My Experience With Violent Video Games

   I've been thinking about writing on violent video games for a while. Years, really. I probably haven't written anything because there's a bit of shame involved, but I also don't think that anecdotal experiences are very worthwhile in discussions of such enormous gravity. Still, I want to share a couple of stories from yesteryear that might inform a few opinions on the issue.
   I'm not a "gamer" in the sense that I don't spend all my time playing video games, I don't get all of the new video games, and I don't play all the major games out there. I can list off my favorite games, but the words Metroid, Smash Bros, Red Dead and Resident Evil don't mean a lot to people that aren't "gamers," even though you recognize games called Zelda and Mario, which I also adore. So let me make this a bit more accessible for those of you that don't own a console (if you don't need a primer on the basics of games, skip the next four paragraphs).

   There are, in my opinion, four main brands of violent video games: War games, zombie shooters, sci-fi shooters, and GTA. (I'm not including fighters like Street Fighter or Soul Caliber because I don't think they apply here).

   War games, the most famous being Call of Duty, involve playing through a battle scenario. They put out a new Call of Duty game pretty much every year. These games originally took place during WWII, but now have a modern-day feel fighting terrorists or Russians or whoever. They are huge sellers and everyone plays them, and lots of virtual people get killed.
   Zombie shooters have a me-against-the-world mentality, and the main game in this genre is Resident Evil. They put out a big, new RE game about once every other year, though there are lots of smaller games all over the place.
   Sci-fi shooters are like the Call of Duty games, only they involve killing aliens and people instead of just people, and don't use realistic weapons. This is the Halo genre.
   Finally, there's Grand Theft Auto. The general genre here is called "sandbox" because its an open world you explore and play in. GTA games take about 4 years to make because they are so vast and expansive. These games center on a character that the player becomes. He runs errands and completes missions, but much of the game involves stealing cars, running over strangers on the street, and killing whomever you want. The phrase "pistol whipped a prostitute to death" could be used at any time to describe a recent event, if the player so chooses.

   There's lots to explore and discuss, but I want to tell a couple of stories about violent video games and me.

   Story 1: I've never played Grand Theft Auto. I've played the wild-west version, made by the same company, called Red Dead Redemption. In high school, a friend of mine was playing GTA every free moment he had (it's a very immersive, addictive game. Lots of people play it in long streaks). He's a nice, normal guy and was a nice, normal kid. We were walking to lunch on the sidewalk one day and he looked at me and said "Wow, I've been playing so much Grand Theft Auto that I just had the urge to run to that car, pull the driver out of it, beat him up and drive off." (That happens innumerable times in the game).

   Story 2: Resident Evil 4 is one of my favorite games ever. I don't play violent games much (never played GTA, never played Call of Duty, played very little Halo). In RE4 you progress through a world killing zombies by the skin of your teeth. It is absurdly fun and immersive, to the point that one night, after having played it for hours, I came across this terrifying zombie. It was probably 1:30 in the morning. I couldn't kill it so I ran from it. I turned a corner and there was another one that started to eat my neck. I got so scared I turned off the console at that exact moment and put in a Mario game. I played it for an hour just to try and calm myself down.
   That's not the story. That just tells you how awesome this game is. I've grown up around guns and am very comfortable around them. I don't live in the country, so only ever shot them a few times a year when camping or hunting or something, but I know how to handle them and how to be safe. In college I went shooting with my dad, sister and brother. I'd been playing Resident Evil for a few weeks. As soon as I had a little .22 rifle in my hand and I saw my brother a few yards away, I had this sudden urge. My brain screamed "shoot him!"
   Seriously.
   It only happened for a split second. It's not like it affected my actions at all, or was even close to happening. I felt sick about it, in fact. I wanted to throw up just for thinking it. Only recently have I thought about that moment and not felt sick to my stomach.

   Two stories about how playing some of these games can potentially effect your brain wiring. If you were to talk to a gamer about things like this, and if they were honest with you, I bet they'd tell you that little moments and thoughts like this happen. Obviously, being two well-adjusted, grounded-in-reality, having-good-parents kids like my friend and I, it's not a big deal. But put games like RE4, Call of Duty, and Grand Theft Auto in the hands of someone unstable, isolated and angry, and, I dunno, maybe that's not a good thing?


   I write this because I hear a lot of external talk about this issue. People who haven't played or don't understand video games have conversations about them. It occurred to me that video games are so stinking new, that it's not like the whole of society can relate to them in the same way. Playing a video game is different from watching a movie or television show. As my brother can attest, when I was young and Power Rangers came out, I would get more aggressive and violent after watching it. I wanted to do karate and kick things and he was my little putty (if you get that reference, well, you probably won't admit it). I never hurt him or actually kicked him, I just liked pretending I could do those things.
   In video games, there's less pretending. In the very realistic, immersive games, you start to think like and identify with the character you become. In a game like Grand Theft Auto, the first time you beat someone up and steal a car, you feel kind of gross. Then you remind yourself "they aren't real people," and you realize this game lets you do things you wouldn't do in real life, not just things that you couldn't do like fly a spaceship or break bricks with your head. That's a dangerous combination: things you wouldn't do in the real world, done in a world that feels real.
   I'm not an expert, so don't bother citing me anywhere, but I think it's worth knowing that these things can happen. My kid won't be playing anything violent at my house for a long, long time, that's for sure.

The Chronicles of Rehab: Better Than Others

     I DISLOCATED MY SHOULDER WHILE SKIING THREE YEARS AGO. I NEVER HAD SURGERY ON THE SHOULDER BECAUSE I WAS CHEAP AND I COULD LIVE WITH IT. IT WASN'T IMPACTING MY DAY TO DAY LIFE. THIS PAST AUGUST I TORE MY ACL. IT IMMEDIATELY IMPACTED MY DAY TO DAY LIFE. I DECIDED TO OPERATE ON BOTH, IN THE SAME INSURANCE YEAR, SO THAT I COULD "BUY ONE GET ONE FREE" FOR SURGERIES AND REHAB. THESE EXPERIENCES WILL LIKELY DOMINATE THIS BLOG FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.

(another side note: I really thought, upon creation, that this blog would be more funny than serious or philosophical, but all of my funny keeps getting absorbed by my other blog. Oh well.)

     My students at LCC this term have been treated to an instructor who has had two surgeries in two months. On the first day of class, I limped in on a knee immobilizer (but at least was off crutches), and last week I walked in with a hefty, all-business sling. One of my students made this blunt, astute comment regarding my surgeries: "That's a real shot to your manhood."

     It really has been.

     All told, I am going to lose about a year (and two summers) to these injuries. They keep me from being able to work around the house, exercise, and now I can't play with my baby like I used to. It's been humbling and frustrating, and for the first time in my life I think I've had little bouts of depression.

     (After my shoulder surgery, my main thought has been "I am so glad I did this," just because I can't wait to have a stable, trustworthy shoulder again. So don't put me on a suicide watch list or anything.)

     A lot of people have offered me consolation along the lines of "well, it could be worse" and "there are plenty of people worse off than you." I find myself thinking through the logic of those sentiments. It's odd - maybe "terrible" is a better word - that comfort can be found in comparing one's self to those less fortunate. It's just the human condition I assume. But those statements imply that there are a select few individuals that can't be consoled. No one has it worse. It couldn't be worse. Is that possible?

