God Loves Barack Obama and Hates Chile

As many of you may know by know, the nation of Chile suffered a terrible earthquake today. From this AP article:

One of the largest earthquakes ever recorded tore apart houses, bridges and highways in central Chile on Saturday and sent a tsunami racing halfway around the world. Chileans near the epicenter were tossed about as if shaken by a giant, and the head of the emergency agency said authorities believed at least 300 people were dead.

The largest earthquake ever recorded struck the same area of Chile on May 22, 1960. The magnitude-9.5 quake killed 1,655 people and left 2 million homeless. It caused a tsunami that killed people in Hawaii, Japan and the Philippines and caused damage along the west coast of the United States.

There were fears that today's earthquake would also trigger a deadly tsunami across the Pacific, including the Hawaiian Islands.

With a rapt world watching the drama unfold on live television, a tsunami raced across a quarter of the globe on Saturday and set off fears of a repeat of the carnage that caught the world off guard in Asia in 2004.

By the time the tsunami hit Hawaii — a full 16 hours after the quake — officials had already spent the morning ringing emergency sirens, blaring warnings from airplanes and ordering residents to higher ground.

"We dodged a bullet," said Gerard Fryer, a geophysicist for the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii.

Now, since a lot of religious nut jobs like Pat Robertson like to claim that natural disasters, like the recent earthquake that killed hundreds of thousands of people in Haiti, are signs of God's wrath, then according to their "logic", two things should be obvious, God loves Barack Obama and hates Chile.

First, the evidence that God loves Barack Obama.

Exhibit A: The earthquake that struck Chile in 1960 and killed over 1,600 people caused a tsunami that killed people in Hawaii. Barack Obama was born in Hawaii on August 4, 1961. Evidently, God caused the earthquake and tsunami to happen before the future president was born so that no harm would come to him.

Exhibit B: The tsunami caused by today's earthquake in Chile did not strike Hawaii. Barack Obama was born in Hawaii and is currently president. God knew that if Hawaii was severely damaged by a tsunami while Barack Obama was president, people like Pat Robertson would interpret it as a sign from God that God was angry with President Obama.

Second, God hates Chile. Since Chile is prone to such powerful earthquakes, God must be angry with Chile about something. But what could it be?

Abortion? Nope, according to this Wikipedia article, "The Chilean abortion law is considered one of the most restrictive in the world."

Gay rights? It doesn't look promising. Again, from Wikipedia:

Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) persons in Chile may face legal challenges not experienced by non-LGBT residents. Both male and female same-sex sexual activity is legal in Chile, but same-sex couples and households headed by same-sex couples are not eligible for the same legal protections available to opposite-sex married couples.

Although homosexuality was legalized in 1998 in Chile, several court rulings within the last decade demonstrate discriminatory policy. In Chile the current law against sodomy states that the age of consent for homosexuals is set at 18, whereas the age of consent for heterosexual sex is lower at 12.

Below are some excerpts from an ex-pat's personal anecdotes on encountering homophobia in Chile's capital of Santiago.

Today in English class in downtown Santiago, I mentioned that Manchester was celebrating Gay Pride. One of my students immediately responded, “I don’t like gays”. She told me that she’d seen a similar parade in Canada and that she hadn’t liked it because there were too many lesbians there. She thought that lesbians were women who “made the decision to be lesbian because they wanted to be fashionable or because they were too ugly to get a man." She said this without shame or without thinking for a moment that anyone might have a different opinion. She was a young, educated woman who firmly believed that homosexual was not something you were, but rather something you decided to be.

It wasn’t the first time I’d come across such blatant homophobia. I recently went out for some drinks with a group of young Chilean university students. During the course of the conversation, I mentioned that I had gay friends. “So you’re gay then?” “No, I just have gay friends”. This took a while to sink in. I talked about Manchester and the fact that gay marriage and gay adoption was accepted in England. The same girl chipped in, “Oh, but gay parents have gay babies”. I asked her how, with that logic, straight parents had gay children, but she didn’t answer. Perhaps she was the daughter of the taxi driver who, during my first month in the city, pointed out two guys together and told me that there weren’t men, they were ‘gays’. Worse still, on the computer terminal in the staff room at work, I was blocked from reading an article on the internet about Germain Greer because it contained the words ‘gay rights’.

So, if it is not abortion or gay rights, what could be the cause of God's beef with Chile? Two words: Michelle Bachelet. Besides being the current president of Chile, Ms. Bachelet is "a pediatrician and epidemiologist with studies in military strategy—served as Health Minister and Defense Minister under President Ricardo Lagos. She is a separated mother of three and a self-described agnostic."

Could God be punishing Chile because He hates Michelle Bachelet?

Exhibit A: Michelle Bachelet was born on September 29, 1951. Therefore, she was alive when the 1960 earthquake devastated Chile.

Exhibit B: Michelle Bachelet is separated from her husband and is an agnostic.

Exhibit C: Her presidential term ends this coming March 10. If God wasn't mad at Michelle Bachelet, the earthquake would not have happened before the end of her presidency.

So, the next time you encounter a Christian who speaks ill of President Obama, remember this post and tell the Obama bashing Christian that he or she is gravely mistaken. God loves Barack Obama. Therefore, to be against Obama is to be against God.

Belize Trip - Friday, August 7, 2009: Back On Dry Land

This was our last full day in Belize. There were two dives scheduled for the morning at a site called Amberhead at Turneffe, one at 6 a.m. and the other at 8 a.m. I decided to pass on the last two dives and decided to get an early start on packing for our departure the next morning.

After the morning's dives were done, everyone rinsed out and hung their gear up to dry on the sun deck at the top of the ship. I took the picture above of the wetsuits and BCDs hanging from the bar to capture that sense of finality that the trip was winding down and our diving was at an end.

But while there would be no more scuba diving for us, it did not mean that the fun was over. Marnie, the First Mate of the Sundancer II, informed us of several land excursion options that we could choose from later that afternoon after we had docked in Belize City. I and four others, Sam, Tara, Jeff and Josh, opted for the Cave Tubing trip.

We left around 1 p.m. The drive itself took over an hour into the interior of Belize. At several spots along the road, we were surprised to see groups of rifle toting men in camouflage standing around. One spot in particular was where the road crossed over a river or canal, and we speculated they might be Belizean military or police on the lookout for boats bringing in drugs. Later on, the road became pockmarked with potholes, and our driver had to execute a number of movements to go around them. Finally, we reached our destination.

After meeting our guide, we were issued our tubes, and then trekked for about 30 minutes or so through the jungle to get to the river where our tubing adventure would begin. Our guide was emphatic that we avoid touching any of the trees, as some were poisonous, and others had spikes that could puncture our tubes.

At last we reached the point in the river where we would begin our journey. It was an open part of the river, maybe about 50 yards, sandwiched between two caves.

It didn't take long before were immersed in darkness, with only the flashlights strapped to our heads to help us find our way and the current of the river gently pulling us along.

The picture above I took myself just by holding my camera in front of me.

For the first half of the trip we had the cave all to ourselves. In the beginning, we let out a lot of whoops and calls to hear them echo back at us. There were not many formations of interest, owing to the fact, our guide informed us, that during times of heavy rain, the level of the water would rise all the way to the ceiling of the cave.

After about a half hour, we saw light up ahead and the sounds of lots of people, especially children, yelling and laughing as they would jump into the river. It was a large group of people, fellow Americans, I think, who had paused at an area where there was open sky again. As we passed them by, our guide warned us that the rapids were up ahead and to lift our butts up so that they would not get cut by the rocks. At this point we started to move faster as we moved into the next cave.

