Recently I saw a video on YouTube
that shows kittens and dogs meeting for the first time.
The video is incredibly sweet,
and watching these natural enemies play together made me think that humans are
bringing about an incredible new thing on this planet: interspecies love and
affection. Without the influence of humans, these cats and dogs would never be
snuggling together for naps or playing games.
Anyone who has ever owned a pet
knows that animals are loving, caring, loyal, trusting, and forgiving. But in
the wild, animals can usually only share this love with members of their own
species. There
are the rare examples of animals caring for members of another species in
the wild, but from what I can find these are usually cases where a mother has
adopted an infant.
But when animals get
domesticated, because they no longer have to worry about survival, particularly
obtaining food, they are freed up to express empathy and take care of other
animals. This
article gives examples of some unlikely pairings, including an orangutan
caring for tiger cubs, a male pig with a lamb, and a chihuahua with a marmoset
(great pictures at the website). The book Unlikely Friendships, by National
Geographic magazine writer Jennifer Holland, documents 47 stories of
interspecies relationship, including the Biblical lion lying down with the
lamb: a
female lion adopted a baby antelope at a nature reserve in Kenya.
I have heard it said this is a
difficult book, and I disagree—I found it a pleasure to read. Piketty is a good
writer and explains economic terms and concepts very clearly. The only thing
required of a reader is the patience to read page after page of descriptions of
wealth in various times. I have no training in economics, so if you want an economist’s
review of this book, check out Paul Krugman’s review in the New York Review of Books. However, I
have become more and more convinced of the importance of economics in politics
and history, so I have attempted to educate myself. This then is the impression
of Capital by a semi-educated layperson.
Piketty has analyzed an
unprecedented amount of data on wealth and has come to the conclusion that
there is a fundamental mathematical equation that not only explains income and
wealth inequality, but also explains why it will always tend to increase and
concentrate over time.
This equation is r >
g, where r stands for rate of return on capital and g stands for growth of the
overall economy. For most of the period for which there are statistics (beginning
about 1800), r has been greater than g, and this means capital increases
seemingly without limit during these periods.
Much of the 20th
century was an anomaly because of the two world wars and the Great Depression. First,
these events destroyed vast amounts of wealth, particularly in Europe. Second,
they also impacted the values of r and g. The US and Britain pioneered the
concept of confiscatory taxes at the highest income levels—up to 90%, which
reduced r, the rate of return on capital. In addition, there was a great deal
of rebuilding to be done in Europe, an arms race in the US to finance, and an
explosion of consumer products for the new middle-class to purchase (telephone,
radio, washing machine, refrigerator, car, television, computer), which greatly
inflated g, the growth rate. For a few decades after 1950 the basic equation of
capitalism was reversed—g was greater than r. This automatically lowered income
inequality, and created the false impression that capitalism had been tamed and
wealth inequality was a relic of the past.
On this first day of the year that is longer (the day after the
winter solstice), I’m thinking of time. Recently I heard of an idea for a
living clock. Carolus
Linnaeus (1707-1778), the biologist who developed the two-word naming system
for biology, noticed that plants opened and closed their flowers at predictable
times during the day and night. In other words, plants, like animals, have
internal biological clocks.
For
example, Goat’s Beard (Tragopogon pratensis)
flowers open at 3 am, while Dandelion (Taraxacum
officinale) flowers open at 5 am. Linnaeus realized that you could tell
time by looking at which plants’ flowers were open. After researching and
planting a wide variety of plants, he was able to tell time to within a half
hour, just by observing his flowers. Linnaeus drew a diagram of a plant clock,
but it appears he never actually planted one.
I think this would be a lot of fun to try. This
article has a diagram with plants that grow here in North America, like
morning glories (open at 10 am) and California poppy (open at 1 pm). This article
has information about making your own garden, as does this,
and both have a list of many plants and their flowering time.
I haven’t been able to find photos of anyone who has
successfully planted a living clock, so if you know of any please let me know!
