This weekend I was out with a couple of friends, both of whom have opinions that I respect and regard highly—regardless of whether or not I personally agree with them. So, we’re a couple of beers into a rather lively discussion that began (as I recall) with a question about skepticism and my personal attitudes about extraordinary claims.

There were several rather typical questions raised throughout the course of the discussion like, “what’s the harm?”, “how can we really know anything?”, “maybe someone has just figured out something no one else knows about”, a general desire to cast doubt on skeptical/scientific thinking without actually having any supporting evidence, and so on. Things that, as person that works to advance the cause of skepticism (in whatever small way that may be), I hear ALL the time. All of it nonsense of course and easily combated with a healthy dose of logical thinking, an ability to recognize logical fallacies, etc.

The whole conversation was really quite pleasant and fun to take part in. There were three of us involved and we had a good time exchanging ideas and the conversation was never combative. We just had/have VERY different view points. Mine, of course, being the correct one… (haha)

Then there was one argument used by one of the other members in this discussion that I NEVER want to hear again though. It’s the one that bothers more than any other. Even more than, “what’s the harm?”. That point is: “well, you can’t prove it didn’t happen.” Or some minor variation of that.

I have absolutely no use for that argument. None. And, to be fair, he was right. I couldn’t prove something didn’t happen at some undisclosed point in time at some undisclosed location. But it’s not incumbent upon me to disprove the existence of something of which there is no evidence. In all cases, it is up to the individual making the claim to prove their case. Not the other way around.

It’s a basic ad ignorantiam argument. Maybe there’s a little bit of a tu quoque argument in there as well.

Unless the skeptic is making a specific claim, the burden of proof is not at the feet of the skeptic. It’s at the feet of the believer/claimant. It’s the same principal that the idea of being innocent until proven guilty is founded upon. If I am on trial for murder, then it is up to my accuser to prove that I did it. It is not up to me to prove my innocence. In that specific case, let’s not confuse mounting a defense (i.e. countering their argument with your own evidence) as a transfer of the burden of proof. That is simply done to point out the error of the accuser’s claim, not create your own, separate claim.

As point of reference for these types of “you can’t prove it didn’t happen” arguments, Bertrand Russell masterfully dissected and destroyed them with his discussion of the Invisible Tea Pot.

So, please, please friends. Don’t give me this “well you can’t prove it didn’t happen” nonsense. I love ya, but c’mon.

Am I angry? Of course not. That would be silly. Especially if I were angry at friends over a beer fueled barroom debate. With me, the exchange of ideas is intellectually stimulating and often heated, but not hateful. But I do loathe that kind of absurd argument and never, ever want to hear it again. It’s just so…so, silly.

I hope that every one is well!

your pal,
zack

As 2009 comes to a close I am reminded of many things. Many things that I remember fondly. Somethings that I remember not so fondly. And some things that I don’t remember at all.

As many of you may know, I am a frequenter of the message board for the 11 O’Clock Comics podcast. Either today or yesterday, one of the hosts, the always terrific Chris Neseman, posted a thread about Comic Book Resolutions for 2010. The idea, obviously, being what sort of comic themed resolutions do you have for next year. I thought I would share mine here with a little additional explanation that I didn’t include with my forum post. I have five of them, so here goes:

1.) To improve as a writer and create more

This one is kind of a no-brainer. A failure to improve is just that–a failure. I have resolved to not to fail by my own standards.

2.) Do even more as a retail employee to promote quality creator owned work

This is something that I really want to work harder on. I’ve really busted tail over the past year to promote indie comics through the store (DCBS) and I want to make sure that I do it even better next year. There are so many wonderful and emerging talents out there that truly should have a chance to earn an audience and if there is something that I can do to help them earn that audience, I want to do it.

3.) Meet more of my heroes and let them know what their work means to me

I am very lucky in that many of the comic book creators whom I consider to be heroes are still living and producing work. I have been very fortunate to meet some of them, but I really want to hit up some more cons and speak with those that I have not yet been able to. The art and craft of making comics really is a HUGE part of my life and I really want to take the time to thank those whose hard work has provided me with so many hours of enjoyment.

4.) Be a better student of the medium

I loves me some comic history and I feel like I’m pretty well versed. But there’s ALWAYS more to learn. ‘Nuff said.

