Rational Skepticism Without Condescension

On one of the discussion lists I subscribe to, there are frequent questions about "fringe science" — particularly involving energy, since the topic of discussion is "alternative energy". I have yet to receive a message that contained something both revolutionary in scale and backed by science (and likewise, seldom is a topic banal and poorly explained). An example is "eloptic energy" which describes some kind of field around all objects that can theoretically be tapped.

I have trouble describing it in any serious way. Its science begins by neglecting well-explored and well-understood properties of fields — basically that to get energy using a field, you have to put energy in. It's the way generators work (it's the combination of a magnet and a wire moving past one another). Another example might be to use the force of a river to do work by presenting resistance (like in the case of a water wheel). I guess the buzz around eloptic energy is that you don't need to add energy to get the energy out — analogous to working a water wheel while moving with the current of the river … a boat-mounted water wheel, if you will.

But even there, I take a condescending attitude that I can't seem to avoid. I shake my head and roll my eyes, frustrated that I must defend myself against lunacy with rational argument. This feeling of aggravation seems to come from two factors.

First is the misunderstanding or misapplication of science. The basics of the scientific method are to conceive a theory, develop an experiment with measurable, repeatable results, and ascertain whether the experiment supports the theory; then repeat ad infinitum. Everything we claim to know in science is based on a chain of everything we figured out before. It seems that people who entertain pseudo-science theories believe that science is a bureaucratic ivory tower of knowledge sanctioned by self-proclaimed experts. Sometimes bureaucratic, ivory-tower, self-proclaimed experts try to sanction knowledge, but that is not science.

The other is the appropriation of words that have an established meaning to give the illusion of credibility. Words like "energy" have a specific, well-defined meaning, so to use them in relation to something else is nothing less than lying. One example was during a discussion of essential oils (not on the discussion list) where they used "megahertz" as a unit to quantify the relative power of the oils. It was frustrating that nobody else in the room wanted to ask what part of the oil was vibrating (as "megahertz" exclusively means "millions of times per second"), and if it was in the radio-frequency range like the speaker implied, could we tune in a radio to hear it?

Of course, as I wrote before, there is no way to discern an expert from a non-expert in a field that you are not familiar with. In the end, it comes down to whether you believe one person or another. And when it comes to belief, well, there's really no point in arguing.

Doubt at the Little

Ali and I went to The Little (240 East Ave.) to see Doubt. It's a fascinating film which, although obviously different from the play (which neither of us saw), is extremely strong. I suppose it could only help that the film was written and directed by the original playwright, John Patrick Shanley. The story primarily follows Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the minister of St. Nicholas in the Bronx in 1964, and Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), the principal of the affiliated school. Flynn takes an interest in one of the students: Donald Muller — a black boy in an otherwise all-white school. Sister Aloysius fully believes Flynn molested Donald and intends to ensure he [Flynn — duh] is punished.

The audience is left to their own beliefs to ascertain whether Flynn molested Donald. I found this fascinating, as I maintained his innocence throughout the film but realized afterward that I could experience the film again completely differently by believing he was guilty.

Sister Aloysius is someone who would act to destroy based on their beliefs. I think it's a particular kind of logic that permits this: believing that one's belief alone is more true than having no factual basis — perhaps a manifestation of the nature of faith (although in the case of religious faith, it's more about filling a gap in that which is knowable). The trouble is, there is an element of circular justification: if she succeeds in destroying Flynn's reputation, she feels justified, but by putting her own reputation on the line in making such an accusation, she has no choice but to fight to destroy Flynn's reputation no matter whether he was guilty or not.

Sister James, meanwhile, acts as a foil to Sister Aloysius by believing in the kindness of others. Sister Aloysius' long-time experience as disciplinarian provides her only with evidence of sin and wrongdoing. So is it Sister James' naiveté or Sister Aloysius' limited perspective that is at fault?

For myself, I find that when factual evidence is not available, belief in kindness is the more fruitful path. As is the case with Sister Aloysius, believing more in evil makes you a destructive force in the world whereas believing more in good opens up the possibility of being constructive.

But equally important is that it makes you happier to believe that people are generally kind.

FileMaker Failed to Save the Wrong Version of this Entry About Jesse Sprinkle and Burning Daylight [hooray!]