Job not Gob

     This is where the term "of Biblical proportions" has great meaning to me. The Bible is filled with stories of extremes. King Solomon had access to all earthly comforts and desires and wasn't satisfied, Jesus lived a perfect life and died for sin, Paul was the top Christian-killer before his conversion, I can't think of anyone with a better claim to revenge than young David against King Saul, and Job lost everything - land, livestock, family, health - yet still praised God. These extremes make our mundane lives comfortable and easy by comparison, which I think is among God's goals with scripture.

     Even without the story of Job, my plight is not terribly severe. I have a loving wife, healthy baby, warm house, good job with good insurance, a friend from church who's a skilled surgeon, and supportive friends and family surrounding me. But Job sure helps me find perspective.

     "It could be worse" bothers me less than "there are plenty of people worse off than you." I liken it to the following scenario: when I chat with someone that has a casual belief in God and Heaven, they invariably state that they think they'll go to heaven because they are a good person. When I ask what they mean by "a good person," their response is typically not about the good things they do, but the bad things they don't do. "I just know there are people a lot worse than me. I don't kill or steal or do things like that."

     If one stops and thinks about it, this is a crappy, dickish way to determine who gets into heaven. It'd only be half of all the people, right? The good half? That sucks. It means, by default, billions of people have no shot at heaven. What's worse, you are taking somebody's spot!! If you were a good person, should you give that spot to someone else?

     This doesn't seem fair. Shouldn't heaven be fair? Maybe it's not the top 50% who get in, but the top 70%. Or 90%. Whatever percentage we land on, we are going to have the same quota problem, where a certain number of people have to go to hell (or go to "not heaven," or even "not the best level of heaven" if you are that soft on Hitler and his ilk). That's no good. Curving a class only helps people above the curve, it actually dooms those beneath it. That's only fair if those people deserve to fail already. So we really can't base our heaven-going status on relative goodness.

     So a universal standard of goodness must be applied. I think we can all agree on major things, like don't murder or steal or abuse your kids. But as we get down to the nitty-gritty of that line of thinking, it becomes a huge disaster. What about the hungry who have to steal to eat? What about killing out of self defense? What about people born with a genetic disposition towards anger, or alcoholism? What if someone's dad beat them, making them much more likely to beat their kids? It turns out that things beyond our control - our parents, environment, fortune, location, era, health, etc. - probably have a greater impact on our "goodness" than we do. This also does not seem fair - that those privileged in this life are more likely to be privileged in the next.

The 99% aren't good. Neither is that 1%.

      One could claim that God would know who was and wasn't a good enough person. He can obviously account for all of those factors that I just mentioned and make a fair judgement. But there's still a logical flaw in this logic. One only has to be good enough. One could balance their good with choice bad, to their advantage. Maybe doing intentional, calculated bad means that one is truly a bad person, but then I think that would make all of us bad people (for what it's worth, I think we are). I can't see a getting-into-heaven-system that doesn't accommodate anything but constantly pursuing good.

     I moved quickly from "my shoulder hurts" to "there are no good people." That's just how my brain works. I test an idea by taking it to its logical extremes, both enormous and minute. I think God is a God of logic. In fact, I think "logical" might be the best way to describe him, above all other terms. I'd like to take this moment to clarify that "logical" does not mean "simple" or "scientific." I think a lot of people confuse those.

     I appreciate condolences about my surgeries and injuries. I know people are well-intending, even when they call me old and broken. Apart from this short span I am super healthy and relatively injury-free. I am extremely blessed, and not just because my life is better than most. I believe that all people have the potential to be blessed, because it's not only offered to the good. Because there are no good. It's offered to all who are willing to take it, and it's called Jesus Christ.

Change and Batman

     I am currently playing Batman: Arkham City. It is probably the greatest video game since Tetris. Between playing a Batman video game, avoiding previews for the new Batman movie and planning to head to Barnes and Noble to catch up on my Batman reading, I've got a lot of dark brooding on the brain.

     When I subbed last week, a student asked me who my favorite superhero is. When I replied with "Batman," he rolled his eyes and informed me that I had made a boring choice. I told him what I tell everyone who will listen:

     Batman is the only character that can change.

     Change is death in a serial story. Think about all of the sitcoms you have watched. When things start to really, fundamentally change, the show goes downhill. Chandler and Monica get married, House gets fired, Monk solves Trudy's murder. All shows that aren't meant to tell a finite story, but instead intend to last for as long as they possibly can, have to avoid change for as long as possible. If you want to have a sitcom that can last for 12 years, you need to have stable characters that new fans can jump in to and immediately understand what's going on. In my mind, The Big Bang Theory is the perfect example of this today. If you turned on a new episode, you'd get there are 4 nerds, one who is smarter than the rest, one who is Indian and shy, one who is Jewish and horny, and one who is trying to be sort of normal. There is a cute girl across the hall. Hi-jinks ensue.

     The Simpsons is the prime example. Lisa is the smartest person in Springfield and has been in grade school for over 20 years now. No matter how an episode ends, you know the next one is going to start with everything back to normal. The show can last as long as it has because nothing ever really changes.
     This is especially true for comic books. Spider-Man and Superman can't evolve and grow as characters. Why? Because they are supposed to appeal to kids, really. Kids aren't concerned with character growth or development, but with cool fight scenes and funny jokes. More importantly, if the characters change and grow, new fans can't adopt as easily. Comics are in a state of trying to balance their adult fans with finding new, young fans for their future. They do this by "rebooting" their comic lines every decade or so.
     So Superman is always going to fight Lex Luthor. Spider-Man will always have trouble balancing work, school and hero-ing. Things external to them can change - sometimes Lois and Clark are together or aren't and sometimes Spider-man can't make any webbing - but the characters themselves change little.

     This is not the case with Batman, and the world he inhabits. He's always mad and dark and essentially ageless. But, he changes. There have been periods where he is intensely paranoid, not trusting anyone not named Alfred. Sometimes he works to rehabilitate Two Face, while other times the beats he crap out of him. The Riddler turns from a villain to a Private Investigator, because he loves the puzzles. Gotham had a devastating, crippling earthquake. Currently, there are actually two Batman's (Batmen?) if I understand correctly. Bruce Wayne is Batmanning all over the world while the first Robin is Batmanning in Gotham. Change happens.

That Batman up there? That's the original Robin.
That Robin? Bruce Wayne's son. That's  what I call change.

     Part of why I am so fond of the Dark Knight is because of the complex nature of Bruce Wayne. But the main reason I can keep reading Batman is because there's a progression. He will become more and more obsessed with stopping crime, then something happens and he becomes more focused on using his resources as a billionaire to aid Gotham, and then he works to train those around him (like Robins and such) to be more effective.
     There are things that can't change. Bruce Wayne can't really age, because that means that an end is in sight. He can't reveal his identity, because then everything's fundamentally different. He can't really die. But, beyond the major, the sub-major is in flux.
     I haven't really read a new Batman comic in a couple of years. Borders bookstores closed (maybe I should have bought some of those comics?), a baby came, etc. Next chance I get I want to catch up. That's the point, though, I have stuff to learn. I can tell you right now that Spider-Man is struggling to balance his life and Superman is fighting some enormous ideal, because that's what they've been doing for my entire life. No change. The change is what makes Batman unique and worthwhile.