Unfortunately, the solitude we had enjoyed during the first half was not to last, as the pack of noisy people we had just passed evidently decided to continue on as well. Not long after we entered the second cave, we looked back to see them entering the cave, the shouts and laughter of the children echoing around us. We even had trouble hearing our own guide, who was ahead of us. I joked that it would be great if we had blow guns so that we could puncture their tubes and leave them stranded behind us.

Eventually though, perhaps owing to our fewer numbers, we were able to distance ourselves from our noisy pursuers. Unlike the first section, the second section had a lot of interesting formations. I took pictures of some of them, but because of the dark they did not turn all that well. After a short while, we could begin to hear the roar of the waterfall the guide had told us about. He explained to us that it was in a different chamber, so while the roar became deafening as we got closer, we were not able to see the water fall.

A few minutes after that, we were on the last leg of the journey as we could see the mouth of the cave ahead. The guide drew our attention to the bats in the ceiling above us. I tried to get a picture of them, but to my misfortune, I got caught in a current that diverted me away from them. Finally, I gave up trying to get a picture, put my camera back in the dry bag, and used my hands as paddles to catch up to the rest of the group, who had already stepped out of the water.

The guide took the picture of us below and then we hiked back to meet up with our driver for our return to the Sundancer.

All in all, it was an enjoyable experience, apart from the interlude with the noisy people, not to mention that it was a great way to beat the tropical heat.

The Belize Trip Day 5 - August 5, 2009 - The Birds

After having dried ourselves off from our Blue Hole excursion and had some snacks to eat, it was off to the next activity planned for the day, a visit to Half Moon Caye to visit the Red-Footed Booby sanctuary. It would be the first time we set foot on dry land since we arrived in Belize four days earlier. Because the island did not have the docking facilities to handle a ship the size of the Sundancer II, we boarded the smaller boat to take us there.

Below is my roommate Sam with Marnie, the ship's first mate.

Besides Red-footed Boobies, another of the avian denizens of the island is the Frigate Bird. I was fortunate that the one below hovered long enough for me to be able to get a good shot of it properly centered.

Above is yours truly, though I believe it was taken after we had made our way to the end of the island where the observation tower was to observe the boobies. If memory serves, I had dunked myself with some water to cool off, which explains the dark area on my shirt.

Unfortunately, I was not able to get a good picture at the observation tower. There were a lot of boobies, but they were at a bit of a distance, roosting on the trees. It reminded me of the Alfred Hitchcock movie the way there were all gathered there.

The shot above is pretty much self explanatory.

When I saw the formation in the picture above, at first I thought it was a series of jagged rocks sticking out of the water. Even though it vaguely resembled a ship, I wasn't sure that it was. However, when I asked Marnie, she confirmed that it was a cargo ship that had gotten wrecked there.

Below is a big-assed termite nest.

Another common resident of Half Moon Caye is the iguana. If you happen to go there, you will see a lot of them scurrying about or simply resting in the shade.

After about an hour and a half on Half Moon Caye, we were all quite hot and looked forward to getting back in the boat and returning to the Sundancer II. Before we docked with it, we did a pass around her in order to get some photo opportunities. In the shot below, I wasn't quite able to capture the entire ship in the frame.

Here we have Jerry, the Sundancer II's master chef, cooking lunch on the grill in preparation for our return. Here I have to digress a bit. For those of you who have never been on a live aboard before, there might be an expectation that it will a spartan kind of existence, with the food consisting of franks and beans or mac & cheese or something like that. I have to say, every meal Jerry prepared for us was a masterpiece worthy of any fancy restaurant. If there is a culinary heaven, it can be found on the Sundancer II. The food was that good.

The Belize Trip Day 5 - August 5, 2009: The Blue Hole

Stock photo of The Blue Hole

Since nothing particularly eventful happened on Day 4, I figured I would skip right over to Day 5, for our dive to the world famous Blue Hole. During the last Ice Age, when sea levels were lower, the Blue Hole was a cave complex. With the end of the Ice Age, sea levels rose and the cave structure collapsed and filled with sea water to a depth of some 480 feet. Consequently, seen from above, the Blue Hole looks like a dark blue dot in the Caribbean Sea surrounded by a coral atoll.

The early part of the morning was spent getting to the Blue Hole. In the photo above, Captain James and First Mate Marnie stand near the front of the Sundancer II leading the way like proper ship officers.




In this photo, the Sundancer II is just starting to enter the Blue Hole. You can make out the darker water in the middle and part of the surrounding atoll in the background. Below is a closeup of part of the atoll.


For me, the Blue Hole was going to be my most exciting dive yet because I would be descending deeper than I ever had before, to a depth of some 145 feet. The reason for diving to such a depth is because that is where the large stalactites from the old cave complex that once existed, and which form the main attraction for the Blue Hole, are to be found.

Most of the passengers participated in the dive. One of the older men refused to go because he had been there before. In fact, he had even objected to having the Blue Hole on the itinerary at all, claiming that there was really nothing to see there. Tara did not go either. Though her confidence under the water was starting to improve and she did not have any more mask flooding incidents, she felt she was not ready to dive to such a depth. However, she continued to improve markedly for the remainder of the trip, and I think given a few more days she could have handled the Blue Hole. The crew members who would be accompanying us on the dive were Marnie and John.

So, one by one, we did our giant strides in the water. If memory serves, I was the last to go in. As I submerged, I looked down and saw the rest of the group descending below me. Within a couple of minutes, I hit the thermocline and for the first time on the trip, I felt cold underwater. It took a moment for me to adjust to it. As we continued to descend, it grew darker and darker. We all had our underwater flash lights on, and we trained our beams on the walls as we continued on down.

After a few minutes, I can't remember how long, we reached 145 feet and saw the stalactites. There were two really large ones hanging from an outcrop. I swam up close to them and noted the tiny shells embedded in them. Below us, the hole would continue for another 340 feet or so. From what I was told, by Marnie I think, the water at the bottom of the hole was like a toxic slurry. The hole itself was slowly filling up from sediment that has been and continues to settle on the bottom, until one day it will eventually be filled up.

We spent about three minutes at our maximum depth and then we began to make our ascent to the surface. When we hit the thermocline on the way up, it was like suddenly entering a warm bath. It felt really good.

Before we could return to the Sundancer II, we had to do two safety stops instead of the usual one because of the depth we were at. The first stop, if I recall, was at about 25 feet, where we rested on a sandy portion of the atoll. Because it was a 5 minute safety stop instead of the usual 3 minutes, it felt like an eternity to me. I was a bit anxious about running low on air and I kept monitoring my air supply on my LPG while making a conscious effort to breathe very slowly. At one point, I tried making a smiley face in the sand to help pass the time, but it quickly dissipated. After the 5 minutes passed, we ascended a bit further, to 15 feet, for our second safety stop for 3 minutes. We had to hover in the water instead of using the Sundancer's hang bar, because the boat needed to be in the open water so that the hang bar would not damage the atoll or get stuck.

When I finally boarded the boat again, I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment. I had successfully dove deeper than I ever had before. I still had to the buoyancy part of the Advanced Open Water course the next day. But my confidence in myself had grown and I knew I could handle it.

However, had I known that there was a possibility that there could be sharks in the Blue Hole, I might have felt a lot more nervous about going in there. Below is a short Youtube video that gives you an idea of what the Blue Hole is like if you have never been there. The diver who shot the video got some footage of sharks. What Larry told me was that sometimes sharks enter the Blue Hole during high tide and then get stuck in there during low tide, so they swim around in circles near the surface until the tide gets high enough for them to escape. Luckily, there were none in there on our excursion. While I was eager to see sharks during my dives, the Blue Hole, being a relatively enclosed place, was not the sort of venue where I would want to be in close proximity to them.