5.) Focus — right after my family (that includes friends) comics are my favorite thing in the world. I would do well to eliminate some of the distractions in my life and focus in on producing more and better comics, as well as working with customers, fans and friends to expand horizons and fanbases for deserving work

This one’s self explanatory, I think.

Anywho, those are my Comic Book resolutions for 2010. Now just to make sure that I fulfill all of them–shouldn’t be too hard.

I hope that you all have a great 2010!

your pal,
zack

The Rankin and Bass classic, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is my favorite Christmas special. Ever. There are lots of great ones, like the Opus special, the Claymation special, Pee-Wee Herman, the Tick–all great, but none as great as the Rudolph special.

It’s a fantastic story, Boss Elf is awesome beyond words, and the animation is wonderful and it has wonderful voice acting (who doesn’t love Burl Ives and Don Adams?). But what makes it the greatest Christmas special ever, you ask? The answer is simple: it has one the most unintentionally hilarious and horrifying moments in all of television history. And that’s not hyperbole (maybe a little hyperbolic).

Remember the Island of Misfit Toys? You know, Charlie in the Box, Train With Square Wheels, Cowboy Riding an Ostrich? Well among all of those side-splittingly sad anthropomorphic toys on the island is a bird who can only swim. That’s right. The poor little fella can’t fly. At all.

At the end of the show, Santa and Rudolph swoop in and pick up all of the sad toys (including the bird) so that they can be given as gifts to little girls and boys who will love them. What a wonderful ending for them. They’ll all receive the love the richly deserve and, apparently, need. Well, almost all of them.

See, things don’t turn out that well for the Bird Who Can Only Swim.

While the end credits roll we see Santa’s sleigh cruising through the crisp winter breeze and in the back of his sleigh one of his elves is dropping toys out of the back. Presumably, they each land safely beneath the Christmas tree of a deserving child. Also, since they are so high in the air, the elf kindly gives each of the toys an umbrella to help them float safely to the ground. All of the toys receive an umbrella. All of them except for the Bird Who Can Only Swim. Let me be clear: Bird. Can’t. Fly.

When it’s the Bird’s turn to be delivered to a happy child, the elf looks at the Bird, looks at the umbrella, tosses the umbrella to the side and then tosses the Bird out the back of the sleigh. Ooops.

One of Santa’s little helpers has just unwittingly murdered a toy. A toy that, we are lead to believe, is a conscious being, has feelings, can probably experience physical pain, and must have felt an extreme amount of terror as he plummets to an early grave. Not only is the poor Bird now a bloody smear on some poor kid’s front stoop, but now little Jimmy has been forever traumatized and will likely fear Santa and his elves for decades to come. Christmas is now ruined for him and his family. Way to go elf.

Am I being a little over the top in my re-telling of the story? Sure I am, but this is the internet. Flowery and humorous language is a must. But before you judge me too harshly, I implore you to watch this horribly hilarious accidental murder unfold. You’ll never look at Rankin and Bass the same.

your pal,
zack

So while I was gallivanting about the internet today, I happened to read P.Z. Meyers’ blog where he had linked to a blog that had recipes for science-themed cookies. I checked out the science cookies and they actually look delicious. They also look like the type of thing that I would obsess over for hours and ultimately be visually unsatisfied with.

Besides, what better way is there to celebrate Christmas/Newtonmas/Festivus than with heaping helping of SCIENCE?

Science cookie recipes at Not So Humble Pie

Father rapers. Father rapers sitting right next to me on the Group W bench as I drew this comic.

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. Not my most favorite, but it’s definitely up there. For Thanksgiving I have few sincere traditions. One is watching footbal (duh). The second is listening to Arlo Guthrie’s Alice’s Restaurant. My dad introduced me to it when I was a little kid and it just sort of stuck. Now I’ll listen to it with my kids, and so on.

There aren’t many Thanksgiving songs…fewer when you subtract songs with the words “gobble, gobble, goo; gobble, gobble, giggle.” in them. Alice is just a great, fun, song. This is also the song that taught me about the dangers of littering and how littering can lead to a situation where you have to associate with father rapers. It’s a dangerous situation. Don’t litter kids.