Pope John Paul II Takes Batting Practice in California, 1987

Pope John Paul II had a mixed lega­cy. Some good, some bad. But what­ev­er your take on him, you have to give him this — the Pon­tiff could swing a good bat. Vis­it­ing Cal­i­for­nia in 1987, the 67 year-old Pope head­ed to the bat­ting cages and start­ed lin­ing sin­gles and dou­bles, maybe even a few triples. As the video pro­ceeds, we dis­cov­er that the switch-hit­ting Pope had pre­vi­ous­ly honed his bat­ting skills in the Vat­i­can Soft­ball League. The clip con­cludes with the gra­cious hosts giv­ing the Pope the roy­al treat­ment, treat­ing him to a nice 1980s-style ener­gy drink in a sty­ro­foam cup. Pret­ty posh. h/t Metafil­ter

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All You Need is Love: The Beatles Vanquish Pastor Terry Jones in the Big Apple

New York­ers go out of their way to avoid Times Square, espe­cial­ly at this time of year. What­ev­er the sea­son, it’s sure to be a mob scene of slow mov­ing tourists, mis­er­able Elmos, and loose screw loud­mouths preach­ing mes­sages of intol­er­ance. In this milieu, Flori­da pas­tor Ter­ry Jones is noth­ing spe­cial, and cer­tain­ly less pho­to­genic than the Naked Cow­boy.

Film­mak­ers Hei­di Ewing and Rachel Grady trailed the Quran-burn­ing, effi­gy-hang­ing, failed Pres­i­den­tial can­di­date there any­way, to cap­ture his “mes­sage to the Mus­lim com­mu­ni­ty” on the 10th anniver­sary of Sep­tem­ber 11.

Bystanders roll their eyes and hus­tle past, but only one young woman attempts to engage him direct­ly, smil­ing as if she knows that Jones’ is the sort of shell game you can’t win.

That is until one man breaks into a spon­ta­neous ren­di­tion of All You Need Is Love, the lyrics pulled up on his smart­phone. Was this brave per­for­mance moti­vat­ed in part by the pres­ence of a film crew? Who cares, as ran­dom pedes­tri­ans and staffers from the near­by TKTS booth join in, pro­vid­ing a fine alter­na­tive sound­track to the hate spew­ing from the bull pul­pit. In Ewing and Grady’s edit, the Bea­t­les are a force strong enough to drown him out.

- Ayun Hal­l­i­day would like to teach the world to sing in per­fect har­mo­ny.

 

Google Digitizes Ancient Copies of the Ten Commandments and Genesis

If dig­i­tal tech­nol­o­gy pos­es any threat to the mar­ket for words print­ed on real paper—and the jury is still out on that one—then it must also be cred­it­ed for expos­ing us to texts from the ancient world.

Last fall we post­ed about how the Israel Muse­um dig­i­tized the Dead Sea Scrolls, near­ly 1,000 texts found on the north­west shore of the Dead Sea in 1946. They are the ear­li­est known sur­viv­ing man­u­scripts from what is called the Hebrew Bible. Dig­i­tiz­ing the texts—most were on parch­ment but some were writ­ten on bronze or papyrus—allows view­ers to zoom in to exam­ine the writ­ing and even the paper fibers of hun­dreds of frag­ments.

Now the Israel Antiq­ui­ties Author­i­ty has expand­ed upon the col­lec­tion. Housed in the Leon Levy Dead Sea Scrolls Dig­i­tal Library are the ear­li­est known copies of the Book of Deuteron­o­my (which includes the Ten Com­mand­ments) and Chap­ter One of the Book of Gen­e­sis.

Each scroll frag­ment was scanned using spec­tral imag­ing tech­nol­o­gy that allows for the recov­ery of writ­ing that had fad­ed to near invis­i­bil­i­ty over the years. The boon for schol­ars is clear, but for reg­u­lar folks this archive is bet­ter than a muse­um vis­it. The Leon Levy site is search­able by dis­cov­ery site, con­tent and ancient lan­guage.