"The Universe" in Film and Television

Wow! The cold, mathematically governed universe has a plan for us!

     There's this trend in entertainment media to talk about "The Universe." "The Universe" will find you a soul mate, or the Universe will provide you with a job or the Universe will magically unite you with your estranged siblings or the Universe is generally looking out for you. The Universe seems to have a plan and you are a big part of it. The Universe has a capital first letter.
     I find this very disingenuous. Or maybe it's naive. I understand that television shows and movies don't want to talk about God. Atheists and agnostics are a growing population, and professing a belief in God is becoming increasingly dangerous in today's cultural climate. But ascribing some intention, or motive, or even understanding to the big ol' universe (or nature, as it were) is undeniably absurd. Either the universe is full of planets and stars and not any sort of all-encompassing consciousness, or there is a God of some sort who knows enough, cares enough, and is powerful to unite the sympathetic lead character with her mom.
     I've tried to figure out why this is the case. (Let's be clear: when I say "I tried to figure out" that doesn't mean I did any sort of research. I am a blogger for crying out loud. It means "I couldn't sleep one night and thought about it.)" Originally, my assumption was that the people involved in making shows and movies aren't personally religious. Statistically that is unlikely, but it wouldn't surprise me that there is a push to pull God out of entertainment. God has become a loaded idea, with a lot of hatred and judgement and violence attached to it. Avoiding everything that could come with a "war on terror" that is really a "war on militant Islamists" makes sense, from an economic and political standpoint. Additionally, when was the last time you saw a consistent, strong God-fearing character that wasn't a caricature or jihadist trying to thwart Jack Bauer? Tyler Perry tries to make them I guess, but none of the "media elite" take him or his work seriously. This dearth of characters that reflect a significant portion of the viewing population strikes me as forced.


     But I think there's more to it. Invoking a God invokes not only judgement and hate (which, by the way, isn't really how it has to be), but it invokes morality and values that the media doesn't like to portray. It's hard to have your lead character trying to find a soul mate and wanting some direction (or some hope that there's a plan), but simultaneously showing him trying to get laid, drunk, and/or high every episode. You might not attach any morality to these actions, but the "God" that most people believe in does. It's pretty self-defeating to ask God to bring you your soul mate so the two of you can have sex and see if there's anything there, when God intended for sex to be between a man and a wife.
     So how can these characters still have faith in a plan, or the idea of a "soul mate" (which requires having a soul, which requires God - we can discuss that if you'd like), or some sense of destiny, when the cold hard universe alone provides none of these provisions? We give the universe a capital letter and hope no one cares. Or notices.

An example of a typical Christian character.

     It's probably Christian's fault that God is being pulled from entertainment. Christians are increasingly known for wanting to punch gay children and attacking abortionists, but I don't think that picture is accurate. Maybe I just hope it isn't. When I think of Christian characters on television or in movies, they are hypocritical, shallow, judgmental, or naive. They are usually the source of humor or conflict, not the source of conflict resolution.

50/50. Worth watching.

     You know where this idea first struck me? Of course you don't so I will tell you. Cara and I were watching the movie 50/50, a Judd Apatow flick about a guy that has cancer. (Tangent: I find Apatow's work to be incredibly honest and realistic, which - more than his humor - is in my opinion why he's so popular. The only Christian character of his that I can recall is Lindsay Weir's former-best-friend on Freaks and Geeks - Millie - who was a sweet and well-intentioning girl, but was very naive and eventually needed to experience her own rebellion like Lindsay did. I can't think of a single other God-fearing character.) There's a really heartbreaking scene in 50/50 where Adam (who has cancer) is dropped off at the hospital by his friend Kyle, to have an important surgery. The car is parked, Adam is about to get out, and Kyle says something utterly forgettable. I have in fact forgotten it. It was something like "see you after" or "well, here you go" or something. It struck me as sad and depressing that these friends had nothing more to offer each other (and of course Kyle would have liked to be more encouraging or supportive, but what can he do? He doesn't believe in God, so invoking any sort of plan or destiny - even from "The Universe" would have been just as hollow as saying "let's split the parking costs").
     It's a moment that any God-fearing individual can optimistically, encouragingly say "I will pray for you." And anyone going into surgery can appreciate that sentiment of prayer, even if they don't think it will make a practical difference.
     (Is that what it's like for people that don't believe in God? They have nothing, not even a weird idea like prayer, to offer someone when they are about to undergo an event that no one has any control over? That honestly sounds awful.)
     The movie has this depressing, stark reality that Adam has no hope. He's a classically Apatowian post-adolescent male with no apparent drive or ambition or conviction about life. He lives alone and dates a pretty awful girl. His friend uses his cancer to get them laid and get them weed. He's not in contact with his parents, for what he thinks are noble reasons (trying to avoid spoilers here because the movie is worth seeing), and even his psychologist is over-matched with him as a case. There is absolutely no hope, and there is absolutely no mention of The Universe or God or destiny or anything. Of course a character and setting like this can't exist on a sitcom or any sort of comedy - there's just no way an audience can keep watching the depressing world unfold.
     So, if Apatow's honest and consistent portrayal of a world full of death, sickness, loss, heartache and not God is accurate, but a show doesn't want to invoke God, they call forth on The Universe. Let the universe provide hope and a plan, while not judging the sex and the drugs.
     You get the point. I need to get ready for work. Let's sum things up by saying that I find this trend of calling upon "The Universe" to be fundamentally inconsistent, and that bothers me.

Time-Sensitive Prayers

Obligatory poster for a discussion on time travel... check.

     A while back some Chinese dudes informed us that it is not possible to travel back in time; the math doesn't add up. According to them, it might be possible to go forwards in time, but definitely not backwards (the article I link seems to think differently). I have known this for a long time, though, by this simple logic: If it was possible to travel back in time, then someone would have traveled back in time already. We'd know. He'd show up and say "Hey guys! It's possible! I did it! I traveled as far back in time as I felt safe, just so I could tell you that, hey! It's possible! It turns out all you have to do is have two video cameras recording each other as they record each other, and maybe a solar flare or something! Don't let McDonald's do that pink sludge thing they did-or-will-do for a while!!"
     I understand that logic isn't foolproof, but I think it's pretty close. I do have this one nagging question, though:

     Can prayer travel back in time?

     Do you ever tell someone you'll pray for them, and then forget about it? I have done this several times. One time I had a friend going in for surgery. I told him I'd pray for him during the surgery. I did not. I was probably doing something important like saving Princess Peach or not grading papers at the time. When I remembered that my friend was having surgery, it was like 4 hours after his surgery. I panicked. What do I do?
     Well, I prayed for him. "Dear God I hope his surgery went well."
     Then I thought about that prayer. "Dear God I hope his surgery went well." Besides the fact that it was pretty thin and almost selfish, it had one big problem: It was past tense. I was praying for something that already happened, hoping it happened in a certain way. Was that remotely valid? Did it accomplish anything? Was God laughing at me?
     I guess when I see someone who just came back from vacation, I say "I hope the weather was nice" or "I hope you had a good time." Those are sincere feelings and expressions. But at the same time, I am not trying to impact or change anything about their trip, I'm just expressing that I am pulling for them. Whereas, when I pray for someone's surgery, or job interview, or, I dunno, root canal, to go well, I believe at some level that prayer can actually make a difference in the events that unfold. That is fundamentally different from hoping that the sun was out yesterday.