Sarah Palin Attacked By Hollywood Liberal Elitist

Andrea Friedman, the actress who provided the voice of the character in the recent Family Guy episode that drew the ire of Alaskan ex-governor Sarah "The Quitta from Wasilla" Palin, has issued her own statement on the issue.

My name is Andrea Fay Friedman. I was born with Down syndrome. I played the role of Ellen on the "Extra Large Medium" episode of Family Guy that was broadcast on Valentine's day. Although they gave me red hair on the show, I am really a blonde. I also wore a red wig for my role in " Smudge" but I was a blonde in "Life Goes On". I guess former Governor Palin does not have a sense of humor. I thought the line "I am the daughter of the former governor of Alaska" was very funny. I think the word is "sarcasm".

In my family we think laughing is good. My parents raised me to have a sense of humor and to live a normal life. My mother did not carry me around under her arm like a loaf of French bread the way former Governor Palin carries her son Trig around looking for sympathy and votes.

Of course, what does Andrea Friedman know? She's just part of the liberal Hollywood elite that hates America. But seriously, the New York Times article I linked to above also has an interview with Ms. Friedman.

Thanks to my friend Andrea (not Friedman) for bringing this to my attention and for linking to this blog post.

Tiger Woods Sticks It To Brit Hume

As anticipated, Tiger Woods finally got around to making a public announcement in which he apologized for his actions and the hurt it caused not only himself but to his family and fans as well.

Many of you will probably remember that Fox "News" correspondent Brit Hume, among others, had called on Woods to turn to Christianity in order to seek forgiveness and redemption. I did a post on it here, in which I criticized Hume for either being ignorant of or deliberately misrepresenting Buddhism.

In reading the transcript of Woods speech, this section caught my interest:

"I have a lot of work to do, and I intend to dedicate myself to doing it. Part of following this path for me is Buddhism, which my mother taught me at a young age. People probably don't realize it, but I was raised a Buddhist, and I actively practiced my faith from childhood until I drifted away from it in recent years. Buddhism teaches that a craving for things outside ourselves causes an unhappy and pointless search for security. It teaches me to stop following every impulse and to learn restraint. Obviously I lost track of what I was taught." (Underlined for emphasis).

The part I underlined is exactly the same point I made in my previous post. I will be interested to see if Hume has any reaction to Woods publicly stating that he seeks to rededicate himself to his Buddhist faith (assuming of course that Woods is being truly sincere). I certainly don't begrudge that Hume and others may have found solace for themselves in turning to Christianity. But they need to understand that other people can turn to plenty of sources outside of Christianity for inspiration to make positive changes in their lives.

How Do You Know God Didn't Punish Haiti?

Readers of this blog may remember my mention of Christian extremist Ron Boehme in this post I did last month on Tiger Woods. Boehme is representative of the kind of religious person we atheists like to rail against, the fervent Biblical literalist who views everything through the prism of a cosmic war between the forces of good (of which he believes he is a member) and the forces of evil (which includes those of us who are atheists).

Boehme ended up on my radar screen a few years ago when he was running for the Washington state legislature as a (well, you probably guessed it) Republican. I checked out his campaign web site, where he stated that atheists and secularists were the enemy of America or something along those lines. So, I e-mailed him and expressed my displeasure at him for categorically declaring such a thing. He replied to me, calling on me to be "civil." I laughed at that, because according to his campaign web site, I am an enemy of America, and yet he had the gall to allege incivility on my part. He never replied to my follow up reply, and to my knowledge, he did not win the election. But he apparently saw fit to put me on his e-mail list and I have since found myself receiving his e-mail sermons that are part of his "Revive America Project."

For the most part I find myself glancing briefly at them and then deleting them. But today's post caught my attention. Titled "Pondering The Haiti Earthquake--and Other 'Natural Disasters'." Note the "scare quotes" around Natural Disasters.

In a nutshell, with the emphasis on "nut", Boehme regurgitates what the infamous Pat Robertson said on his 700 Club program last month and defends Robertson's remarks. Below are excerpts of what he wrote.

"The politically correct (secular) view of the Haiti quake was that God was not involved in the calamity--only (maybe) in the relief efforts. How do they know? Why was there such a strong aversion to even considering that God could be a part of this natural disaster?

Here's the obvious reason: Secularists want to convince the world that there is no God--that they are the ultimate authorities and their forms of human government, including humanitarian relief, are the main things that should be trusted and appreciated. The atheistic interpretation of reality instructs people that there is no God, no such thing as sin and thus no sins to be repented of."

Wow! So, if I read Boehme right, he wants us to think that God murdered or permitted the death of over 200,000 Haitians. Therefore, we must cringe in fear lest the same thing happen to us.

"How do [we] know?" he asks, that the earthquake was not caused by God. Well, how are we supposed to be able to tell the difference between an earthquake resulting from God's wrath and an earthquake that just, well, happens? Are only earthquakes that kill people a sign of God's anger? If that is the case, then God must really hate poor, dark-skinned people, because rich countries can afford to build structures that are more resistant to earthquakes.

As for Pat Robertson, Boehme belches, "Pat Robertson was not saying as fact that the earthquake was God's judgment. He was just trying to understand the disproportionate aspects of suffering that have visited the Haiti portion of the island of Hispaniola. Could there be some spiritual reasons? Fair question if you believe in God, Satan, blessings and curses."

Well, you could try reading a little about the history of Haiti to understand the "disproportionate aspects of suffering" that have affected the people of Haiti. One cannot dismiss, for example, that Haiti had to agree to pay France 90 million gold francs in recognition of its independence in order to lift an embargo imposed on it by France, Britain and the United States. That the United States should treat Haiti in such a way shows a large measure of ingratitude because Haiti's successful revolt against Napoleon resulted in Napoleon offering to sell the entire Louisiana Purchase to the United States at a bargain price. In order to pay the onerous fee imposed on it, Haitian governments had to take out high interest loans and the debt was not paid until 1947.

That Haiti has been plagued by corrupt governments throughout much of it's recent history is no secret, though one need not invoke God or Satan in this. Many countries have had to endure kleptocratic regimes. What adds to Haiti's misery is that it is geographically situated in an area that is subject to frequent devastating hurricanes and tropical storms, as well as being located near an earthquake fault zone. Throw poverty into the mix, and you have a country that lacks the wealth to build sturdy structures that can withstand natural disasters.

Boehme continues:

"What are some of the possible realities behind natural disasters and environmental catastrophes that we experience on earth, including Haiti? I can think of four possibilities or combinations or them:

GOD: The Bible is clear that the God of the Universe uses weather and physical events on earth to reveal truth and draw people to change their lives."

Uh, yeah, right. Because the Bible says so.

"SATAN: The Bible also records that the devil, Lucifer or Satan, has some delegated powers to bring physical calamities upon people."

Okay, so maybe God outsourced the Haiti earthquake to Satan.

"NATURE: many of the physical disasters and calamities we face might not be the direct hand of God or Satan, but simply the fruits of a fallen and imperfect world that are allowed by the Creator."

Well, as I mentioned in my post "The Canyons of Mars", Jupiter's moon Io is the most volcanically active body in our Solar System. The last time I checked, there were no Satan worshippers or flaming homosexuals living there.

