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In the movie, The Unbelievers, Richard Dawkins explain that there was no “first person”, in a discussion with the evolutionary ignorant arch bishop of Australia. Richard compared the belief that there was no first person to the idea of being old. He said that you don’t go to bed middle aged and then wake up old and so evolution is the same way, a gradual and imperceptible process. Richard insulted the chairman of the debate by stating that he was a philosopher and felt it was his rule to clarify things and therefor that meant obscuring things. I feel as though I’m a philosopher of sorts and do so love the findings of science and will take pleasure in moderating from behind my computer. Science involves experimentation, something that evolutionary biology lacks a great deal of because of the vast time required. ((some muddling) The “Co-star” Lawrence Krauss mentioned that science violates common sense by referencing that an electron can be in two places at the same time. The double slit is an interesting experiment used to come to that conclusion, an experiment which I’ve believe the results have probably been misinterpreted.)

At any rate, when I try to explain why evolution is true to people that believe the world was made in 7 days, I bring up ring species, one of the best experimental ways to prove evolution. A brief explanation is by using the Greenish Warbler, a bird that has several groups living around the Himalayas. Group A can reproduce with group B and group B can reproduce with group C, but group A and C can not reproduce. The experiment would be to kill group B, thus creating 2 seperate spieces. It’s an experiment that I hope only happens in the mind of biologists.

So Mr. Dawkins, with my mind experiment in hand and some sci-fi time travel, if we go back in time there will be a great great grand parent of ours that is genetically dissimilar to us that if we took one of our good breeders they would not be able to have a time travel baby that would survive to bread. At some point there was a single person that was born on the plans of Africa that if they were time warped forward to 2014 would be able to bread with the current population and have babies healthy enough to reproduce themselves. That would be the first human being, fuzzy around the edges for sure, but the first human non the less. Ha, I love thinking my way around that arrogant prick.

From “Why does the World Exist?: An Existential detective story.”

“Also, the laws amount to a funny way of saying, ‘Nothing equals something” Updike said, bursting into laughter. “QED! One opinion I’ve encountered is that, since getting from nothing to something involves time, and time didn’t exist before there was something, the whole question is a meaningless one that we should stop asking ourselves. It’s beyond our intellectual limits as a species. Put yourself into the position of a dog. A dog is responsive, shows intuition, looks at us with eyes behind which there is intelligence of a sort, and yet a dog must not understand most of the things it sees people doing. It must have no idea how they invented, say, the internal-combustion engine. So maybe what we need to do is imagine that we’re dogs and that there are realms that go beyond our understanding. I’m not sure I buy that view, but it is a way of saying that the mystery of being is a permanent mystery. – John Updike

crucus-hill

I sold my second house portrait in the twin cities yesterday. At this rate, I will be homeless within a month. I’ve started a part time job delivering news papers to people up the Mississippi, but my minivan is starting to misbehave and since people will not walk to the newspaper tube under their mailbox, I have to run the paper up to the door. It’s very hard on my car, a catch 22. People demanding that they not walk to the edge of their property, makes me hate those lazy home owners. I’m going to try to use my skateboard for some of the route this weekend so my car doesn’t get too hot…. how old am I again??? I am grateful for their 50 cents. So that’s good news.

Even better news is that I’ve changed my approach to acquiring house portraits and it seems to be working. Instead of walking dozens of miles putting postcards in the mail slots of the homes I like, risking being fined for breaking federal law, I’m knocking on the doors ready to annoy people with face to face solicitation. I have tricky wording backing me. I got the job from the first doors I knocked on in Minneapolis and Saint Paul. The resident in Saint Paul asked me why I knocked knocked on his door. I didn’t want to tell him it was because there was an eight, a zero and a one in his address for fear of appearing crazy, so I told him that I liked the way his house fit in the composition, which is generally true, even this time when I was also playing with numbers. I believe he thought it was weird that I asked him about a house portrait because he actually collects plein air work. Yes, it is weird, and he has no idea how weird.

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This spring has been a turbulent one, starting with a 2 day, 1000 mile drive through 20 declared flood disaster zones for my dream minivan, which of course sold 2 hours before I arrived. My old car that I drove there, Fire Rabbit Quest, was about to literally fall apart, so I had to do something. Amazingly they had a minivan there that would work for me, but it was $500 more than I was expecting to pay, was two years older and had rust. It is a low mileage oddball. What could I do? So I drained my bank account to $0, less the gas money it took to drive to my family’s home in PA. The dealer was kind enough to let me borrow his Mexicans for an hour. They helped me remove the back seats in the new van and remove the safe from Fire Rabbit, something I was actually expecting to have to replace. The new car is an American breed, god forbid, and has a great name for what it is to me, The Estate.

It took several weeks to pimp it out to its maximum potential. I asked my father, who was an electrician and very proud of it, how I could install a second deep cycle battery to charge my electronics and run a small fan, isolated from the starting battery but charged from the alternator. He said it would be very easy, told be what to do, so I bought the relatively expensive battery and installed it. A week later my battery light came on. My father said that I had the most difficult problem to find, instilling a terror in me that I had bought a lemon and would shortly be a slave to the kitchen and apartment “living”. A few days later there was an emergency and I had to take my mom’s dog to the hospital. My Estate died in near my fathers house. He was kind enough to jump me and escort me and Rita to the vet. The next day he said that it was my starting battery, the one the Mexicans helped me swap out and that if it wasn’t the battery that was causing the problem that he would foot the bill, the again rather large sum for me. The battery light stayed on and my stress shot through the roof. Read more