     So I continued to think about that specific prayer, and prayer in general. Prayer is weird and I don't really get it. If I ask for something, often, and for the right reasons, in the right way, I might get what I ask for? If praying about something causes that thing to happen - and let's pretend that if I hadn't prayed for that thing than it wouldn't have happened - does that mean that prayer can change God's mind? Can God change his mind? Are there things of less consequence that God can decide on at the moment, while others are pretty set in stone?

     (In my opinion, for those last three questions: yes, yes and yes)

     So, say that Joe had a successful surgery. It was successful because so many wonderful, handsome people like myself were praying for him. Except I prayed for him after the fact. But God knew that I would pray for him, so Joe met his prayer quota. So God had the surgery go well at the last second. Whew! Good thing I still prayed even though I thought it was too late, huh!
     No, not a good thing. If I were to pray, today, that 9-11 never happened, it would still have happened. Or if I were to pray that I had never dislocated my shoulder, to grab a much smaller and more reasonable example, it still would have happened. In effect (while dealing with this "Joe" hypothetical), me praying for Joe's surgery didn't change the outcome of his surgery, the outcome of Joe's surgery dictated that I would pray for his surgery!! Don't you see! If God were to make a decision, based on a prayer that I had yet to make, He was really forcing me down a path that I would pray my prayers! What!? No free will!? I don't like that.
     Now, maybe I would have prayed anyways, and sure He could have known that, and thus counted the prayers for that surgery throughout time, but then shouldn't we just devote ourselves to praying for all things past, present, future, but especially in the past?
     What happens if I pray "God I pray I don't pray this prayer." ??

     Conclusion: My prayers cannot go back in time.

     That is okay, because I think the essence of prayer is the heart, and God knows my heart was with Joe, at some pathetically incompetent and selfish level. So even though I didn't pray for his surgery, God might have counted it anyways. Or He might not have cared.

     For what it's worth, I don't think God is looking for a prayer quota, or the right words or conditions for Him to agree to things we ask for. I think it's primarily a method for getting us to talk with Him. I think He just likes having us invite Him in our life. Like when my parents allowed me to be dead broke and starving hungry throughout college; they knew it would bring me home to ask for food and eat dinner, and they were still at point that they liked having me around. (They didn't think I was aware of this sordid little plot but I was.)

     So we cannot go back in time, and our prayers probably can't either. This is undoubtedly a good thing.

    Also, for what it's worth (FWIW as the kids say): I now, whenever I tell someone I will pray for them, pray for them right then. Like, as we are talking I think "Dear God I pray for that thing I just said I'd pray for."
    On a related note, I am not as good of a prarer as I used to be. (Isn't it weird how sometimes we say "pray-yer" and sometimes we say "prare?") So, I guess it's not surprising that I have to resort to praying for someone immediately, and in such a wanting fashion as "I pray for what I just said," but I'll get it back.

Generosity in Excess

    Just like you and everybody else, I did not win MegaMillions. I did not inherit a 640 million dollar prize (might as well be called AlmostBillions), and I am not going to be able to purchase Hawaii.
     My wife's dad bought everyone scratch-its for Christmas. My wife was the big winner in the family, bringing home a cool 5 dollars. We hadn't cashed that money in, so we did the day before the big MegaMillions drawing, and used those 5 dollars on 5 lottery tickets. I actually had one number right! I have never bought a lottery ticket before, and plan to very rarely.

Our big $5 winnings. Giving people a lottery card for Christmas is like giving the gift of disappointment.

     Of course, like you, I spent a lot of time dreaming and planning about what I would do with that kind of money. After I had paid of everyone's debts and built the house I wanted and done all of that typical stuff, I'd still have like, what, 450 million dollars? (I can't remember what the cash payout was). What on earth can you do with that kind of money? You have to just give it away before it ruins you, right? How do you give it away? Do I team up with Uncle Phil and renovate the other side of Autzen? Or donate to the schools in the area? There are lots of places and causes I would want to give money, but I'd still not know what to do with that kind of change.

     That got me thinking about generosity. Can someone be generous when they are giving out of excess? Like, when Cara doesn't want to finish her dinner and gives it to me, is that generous of her? Sort of, it is very kind that she thinks of me, but, it's not like she was sacrificing anything. If I gave away 300 million dollars, which is an absurd amount of money for us mortals, I would seem very generous, but really I just didn't know what else to do with it.
     Maybe I am not understanding the term "generous" completely, and am confusing it with "sacrifice," but I realized that if I had won that lottery, it would really be impossible for me to be financially generous anymore. I could no longer give of my money in a way that truly impacts my own life. I could still be generous with my time and, I dunno, my good looks or something, but I feel like I would have to work to try and find ways to stay truly generous, whereas right now if I give away money, it's always money that could have bought me a video game or a cheeseburger.
     I guess generosity is about the heart, and the motives behind giving. Giving to help people is still going to help them, and if you give away money when you could have used on yourself in some way, that is still generous.

     I'll close with this: it bothers me that "generous" and "generosity" don't both have u's in them.

Selfish Music Appreciation

     Sometimes I have this thought about music that I can't defend and I think sounds crazy. I'd actually like your opinion/take on it. I am sure it will come across as preachy, but that's mostly because it is preachy.

If you ever wonder how I get such great pictures, I google things like
"rock and roll" and pretty much take the first thing that pops up.

     When we consume and enjoy music, are we encouraging an individual's destruction? Specifically, the destruction of the individuals creating the music?

     Popular music today is so firmly entrenched in heartache, drugs, sex and debauchery. I am convinced that the music today is worse than it was when I was a kid, because I can still listen to the music from the early 90's when I started riding the bus and getting my first listen to popular music. There is much less overt, glorified talk about sex and drugs in the musical "stylings" of my childhood than there is today. Listening to the radio makes me feel ill if I stop and listen to what they are saying.

     But it's no secret that drugs, heartache and sex are what make good music in a world post-Elvis. Sometimes I find myself wishing that my favorite artists would get their heart broken or would relapse so they'd put out a good album again. It's an entirely selfish thought on my part. It's also what I have been more-or-less conditioned to think.

     Here's an example: The Smashing Pumpkins were creating their first album in like a decade a few years ago. (If you don't know, they are essentially the third best grunge band of the 90's, meaning they get mentioned in every "best band ever" list, but never before Nirvana or Pearl Jam.) I didn't really experience grunge, being born in 1985 (meaning I can't appreciate music until I am like twelve, which was 97, which was boy bands and Britney), but I have come to appreciate the hits of the above mentioned bands.
     When the pumpkins were creating that first album in like a decade, there was a lot of chatter that it could never be as good as their original works. That's not new or surprising. What I found interesting is that the band came out, mid-production, with a statement that those doubts were pissing them off. It went something like this:
     "To hear people say that we can never produce music, or be as creative, as we once were when we were fried out of our minds on drugs is insulting and demeaning." It was both well articulated and profound, in my opinion. I don't know if their subsequent albums were any good (but I also don't really know for myself if their first ones were), but that quote stayed with me. People who loved this band were essentially rooting for more disaster in their lives, so they could suck some pleasure out of it.