Google is mak­ing its mark as a major facil­i­ta­tor of cul­tur­al preser­va­tion. Anoth­er recent project with ties to ancient texts and his­to­ry is Caminos de Sefarad, a col­lab­o­ra­tion with Red de Jud­erías de España to cre­ate a dig­i­tal map of Spain’s Jew­ish her­itage.

More than 500 land­marks from the Sefarad—the Sephardic Jews before they were expelled from Spain and Por­tu­gal in 1492—are ful­ly anno­tat­ed with cur­rent pho­tos, text and spe­cial details. Vis­it Rib­a­davia, a once-pros­per­ous city in Spain’s north­west moun­tains, and learn about Jew­ish wed­ding tra­di­tions from the Mid­dle Ages. The Jew­ish Quar­ter of Léon is called the Bar­rio Húme­do (Wet Dis­trict) and is known today for its fine wine and food. Use the time­line to keep your­self ori­ent­ed in chrono­log­i­cal his­to­ry and click Street View to see this vibrant dis­trict as it is today.

Kate Rix writes about dig­i­tal media and edu­ca­tion. Read more of her work at and thenifty.blogspot.com.

The Wonder, Thrill & Meaning of Seeing Earth from Space. Astronauts Reflect on The Big Blue Marble

On Decem­ber 7, 1972, the Apol­lo 17 crew took a pho­to­graph of earth that became known as “The Blue Mar­ble” because of the whor­ling clouds above the con­ti­nents. Not the first image of the earth from space, it remains one of the most arrest­ing. To com­mem­o­rate the for­ti­eth anniver­sary of “The Blue Mar­ble,” Plan­e­tary Col­lec­tive, a group of visu­al artists, philoso­phers, and sci­en­tists, released the short film Overview (above) at a screen­ing at Har­vard this past Fri­day. Overview takes its title from author Frank White’s phrase for the per­spec­tive of the earth as seen from space: “The Overview Effect.” White’s book of the same name uses inter­views and writ­ings from thir­ty astro­nauts and cos­mo­nauts to build a the­o­ry about the psy­chol­o­gy of plan­e­tary per­spec­tives.

The film is a pre­lude to a fea­ture-length doc­u­men­tary called Con­tin­u­um, and it intro­duces many of that project’s themes: the inter­de­pen­dence of every­one on earth, the neces­si­ty of adopt­ing a plan­e­tary per­spec­tive, and the meet­ing of cer­tain reli­gious expe­ri­ences with the sci­ences. Through a selec­tion of inter­views with five astro­nauts and philoso­phers asso­ci­at­ed with think tank The Overview Insti­tute, one gets a thrilling and vic­ar­i­ous expe­ri­ence of what it’s like to see Bucky Fuller’s “Space­ship Earth.”  Across all of the respons­es emerge the cen­tral themes of Earth­’s uni­ty, and its fragili­ty: we’re all in this togeth­er, or else, the film con­cludes.

Espe­cial­ly inter­est­ing is the inter­view with Apol­lo astro­naut Edgar Mitchell; he comes to see his expe­ri­ence in mys­ti­cal terms, as a kind of intense med­i­ta­tive state known in San­skrit as savikalpa Samad­hi, a union with the divine. Dr. Mitchell’s attempts to inte­grate sci­en­tif­ic prac­tice and human con­scious­ness par­al­lel those of Plan­e­tary Col­lec­tive and The Overview Insti­tute, all of whom seek in their own ways to help the human race achieve a shift in per­spec­tive sim­i­lar to what the astro­nauts expe­ri­enced, a shift so well artic­u­lat­ed by Carl Sagan in his Cos­mos doc­u­men­tary series and his 1994 book Pale Blue Dot. Inspired by anoth­er icon­ic image of the earth from space, Voy­ager 1’s pho­to from 4 bil­lion miles out, Sagan’s mus­ings took a mys­ti­cal turn, but nev­er left the ground of sound sci­en­tif­ic rea­son­ing. His “Pale Blue Dot” has become a metaphor for a sim­i­lar per­spec­tive as White’s “overview effect,” albeit one con­sid­er­ably more detached. Watch Sagan’s words brought to life below by ani­ma­tion stu­dio ORDER.