OK, this one's specifically dedicated to John Lam. Whenever we talk about JayceLand, he frequently comments that I don't blog "properly" — often posting an entry for — say today — on next Wednesday. So this one's for you, John: it's 2:59 a.m. and after the event about which I'm about to blog. …

So I went to Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) earlier. I arrived in time to catch just a song-and-a-half of Jesse SprinkleMySpace link. I liked what I heard, but don't feel confident opining further due to insufficient experience. Next was Burning DaylightGarageBand link who are really swell. Jesse plays drums in this band — and I met lead-singer/guitarist Nick and bassist Tim afterward. I generally stand by my database-stored comment from December 21, 2006 at the Bug Jar: "unremarkable bar-rock except when they get more punk-rock". [No offense, guys: let me qualify …]

I had a great time. I considered heading to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) for the metal and metal-like show featuring (among others) SulacoMySpace link (featuring some friends of mine) but instead, I opted to get a pint or two (or three) at Monty's KrownMySpace link (875 Monroe Ave.) instead and enjoy some, well, bar-rock. Burning DaylightGarageBand link does a fine job with a mix of [mostly] originals and [some] covers in a bar-rock/punk-rock style. I mean, what more can I say? Have you been at a bar where some band was playing and had a drink or two, and noted, "hey, these guys are pretty good."? It's that kind of personal experience that really doesn't carry over well to radio-play or other popular, substantive fame. It's just … well … nice. With notably-sexceptional exceptions like "Black Soul, Black Heart", it's not the kind of thing you're going to get nagging in your head. But that one song can keep you coming back.

Heck, maybe it's whatever it was that Ali and her friend were so impressed that the band played for them. Or maybe it's just that Tim's this kind of faux-Canadian [in the "gosh, aren't those Canadian folks polite and kind" kind of way] Buffalo … umm … resident. Or that I owe Nick, Tim, and Jesse a drink [and $1.33 more each] for giving me their CD (Jesse 2x for supplying his personal-favorite own CD in addition).

In conclusion, thanks: you guys gave me a great time (even despite that poor dude who got carried away by ambulance for whatever reason … at least it wasn't body-bag). So when you're at your regularly-paying day-jobs, know that I thought your time was worth its while. Sure, your songs aren't on 'BER regularly [or are they?: I'm so irritated by the Guisto-inspired BOCES-training-esque 'play what the people want' kind of crap that I barely listen anymore].

But whatever: play live and there's someone there who'll love it.

The Afternoon Before Christmas

Since Christmas is on a Thursday, like in 2003, I'm sure you're all expecting some kind of JayceLand twist on 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, but I'm taking the holiday off.  So my computer is dark — not even a blink from the optical mouse.  [Be glad I'm not going to write any more!]

Anyway, have a great day on Christmas if you're doing anything, and if not, just enjoy the relative quiet and absence of nutjobs racing here and there on the roads like on a typical weekday.

Doing the Mistletoe Mingle

Ali, Christina, and I decided to do the Mistletoe Mingle pub crawl. As it turned out, it wasn't associated with Michael Warren Thomas at all — it was part of The Business Association of the South Wedge Area (BASWA) under the Savor Our Flavor moniker. We started at Little Venice Pizza (742 South Ave., formerly Skippy's) so Christina could get some food in her stomach before drinking; Ali and I had already eaten. From there we started at the north end at The South Wedge Colony Bar and Grill (503 South Ave., formerly Dashen Restaurant) I still have very lukewarm feelings about the place — it just seems so much like a poor imitation of an East Avenue bar; and as such, it wouldn't get better by being a better imitation. We got our first playing card there for the poker contest.

Next we went to Solera Wine BarMySpace link (647 South Ave.) and picked up another card and had a decent glass of wine that was on-special for the crawl. At Lux LoungeMySpace link (666 South Ave.) we figured out the card-marking scheme and devised a way to cheat — the goal was to have the best 5-card poker hand at the last of seven bars. The Beale Street Cafe (689 South Ave.) offered welcome relief as they set up their back restaurant room for the pub crawl and we got a chance to sit down and warm up for a bit. But it was short-lived as we headed for The Tap and Mallet (381 Gregory St.) a half-hour later. Although The Keg (315 Gregory St., behind German House where Rohrbach's used to be) set me up with a half-shot "shot" drink special, at least the band was amusing and there were holiday cookies and stuff.

Caverly's Pub (741 South Ave., formerly Genesee Co-op Credit Union) was our last stop and we paced our drinks well by skipping a few along the way. It turned out our cheating scheme was for naught — Ali had an honest full house which was better than we could have cheated together. Alas, someone else pulled out 5 aces that went unchecked, card-marking-wise. The way I figure it, the odds of getting 5 or more aces from 7 decks is about 399,672:1 against so, although possible, I kind of doubt it was done honestly. Regardless, we had quite a good time.