     Do I do that? I must. Probably not actively, (at least not often, but I have at least once lamented that I wish Stephan Jenkins of Third Eye Blind would start doing Crystal Meth and screwing Charlize Theron again), but does that matter?

I like their music but don't really care about their well being, I suppose.

     This is the age-old issue with rock and roll. It comes from a place of hate, loss, pain and anger. Those emotions and experiences fuel truly gripping and fantastic music that speaks to generations, but either leads to binges of sex, drugs and alcohol, or the fame and success takes away the situations of hate, loss, pain and anger. Either way, us fans are left thinking either a) it's too bad that Rocker X is killing himself with drugs, but he keeps spitting out fantastic music, or b) it's too bad that Rocker X got wealthy and comfortable, I would have liked to have a few more good albums out of him.

     Of course there are exceptions to this. James Taylor has effectively kicked his cocaine addictions, at least as far as I can tell, and still makes great music. But he was never singing true rock-and-roll, where he fights the man and sings from a place of anger. Maybe this issue only applies to music that is fueled by personal disaster. Bands that sing for causes or in defense of something might last longer (like Incubus, which has consistently turned out quality music for a while now), or that just sing about life and experiences (like, I don't know, Taylor Swift? Maybe all country music?), or bands that just make no sense half the time like The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

     But the top music makers of today are people like Adele, Katy Perry, Kanye West and Lady Gaga. I am sure I am missing some big ones (sure, throw in Jay-Z, and I guess the Biebs and Taylor Swift). Those names fall under two groups: certifiably crazy and talented (Kanye and Gaga), and tons of heartache and/or debauchery (Adele, Perry, Gaga, Kanye). Adele and Kanye are two of the only new musicians I have really enjoyed in the last, I don't know, five years?

     Here's where I really start to talk about stuff that I don't understand. Reality Music Shows and interviews with musicians have taught me that true music comes from within. It comes from either the pain and suffering of loss or the joy of love. Isn't the first of those two options, well, awful? It's one thing if writing and performing music based on loss and pain is therapeutic, but at what point does it become exploitative? At what point am I contributing to someone's poor choices and harmful dependencies, when I buy and appreciate their heartache and then don't enjoy the following, less compelling music.

     So, what about gospel music? Isn't that the only music that can come from a true, sustained well of joy? Why do I hate it?

Seriously the best Christian music not called "Jars of Clay." But seriously go listen to  this song.

     In all fairness, I don't listen to it. Hardly ever. But I have tried it. I grew up with it, and have gone back to test it a few times, and am continually amazed at how bland, boring, and unoriginal it can be. It's as if someone heard a real rock band and said "let's Christianize that," which apparently means "let's copy the sound and hope for the best."
     Christian music can't really have the edge of rock music, because of the lack of sexdrugsalcoholdebaucheryetc. Can playing music that comes from a place of peace, joy and forgiveness be, I don't know, good?
     This leads me to wonder if rock music is fundamentally flawed, from a Christian perspective. Is it in fact the devil's music, like Nat King Cole's dad yelled at him that one time in that one movie I saw on OPB or something when I was young? If that's the case, then, wow, we're screwed up. If it's not the case, then, okay, maybe Christians can make some good stuff?

    (Also, don't come to me with a million links and a hundred band names saying "have you heard my band Tattooed Crusaders" or send me a youtube of you singing "better is one day," because I would rather listen to Outkast.)

The Worthless Generation

     I have come across several comments or statements about my generation (sometimes called "generation y," which probably has some really "meta" meanings. Like the generation after "x," or the generation that asks "y do I have to work?"), and what a waste it will result in. Most of the examples that cross my mind are pretty anecdotal, but I think the best one comes from Louis CK when he was on Conan. Louis is a pretty hysterical, intelligent comedian with a mouth like a septic tank, but he's clean here, give it a quick watch:

     He has been making claims like this for a while now. Of course, he is totally right. My generation (I'm 26) and those younger than me are poised to be a bunch of lazy, entitled, whiny jerks who ruin everything that isn't already ruined.

     So I think that raises one question: who on earth raised these people?

Seeing God in Your Experiences

     I once heard that people see God in a way that fits with their own experience. Specifically, artists see God as the "great artist in the sky," and architects see Him as "the great builder in the sky." If your job doesn't lend itself to that (i.e., He's not the great data enterer in the sky), then whatever you find important, or find meaning in, is where you might see Him. The great gardener, or great parent, or great grand-parent (ha!). You get the idea.
     This notion has stuck with me since then, probably because I found it to be true for me. I of course see God as "The Great Mathematician in the Sky." The difference between my view of Him and yours is that I think mine is more accurate.
     There are three traits associated with God at His most fundamental levels. He is omnipotent (all powerful), omniscient (all knowing) and omnipresent (all everywhere). Guess what! Mathematics pretty much contains all of those all-everything qualities as well!
     It's hard for me to convince someone that math is all powerful, because in and of itself it has no real power, but mathematics is both what governs all of our physical world and the primary tool that allows us to learn and discover anything and everything about existence. Since it applies to most everything, I call that darn-near omnipotent.
     The rules and logic of mathematics are quite literally inescapable. Wherever you go, 1 + 1 = 2, and whatever time period you are in you can solve an equation for x. This makes mathematics omnipresent.
     All knowing is a bit of a stretch, but I think it is still sensible. In terms of the hard sciences, everything that we think we discover, or have agreed upon to be a scientific truth must first be verified through mathematics. If the math isn't there, than the theory isn't either. The issue with this, and with all the sciences in my opinion, is that we are always learning more and more. We don't know if what we know now is the whole story or just a part of it. So I submit that mathematics are all knowing, we just don't know all mathematics.

     Calculus is tough to sum up as one main idea. If I had to, I would say it is the study of calculating the infinite. Finding the sums and products of numbers as they get infinitely big or infinitely small. I'd like to explain this real briefly, but to insert equations and fractions I have to use a diferent program, so the text size and style will change slightly, which I know is jarring. Please bear with me.

     The idea being, I can't actually calculate two-to-the-infinity. In fact, I can't even calculate two-to-the-really-really-big number (even 2^100 is absurdly huge). But since I can look at the smaller numbers, I can use those smaller numbers and the trends that I see appearing to know that if I could add up every possible term from one to infinity, they would add up to 1. I think that's cool.
     I can't truly comprehend infinity. If I could, it wouldn't really be infinite, now would it. I don't think there is a better word to describe God than the word infinite. This means that I can't truly comprehend God. If I could, He wouldn't really be God, now would He.
     But! When I started to wrap my ahead around this calculus idea - that I could determine what happens as things get infinitely big or infinitely small, I suddenly started to realize that I could understand God in a similar fashion. I can't understand the infinite depth of His power, presence or knowledge, but what I see in little pieces can give me a clue as to the larger trends. This might not be a radical idea (in fact I think it's really the only option), but the fact that I was able to do it with math excited me.
     I began to really dive into my studies. In college I did three things: play super smash brothers, play ultimate, and study math. I felt like the more I learned about math the more I was learning about God. I still do, and I eat it up every chance I get.