via @kirstinbutler

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

Bertrand Russell and F.C. Copleston Debate the Existence of God, 1948

On Jan­u­ary 28, 1948 the British philoso­phers F.C. Cople­ston and Bertrand Rus­sell squared off on BBC radio for a debate on the exis­tence of God. Cople­ston was a Jesuit priest who believed in God. Rus­sell main­tained that while he was tech­ni­cal­ly agnos­tic on the exis­tence of the Judeo-Chris­t­ian God–just as he was tech­ni­cal­ly agnos­tic on the exis­tence of the Greek gods Zeus and Poseidon–he was for all intents and pur­pos­es an athe­ist.

The famous debate is divid­ed into two parts: meta­phys­i­cal and moral. In the meta­phys­i­cal part, which is pre­sent­ed here, Cople­ston espous­es what is known as the cos­mo­log­i­cal argu­ment for the exis­tence of God. Ele­ments of the cos­mo­log­i­cal argu­ment go back at least as far as Pla­to and Aris­to­tle, who held that the uni­verse required a “prime mover” out­side of itself. The ver­sion embraced by Cople­ston is derived from one of Thomas Aquinas’ five ways to prove the exis­tence of God. In his Sum­ma The­o­log­i­ca, Aquinas writes:

The third way is tak­en from pos­si­bil­i­ty and neces­si­ty and runs thus. We find in nature things that are pos­si­ble to be and not pos­si­ble to be, since they are found to be gen­er­at­ed and cor­rupt­ed. But it is impos­si­ble for these always to exist, for that which can not-be at some time is not. There­fore, if every­thing can not-be, then at one time there was noth­ing in exis­tence, because that which does not exist begins to exist only through some­thing already exist­ing. There­fore if at one time noth­ing was in exis­tence, it would have been impos­si­ble for any­thing to have begun to exist; and thus now noth­ing would be in existence–which is absurd. There­fore, not all beings are mere­ly pos­si­ble, but there must exist some­thing the exis­tence of which is nec­es­sary. But every nec­es­sary thing has its neces­si­ty caused by anoth­er, or not. Now it is impos­si­ble to go on to infin­i­ty in nec­es­sary things which have their neces­si­ty caused by anoth­er, as has already been proved in regard to effi­cient caus­es. There­fore, we can­not but admit the exis­tence of some being hav­ing of itself its own neces­si­ty, and not receiv­ing it from anoth­er, but rather caus­ing in oth­ers their neces­si­ty. This all men speak of as God.

Cople­ston adopts Got­tfried Wil­helm Leib­niz’s Prin­ci­ple of Suf­fi­cient Rea­son as a cor­ner­stone of his argu­ment. In his 1714 essay “The Prin­ci­ples of Nature and Grace, Based on Rea­son,” Leib­niz asserts that noth­ing can exist with­out a suf­fi­cient rea­son, includ­ing the Uni­verse. “This suf­fi­cient rea­son for the exis­tence of the Uni­verse can­not be found in the series of con­tin­gent things,” writes Leib­niz. “The suf­fi­cient rea­son, there­fore, which needs not fur­ther rea­son, must be out­side of this series of con­tin­gent things and is found in a sub­stance which…is a nec­es­sary being bear­ing the rea­son for its exis­tence with­in itself; oth­er­wise we should not yet have a suf­fi­cient rea­son with which to stop. This final rea­son for things is called God.”