Ali's Birthday Dinner at Scotch 'N Sirloin

For Ali's birthday dinner (albeit the day prior), we went to Scotch 'N Sirloin (3450 Winton Pl., #25 in Winton Plaza). Although I'd seen it many times [it's been around for 36 years, far longer than I've lived in Rochester], I never gave it a passing thought to, well, try it.

It turned out, it's really quite good — on par with other local stalwarts like Pomodoro Grill and Wine Bar (1290 University Ave.) As evident by their name, steak is what it's about, and they do a heck of a job of it. My top sirloin was extremely satisfying — and thankfully modest-sized. Ali's filet mignon was also very good, and she added the crab legs which were already cut open (to her dismay).

Overall it's rather expensive and worth it.

Bird Show, Sun Circle, and Autumn in Halifax at the Bug Jar

I headed out to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) a second time [and a late update to the JayceLand page, in case you wondered if you missed it the first time]. First up was Bird Show which consisted of one guy playing synth-sourced, digitally-altered, experimental, anti-melodic, anti-tempo music. It was a lot like interesting ambient — only not mellow. Next was Sun CircleMySpace link who did a trippy meditative set — in one song, for instance, they harmonized reed instruments with a rolling synth tone and burned incense; it was actually a lot better than you might expect.

Finishing up was Autumn In HalifaxMySpace link — joined by "leaves" Joe Tunis and R. Scott OliverMySpace link. Although I loved Dave's solo work when he first started playing as Halifax, I've come to really enjoy the new line-up, especially now that it's more mature. The lush poetry of Dave's lyrics works just as well now as it did before, only now it's set against a more traditional three-piece band.

Lobster Quadrille, Township, and Auld Lang Syne at the Bug Jar

I guess it's been a while since I wrote any reports of performances, much less one where I see a band. I still get out — although less often than I used to — and tonight was one of those cases. I went to The Bug JarMySpace link (219 Monroe Ave.) and got there a bit early so I had a chance to catch up with the folks in The Lobster QuadrilleMySpace link. As it turns out, they were up first — there was some confusion about who was when, as it was Auld Lang SyneMySpace link's show (so they got top billing) and TownshipMySpace link came in from Boston.

Anyhow, The Lobster QuadrilleMySpace link did a great set. I found myself particularly mesmerized by Love is Cold. I've mentioned it hundreds of times [okay, for each of the last 29 of their shows I posted], but they do a great rendition of satirical gospel with all of 6 [or is it 7?] people on stage performing. Lead singer Solomon commented afterward that he felt the set was a bit melancholic feeling; although I think that "melancholic" suits them quite well.

Next up was TownshipMySpace link who I really enjoyed as well. They do a crisp, fresh version of classic rock. I even bought their CD which I've been enjoying as well. Finishing up was Auld Lang SyneMySpace link who I've now finally had the chance to hear. The night was getting a bit long for me, but I stayed enough to find they played a great heavy-hitting proto-rock that I'll likely seek out in future shows.

Wintry Mix and Spin

Ali and I headed to The Blue Horizon Restaurant (1174 Brooks Ave.) for breakfast. The place is definitely an ideal diner. Anyway, this morning it snowed a little — maybe an inch or so — and we didn't think it was a big deal, so we decided to drive out to check out gas fireplaces. Ali mentioned a place on Hudson [which I think is Fireplace Fashions (1936 Hudson Ave.)] and we also wanted to head out to Pettis Pools; the waitress helped us out and found the address in the phone book and we decided to try and find Pettis Pools and Patio (1186 Manitou Rd., Hilton) first.

We headed out on 390 and noted that we were at the Blue Horizon when the big car crash happened that closed it back in February of this year. I was driving the Roadmaster and when we got to the turn onto 490 West, I slowed way down, expecting that there might be ice as it was exactly 32°F outside. The turn was pretty clear, though … until I went to accelerate onto 490. The big wagon started fish-tailing but I managed to reel it back in and avoid either spinning out or hitting anyone else. The highway was pretty much wet with a slushy mix, but there was something wrong: there were dozens of cars spun out and off the road.