     Well, enter some random guy who informs me that everyone sees God in a fashion that fits their experiences. The great whatever in the sky. It turns out what I was doing with mathematics, everyone can do with everything. I'd felt that by learning more about math I was learning more about God because I felt like mathematics had some special insight into God's character. It turns out that everything points to God. The more we learn about science and humanity and art and nature and batman, the more we are learning about God.
     (I still do feel that math has special insight into who God is - more so that most other disciplines - because I think if God is bound by anything it is logic. I was once asked at a Bible study if there was anything God couldn't do. My reply was "Of course there is. He can't do anything that isn't logically consistent. Meaning, He can't simultaneously do something and not do that same thing." I think logic (and by extension mathematics) is an integral part of His character. I know there are smarter people than me that have thought about this, and I think the idea relates to His nature and His administration, but I don't know.)
   
     So whatever you are doing, if you do it to your fullest, you are glorifying God. I find that relieving.

Helping People Move Like Jesus

     Have you ever heard of the notion that it is impossible to do a truly selfless act? The idea is, whatever you do to help someone else will inevitably help you somehow too. Maybe it makes you feel good, or someone owes you a favor, or you get a reward of some kind. For example. if we give food to the homeless on the street we ease our guilt about there being homeless people on the street.
     Apparently it was the French philosopher Jacques Derrida (read as JACKwah Da-ree-dah with your nose up in the air) who first proposed this heartwarming nugget of truth. He went on, if the internets are to be believed, to state the only way completely selfless acts are possible is to give your life to something (or for someone), and that Jesus himself performed that act.

     Well, I thought I'd found something that disproved his theory: helping people move. I hate helping people move. It's boring, it takes an eternity to complete, the job is never finished, it is frustrating trying to move couches through doorways, and nothing ever has a handle to grab. You move stuff from the house to the truck, then from the truck back to another house. You might get rewarded with pizza.
     I will help friends move, and do it with a smile on my face, because they are friends. Friends helped me move. I understand that's how it works. But one time I was called by my friend John to help a stranger move. Someone I'd never met before, who went to a different church and wasn't really in need of help (he was moving things to his summer home in SunRiver -- just hire some movers!).
     I hadn't seen John in a while, had nothing going on that day, and figured I should help. John said "It should just be a couple of hours," which of course means it will take three days. We picked up the UHaul, drove the 45 minutes to his house on the McKenzie river, and got started. Yes, it took us over an hour just to start moving. Start to finish it took us about 7 hours of work. He ended up paying us some fair amount.
     But there was a moment inbetween the starting and the realizing we were going to get paid where I turned to John and said "You know John, I hate helping people move. It's probably the chore in life I enjoy the least. I would rather go to the dentist. But I just realized that by helping this stranger move, who I don't know and won't get any reward for, I am doing quite possibly the most selfless act I could do. This is quite literally when I am most like Jesus."
     Which I promptly followed with "Isn't that pathetic?"

     Ha! I was in the process of performing an act that gave me no tangible reward, no emotional reward, and really no feeling of satisfaction, despite the fact that I did not enjoy the act itself at all. At that moment, I had proven that uppity jerk Jackwa wrong. I tell you this long, boring story to give you hope.
     Then I got paid. And bought a pizza. And realized that I had proven that uppity jerk wrong, and realizing that made me happy. Now, when I go to help someone move, I enjoy it a bit more because I can think about what a great person I am.
     For example, yesterday I helped a friend move from his apartment to his new house. He and his wife had just recieved their keys to their first home and I was happy to help (even volunteered!). Cody and his brother are strong dudes who run their own little moving company, so it went by lightning quick. There's nothing quite as emasculating as seeing two guys move a big couch around a few corners and doorways, and - while holding the couch - ask me to grab the cushions. (I did, however, move his 5, 10 and 15 pound weights all by myself. In three trips.) I enjoyed the move, because the whole time I could take satisfaction in doing something selfless. I was selfishly seeking selflessness, which really undermines the whole premise that I can help people move in a purely selfless way. Ugh, that bastard Jackwa has beaten me.
     (Also, sometimes helping people move can be fun, if they have to move embarrassing stuff. Cody had two hula hoops. Hula hoops!! He can claim they are his wife's but I don't believe him - his hips are too well defined. We also threw his kitchen table off the balcony. And he had like seven toaster-ovens that he moved as well. He did decide to give his brother his old Space Jam poster, however. All but one of the above things are true.)

Is it embarrassing that Bugs Bunny is listed before Michael Jordan?  Maybe. Is it embarrassing that my wife was like "you should put a picture of Space Jam on the blog" as she read and then said "one with Shaquille O'Neal on it." ?? Yes. That is embarrassing.

     I wonder: if I hadn't been aware of this truly-selfish-acts-are-impossible conundrum, if I ever performed one (shy of dying), would it count? The only thing that ruins my helping-people-move theory is knowing that it makes a good argument against that conundrum. I don't know. You don't care. Let's call it quits.

     But first: admit it. Based on the title, you thought this post was going to be about a Christian Dance Party I was throwing (which I have done), or maybe a dance-rehab-class, or a Maroon 5 Moves Like Jagger remix or something, didn't you. Sucker. 

Fantasy Sports = Dungeons and Dragons

     I am about to write at length about topics I have never actually experienced on my own. I have been invited to join several fantasy football and fantasy basketball teams and decline every time. I decline because I tend to to obsess over things, and I know that if I started doing fantasy sports I would never stop. That obsessiveness is the same reason I never picked up World of Warcraft, the computer game that ruins lives, wrecks marriages and has actually killed people from playing it too much. Once I started playing it, I would never stop. I also have never played Dungeons and Dragons, but that's only because no one ever invited me to...

World of Warcraft = Dungeons and Dragons = Fantasy Football

     There was a time - a short, brief period a long time ago - when video games were for nerds and geeks only. This was before my time. Video games used to be text based, and involve exploring dungeons, finding treasure and weapons and being a hero. You would read some information like You enter the dungeon and see a torch, a skull and some bats. There are doors to the north and west. Then you type something like "grab skull" or "eat bats" and the game progresses until you die (which happens often) or you get to the dragon. So, basically, it was a computerized version of Dungeons and Dragons, the ultimate geek game. These days the game World of Warcraft is almost exactly Dungeons and Dragons, just on the computer. It makes sense, then, that geeks and nerds and dorks enjoyed video games, and the big stupid mean jocks made fun of those that played them.
     Today, of course, every dude in the country loves video games. You can play sports or kill terrorists or hunt dinosaurs and do any and everything in-between. Video games are no longer for dorks. In fact, video games continue to be one of the fastest growing and most profitable industries in the country.

     Fantasy sports have also had astounding growth in popularity over the last decade or so. Fantasy football - where people pick players from different teams and combine their yards, points, tackles, receptions, first downs and hairstyles and add them up to see who won - continues to grow in popularity and profitability every year. Most people that play fantasy sports have several teams in several leagues and cost their employers billions in wasted work time.
     Guess what. Fantasy Football and Dungeons and Dragons are the same thing. I've already stated my case that Twilight = Girl Porn, let me try to convince you of this as well.
   