Rus­sell takes excep­tion to Cople­ston’s use of Leib­niz’s con­cept of a nec­es­sary being. The term “nec­es­sary,” he argues, can only be applied to ana­lyt­ic propo­si­tions–propo­si­tions which are derived log­i­cal­ly and which would be self-con­tra­dic­to­ry to deny. An ana­lyt­ic propo­si­tion would fall under Leib­niz’s cat­e­go­ry of “truths of rea­son,” or a pri­ori truths. Yet Cople­ston admits his argu­ment is based on a pos­te­ri­ori grounds, or what Leib­niz called “truths of fact.” Rus­sell first poked holes in Leib­niz’s ver­sion of the cos­mo­log­i­cal argu­ment near­ly half a cen­tu­ry before his debate with Cople­ston. In A Crit­i­cal Expo­si­tion of the Phi­los­o­phy of Leib­niz, pub­lished in 1900, Rus­sell says of the cos­mo­log­i­cal argu­ment:

It has a for­mal vice, in that it starts from finite exis­tence as its datum, and admit­ting this to be con­tin­gent, it pro­ceeds to infer an exis­tent which is not con­tin­gent. But as the pre­miss is con­tin­gent, the con­clu­sion also must be con­tin­gent. This is only to be avoid­ed by point­ing out that the argu­ment is ana­lyt­ic, that it pro­ceeds from a com­plex propo­si­tion to one which is log­i­cal­ly pre­sup­posed in it, and that nec­es­sary truths may be involved in those that are con­tin­gent. But such a pro­ce­dure is not prop­er­ly a proof of the pre­sup­po­si­tion. If a judge­ment A pre­sup­pos­es anoth­er B, then, no doubt, if A is true, B is true. But it is impos­si­ble that there should be valid grounds for admit­ting A, which are not also grounds for admit­ting B. In Euclid, for exam­ple, if you admit the propo­si­tions, you must admit the axioms; but it would be absurd to give this as a rea­son for admit­ting the axioms.

Per­haps the most mem­o­rable moment of the debate on the cos­mo­log­i­cal argu­ment comes near the end, when Rus­sell crit­i­cizes Cople­ston’s asser­tion that because every­thing con­tained with­in the Uni­verse is con­tin­gent, the Uni­verse as a whole must also be con­tin­gent. “I can illus­trate what seems to me your fal­la­cy,” says Rus­sell. “Every man who exists has a moth­er, and it seems to me your argu­ment is that there­fore the human race must have a moth­er, but obvi­ous­ly the human race has­n’t a mother–that’s a dif­fer­ent log­i­cal sphere.” For Rus­sell it was enough to accept that the Uni­verse sim­ply exists. Or as David Hume points out in his Dia­logues Con­cern­ing Nat­ur­al Reli­gion, if there must be a nec­es­sar­i­ly exis­tent being, why can’t it be the Uni­verse as a whole?

The audio ver­sion of the debate above is abridged. To read a tran­script of the entire debate, click here to open the text in a new win­dow.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Face to Face with Bertrand Rus­sell: ‘Love is Wise, Hatred is Fool­ish’

Three Pas­sions of Bertrand Rus­sell (and a Col­lec­tion of Free Texts)

Hugh Hefner Defends “the Playboy Philosophy” to William F. Buckley (1966)

“Mr. Hefn­er’s mag­a­zine is most wide­ly known for its total expo­sure of the human female,” says William F. Buck­ley, intro­duc­ing the guest on this 1966 broad­cast of his talk show Fir­ing Line. “Though of course oth­er things hap­pen in its pages.” Not long before, pub­lish­er and plea­sure empire-builder Hugh Hefn­er’s Play­boy mag­a­zine ran a series of arti­cles on “the Play­boy phi­los­o­phy,” a set of obser­va­tions of and propo­si­tions about human sex­u­al­i­ty that pro­vid­ed these men fod­der for their tele­vised debate. Hefn­er stands against reli­gious­ly man­dat­ed, chasti­ty-cen­tered codes of sex­u­al moral­i­ty; Buck­ley demands to know how Hefn­er earned the qual­i­fi­ca­tions to issue new codes of his own. Describ­ing the Play­boy phi­los­o­phy as “sort of a hedo­nis­tic util­i­tar­i­an­ism,” Buck­ley tries simul­ta­ne­ous­ly to under­stand and demol­ish these 20th-cen­tu­ry revi­sions of the rules of sex.