The mystery was solved on the first bridge we came to as the wagon fish-tailed a bit again. Since it was straight road and only for 50 yards or so, it wasn't hard to keep things under control.  We forged ahead, but saw more and more cars spun out. Apparently every single bridge was covered in solid ice, albeit giving the illusion that it was just more wet slush. We decided to give up our quest and get off at the next exit, but there was one more surprise.

A Honda Pilot started to go out of control in front of us on the next overpass.  It swerved left then swung right and ended up skidding sideways down the road and slamming into the right guardrail, coming to rest right in our lane.  Ali wanted me to stop, but I was on the icy bridge and was just barely touching the brakes until we cleared the overpass and I braked hard, stopping in time to avoid T-boning the poor guy.  The driver of the Pilot got it out of the way and I decided to just run over the piece of plastic bumper laying in the road.  Unfortunately it was dragging under the car.  Fortunately we ran it over when I got onto the shoulder and we got the hell out of there.

We were passed by a car going far too fast and then likewise by a charter bus (which was also half into our lane, the prick).  The exit to Rt. 386 was next and I couldn't bear to watch the bus careen across that overpass — and, naturally, also couldn't avoid watching.  However, they successfully slowed down for the cars that had already spun out.  The trip home was much slower and safer — amusingly taking us right past the Blue Horizon once again.

Watching The Exiles with Ali at the Dryden

Ali and I went to the Dryden Theater at George Eastman House (900 East Ave.) to see The Exiles. The description given in the Eastman House calendar was tantalizing, as the film has almost never been screened for 50 years, and it documents Native Americans living in Los Angeles in the 1960's. Sprinkle in phrases like, "seamlessly mixes documentary and narrative techniques" and "deeply emotional and personal achievement", and I'm sold.

Our reaction to the film, however, was one of grand disappointment. It's an arduous film to watch full of interchangeably unlikeable, apathetic characters. In addition, the dialog was dubbed in the studio and loses all of its emotional expression in the process — in fact, according to the program notes authored by K. A. Westphal, the entire soundtrack was meticulously recreated long after shooting was completed [definitely read it for some unbelievable trivia]. In total, though, the film completely neglects the audience and instead slowly stews in its own world.

As such, the film is considered a masterpiece — in part because it deliberately rejects a serviceable narrative, and simply documents the lives of people who are essentially unremarkable jerks. As other reviewers noted, this undesirability of the characters seems to work against the cause of helping Native Americans. However, I took away the point that it was far too late — even in the 1960's — for the Native American cause. The people depicted on screen are the walking dead of a lost civilization. They drift from heartbeat to heartbeat, resigned to a purposeless fate: their entire culture having been wiped from the earth in what amounts to a mass genocide.

So in a way, I agree that it is a masterpiece. It spoke of the situation of recently-displaced Native Americans (who have been generationally displaced to boot) and what happens when you do that to someone. However, it's akin to experiencing the beauty of a sword by having someone slice your arm open with it. You can appreciate the workmanship and detail, but its true function is to cut and to kill, so what better way to truly immerse yourself in its beauty than by taking part in its primary function? The amoral, artistic side of me understands that that would be the pinnacle of sword examination, but the rest of me, well, doesn't really want to get cut.

And so, with my mighty blog and website and stuff, I set forth a demand to appeal to the audience. [And by that, I mean that I know that there are some Eastman House employees who will read this, and might consider bringing it up at a programming meeting, if the mood suits them.] My friends and I have had this kind of experience many times before: when a film is considered "great" or "important" for reasons other than how well it is appreciated by the average audience, but is noted for being altogether brilliant in its cinematic quality. I, personally, tend to enjoy these films too, but I need to be mentally prepared for them, and when I'm unprepared and end up getting blindsided, I find myself alienating the Dryden. I seek other avenues for entertainment … at least for a while. And I always end up coming back, and hopefully sooner than later.

I propose, therefore, that the Dryden begin offering "audience appreciation" films. This is different from "popcorn movies" which offer purely an experience of entertainment; rather a delineation of cinematic masterpieces that overlaps the "popcorn" genre. It's movies where the filmmakers consider the audience to be the most important part of the process.

Understandably, it's a difficult aspect to divine — after all, The Exiles had the audience at the forefront of its production as much as any other movie, and perhaps even more for respecting their knowledge and wisdom. Consider how different it is from Encounters At the End of the World, though: it's as if the audience is a cherished friend invited to explore something new and fascinating rather than colleagues already insatiably interested in the topic at hand.

Put simply, there's a difference between "cinematically important" and "enjoyable".