Supposedly there is one at the University of Uppsala, in Sweden, where Linnaeus
lived, but I haven’t been able to find photos of it. They do have a “Linnaeus garden” in their
botanical gardens.
What is reality? Is the physical
reality we see around us all there is?
Most scientists insist that
there is nothing but the physical, material universe. They reject any talk of a
reality that can’t be measured empirically with scientific instruments. If it
can’t be measured, it doesn’t exist.
Lately it has become popular in
science to talk of a multi-dimensional reality beyond the four-dimensional
universe (space plus time) we’re all familiar with. For example, string theory,
a branch of physics, posits ten or eleven dimensions of spacetime (or
twenty-six or…). The books I’ve read about string theory (The Hidden Reality and Hyperspace)
explain that the reason we can’t perceive these other dimensions of reality is
because they are really really small—the theory says these other dimensions
must be “curled up” into some tiny space smaller than our measuring devices can
detect. (See this Nova
article or this
short essay by the author of Hyperspace, Dr. Michio Kaku)
People who are spiritually
inclined talk about angels or higher beings that exist on another plane of
existence. Others talk about higher levels or dimensions of consciousness.
There seems to be a common attitude among spiritual seekers that the physical
reality we live in is an illusion or dream, and that the spiritual realm or
higher dimensions are reality.
I think these views about
reality are mistaken, and there’s a fabulous allegory called Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensionsthat explains why
I believe this. Flatland, by Edwin Abbott, is a short novel published in
1884. Mr. Abbott provides a very useful way to imagine how other dimensions can
exist by creating a two-dimensional society called “Flatland.” [Read the full book online, see Carl Sagan discuss it.]
I love roller coasters. When I
go to an amusement park the roller coaster is usually the only ride that
interests me. Many years ago, I went with my stepdaughter to Opryland, a park
near Nashville, and a big thunderstorm came through. We decided to stay at the
park and wait out the storm. Almost everyone else left so, once the storm was
over, we had the unusual experience of having an amusement park to ourselves.
My stepdaughter liked a ride with twirling swings that wasn’t too far from the
roller coaster, so I left her there—she never even had to get off the swing
between rides—and headed over to my favorite. This was a corkscrew coaster,
meaning you spent time upside down. I rode it six times in a row with no
waiting; what a fabulous experience!
Why are roller coasters and
other extreme rides at amusement parks and fairs so popular? Why do we pay to
be scared? Clearly many of us like to experience the simulation of approaching death.
Why is this, when our whole animal nature is programmed to survive at all costs?
The message of my husband and my
book, The
Game of God, (newly revised), is that one reason the universe exists is
to allow unlimited God to experience the roller coaster of life, the ups and
downs of limited existence, which eminently includes life and death. In the
first chapter (read
it here, complete with cartoons) Arthur and I imagine someone who “has it
all,” who is rich, beautiful, and powerful beyond measure, who has no problems,
who is perfectly healthy, and best of all is immortal. That is, someone who is
as close to being unlimited as possible. We ask, “Would there be any experiences this person would
miss?”
We conclude there would be
plenty of missed experiences: from adventure to learning, from falling in love
to anticipation of something new, from struggle to triumph, from fear of dying
to the joy of aliveness. Even riding a roller coaster would lose its excitement
if there were no possibility of risk:
Cartoon by Arthur Hancock, from The Game of God
Recently I saw an old Twilight
Zone episode called “An
Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” This is from a short story by Ambrose
Pierce set during the U.S. Civil War. The TV episode begins with a group of
soldiers preparing to hang a man from a bridge. The soldiers pull the board
that is holding him up out from under his feet, but the rope around his neck breaks
and he is free! He stays under water as the current of the creek carries him
away out of range of the soldiers’ rifles. Once he’s out of sight he climbs up
onto the bank and you can see he feels profoundly alive; he appreciates the
simplest things: breathing, smelling flowers, and the song of birds. Only at
the end do you realize that the rope didn’t break; he did die. The “escape” was
a fantasy that happened in the few seconds between the platform being removed
and his death. But in those seconds he lived.