“The Play­boy founder is no match for the Catholic who snipes him at will with ‘moral’ bul­lets,” writes the poster of the video. “The acer­bic, dry Buck­ley is on attack mode with a con­ser­v­a­tive audi­ence, in moral pan­ic, behind him. The Catholic had the era of con­ser­vatism behind him. [ … ] In the 21st cen­tu­ry though, Buck­ley (passed 2008) would have a hard­er time defend­ing moral­i­ty with Hefn­er.” One won­ders how, were Buck­ley still alive, he and Hefn­er might approach these issues were they to revis­it this debate today. Times have cer­tain­ly changed, but I sus­pect Buck­ley would raise the same core objec­tion to Hefn­er’s argu­ment that loos­en­ing the old stric­tures on sex leads, per­haps coun­ter­in­tu­itive­ly, to more sat­is­fied, more monog­a­mous pair­ings: “How in the hell do you know?” Though this and cer­tain oth­er of Buck­ley’s ques­tions occa­sion­al­ly wrong-foot Hefn­er, the faith­ful can rest assured that he keeps enough cool to fire up his sig­na­ture pipe on cam­era.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

375+ Episodes of William F. Buckley’s Fir­ing Line Now Online: Fea­tures Talks with Chom­sky, Borges, Ker­ouac, Gins­berg & More

Yeah, Baby! Deep Pur­ple Gets Sha­gadel­ic on Play­boy After Dark

James Bald­win Bests William F. Buck­ley in 1965 Debate at Cam­bridge Uni­ver­si­ty

Jack Ker­ouac Meets William F. Buck­ley (1968)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

60-Second Adventures in Religion: Watch New Animations by The Open University

Amer­i­can friends who went study­ing abroad in the Great Britain of the 70s all have a sto­ry about dis­cov­er­ing the Open Uni­ver­si­ty. They usu­al­ly did so late at night, more than a lit­tle ine­bri­at­ed, and well into a bout of semi-exot­ic chan­nel-flip­ping. Sud­den­ly they’d stum­ble upon a plaid-jack­et­ed lec­tur­er intro­duc­ing psy­chol­o­gy, say, or biol­o­gy, or some branch of lit­er­a­ture, and find them­selves sur­prised and trans­fixed. Back then, the OU had to lean on tele­vi­sion and radio as con­tent dis­tri­b­u­tion sys­tems, but now that they can make use of the inter­net, they’ve put out all sorts of edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als of great inter­est to Open Cul­ture read­ers. We’ve pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured their 60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Thought and 60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Eco­nom­ics. Now you can watch and learn about anoth­er sub­ject from the lat­est in their series of ani­mat­ed, joke-filled intel­lec­tu­al primers, 60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Reli­gion.

“Karl Marx was a Ger­man philoso­pher-econ­o­mist, and the least fun­ny of the Marx­es,” says the nar­ra­tor of the first adven­ture, “Reli­gion as Social Con­trol.” “He famous­ly called reli­gion ‘the opi­um of the peo­ple,’ in that reli­gion was not only used by those in pow­er to oppress the work­ers, but it also made them feel bet­ter about being oppressed when they could­n’t afford real opi­um.” The oth­er three adven­tures approach reli­gion as rit­u­al, reli­gion as moth­er, and reli­gion as virus. Each video (watch them below) ref­er­ences a dif­fer­ent the­o­rist and takes their views as seri­ous­ly as such a humor­ous project can, though they all avoid ascrib­ing absolute author­i­ty to any­one in par­tic­u­lar. The fourth install­ment, for instance, opens by quot­ing Richard Dawkins, whom the nar­ra­tor intro­duces as “an athe­ist, evo­lu­tion­ary biol­o­gist, and prob­a­bly not some­one you should ask to be a god­fa­ther.” But hear­ing about his thoughts on the virus of reli­gion will cer­tain­ly get you curi­ous about what else OU has to offer on the sub­ject.