"HUMAN SIN: This possiblity involves God but stresses man's part in the curse of creation. None of this scenario is God's fault. It's the direct result of man's sin."

But how can you tell. Is there some kind of "Sin-O-Meter" where one can measure the magnitude of human sin until it reaches a point where acts of rape, gay anal sex, and murder attain a critical mass to cause an earthquake or a tornado?

"So why was there a devastating earthquake in Haiti on January 13, 2010? We don't know for sure, but it clearly could have been an act of God, or influenced by Satan, or simply involved fallen creation, and/or was a direct result of a curse because of people's sins."

Or, it is simply a matter of geologic forces acting as they have done for hundreds of millions of years. You conveniently left that one out, Ronny.

"It would be helpful for us, and the people of Haiti who were devastated by the earthquake, to seek the face of God for the reasons for their misfortune. In response to their repentance and faith, God just might use this terrible tragedy to break an awful and unusual curse on a nation and for the first time, establish it in righteousness, increased safety (better buildings), godliness and prosperity."

Notice the arrogance there. The earthquake must somehow be the fault of the people of Haiti. No recognition anywhere by Boehme of the role of France's brutal system of slavery, the crippling debts imposed on Haiti, the isolation imposed on her by the United States, which feared that the successful slave revolt in Haiti would spark similar revolts in the slaveholding regions of the southern American states, among other things. In the binary worldview of Boehme and his ilk, Haiti suffered a devastating earthquake solely for ths sins of its people.

For people like Boehme, their human egocentric worldview requires that natural disasters be viewed as some kind of validation of their Christian faith. "Oh, those poor, wretched souls of Haiti got what was coming to them because they practice Voudou. If only they would accept the salvation of Christ, which we conveniently have done, they won't have such problems anymore."

Reading Boehme's bile made me recall something from an introductory book on Geology I read last year. In 1902, a volcano erupted on the Caribbean island of Martinique. The pyroclastic flow unleashed by the eruption caused the death of some 29,000 people in the island's capital of St. Pierre. One of the only survivors was a prisoner who was locked in a windowless cell. Do the likes of Boehme and Pat Robertson have any thoughts as to what the people of Martinique might have been doing to bring down divine wrath on them. Or how about the Mt. Saint Helens eruption in Boehme's home state of Washington in 1980 that killed 57 people. Maybe it was God's way of telling Ron Boehme to not be such a douchebag and Boehme just didn't get the message.

Fundy Fashion

Reading this article from The New York Times Magazine the other day about American born jihadist Omar Hammami, this passage (among many, I might add) about the Salafi Islam movement that Hammami embraced caught my attention, "Followers of the movement, who are sometimes likened to Calvinist Protestants, advocate a strict return to the fundamentals of Islam. To purge their practice of modern influences, they try to emulate the founders of the faith — the contemporaries of the Prophet Muhammad and the two generations that came after his death in A.D. 632. Young Salafis, for example, often dress in sandals and robes like those thought to have been worn in seventh-century Arabia." (Underlining mine).

Around the same time, I had read this article in the February 2010 edition of National Geographic about Mormon polygamists in the United States. In this picture, the caption notes that "[f]emale FLDS members wear modest attire—ankle-length prairie dresses—even while swimming." The Mormon Church was established in the mid-19th century United States, and early adherents of the faith had trekked across the United States to Utah. The women in the FLDS wear basically the same kind of clothing as what women wore in the United States some 160 or so years ago.

I found myself struck by the obvious but previously little thought of fact that for many fundamentalist religious believers, what clothing they are required or aspire to wear is essentially determined by the clothing specific to the time and geographic location of that particular religion's founding.

I started to think of other examples of this. Another obvious one to me are the Amish, who trace their origins to late 17th century Switzerland. You also see this with Hasidic Jews, whose sect dates back to 18th century Poland. From this Wikipedia article, "Much of Hasidic dress was historically the clothing of all Eastern-European Jews (and non-Jews), but Hasidim have preserved more of these styles to the present day."

The difference between Hasidic Jews and the Amish, as compared to Islamic fundamentalists, is that the former two are generally insular groups, whereas Islam presents itself as a universal religion that seeks to convert everybody, regardless of their race, nationality, or culture. Thus, pious Muslims, wherever they live, assume the clothing habits of a 7th century Arab desert culture. It's one thing if you happen to live in a desert environment, as many Arab and North African Muslims do. It's another thing when you live in tropical South East Asian countries like Indonesia and Malaysia, where Islamic dress strikes me as rather incongruent.

While the sentiment might exist in other religious cultures, one feature I have noticed with Islamic fundamentalists is that their vision of an ideal society is frozen in an idealized past where the Muslims were supposedly better Muslims than the ones who came afterwards. Thus, they feel the need to dress like they think the prophet Muhammed would have dressed, and to eat what they think he would have eaten, and so forth. Or, to borrow from a popular Christian song, "It was good for Muhammed, and it's good enough for me." But, as I believe I have demonstrated above, one's ideal of religiously appropriate attire is arbitrarily dictated by the time, place and culture of that particular religion's founding.

Pray For Christian Unity

That is what I saw on a sign in front of the United Methodist Church on Old Country Road in Hicksville as I drove past it last Saturday night.

From my atheist perspective, I couldn't help but think "Wouldn't it be better if we worked towards the unity of all humanity?" Of course, by that, I don't mean that we all become part of some Borg collective with identical thoughts and aims. Rather, for me, the best we can aspire to is a unity that embraces pluralism.

As for the idea of Christian unity. Yeah, sure, why not? However, I would miss not reading stories like this one anymore.

Help For Haiti

More reports are coming in now from Haiti, where a 7.0 magnitude earthquake has devastated the capital city of Port-au-Prince. A few examples below from this BBC article suggest the level of destruction there:

Prime Minister Jean-Max Bellerive told US network CNN he believed more than 100,000 people had died.

UN chief Ban Ki-moon said the head of the UN mission in Haiti and his deputy were among more than 100 staff missing.

The Brazilian army said 11 of its peacekeepers had been killed and a large number were missing.

A spokesman for medical charity Medecins sans Frontieres (MSF) said it was able only to offer basic care to the "massive influx" of survivors seeking help because all its buildings had been destroyed.

I cited the examples above because they demonstrate that not only has this earthquake been devastating to the Haitian people, it has also caused tremendous damage to the infrastructure of international organizations already in Haiti who have been providing aid.

Needless to say, this is a terrible tragedy and the Haitian people and the relief services they rely upon are going to need help. For anyone who can and wishes to make a donation, below are links to the donation pages for several organizations for donating specifically to help fund Haitian relief campaigns:

Catholic Relief Services

Unicef

International Committe for the Red Cross

Doctors Without Borders

Now We Know Why Sarah Palin Quit Her Job As Governor of Alaska

Seriously, is anyone really surprised by this?

UPDATED: Reason No. 1,148 Why Malaysian Muslim Extremists Suck - ALLAH! ALLAH! ALLAH!

To me, one of the criteria for measuring a nation's decency is in how its religious majority treats its religious minorities. And in recent days, the Muslim majority nation of Malaysia has been failing that test.

It seems that a segment of the Muslim population objects to the use by Malaysian Christians of the word Allah as their name for god. To its credit, a Malaysian court had overturned a government ban on non-Muslim groups using the word Allah in their literature. So how did some passionate members of the Religion of Peace react to the ruling? Why, by throwing petrol bombs at Christian churches and committing other acts of vandalism such as smashing the windshields of cars that had Christian symbols in them.

It is my understanding that the use of Allah by non-Muslims is not unique to Malaysia. For example, Coptic Christians in Egypt also use Allah, given that they live in an Arab country.