Somewhere I heard a story about
Civil War veterans that also illustrates this idea that the edge of death
brings about a passionate experience of life (maybe it was from Ken Burns’ “The
Civil War”?). These veterans were imagining heaven, and this was their
conception: every day they would fight a battle, then every evening every
soldier—including those who had “died”—would gather and tell stories around the
campfire. On the surface this seems completely bizarre—who would want to
recreate brutal, bloody battles in heaven? But once you see the link between
risk-of-death and the buzzing energy of aliveness, their fantasy makes sense.
For these men, the most alive they ever felt was on the battlefield.
This wisdom is embedded in many
spiritual traditions. For example, the Tao te Ching teaches that we live in a
dualistic universe of opposites, and that pairs of opposites arise together,
they are linked. We begin the first chapter of The Game of God with a quote
from the Tao:
Under heaven all can see beauty as
beauty
only because there is
ugliness.
All can know good as good only because there
is evil.
Therefore having and not having arise
together.
Difficult and easy compliment each
other.
Long and short contrast each other;
High and low rest upon each other;
Voice and sound harmonize each other;
Front and back follow one another.
Cartoon by Arthur Hancock, from The Game of God
There is a Zen story that answers
the question “What
is Zen?” (see below): A man is in a jungle. A tiger spots him and chases him to a cliff.
The man lowers himself down on a vine until he hears another tiger below. As
he’s hanging there, with death above and below, two mice, a black one and a
white one, start chewing on his vine. Facing certain death, he notices a wild
strawberry plant near him and, plucking a berry and eating it, says, “How
sweet.” In other words, the message of Zen is: experience every moment fully
because death is always lurking.
Don Juan Matus, the Yaqui Indian
shaman in the Carlos Castaneda series, taught Carlos that he should make
friends with his death.
When we deny death, ironically
we deny life. We end up taking life for granted. We don’t see the perfection in
every moment. We think of death as the worst thing that can happen to us, yet
it makes life meaningful.
The Game of God presents the theory that the first purpose of the
universe is to allow unlimited God the experience of limitation—life and death,
beginning and end, fear and hate, happiness and sorrow, ignorance and learning.
In order to have a realistic
experience of limitation, God must forget that She-He-It is God. In other
words, the universe is God…in a state
of amnesia.
The universe is a game in which
God forgets His-Her-Its identity and, in the process of playing, remembers who
She-He-It is.
Evolution is the process of God
awakening from amnesia into the remembrance of His-Her-Its true identity.
The universe is literally An
Expression Of God In Amnesia (AEOGIA). And God likes roller coasters!
In 2007 my
family gathered to celebrate my 50th birthday. My nieces were aged 4
and 5. I bought them some inexpensive digital cameras thinking it would be fun
to see what kind of images they would create.
Unfortunately the cameras didn’t
take very good photos and it looks like we deleted most of them. But it was
really interesting looking at their photos at the time, and I did save a
couple:
I was reminded of these photos
by an article in The New Yorker about
the GoPro camera, “We
Are a Camera,” by Nick Paumgarten. The GoPro is a small HD video
camera with different mounts that can be affixed to all kinds of sporting
equipment. Mr. Paumgarten says an interesting feature of this camera is that
because it primarily points
outward it’s a record of what an experience looks like…The result is not so
much a selfie as a worldie. It’s more like the story you’d tell about an
adventure than the photo that would accompany it.
The author’s son won a GoPro in
a school raffle, and
On a ski vacation that spring,
he affixed it to the top of his helmet…Even though the camera was turned
outward, filled mainly by the sight of the terrain sliding past, it provided,
more than anything, a glimpse into the mind of a dreamy and quiet boy…I didn’t
need a camera to show me what he looked like to the world, but was delighted to
find one that could show me what the world looked like to him. It captured him
better than any camera pointed at him could. This was a proxy, of sorts.