Agnosticism: Evidence based faith.

I was raised to believe that the act of questioning was a virtuous one, by those who refused to question anything for themselves, and who quickly discouraged any line of inquiry which ran contrary to their faith. This inconsistent stance, and others like it, served as a major defining theme of my early childhood and ultimately gave shape to many rather destructive tendencies later on, including a predilection toward highly selective reasoning which continues to this day. On the other hand, my rejection o f these beliefs served to promote a continuing and increasing regimen of self-analysis which borders on the obsessive. This is perhaps unhealthy, but it has served me well over the years. Questioning has, for me, become a way of life.

It was recently pointed out to me by a pastor of my acquaintance that my inability to accept any statement purely on faith is the hallmark of a fundamentalist upbringing. My need for evidence may well stem from this source, and is certainly the cornerstone of my own belief structure.

I am agnostic. The word comes from the Greek words a and gnosis, meaning "without knowledge". Does this mean that I have no knowledge? In a sense, yes it does. Does it mean that I have no faith? Probably not. I often joke that I don't even have the faith necessary to become an atheist. This says something about my default level of faith, but it also says something about atheism: Put simply, just as much faith is required to believe that God does not exist as to believe that he/she/it does exist. Why? Because there is no evidence to support either case.

Personally, I believe without any conclusive proof of my own that anyone who says that they know that God exists or that God does not exist is making a statement based solely on faith, not on fact or even evidence. No such evidence exists, at least in my experience.

This brings us to the more important question, at least as far as I'm concerned. Do I believe that faith is a bad thing? Certainly not. Faith is required in order to get through each and every day: Faith that the sun will rise, that your car will start, that the world outside your bedroom door exists without you. Let's say, for instance that you want to lose 200 pounds this month. Two factors are required in order to motivate you to complete such a goal: Imagination ("I can see myself 200 pounds lighter, and I like what I see"), and faith ("I believe that I can lose 200 pounds in one month"). Without both of these factors, it is unlikely that you would be motivated to get on the treadmill with a wheat germ and beansprout sandwich in hand.

But here's another scenario. What if you only weigh 150 pounds? It would, of course, be impossible for you to lose 200. In such a case, your imagination would be in error, and your faith would clearly be misplaced. This is why it is necessary to temper faith with the observation of evidence ("I just weighed in at 150, so I guess I ought to revise my former estimate"). Blind faith can be at best misleading, and at worst detrimental or even fatal.

For me, each of the following responses is true, based upon my own faith:

• Can I lose two hundred pounds this month? No.
• Can I write the next great American novel? Possibly.
• Does God exist? How the hell should I know?

The spirit of agnosticism, to me at least, is not one of absolute rejection, but rather of constructive questioning and continual revision of one's beliefs, or one's faith. Using these tactics, one is clearly in a much better position for self-improvement as well as planning for the future and making decisions based on logical reasoning, rather than emotional reasoning.

Revenge!

I love a good tale of revenge.

More specifically, I love that citrus sweetness which flows through a bloodless sneer of angry satisfaction. It's a feeling that one waits for years to experience because one has no other choice: The sudden release of old unstable frustrations, like kicking a stick of dynamite, wet with glycerine sweat.

Christian doctrine, Buddhist teachings and simple observation all tell us that escalation of hostility leads invariably to further destruction. To enjoy the ruin of an enemy is wrong, we are told, which is all the more frustrating. This frustration serves to tempt us even further, increasing our enjoyment at such ruin by adding a tinge of guilty pleasure to the mix. To make things worse, an antagonist may be unjustly punished, serving as the focal point for all of one's pent up anger, and not simply that which is related to the initial slight.

Perhaps this is precisely why I enjoy it so much: Such a scapegoat can lead to the illusion of control over one's circumstances, however brief. The enemy we can punch in the face is so much better than the one we cannot directly touch, is it not? Who has not felt the one sided emotional turmoil brought on by such nebulous forces as poverty, repressed passion or idiotic foreign policy?

In the film 28 Days Later, a group of characters spend half of the film trying to survive a hoard of zombies, only to lose a friend to chance circumstances. When, near the end of the film, they are confronted with a tangeable (and punchable) enemy, the main character is allowed to visit the full weight of his rage upon a deserving opponent. Not only does he vent his frustration with this enemy but also with his entire situation.

Another crucial ingredient in this delicious equation is that of self-righteousness: The absolute certainty that one is on the side of angels as one commits unspeakable acts, and hence that one can ultimately be forgiven for such extreme measures. The Count of Monte Christo becomes an agent of providence, thus proving that God and all the universe are on his side.

This brings us back to why I enjoy these brutal tales: In the black and white context of a revenge story, it is possible be certain of such a thing. Reality rarely if ever affords us such a guarantee. I enjoy revenge stories for the brief taste of self-reighteous anger, and the release which they offer from the frustration of reality, where one never knows if one is right or wrong.

Listed below are a few of my favorite revenge stories for your perusal.

Traditional Novel:

• 'The Count of Monte Christo', by Alexandre Dumas
• 'The White Plague', by Frank Herbert

Graphic Novel:

• 'The Crow', by James O'Barr
• 'V for Vendetta' (NOT the film.), by Alan Moore

Film:

• '28 Days Later', Written by Alex Garland and Directed by Danny Boyle
• 'Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan', Written by Harve Bennett and Directed by Nicholas Meyer

Ellis Asks for Entries!

Famed alt-comics writer Warren Ellis, who penned 'Transmetropolitan', 'Orbiter', and 'Planetary' among other things, is asking for webcomic entries for a new site called 'Rocket Pirates'. He's asking for any genre, and says nifty things like "Rocket Pirates will be free to all readers, all the time," and "I'm open to any kind of content. You're going to have to work pretty hard to get me to accept a superhero project for the site, but if you've got something that knocks me flat, I'll take it."

So if you're into doing your own comics, give him something to think about. I'm considering whipping something up myself (If I can find the spare time).

Update: Ellis has temporarily closed his request for submissions, citing the fact that he recieved over 300 submissions in just a few days time. He says he'll reopen them when he's not quite as busy.