(You can also down­load 60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Reli­gion on iTunes.)

Reli­gion as Rit­u­al

Reli­gion as Moth­er

Reli­gion as Virus

Relat­ed Con­tent:

60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Eco­nom­ics: An Ani­mat­ed Intro to The Invis­i­ble Hand and Oth­er Eco­nom­ic Ideas

60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Thought

Sci­ence Behind the Bike: Four Videos from the Open Uni­ver­si­ty on the Eve of the Tour de France

540 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

“Do Scientists Pray?”: A Young Girl Asks Albert Einstein in 1936. Einstein Then Responds.

einstein on god

Albert Ein­stein endeav­ored to express his view of God as forth­right­ly as pos­si­ble to a pub­lic eager to know where he stood in the pop­u­lar con­flict between sci­ence and reli­gion. In 1936, a sixth-grade girl named Phyl­lis wrote him a let­ter on behalf of her Sun­day School class. “We have brought up the ques­tion,” she wrote, “Do sci­en­tists pray? It began by ask­ing whether we could believe in both sci­ence and reli­gion.” Einstein’s reply is some­what equiv­o­cal. He is clear enough in stat­ing that a sci­en­tif­ic fideli­ty to the “laws of nature” means that “a sci­en­tist can­not be inclined to believe that the course of events can be influ­enced by prayer, that is, by a super­nat­u­ral­ly man­i­fest­ed wish.” This would seem to set­tle the ques­tion. How­ev­er, he goes on to invoke the philoso­pher Spinoza’s god and dis­tin­guish between intel­lec­tu­al humil­i­ty and won­der, on the one hand, and a more pop­u­lar, super­nat­ur­al faith on the oth­er.

How­ev­er, we must con­cede that our actu­al knowl­edge of these forces is imper­fect, so that in the end the belief in the exis­tence of a final, ulti­mate spir­it rests on a kind of faith. Such belief remains wide­spread even with the cur­rent achieve­ments in sci­ence.

But also, every­one who is seri­ous­ly involved in the pur­suit of sci­ence becomes con­vinced that some spir­it is man­i­fest in the laws of the uni­verse, one that is vast­ly supe­ri­or to that of man. In this way the pur­suit of sci­ence leads to a reli­gious feel­ing of a spe­cial sort, which is sure­ly quite dif­fer­ent from the reli­gios­i­ty of some­one more naive.

This is prob­a­bly not the response that Phyl­lis and her class had hoped for, and they (or their teacher) may have tak­en offense at the descrip­tion of their faith as “naïve.” But Einstein’s care­ful reply also express­es a kind of sci­en­tif­ic awe that acknowl­edges the lim­its of rea­son and leads to a kind of sub­lime feel­ing that can legit­i­mate­ly be called “reli­gious” (much as Carl Sagan would do decades lat­er). This, I believe, is not a casu­al or cal­lous dis­missal of Phyllis’s faith, some­thing that so-called “New Athe­ists” are often accused of (just­ly or not). Instead it’s a con­sid­ered response in which the great physi­cist shares his own ver­sion of “faith”–his faith in Nature, or the “laws of the uni­verse,” which he con­cedes are “vast­ly supe­ri­or to man.” I think it’s a mov­ing exchange between two peo­ple who couldn’t be fur­ther apart in their under­stand­ing of the world, but who just may have found some small com­mon ground in con­sid­er­ing each other’s posi­tions for a moment.

Ein­stein’s cor­re­spon­dence comes to us via the always illu­mi­nat­ing Let­ters of Note

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

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