Real ID

On the DVDs of the complete The Twilight Zone (or at least the edition I bought over a decade ago), the opening sequence of seasons 3 and 4 both have a voice-over from episode “Five Characters in Search of an Exit,”  calling out “Who are we?”  In context, the disparate characters in a shapeless prison are, in reality, toys that have gained consciousness (and this well before Toy Story).  Having gone through a traumatic scam, and trying to piece life back together, I spend a lot of time on the telephone trying to verify my identity.  This isn’t a simple matter for a guy like me who constantly asks myself the question, “Who am I?”  Descartes, going back to Aristotle, opined we enter life as a tabula rasa, a blank slate.  Those of you who look around the other pages of this website will see that I have as a six-word biography “Missed the first day of school.”  That must’ve been the day when they told us who we were.

Some people have a clear idea of who or what they are.  The surround themselves with tchotchkes of their favorite animal, or symbol, or even screen idol.  Or deity (deities).  Others of us, it seems, are constantly searching, never quite satisfied that we’ve discovered our essence.  I’ve mentioned before that during the CB craze of the eighties my handle was “Searcher.”  I have an innate curiosity and I crave depth of knowledge.  How do you symbolize that?  How is it even an identity?  I ask with Rod Serling’s characters, “Who are we?”  I’m not sure who might answer that.

When I first started this blog I had some hope that I might once again become an academic researching ancient Semitic mythology.  Working a 9-2-5 to acquire material for the company long ago meant that the full-time research needed to keep abreast of the field could not happen.  For several years this blog consisted of wry interpretations of various political- or travel- or reading-related observations about life.  As it became less focused on the world of the Bible I lost most of my original readers.  I thought there might be potential in writing about my fascination with scary stuff.  That caught my wife a bit off-guard since during the time we met, married, and began this journey together, that interest had been dormant.  It revived when I lost the job that I thought defined me.  I still write about horror but have recently felt the draw of dark academia.  Meanwhile the representative from the bank is on the phone asking me to verify my identity.  “It’s complicated,” I want to say.


Born Identity

Richard Dawkins, most famously in The God Delusion, made the claim that children are born without religion. Faith is something we’re taught in the growing up process, and we generally learn it from our parents or guardians. A recent piece in The Guardian (the newspaper, not ersatz parent) by Andrew Brown, stakes a bold, and surely correct, counterclaim: children are not born atheists. This isn’t just wishful thinking. As Brown points out, study after study has shown that people, especially children, are prone to belief. Where Dawkins does have a claim to verisimilitude, however, is that religious branding is not a product of nature. We have to learn what flavor of religion tastes good. As Brown points out in his opinion piece, we also have to learn to be the nationality that everything from our passports to our job applications requires of us. I can’t decide to be Scottish or Canadian. I’ve tried both, and here I am, an American mutt, just as I was assigned at birth.

What should  I believe?

What should I believe?

Like nationality, religion is frequently a matter of where you are born. Take a look at a world map of religions and see. India is the most statistically likely country to be born Hindu. It can happen elsewhere, but it would be unlikely where no Indians live. Life sometimes offers the opportunity to change belief, generally through education or through proselytization, but it is fairly uncommon. Most people don’t think too deeply about their religion. You accept what your parents tell you about what’s poisonous and what’s not, and how to drive a car. Would they steer you wrong on religion? Not willfully, surely.

The tabula rasa myth has been one of the most difficult to eradicate. We’re born with all kinds of things going on inside already. Specific religious belief is not one of them, but the tendency to believe is. We believe because it is human nature to do so. We can learn not to believe, and we can even become wealthy by sharing that outlook vociferously. You can also get a good deal of money by being religious and selling alternatives to science. The Institute for Creation Research is well funded, from what I hear. The one place where there is no money, and where you’re not likely to be noticed, is in the middle. Some of us are born as middle children. We had no choice in the situation, and no matter what we decide to believe, we’re no less Episcopalian than we are atheist, or vice versa.