Anyway, the people of Malaysia should really be embarrassed that this kind of nonsense goes on in their country. If this keeps up, I might feel obliged to go out and buy a pig and name him Allah and post pictures of him on the web. Then again, it might be cheaper and easier if I just pick out a stock photo of a pig and caption it "My pig Allah."

UPDATE:

The above is a perfect example of a kneejerk rant rather than a planned post. That's what I get for clicking on Al Jazeera before going to bed.

For a more thoughtful take on the matter from a Malaysian woman with a Muslim background, I highly recommend this post here.

He Truly Had A Dizzying Intellect

I have been reading the works of Augustine lately, and when I was reading a passage in his Confessions a couple of months ago where he is going off about the origin of time, I couldn't help but think of that line in The Princess Bride where Wesley, disguised as the Dread Pirate Roberts, tells Vizzini "You truly have a dizzying intellect."

So, why is an atheist reading Augustine? Well, part of it is just to read the case put forth for Christianity by an intelligent and well educated man who lived during the period when paganism was being eclipsed by the Christian faith in the late fourth to early fifth centuries in the Western half of the Roman Empire. But on another level, reading his works, particularly his City of God, which I am in the middle of right now, allows the reader to immerse oneself in the mental universe of an intellectual who lived some 1,600 years ago. To read him is to know what he knew about the world he lived in and how he interpreted and explained it, while knowing the future that he did not.

Augustine wrote City of God as a response to pagans who alleged that the sack of Rome by the Goths in the year 410 was a consequence of the Christianization of the empire and the abandonment of the pagan gods. While I agree with Augustine that Christianity was not to blame for the decline and fall of the empire in the West (after all, why did the Christian Empire in the East continue to endure for centuries longer?), could Augustine have anticipated that his dying days would witness barbarian tribes laying siege to his home city of Hippo in North Africa? Even more, while confidently asserting the inevitable spread and triumph of Christianity, I doubt Augustine could ever have imagined that little more than two centuries after his death, a new religion would burst forth from the deserts of Arabia to spread to his homeland, where it retains its grip to this very day.

I hope to write some more posts in the coming days on City of God as I continue to read it (and assuming I can get another extension from my local library!) as Augustine covers a range of topics and even addresses a lot of questions I have had about Biblical interpretation. I am about halfway through the 550 page paperback copy I have on loan from the library. And to think that at 550 pages, this is just an abridged version! While Augustine is an accessible and readable writer, he is not the sort whose works one can just breeze through. I often find myself reading about 5 or 10 pages at a time, usually while on the train ride to and from work, before I pause to contemplate and digest what I have read. Knowing me, I will probably just end up buying my own copy from the book store to add to my personal library.

Saving Tiger Woods

Hat tip to Crooks and Liars for bringing attention to remarks recently made by Brit Hume of Fox "News" about the Tiger Woods scandal.

“The extent to which [Woods] can recover seems to me depends on his faith," said Hume. "He is said to be a Buddhist. I don't think that faith offers the kind of redemption and forgiveness offered by the Christian faith. My message to Tiger is, 'Tiger turn to the Christian faith and you can make a total recovery and be a great example to the world.”

Hume is not alone in offering such advice to the disgraced golfer. I ended up on the e-mail address list of some right-wing Christian whack job from Washington state named Ron Boehme, and one of his recent missives was in the form of an open letter to Tiger Woods. Among the choice quotes from Boehme's appeal:

"Tiger, the only person who has the power to forgive and transform your life is Jesus Christ. Not Mohammed, Confucius, Buddha or Mother Earth."

"Tiger, Jesus died on a cross in your place to save you from the many sins you've committed. He did that for us all. Believe in God's love and forgiveness through Jesus and you will be saved, forgiven, and become a new person. It's happened to millions of us, It can happen to you."

"Want to change your present circumstances? Want to silence the tabloids and paparazzi? "If any one is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold all things have become new" (2 Corinthians 5:17). Give them nothing to write about except a forgiven, changed, godly life."

Time will tell if Tiger Woods will take the advice offered to him by Hume and Boehme. It wouldn't surprise me all that much if he did. It has become a form of kabuki theater here in America in recent years. A politician, celebrity or other public figure commits a transgression in the eyes of the public and inevitably they try to restore their good standing by claiming to have found or rediscovered Jesus. Whether or not the conversion is sincere we rarely ever know. What does matter is that in a nation that is majority Christian, such a show is ultimately put on because it is a performance that is calculated to win the acceptance of the public.

So, for the Hume, Boehme and their ilk, Tiger Woods ultimately has to make a public show of becoming a Christian because that is the only way they can bring themselves to accept him as a person of good standing.

I find it interesting that Hume and Boehme claim that Buddhism, for example, cannot offer redemption and forgiveness. As someone who once considered embracing Buddhism years ago and who did absorb some of its teachings, I have to disagree vehemently. One of the core messages of Buddhism is that it is our attachment to material things that causes us unhappiness. Tiger Woods damaged his life because he thought sleeping with lots of women while married would bring him happiness and excitement. Buddhism teaches that he, as well as all of us, should shun such things because such activities ultimately cause us misery.

As for forgiveness, one of the most important persons we can obtain forgiveness from is not some invisible sky daddy, but rather ourselves. Forgiveness of self comes from understanding what we did wrong, why it was wrong, recognizing the mental state that drove us to commit the act, and learning that we must change our mental state to ensure that it does not happen again. Then there is the seeking of forgiveness from the person or persons that we wronged.

Being an atheist, I think I can say truthfully that I am a much more inclusive person than the likes of Hume and Boehme. Tiger Woods does not need my forgiveness. But I recognize that he does need to make some public act of contrition and to make amends to his wife and her family for the tremendous embarrasment he caused them. It doesn't matter to me whether he does it as a Christian, Buddhist, Muslim or secular humanist. Then let him get back to the business of playing golf again, hopefully as a humbler and wiser man.

Belize Trip Day 3 - August 3, 2009 - Underwater Math and The Deep Blue Sea

I had decided that while I was going to be in an environment where I would be diving up to five times a day, I might as well use the opportunity to get certified as a PADI Advanced Open Water Diver, which would allow me to dive recreationally to a depth of 130 feet.

The course consisted of five specialty courses. One of them was the Deep Diver course. As part of the course, I had to do a math problem on the boat. It was an addition problem involving adding two numbers that were in the hundreds of thousands. Aaron, one of the divemasters and crew members of the boat, timed me while I added the numbers. One of the other members of our group, Jeff, who was the father of Josh, was also taking the Advanced Open Water class and would also be participating in the deep dive. Aaron told us that on our deep dive, we would descend to 100 feet and then he would give us diving slates with a similar addition problem written on them. He would then time us again as we did the math. The point of it all was to test our abilities at deep depth. Aaron informed us that some people took longer to solve the problems underwater while others were able to do it even faster.

As so much time has passed, my memory is hazy as to what dive this was, but I think it might have been the second dive of the day at Half Moon Caye Wall. Aaron, Jeff, and I did our giant strides into the water, swam to the reef wall, and then descended to about 100 feet. Aaron handed Jeff and I the diving slates with the math problems. With the pencils provided to us, Jeff and I each took turns adding the numbers Aaron had written on the slates while Aaron timed us. After we had finished, we made our way back to the Sundancer II. Later on, Aaron came up to me and informed me that I had did my math problem faster at 100 feet than I did on the boat. Given that math was never my strongest subject, I joked that I should spend more time at deep depth.