     Dungeons and Dragons gives people the opportunity to do what they probably do often anyways: pretend to be something they aren't. Pretend to be a hero, saving a hottie, and winning fame, renown and riches. It's also just plain fun. You don't have to be a stereo-typically lonely, sad teenager to want to be someone else. I think everyone has an idealized version of themselves with better jobs and more money and popular friends. D&D just turns that into a game.

Clay Matthews = Orc with a +2 Hairstyle of Anger

     Fantasy football allows guys to identify with the heroes of the gridiron in a way that is much more intimate than just rooting for them. When someone picks Adrian Peterson to be their running back, they are definitively stating a preference for that running back over all other running backs. When boys are young they often want to root for the best teams and the best players, because they feel they have some sort of claim or ownership to the victory. I was rooting for the Yankees and the Yankees won so I am superior as well. It's essentially a role-play, just like Dungeons and Dragons. For many people, that role-play continues into adulthood through sports - failed high school athletes trying to recall some glory years or missed opportunities.
     I don't think that all, or even most, people really think along those lines. I think most people find sports and feats of athleticism to be very entertaining, and whichever team is closest to you is probably on tv more so you probably follow them more closely. And I think most people do fantasy sports because they are fun and a good waste of time and a great way to keep in touch with friends (kind of like video games).

     The role-play aspect of D&D and FF aren't their only similarities. In fantasy football, participants try to field their best teams based on matchups. Say the Packers are playing the Tennessee Titans, who are known to give up a lot of sacks. A smart FF player would start Clay Matthews over some other linebacker in hopes he gets more sacks. And if you have two running backs, you'd start the one who is playing the worse run defense. In D&D (and role playing video games like World of Warcraft, which is essentially D&D in video game form), you have a bunch of swords to choose from, and you are going to pick the sword that does poison damage to fight the dragon that is weak against poison.
     Don't you see!? Defenses in football are like armor in D&D, and offenses in football are like weapons in D&D. Getting a stronger, sharper, more magical sword is like trading Matt Ryan for Tom Brady. You look forward into the NFL teams' schedules to see who they play and equip accordingly, just like you would if you are going to raid Medusa's Lair.
     Fantasy sports is Dungeons and Dragons which is World of Warcraft.

Ok, it's hard for me to reconcile this
image with the thesis of this post

     The internet and video games have changed all of this, but it's fundamentally the same. It used to be that fantasy sports and D&D was done on paper, slowly. Now fantasy sports is all online, and D&D has become WOW, like I stated earlier. People - smart people that used to play D&D - have realized that sports is really just a numbers game. Find people that have high probabilities of catching passes and gaining yards, get people with the best stats (like size, strength and speed), and combine them in such a way that your team is likely to beat other teams. Sports is just stats and data wrapped up in a fun, fast moving package of action. Just like video games.
     I think I can take this further, and I am assuming that most people that don't really care about WOW have stopped reading at this point, so I'm going to go for it. Each position on a football team is like a class in WOW. The quarterbacks are elves, obviously, the offensive linemen are trolls, the defensive linemen are goblins/orcs, the receivers/secondary are rangers, the runningbacks are dwarves? and the kickers are halflings. (Remember, I've never actually played WOW, D&D or football, so this might not be precise, but I bet you can clean it up).

     Right!? Fantasy Football = Dungeons and Dragons. One of those two is considered "cool" while the other isn't, but really, the demographics of both have merged with the internets.

Aliens

     "What is one thing that would really force you to question your beliefs"


     A friend asked me this question a few months ago, with regards to Christianity. At some level it is a question that, based on how I answer, allows the one who posed the question to evaluate how I pursue my belief. If I say "nothing could make me question my beliefs" than I must not really analyze or challenge anything that comes from a religious standpoint. On the other hand, if the thing that makes me really question Christianity is very plausible, or in fact has happened in the past, then I look like an idiot. (This question wasn't posed in a threatening or challenging way of any sort, for the record, but was genuinely curious). I think it's a great question that everyone should ask themselves and of others.

     So, having just discussed how I try to approach my faith in a logical fashion, let's begin with these beliefs that I accept as true:

1) God created the universe and everything in it.
2) God created humans on earth
3) Jesus (God as a human) died and rose from the dead to save humans from their sins.

     "What is one thing that would really force you to question your beliefs"


     Lucky for me, I had thought this through before. Kind from a backwards approach, where I realized that if x were to happen, I'd really question my faith in Christ.

The potentially biggest obstacle
 between me and my faith

     The one thing that would most cause me to question my faith is discovering intelligent life on another planet. Really, it's more than "intelligent life" but life with a soul. (No, I don't have any method of proving if aliens would or would not have a soul, but meet me halfway). Why? There's a few reasons.

     1) I've talked about how the universe we live in is a whole bunch of systems that God started and let run a long time ago. I'm of the opinion that the universe exists solely for us to run around in. That means that all of the other planets and solar systems and galaxies and everything else out there is pretty much a byproduct of creation (which could have been done via big bang for all I know or care).
     Life, in my opinion, is still a tiny miracle every time it happens. Every new creature and new bit of life is God shooting a little lightning bolt to earth and yelling "Go!" He puts life on Earth. If life and humanity was the sole purpose of creation, I don't see why God would put life on other planets as well. There's no need for him to put it on Mars or anyplace we haven't yet found.
     If there was unintelligent life on another planet, I would still really examine what I believe and why. If we found that trees are growing somewhere out there, I wouldn't be terribly concerned, but my theory about life being "God lightning bolts" would break down. If there were animals crawling around, I would be much more skeptic, but I still don't think it would be shattering. (I would essentially be forced to change my opinion that life is a tiny miracle happening by the grace of God every day. Instead I would view it as yet another "system" that God put in place and is running along just fine.) If, however there were some sort of "people" "walking around," I would have one main question:

     2) Do they have some form of Judaism/Christianity? I feel like their humanity would have the same types of issues as ours did: at some point falling from the grace of God, or not falling and still being in a garden of eden like state. If either of those two scenarios are not present at some level, then pretty much everything I've believed I am going to re-examine very closely.

     I don't expect you to really care or agree with any of this. But when I've had this conversation with other people they've been genuinely interested, and I find that writing it out makes me think through it better. So I figured there's a chance that you might care or have similar/differing thoughts. Please feel free to leave them as a comment below (or email me, grant dot gilchrist at gmail). I just felt the desire to express it.

     For what it's worth, my wife was asked the same question and said "the equivalent of the rapture happening in some other religion." Meaning, if the biggest, grandest, most final prophecies of other religions came true, she would probably believe that religion instead. A much smarter, simpler answer, really.

A picture of the baby, because I know that's why half of you are here anyways.

Biblical Logic and (Not) Proving God Exists

Author's note: holy crap this ended up being long. I was tempted to break it up into two posts, like I usually do when I try to get smart, but decided not to. I will put some pictures in to make it prettier. Also, you are now able to leave comments below if you so choose. Thanks for reading.


     I hold an opinion that a lot of people don't agree with. I think the Bible is a very logical piece of work, and that my Christian faith is a logical exercise as well. People take issue with this notion because they believe the Bible is contradictory, or don't see how a position of faith and belief can be defended or pursued in a logical fashion. But, if I accept the following things to be true:
     a) Jesus was who He said He was (God in human form)
     b) Jesus was raised from death after being crucified
then pretty much everything else falls into place. I am not a philosopher, and never took any sort of a "logic" class at any point in my education. But I majored in mathematics, which means that I essentially majored in logic, so here are some thoughts.

