apparently voted for, to their eternal disgrace) will be up for reelection, and (d) about three major sci-fi or fantasy film franchises happen to be scheduled to reach their climaxes.  Maybe all of these trends will end then, which really would yield a different world.

Speaking of political change, Roland Emmerich isn’t the only one thinking about saving the world with giant sea-arks: As I’ll explain in more detail tomorrow morning, you can join me to hear a speech tomorrow night by Patri Friedman about “seasteading” (building artificial islands to escape government) at the New York Junto.

Book Selection of the Month (Special): Dan Greenberg Picks 25 Great Sci-Fi Stories (and Dawn)

Normally, each month I write an entry describing at least one interesting book (or short story) I read. Back at the start of 2009, I said this year would be all sci-fi and fantasy (and I said not to make any recommendations, since I didn’t want to be swamped or guilt-tripped into reading 600 things, but one man could not be deterred). I’ve ended up expanding the sci-fi mandate somewhat to cover things like utopian thinking (coming up in October) and Muppets (back in April), but to compensate, this month I’m turning the reins over to someone who’s stayed more focused on the stated task: Arkansas state representative — and now state senate candidate — Dan Greenberg.

Having known Dan for two decades, I can honestly say we’d be vastly better off if he were president, never mind Arkansas state senator, but let’s set aside speculation about his political future for a moment and see what you think of twenty-five of his choices for great (mostly short) works of speculative fiction (in no particular order):

1. Charles Stross’s “A Colder War”

2. Cordwainer Smith’s “The Game of Rat and Dragon”

3. Dan Simmons’ “The River Styx Runs Upstream”

4. Damon Knight’s “What Rough Beast”

5. Lewis Padgett’s (Kuttner and Moore) “Mimsy Were the Borogoves”

6-7. Cyril Kornbluth’s “The Little Black Bag” and “The Rocket of 1955″

8. William Powers’ “Allegory”

9-12. William Tenn “Child’s Play,” “The Brooklyn Project,” “Winthrop Was Stubborn,” and “The Liberation of Earth”

13. Philip Jose Farmer’s “Sketches Among the Ruins of My Mind”

14. Brian Aldiss’s “The Failed Men”

15-21. Robert Sheckley’s “Ticket to Tranai,” “Pilgrimage to Earth,” “The Academy,” “Sneak Previews,” “The Laxian Key,” “The Language of Love,” and “Zirn Left Unguarded, the Jenghik Palace in Flames, Jon Westerly Dead”

22. Thomas Disch’s “Casablanca”

23. Ray Bradbury’s “Sound of Thunder”

24. James Tiptree Jr.’s “Houston, Houston, Do You Read?”

25. Ted Chiang’s “Understand”

And as a bonus, let me note that Dawn Eden points out the existence of sci-fi-writing Catholic John C. Wright and even points me to a video interview with him about his conversion from atheism.

Someone should write a sci-fi story about the cosmic balance governing the lives of my ex-girlfriends and girlfriend, since I see that whereas girlfriend Helen, as noted yesterday, has resumed blogging, Dawn has recently gone on a possibly-permanent blogging hiatus (as she notes at the link above), but you can inquire via the e-address noted in the left margin of her site if you want to know what her new personal and professional projects are.

Am I going to read all the above, you ask? Well, I’m sure it’s all wonderful, but time being limited, I will instead make only this promise: I will include a novel by the prolific Mr. Sheckley (see items 15-21 — not to be confused with the pro-life-ic John C. Wright) called The Status Civilization among my October utopia-themed Book Selections. Up next month, though, it’s The Gate of Time by Philip Jose Farmer.

And what do those two books have in common? The generous Michel Evanchik gave me copies of both as gifts. And to see how he handles a debate about extraterrestrials, remember to join us tomorrow at Lolita Bar.

DEBATE AT LOLITA BAR: Have We Ever Been Visited by Extraterrestrials? (and Helen)

Wed., August 5 (8pm): “Have We Ever Been Visited by Extraterrestrials?” with:

Writer, MUFON investigator, and UFO discussion leader Lillian Waters arguing yes.

Skeptic and philosopher-comedienne (see her perform just two nights after our debate) Jen Dziura arguing no [UPDATE: Jen had food poisoning and was replaced by New Jersey UFO hoaxer extraordinaire Chris Russo, who did a fine last-minute replacement job and was recruited by Center for Inquiry head Mike De Dora].

Hosted by Todd Seavey and moderated by Michel Evanchik.

Free admission, cash bar. Basement level of Lolita Bar at 266 Broome St. at the corner of Allen St. on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, one block south and three west of the Delancey St. F, J, M, Z subway stop.

Not only does this year mark forty years of my existence (which I’ll celebrate on Sunday, August 9, at 11:30am at the bar/restaurant Doc Watson’s on Second Ave. near 78th St., if you care to join me), it marks forty years of MUFON (the Mutual UFO Network) — but do they have anything to show for it? We’ll find out at this Wednesday’s debate, which is the first of three “conspiracy”-themed Debates at Lolita Bar, before we return to just our usual level of controversy and monthly strangeness, such as arguing about public policy.

Of course, even the UFO issue has political implications. Jaime Sneider and Katherine Mangu-Ward were the first to alert me to New Jersey UFO hoaxers being punished earlier this year. They could be a debate topic unto themselves: malicious jerks? Skeptics setting (as they say they intended) a valuable example of how easily believers can be duped? Troublemakers unfairly tarring all who report siting strange things in the sky? [CLARIFICATIONS: I meant "sighting," but it kind of works either way, doesn't it? And I'm asking whether the hoaxers should be seen as malicious jerks, of course, not Jaime Sneider and Katherine Mangu-Ward.]