Later in the day, we had moved to a new dive site called Uno Coco. I had decided to skip the first of the three dives there. For the late afternoon dive, I told one of our group, Tara, that I would accompany her on the dive. Tara was a nice, pretty lady about my age who worked as an elementary school teacher. Though she was a certified diver, it had been some time since she had last dived and she lacked confidence in herself. Her anxiety about diving was further exacerbated by the fact she had problems on previous dives with her mask flooding. I remember on one of the dives, I had swam up alongside her and saw her struggling to clear her mask. I could see that she was starting to panic and I reached out to try to calm her down when suddenly she started to make a rapid ascent to the surface. I know that she had did the same thing on a previous dive, and the rest of us were worried that she would end up spending the rest of the trip on the boat without going in the water again. Larry suggested to her that her problem might be that she had her mask on too tightly. If I recall, she did not have further problems after that.

Anyway, back to the dive in question. I told Tara that I would go in first and meet her at the hang bar. I did my giant stride into the water, gave the "OK" signal by placing my hand on top of my head, gave a wave to Tara, then started my descent. And then, like my first dive on the previous day, I found myself surfacing again. So, I started over, giving a long, steady exhale and began my descent. As I finally started sinking lower, I looked ahead of me so that I could begin swimming towards the hang bar, when to my utter shock and surprise, I saw no sign of the Sundancer II at all. Even worse, I looked down, and instead of seeing coral reefs and sand, I saw nothing but blue. Somehow, I had ended up way past the reef wall.

As I did with my first dive, I decided the best thing to do was to surface and look for the Sundancer II. Breaking the surface, I looked ahead and saw her far off in the distance. I was utterly baffled, as it seemed like only a few seconds had passed between when I had left the boat and when I had started to descend. I found myself all alone above the deep blue sea, and no one had any idea where I was. Now, being as this is an atheist themed blog, I have to find some way of getting an atheist angle into this story.

I felt a wave of fear come over me. But I didn't turn into the cliched atheist in a foxhole begging god to save me. As inexperienced as I was, I had my training. While the Sundancer II was further away from me than it was when I had to be rescued from my first dive, this time it was the beginning of the dive and I still had nearly a full tank of air at my disposal. I took a compass reading, descended to about 15 feet, and then started swimming as rapidly as I could in the direction of the boat. I was worried not only about me, but about Tara as well. She was expecting to find me waiting for her at the hang bar and I did not want her thinking I had ditched her.

After a few minutes had passed by, I started to see white patches below me and felt a tremendous sense of relief as I realized I had passed back over the reef wall again. A few seconds later I could see the bubbles emitted by other divers below me and knew I was back in the right neighborhood. Then I found the Sundancer II and made my way to the hang bar. The bar was empty, and I figured that Tara must have gotten tired of waiting for me and went back on the boat. Nevertheless, I decided to remain on the hang bar in the event that she would show up again. Meanwhile, since I would be participating in the night dive at this same site later on, I started to look around at the coral formations below me for recognizable features to help me on the night dive. I then found myself watching a school of Horse-eye Jacks that had taken shelter underneath the boat. They stayed in formation and matched their movement to the boat as it swung from side to side. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another diver had joined me on the hang bar. It was Tara.

Since I still had ample air left in my tank, I decided to do a little exploring. I signaled to Tara that I was going down to the coral formation below. There was a cul-de-sac with the entrance marked by a barrel sponge that I had taken notice of while I was waiting on the hang bar. I passed through the entrance and swam to the end. Then I turned around and settled down, resting my knees on the sand, calmly surveying the scene about me. I was going to keep an eye out for this spot on the night dive, because I knew that the Sundancer II would be passing over it.

Having had my fill of freelancing, I returned to the hang bar for my safety stop and then surfaced to board the boat. Once on board, I explained to Tara what had happened to me and apologized for not being where she expected me to be. She was quite understanding.

After dinner, I joined Marnie, Jeff and several other divers for the night dive. In terms of marine life, the dive was not as successful as the previous night's dive. Pretty much all I saw were more sturgeons and tarpons gliding by, completely unfazed by our presence. At one point during the dive, I was about ten feet above the rest of the divers. One of my hands must have came to my chest, because I realized that I had forgotten to fasten the clips on my bcd. Nonchalantly, I went about clipping them. Unfortunately, in doing so, I accidentally lost my grip on the disposable underwater camera I had bought at Seascapes. Helplessly, I watched as it floated rapidly up to the surface. I felt bad, because there are probably fewer people in the world who hate littering as much as I do. But it would be my last mistake of the trip.

Belize Trip Day 2: August 2, 2009 - Cluster[bleep] In The Water

But before I get into that, a few words are in order for the reader who has never been on a liveaboard before.



As I wrote in my previous post, after breakfast each morning, the day's diving activities would begin with the dive briefing. On the Sundancer II, each of the crew members who was a dive master, namely, Captain James, First Mate Marnie, Aaron and John, would take turns describing a dive site. The dive master would draw, with varying degrees of artistic ability, a rough map of the dive site on an erasable marker board as seen in the picture above. He or she would inform us of the kinds of marine life we could expect to see, the terrain, and the depths, among other things. An important piece of information that was shared with us in the first dive briefing that would apply to nearly all our dives was that as a consequence of the ship being tethered to a mooring block, the ship would swing back and forth in a wide arc, so if the ship wasn't where we expected it to be on our return, we should wait a few minutes and eventually it would swing back to us. The other important thing that they stressed at every dive briefing was that we should try to come back from each dive with no less than 500 psi of air left in our tanks.

The picture above is the dive platform at the back of the Sundancer II. The ladders, which are retracted in the picture, are lowered when the divers are in the water and are used by the divers to climb back aboard after first taking off their fins and handing them to one of the crew members. You can see tethered behind the ship a small boat for use in the event that a diver needed to be rescued. Hint: In a story, this is what is called foreshadowing.

Each of us had our own dive station, where we would keep our buoyancy control device (bcd) strapped to the air tank. Below was storage space for our fins, mask and other gear. After each dive, our tanks would be refilled in place. Below is the port side of the dive deck. The rest of the passengers had their stations on the starboard side.

Okay, and now that that's out of the way, on to the day's events.

Our first dive was at a site called Long Caye Ridge. Before my trip to Belize, I expected, based on my lack of experience, that my first day's diving would see a lot of mistakes on my part. And sure enough, I did not fail to live up (or down) to my expectations.

Marnie, the first mate, was the dive master for this dive, and it was my intention to join her and the other passengers that were accompanying her. Below the dive deck, about 15 feet down, was the ship's hang bar, where the divers would congregate after doing their giant stride into the water and submerging.

After I had donned by gear, John, one of the divemasters on the ship, asked me how many pounds of weights I needed. I had consulted my dive log for the open water dives I had done in Fort Lauderdale the previous year and it said I used eighteen pounds. When I told John this, he was absolutely astounded and told me that was too much. He sized me up with his eyes and declared that ten pounds should be enough. "Well, he's the expert," I thought to myself and I accepted his assessment.

Having put the weights into my bcd (as I have a weight integrated bcd), I walked to the dive platform, put on my fins, and when I had the all clear, did my giant stride into the water. Holding the inflation hose up in my left hand and pressing the release button and exhaling out of my regulator, I expected to begin my descent. But as the seconds went by, I failed to submerge. "Dammit, I knew it!" I said to myself, upset that I did not insist to John that I be given 18 pounds. I swam back to the boat and told Aaron that I had trouble submerging and asked to have my weights boosted to 18 pounds. I pulled out the weight packets from my bcd and handed them to him so that he could put more weight blocks into them. Once this was done, I swam a few feet away from the boat and then proceeded to submerge. As I did so, I looked down towards the hang bar and saw to my consternation that there was no one there. Marnie's group had already left.

