On Conspiracy Theories, Confusing Data, and Denialism (Observations of the Week)
1. An Observation on Denialism
There was a moment in history when the world’s brightest minds were subject to persecution for believing the earth orbited the sun, which was contrary to the popular belief that we were the center of the universe and that the sun orbited us. There was likewise an era when those who believed the world was round were subject to the inquisition. In each instance, there were deniers—Orbital Deniers and Global Deniers—and their denial was bolstered by the kings, the church, and the power of mass delusion.
In the same way, there are many deniers of [insert the many deniable things}. They use confusing data, conspiracy theories, or brute-force head-in-the-sandism to support long-held beliefs. Their dogmas are fixed and they dismiss any contradicting data. They believe whatever truth fits the truth-shaped hole in their own noggins.
This is human nature, and we’re all subject to our own pet denialisms. So, when the Santa Deniers come out in full force this year—whether on Twitter, Facebook, or the office Christmas Party—don’t engage their petty arguments. Don’t give in to their cynicism, either. Simply smile, wish them a merry Christmas, and go on your way in the knowledge that someone will not be getting a lump of coal in their stocking this year.
2. A Little Photography For Your Monday
On Endings (Observations of the Week)
1. A Bit of Hard-Earned Writing Advice
I am a writer, and not just of books with my name on the cover. I’m a co-writer and editor, the kind of pen-wielder who helps authors and publishers breathe life into their books.
Several years ago, I labored on a handful of books, each which had a clear beginning (with rising tension), a clear middle (with harrowing climax), but no clear ending. And so, in each instance, we created aspirational endings, endings which attempted to project some future resolution (some future business, some future geographic relocation, some future non-profit, whatever). These books left me unsatisfied, and it’s only now that I see why: Literature, like life, demands resolution, a satisfactory conclusion marked with a final period and followed by plenty of white space. So, if you’re a writer, hold off on publishing stories until you’re satisfied with the white space following The End.
2. Marcus Aurelius and the Power of Examination
This weekend, I read portions of Marcus Aurelius Meditations. There, I stumbled across this passage: “Nothing is so conducive to greatness of mind as the ability to subject each element of our experience in life to methodical and truthful examination…”
Examining my writing experiences truthfully led me to examine my dissatisfaction with the books mentioned above. Those stories ended in limbo or, in a very Catholic sense, purgatory. As emotional creatures, creatures who need our villains punished (often to death) and our heroes rewarded (or occasionally tortured), we want stories ending in heaven (comedy) or hell (tragedy). Anything less is lukewarm at best, and we all know what the holy books say about lukewarm endings.
3. True Masters Understand the Need for Closure
There are exceptions to every universal rule, even writing rules. But the grand masters of both literature and life write toward clear resolution. (Even Marcus Aurelius.) Why? Because writers, as observers of humanity, understand the universal human need for closure. Completion. The end of all things.
The end.
Observation #8: Observing the Bones
On a trip to southern Louisiana, I saw the bones of the old oak. The erosion of the marshland, the encroaching salt water, the change in climate—all of it takes its toll on living things.
Observation #8: Bones make beautiful photos, though that’s no silver lining.
*For behind the scenes content join the inner circle. Photo taken with the Canon M-50.
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Observation #7: Focusing on a Piece of the Whole
Enamored by its texture, its finger-pointing steeple, I took the photo of the old brick church in Mooresville, Alabama. I loved the landscape image, the way the facade stood proud when framed just right. But as I stepped back from the church, as I took stock of the building, I noticed the way the shadows and light played on the front porch, the way they seemed to peel the layers of paint on the columns.
Observation #7: Sometimes perspective comes by focusing on a piece of the whole.
*For behind the scenes content join the inner circle. Photo taken with the Canon M-50.
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