     I think a lot of people hear the word "logic" and think "scientific." These are two very different things, that I am going to attempt to define without looking up actual definitions. "Science" is a method of testing something that we think is or is not accurate. Isolate a variable, test the variable, interpret the results. This scientific method is applied to all kinds of areas of life and nature. So, based on my limited understanding, something being "scientific" doesn't necessarily mean it's based in physics or chemistry, it just means it was tested using some form of that method. I think most people know this, but the term "scientific" tends to get thrown around a lot these days and is losing its true meaning.
     "Logic," on the other hand, is applying a previously agreed upon or accepted system of rules to any desired presupposition. ("Presupposition" basically means "let's pretend this is true and see what follows." It's the starting point.) A presupposition doesn't have to be true, or even reasonable, for logic to be applied to it.

This picture is not just filler.

     (For what it's worth, Mr. CS Lewis himself first exposed me to this idea. In The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe the professor explains to Peter the following: It's not illogical for a fantastic wonderland to exist in the wardrobe if Lucy says one does, because Lucy isn't prone to lying or confusing fantasy with reality. Instead of starting with the presupposition "fantasy lands don't exist," he starts with "Lucy doesn't lie," and goes from there. It might not be probable, or even believable that Narnia exists, but that doesn't make it illogical.)
     If I start with the above presuppositions (that Jesus was who He said He was (God in human form) and that Jesus was raised from death after being crucified), most of the rest of the Bible makes sense. To me, it's very logical, and I am a pretty decent logician.

     What I don't try and do, ever, is prove that God exists. I can't. I don't think anyone can. Well, obviously no one can or else someone would have done so and this wouldn't be an issue. The fact that I can't prove His existence doesn't bother me, because I find His existence to be logically consistent with what I know and understand about the world, my life, and other presuppositions I have chosen to accept.
     A lot of people take issue with the fact that God's existence can't be proven. They point to "science." (Remember that science really means "a system for testing variables," but I am going to its more common definition which is "stuff we know.") "Science" has done a lot for humanity. Pretty much everything I interact with on a daily basis that is man-made has its root in science at some level. Science put a man on the moon, science puts probes on the ocean floor, and science gives us medicine and healthcare. Since science has done so much for us, a lot of people (understandably) put more stock in it than they do in the notion of a God or one of His potentially holy books. So, it's fairly logical to assume that if science, which has done all of these fantastic things in a fairly short period of time, can't prove God's existence, He probably doesn't exist. Couple that with all of the disease, disaster and death in the world, and people don't want a part of Him.

On a fairly unrelated note: who would make
their children watch this? I am terrified already!

     I differ in my presuppositions. If someone states "science can't prove God exists, so I doubt He exists" they are at some level assuming science has been trying to prove He exists. I don't think that's the case. (From what I understand, early scientists believed He existed and either used that knowledge to assume there was order in the universe, or try to prove His existence through order in the universe. Some of this was misguided: People believed that the Earth was the center of the universe because that's where God put it. So when that was proven wrong, it was interpreted as an assault on God's existence or creation, but in hindsight that's really not the case.)
     All that to say: just because we can't prove God exists doesn't make me question His existence any more than anything else might make me question His existence. (In fact, often in mathematics proofs aren't accomplished by proving something MUST be true, but by proving that it can't NOT be true. I can't prove God exists, but I can easily accept that He can't NOT exist). For me, it's a logical pursuit. I am just starting at a point that atheists don't tend to start at. I readily accept that if Jesus wasn't who he said he was, and if he didn't resurrect himself from death, then my Christian faith is pretty damn empty.

     Another presupposition of mine (I use that word to sound smart), and this one is going to be tough for me to articulate: I've stated before

            "Science is man attempting to figure out how God does what He does." -Grant Gilchrist 

which is really a pretty brilliant quote that should go on my tombstone if I ever die. Well, if I am assuming God exists, can I test the existence of the Thing that created my ability to test? Or, can I test the existence of the Thing that created the other things I test? I honestly don't know. It seems like I should be able to, but it seems pretty impossible at the same time. Can science test the existence of God? I don't think anyone is trying, and maybe they should?
     Jesus famously quoted Deuteronomy when he said "Do not put the Lord your God to the test," but I've always interpreted that to mean "don't push Him." Like when a bratty kid challenges his and mom is trying to convince the kid not to get a spanking. Don't test her, she will spank you. I don't think that's the same kind of "test" as trying to see if God exists.
     Testing God's existence happened throughout the Old Testament. People walked in ovens, seas were parted, armies went blind, etc. But the most "scientific" of all the tests, at least that I know of, came from Gideon. He basically said "God if you want me to do something, I want my jacket, which I will leave out overnight, to get wet but the ground around it to stay dry." Then that happened. Then he said "God, just to make sure, tonight I don't want my jacket to get wet and I want the ground around it wet." And it happened. He essentially isolated a variable (the jacket) and ran a couple tests on it. (He even used the word "test" in my translation).

     So, why isn't anyone testing to see if there is a God?
     Here's the obvious, main problem: Testing God (or any human) isn't a hard science. To test the existence of God, you'd have to play by that existing God's rules. We play by God's rules when we test matter and chemicals, because we are working within his system of nature. But testing God relies on an understanding of His system of Himself (if that makes any sense at all). He's a being, so He probably won't respond the same way to every test. It would take a supreme understanding of how He works and why He acts in the ways that He does. And this knowledge could really only be gained by a) assuming he exists, and b) assuming one of those holy books floating around there is actually Holy. You'd essentially have to be a believer.
     One might argue that point. That believing something, as opposed to accepting results of experiments, taints the scientific process. Ultimately, this is no different from any other aspect of the scientific method. Take Euclidean geometry, in my opinion the most basic and accessible forms of all the sciences. Euclidean geometry has a thousand proofs and theorems and laws that everyone accepts and trusts. But Euclidean geometry is based on 5 key axioms. An axiom is basically something everyone agrees is true. Something everyone believes is true. From wikipedia, the 5 Euclidean axioms (with my additions in bold):

1. "To draw a straight line from any point to any point."    (meaning one line connects two points)
2. "To produce [extend] a finite straight line continuously in a straight line."     (a line segment can be extended into an infinite line)
3. "To describe a circle with any centre and distance [radius]."     (a circle is what a circle is)
4. "That all right angles are equal to one another."     (all right angles are equal to one another)
5. The parallel postulate: "That, if a straight line falling on two straight lines make the interior angles on the same side less than two right angles, the two straight lines, if produced indefinitely, meet on that side on which are the angles less than the two right angles."

     Look at that 5th one. It's not at all obvious. The first four make pretty good sense. The fifth one isn't obvious when you read it, but if you look into it just a bit it also is very sensible. The point being, none of those 5 things can be proved. They have to be accepted. Starting from a point of belief is necessary for any sort of proof or demonstration. This is no different with my faith in God. Well, the difference is that everyone accepts the definition of a circle, not everyone accepts the existence of a God.
     The point I am trying to make is that accepting the existence of a God would not negate any evidence that might suggest the existence of a God, it is in fact how any evidence is ever gathered.