I started swimming around, looking for the other divers. I first came across Ira and Leo the octogenarian. As I approached Leo, he paused and I had to take evasive action to avoid a collision. I ascended to go over him, and then breathed a sigh of relief that I avoided hitting him, and then felt what seemed like a tug on my right fin. I looked back and saw that I accidentally clipped him. "Way to go asshole!" I berated myself. I continued on ahead of Leo and Ira to see if I could find Sam, but I failed to locate him. A short while later, I encountered a couple of other divers who were not part of the Seascapes group. It was a man from Iowa and his college age daughter. I started to look around the coral formations and actually take in the scenery for once. The next thing I knew, the Iowans were gone. I looked at my air tank and saw that my air supply was about 1000 psi. I figured I had better start heading back to the Sundancer II. After trying to retrace my path, I realized that I really had no clue where I was going, so I decided that my best bet was to surface to get a visual on the ship and then start swimming towards it.

When I surfaced, I found the Sundancer II, but was disappointed to see how far it was. I submerged a few feet and started to swim in the direction of the ship, keeping a nervous eye on my air gauge. When I got to around 500 psi, I surfaced again and saw I was still a good distance from the ship, about several hundred yards. Weighing my options, and knowing my limitations as an inexperienced diver and not wanting to run the risk of using up all my air, I decided to swallow my pride and signal for help. I had a safety sausage clipped to my bcd, but I didn't want to deploy that yet, so I blew the whistle until I could see that Aaron, who was on the dive platform, heard it and could see me waving my arms. I watched as they drew in the rescue boat towards the dive platform, and then Aaron stepped in, started the motor, and made his way towards me. After he helped me on board, I apologized profusely for being such a burden. On the way back, we picked up two more divers, Rose and Renee, who were also not part of the Seascapes group. While they were not in distress, they decided to accept Aaron's offer for a ride back, as they had surfaced about a hundred yards from the ship.

The second dive of the morning was also at Long Caye Ridge. While the dive itself was largely uneventful, my return to the ship did not go so well. When I got to the ladder, Captain James was manning the dive platform. I took off my fins and handed them to him, but in doing so, I stupidly let go of the ladder and the current started pushing me away. I tried kicking my legs, but without the fins I could make no headway. James tossed me a line and I used it to make my way back to the ladder. I climbed up, feeling exhausted and eager to get my gear off. Problem was, I mistakenly thought that I was supposed to leave my gear on the dive platform. I unclipped my bcd with the tank still strapped to it and set it down on the platform and started stumbling towards the dive deck. I heard James call to me sharply and when I looked back, he reprimanded me (and rightfully so) for leaving my gear. I apologized and scurried back to retrieve my bcd and tank. Another mistake made and another lesson learned.

After the second dive, we had lunch and Captain James piloted the ship to the next dive site at Lighthouse Reef called Cathedral. The day's remaining three dives, including the night dive, would be at this site. On the third dive, I went along with Sam, who had a camera and spent his dives looking for interesting things to photograph. This is probably also a good time to mention that none of my posts about this trip will have underwater pictures taken by me as I did not have an underwater camera. I had made the decision that due to my inexperience as a diver, it would be better, as well as safer, if I focused on trying to improve my diving skills. Furthermore, I had also signed up to take the Advanced Open Water course during the trip, and would have to take a number of dives under the supervision of the ship's divemasters.

The third dive presented a problem for me that I would have to address as the trip progressed. I was still struggling with streamlining my body and kicking properly with my fins, which resulted in my using my air supply too fast. I saw that my air was getting low and signaled to Sam. He acknowledged and signaled to me that we would first ascend to 15 feet for the 3 minute safety stop. However, I found myself continuing to ascend until I reached the service, the alarm on my dive computer going off warning me that I was ascending too fast. But I just couldn't stop myself. I reached the surface and looked down. I knew that Sam still had to do his safety stop (which by the way is for avoiding decompression sickness that can result from too rapid an ascent) and so I waited for him to finish, whereupon he led me back to the ship. I felt bad that I cut short Sam's dive, but he was cool about it.

The fourth dive went extremely well. I had no problems submerging and I started to feel more confident in the water. It was the first dive where I felt I could finally start enjoying myself, though I still had problems with using my air up too fast. I ended up heading back to the ship on my own. Though I still could not see the Sundancer II, I knew it was close by because I could hear the hum of its generator underwater. As I swam towards the direction of the sound, the next thing I knew, from seemingly out of nowhere, the Sundancer II's hull was practically right up against my right side, and then it was up against my side. Remember the swinging arc I mentioned I earlier? I held out my hand to touch the hull as I continued making my way to the ladder. When I reached the ladder, happy with myself for having a successful dive, I looked at my air gauge and saw that it read 300 psi. Oh well, I thought to myself, I hadn't achieved perfection yet.

After an excellent dinner cooked by the Sundancer II's amazing chef, Jerry, it was time for the first night dive of the trip. Now, as scary as the idea of diving underwater at night might sound, it is important to understand that when you are diving off of a large ship like the Sundancer II, you are not diving into pitch blackness. The bottom of the ship is lit up like a sports arena, and unless you carelessly wander too far, it is impossible to miss it underwater. Furthermore, each diver is equipped with a flashlight, so the area immediately around you is illuminated well enough.

Nevertheless, diving at night can be quite an eerie experience. As the strobes of my flashlight pierced the dark waters, silvery sturgeons would glisten as they slowly swam by, their eyes white from reflecting the light. The one part of the night dives that were a bit scary for me was being at the edge of a reef wall that dropped down hundreds of feet that the beam of my flashlight could not penetrate. I could not help but think that somewhere down there were leviathans dwelling in the darkness that were best left undisturbed.

During the night dive at Cathedral that night, I had the pleasure of shining my light on a turtle swimming by before anyone else in the group saw it. The turtle then turned left towards us and settled down on the reef just a little bit in front of us. We swam towards it and then it suddenly darted away from us and settled down about 20 feet away. We also saw a group of about five or six small squid in a tightly packed formation. It was a fascinating experience and I finally had my first problem free dive of the trip.

If You Want To Find Osama bin Laden, Stop Looking For Him

Did you ever find yourself frustrated trying to find something you lost somewhere in your house, and then a short while after you gave up looking for it, you suddenly stumble upon the thing you spent so much time looking for? It's happened to me often enough that I now make it a personal policy that if I can't find what I am looking for after five or ten minutes, I make a conscious decision to stop searching.

I'm starting to feel that way about Osama bin Laden. It has been over eight years since 9/11, and Defense Secretary Robert Gates recently admitted that we haven't had any meaningful intelligence as to bin Laden's whereabouts for years.

What's so important about finding him? From the same article from the BBC Online:

Testifying to US Congress, Gen Stanley McChrystal said Bin Laden had become an "iconic figure".

"I don't think that we can finally defeat al Qaeda until he's captured or killed," said Gen McChrystal of Bin Laden.

"I believe he is an iconic figure at this point, whose survival emboldens al-Qaeda as a franchising organization across the world," he said.

The general said that killing or capturing Bin Laden would not spell the end of al-Qaeda but that the movement could not be eradicated while Bin Laden remained at large.

But is bin Laden really still an iconic figure? I could be wrong, but I get the impression that for Islamic militants, he is more like a faded rock star who hasn't had a hit song in years and is coasting on his past glories. After all, what has bin Laden done lately that he can remotely take credit for?

