Virus of the Mind, Fungi of the Imagination, Fumigation of the Commuter Program, or Get to the Point Already Mr. Dawkins

And now to the point. 

~ Richard Dawkins

Good Lord, (or un-lord or virulent pseudo-being, whichsoever Richard D. prefers), please get to it already—the point that is.

This article was exhausting to the point of boredom.  Mr. Dawkins could have easily summed up his theories in a few short sentences.  Droning on unnecessarily seems only to prove a perverse fascination with oratorical diarrhea—perhaps a symptom of these viruses so described.

Moreover, I cannot quite equate his ramblings (that have decidedly limited inner-connectivity and relevance) with theories but his trappings seem closer to a heady recipe of personally religious-driven prejudices and semantics.  Was he spanked by a nun?  One could only imagine.

I was quite disappointed with the whole lot.  I had rather looked forward to this article as I too have struggled with some particularly Christian questions that have never been satisfactorily explained so that my limited brain can comprehend the exact or the implied meaning:

* What or who exactly is the Holy Ghost?

* What does Jesus having died for my sins have to do with anything at all?  How does this process of a man subjecting himself to torture terminating in his passing absolve me of my Earthly misdemeanors?

* Why do some Christians use the titles Jesus and God interchangeably?  Are they the same?  I thought Jesus was supposed to be the son of God.

Mostly, however, I want to know why and how these followers believe as they do.  I am constantly mystified upon attending church.  The sermons seem pedantic, circular, illogical, only semi-relatable, and typically rousing enough to produce dozing (even among the congregation).  However, what I find most perplexing (and somewhat embarrassing—that same emotion one feels after having walked in on one’s parents engaged in raucous sex) is those faithful servants who close their eyes and lift their arms Heaven-ward in exultation (typically during hymn singing).  What is that?

I had hoped that Mr. Dawkins would give some plausible explanation of how and why this might be—this faith, how it occurs, how it is spread (other than missionaries and the missionary position).
I was most disappointed to discover a diatribe on computer viruses deconstructing into a mish-mosh of religiously-ridiculous symptoms masquerading as type set from a heavy medical tome.  As it turns out, the boring bits on commuter viruses held more fact than Dawkins poor analogy of religious faith purporting as virus.

 In fact, some of his examples of religious viruses fail to meet his earlier definitions.  When describing computer viruses, Dawkins asserts that a virus must not replicate so virulently as to destroy the host.  This must be true for computers as well for living organisms.  Otherwise, the virus’s entire life cycle would decidedly be less than cosmic blink, perhaps contained to only one machine or one creature.

Yet, in comparing religious faith to viruses, Dawkins cites fanatics so entrenched in their disease that they follow their beliefs to the grave—as the case with Jim Jones.
The spread of religious virus is also predominantly through the vehicle of birth and hence rearing of impressionable, gullible children in a given environment by parents (or other mentors) who are also infected.
While it is possible for viruses to be spread in this same manner, this is not often the prime vehicle of transmittance and therefore another poorly constructed metaphor.

If Mr. Dawkins is so concerned for his six year old daughter, believing she is sure to catch such a virus as Catholicism from a nun, why not remove her from Catholic school, or better yet… vaccinate her by teaching her to think for herself?  Is this not yet another plausible solution?

Lastly, Dawkins explanation of Zahavi’s anthropomorphic peacock talk was nothing short of annoying.  He reminded me of those few acquaintances that fail to grasp both social morays and puns.  Yes, yes, yes, we must always be clear in science, yet does this leave us no room for wit?  Apparently not in Dawkins’s world.

Unlike Dawkins’s assertion that I should be virus-addled with the Lutheran and Church of England diseased-culture I was born into, I ascribe to neither faith.  Nor did I conduct a survey of the world’s faiths having rejected my parents’ beliefs.  Neither have I been taken in by the likes of Tammy Faye Bakker.  Perhaps Mr. Dawkins is just sore about being taken in himself.  His writings do carry the underpinnings of someone who has felt a private sting.

Although I do not disagree with Dawkins’s clever analogy, I wished he had packaged it in a tidier form.  Less words, Mr. Dawkins, more clarity of thought.  Leave the muddling to mixologists rather than biologists.