And if that’s not political enough for you, note the rise of “exopolitics,” which is, yes, the political philosophy that weighs how to interact with extraterrestrials and their already-earthbound agents, if any. As noted by the Washington Post, some people think Eisenhower already had to deal with this problem.

HOWEVER: If you prefer slightly more earthbound political insights, let me add that my lovely girlfriend, Helen Rittelmeyer, has resumed blogging after a summer focusing on interning at American Spectator. On the downside, now she could use another long-term gig (preferably back here in NYC!), so let me know if you have a use for a politically- , historically-, theologically-informed recent Yale alum who writes, edits, and researches like a superhuman — or perhaps a human-alien hybrid. Hey, wait a second…

Turn, Turn (Forty and Skeptical)

I recall conversations — and in some cases as-yet-unfulfilled plans — from college as though they happened yesterday, but somehow I’m turning forty one week from today (it’ll happen to you!).

•You may as well join in me in taking over the bar-restaurant Doc Watson’s that day, Sunday, August 9, 2009, at 11:30am, just by force of numbers and forming a loose brunchal birthday coalition.

And/or catch me at two other spots before that, which, come to think of it, will be a bit like retracing my steps in life:

•This Wednesday (August 5, at 8pm) our Debate at Lolita Bar will be on “Have We Ever Been Visited by Extraterrestrials?” — and like debater Lillian Waters (and a lot of people) I thought in childhood that the answer was surely yes, but I confess to turning skeptic — about everything paranormal or supernatural — as a teen (leading eventually to my science-promoting current job at ACSH)…

•…and refining that skepticism as a philosophy major, not unlike skeptical debater Jen Dziura, whose Friday (August 7, 9:30pm) one-woman comedy show about What Philosophy Majors Do After College I’ll also see this week.

I’ll remain civil and balanced as debate host, though — and a good skeptic (or philosophy major or science promoter) should always be willing to be persuaded by evidence.

And in any case, whereas in my youth I was more prone to think a handful of my philosophical opponents were crazy, I lean more and more as I (rapidly) age toward the highly tolerant and highly misanthropic opinion that virtually everyone is crazy, just in different ways.  At different points in my life, I kept thinking my opinion of humanity and the world couldn’t get any lower — yet it always does, sooner or later, and somehow I become, if anything, more happy and tolerant, I think (which is not to say I don’t find myself increasingly sick of politics, music, genre fiction, the scientific establishment, idiots, intellectuals, and common social behavior as I complete four decades).

Heck, if all goes according to plan, today I’ll probably end another weekend in DC (after a pundity party last night) with a lunch featuring my Catholic girlfriend, Helen Rittelmeyer, her Unitarian Universalist dad, and her atheist mom and me.  We can’t all be right (and thanks to everyone who responded to our appeal for a new Helen gig — some short-term work came of it, but a long-term gig for the writing, editing, and researching genius — especially in politics or history, and especially if located back in NYC — would be extremely helpful).

Evolution Revisited, Ethics Considered (plus Cranshaw, the Anniversary Ape)

As mentioned in my July 28 entry, Diana Fleischman is soon off to London and India, studying hygiene practices — but she’s also an evolutionary psychology expert, so it seems to me that this month is the perfect time for her to make the trek to the annual Burning Man art festival, while she’s still in nearby Texas, not simply because Burning Man always attracts people fascinated by sexual strategies but because “Evolution” (last I heard) was intended to be the explicit theme this year.

Of course, you just know the wackos (much as we love them) of Burning Man will interpret “evolution” in some bizarre, quasi-mystical way more akin to theosophy (a roughly century-old religion involving Progress and UFOs) than to Darwinian theory — and maybe all those people should also attend our debate next week on extraterrestrials, come to think of it.

But for a dose of more science-based evolutionary thinking — with no shortage of moral and social theorizing (not all of which I necessarily endorse) — you might take note of this mass-e-mailed recommendation from Diana:

This is a really fascinating conversation between Singer and Dawkins about what it means to be human, the definition of sentience, the ethical considerations involved in suffering, the evolution of moral feelings, and how Darwin paved the way for breaking down the distinction between human and animal — touching on animal research, slavery, and disgust and morality.  They even talk about cannibalism (one of my favorite topics).

From the religious in this country to even some people who are merely “spiritual,” there is a distrust of atheists because they see no moral guidelines that we follow and do not understand how moral guidelines are derived from rationality.  That’s why I think Singer (and others, like Austin Dacey) are on the right track in asking the secular community, “How are we to live?”

Me, I’m inclined to think evolution is only relevant to ethics in the way that economics is — which is to say, very, but it only tells us what is possible and likely, not in the end what we should do.  For that, you need utilitarianism, of course, but that’s a whole different topic (and not necessarily one on which Peter Singer should be assumed to have the final word, utilitarian though he is).

P.S. Helen reminds me it has been almost exactly twenty years since then-Harvard-undergrad Eric Kaplan was a Spy intern, around which time, along with Brown’s Andrew Clateman, he co-wrote Harvard Lampoon’s Time parody, which included one piece I particularly loved, the almost proto-Onion photospread depicting a man-on-the-street q & a with the very wise Cranshaw the Anniversary Ape, a chimpanzee with the accumulated wisdom of all of time, who cannot be stymied even if asked how he would survive being the leader of an ancient empire that worships the bee, beset by external enemies and internal dissent.

I believe the chimp, clad in sci-fi-esque silver shorts, at one point utters the sentence “These compounded difficulties suggest a felicitous solution,” which always brings a touch of class to even the most unevolved proceedings and somehow sticks with me years later.