As someone who was in NYC when the Twin Towers fell and who lost a high school classmate on 9/11, I would like to see bin Laden brought to justice as much as anybody. But I think it is a mistake to personalize our anti-terror efforts with regard to bin Laden. If he had been bagged at say Tora Bora in December of 2001, that would have been a major coup. But now, given that he is apparently just a figurehead who does not seem to exercise any meaningful control over al Qaeda, capturing or killing him at this point would be anti-climactic.

It would certainly not have much impact on the situation in Afghanistan. In his blog post "Osama Bin Where?", Imran Khan of Aljazeera acknowledges that "[bin Laden] represents a totem for international jihadis everywhere." However, Khan adds:

"But will killing or capturing him make a difference to the crisis that Pakistan and Afghanistan face?

Not really. It's not al-Qaeda that is creating the biggest problem for both countries, it's the Taliban. In Afghanistan the Taliban are, according to some, moving away from supporting Al Qaeda, instead setting themselves up as a Pashtun fighting force.

If Osama is captured or killed, the Taliban will still be a force to be reckoned with. Neither Pakistan nor Afghanistan will become secure. But if you are the US government right now and you need something that suggests your new AfPak strategy is working, then Bin Laden's head on a platter is looking like a good idea right about now.

Sadly, say many in Pakistan, Bin Laden's head will not make a difference for long term peace in the region."

I think we need to publicly play down Bin Laden's importance and instead focus on the conditions on the ground in Afghanistan and Pakistan. One way of doing that is to gradually reduce the reward for information that aids in the capture and conviction of Osama bin Laden. As of now, as it has been for quite some time, the reward sum on bin Laden's page on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted List has been $25 million dollars. That figure should be reduced by one million dollars every year. For one, it will send the message to anyone who might be contemplating dropping a dime on him that they better hurry up, because the reward will only get smaller with each passing year. Secondly, and perhaps paradoxically, it might provoke bin Laden into making more public pronouncements or feeling safe enough to be less careful in his movements that he will give himself away.

By the way, I got a chuckle out of bin Laden's FBI page where it reads "Occupation: Unknown." I guess terrorist leader doesn't qualify as an occupation.

I have a feeling that some people reading this will disagree with me vehemently, which I can understand. But from my reading of history, there are enemy armies or organizations that fall apart when their leaders are killed (just imagine how different the Civil War would have turned out had Robert E. Lee been killed by a stray bullet in late 1862) whereas other organizations or movements are not dependent on a single dynamic leader and can carry on in the absence of that leader. From what I have read of the commentary from anti-terror experts, al Qaeda falls in the latter category. I also believe, and have for some time, that the battle against Islamic terrorism will ultimately not be won or lost by the United States military, but by Muslims themselves.

Belize Trip - August 1, 2009: We're Not Gonna Need A Bigger Boat

Yes, I'm long overdue with posting about my scuba diving trip to Belize last August. And since I can't really think of anything else to write about lately, I might as well write about my big adventure.

The day got off to a real early start, as I drove to Seascapes in Syosset around 5:30 a.m. where those of us going on the trip were meeting for the bus ride that was chartered to take us to Newark Airport in New Jersey for the flight to Belize City. Apart from Larry, the owner of Seascapes, I did not know any of the other people going on the trip, which was fine, as it turned out quite of few of them did not know each other either.

On the drive to Newark, I chatted with some of my fellow travelers. We were a diverse group in terms of age range, from a couple of guys in their early twenties, Josh and Sam, to an octogenarian named Leo. Sam was a funny guy and turned out to be my roommate on the Sundancer II, the boat featured in the picture above.

The flight to Belize, which I believe arrived around noon local time, was a lot faster than I expected, about two and a half hours. The airport at Belize was not very big, around the size of Islip Airport on Long Island for those who are familiar with it. A couple of representatives from Peter Hughes picked us up at the airport and brought us to the Radisson Fort George in Belize City, which is right by the docks where the Sundancer II was moored. We couldn't board the boat until 3 p.m., because the crew was still tidying the ship up. This is normal, as the previous passengers disembarked earlier that morning. The wait at the Radisson though was the worst part of the trip, as that is where we truly began to feel the heat as we sat by the outdoor bar near the pool. Strangely, the music played over the speakers, rather than being Caribbean music, was from a station playing Eighties hard rock.

Finally, at 3 p.m., one of the crew members came over and told us we could begin boarding. In the passenger galley, a list was posted telling us which rooms we were in. Sam and I got the room on the port side that was closest to the dive deck. Not having been on a liveaboard boat before, I was pleasantly surprised at how spacious everything was.

Above is the bed I slept on with ample storage space below. We also had overhead cabinets that do not appear in this picture. And of course, we had a nice view from our cabin window.

In the early evening, we assembled in the dining and lounge room, where we were officially introduced to the captain and crew of the Sundancer II. The captain of the ship was a tall, strapping Englishman named James Cooke, who acknowledged in his opening remarks that unlike the famous 18th century English navigator, his last name ended with an "e". Captain Cooke and his First Mate, Marnie, described the daily routine that would prevail on the ship for the next five days. Each morning, after breakfast, we would have a briefing of the morning's diving site. For the first three days on the water, there would be five scheduled dives. The first at 8:30, the second at 10:30, the third at 2:00 p.m, the fourth at 4 p.m., and a night dive at 8 p.m., though I could be off a bit on the exact times, as some four months have elapsed. The morning dives would be at one dive site, and the afternoon and night dives would be at a second dive site. On the fourth day, we would dive the famous Blue Hole in the morning, make an excursion in the late morning to visit a bird sanctuary at Half Moon Caye, and then do two afternoon dives and a night dive. The last full day of diving, Thursday, would feature four dives, including a dusk dive, followed by two morning dives on Friday, with an option for a land excursion on Friday afternoon.

Captain Cooke informed us that the ship would be making its way towards the first dive site during the night and that the water might get choppy. I found out the hard way, as I woke up in the middle of the night to take a piss, and I was getting bounced around so hard that I didn't think I could keep my urine stream in the toilet, so I ended up peeing in the shower stall. Sorry, I just had to share that with you.

Tune in for my next post on Day 2, where the diving adventure really begins.

NASA's Lunar Reconaissance Orbiter Beams Back Pictures of Faked Moon Landings

From NASA's web site:

NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, or LRO, has returned its first imagery of the Apollo moon landing sites. The pictures show the Apollo missions' lunar module descent stages sitting on the moon's surface, as long shadows from a low sun angle make the modules' locations evident.

I don't know why I didn't read about this when it happened this past July, having just noticed an article about it on the BBC web site today.

What's really cool is that as we and the other space faring nations of the Earth, such as China, Japan and the EU send more probes to orbit or land on the moon, we will get even better pictures of the Apollo landing sites.

I'm curious as to how the moon landing deniers are going to handle this. They have two options if they wish to maintain their disbelief, (1) to deny the veracity of the photos, which will be harder to do if probes launched by other countries also send back photos of the sites (like China is really going to be in on the conspiracy!), or (2) claim that NASA secretly dumped replicas of the Apollo lunar modules on the surface of the moon to provide bogus evidence to fool people about something that happened decades earlier.



What's really amazing, as you can see (barely) in the picture above from the Apollo 12, are the trails left by the astronauts themselves, which are indicated by the smaller arrows.

Who knows, maybe a hundred years from now the Apollo landing sites will become museums.

Hooray! I Finally Got My Computer Back!

Though it might be another day or two before normal blogging activities resume.