Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World
Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World Carl%20Sagan%20-%20The%20Demon%20Haunted%20World
THE DEMON-HAUNTED WORLD Sometimes I dream that I'm talking to my parents, and suddenly - still immersed in the dreamwork - I'm seized by the overpowering realization that they didn't really die, that it's all been some kind of horrible mistake. Why, here they are, alive and well, my father making wry jokes, my mother earnestly advising me to wear a muffler because the weather is chilly. When I wake up I go through an abbreviated process of mourning all over again. Plainly, there's something within me that's ready to believe in life after death. And it's not the least bit interested in whether there's any sober evidence for it. So I don't guffaw at the woman who visits her husband's grave and chats him up every now and then, maybe on the anniversary of his death. It's not hard to understand. And if I have difficulties with the ontological status of who she's talking to, that's all right. That's not what this is about. This is about humans being human. More than a third of American adults believe that on some level they've made contact with the dead. The number seems to have jumped by 15 per cent between 1977 and 1988. A quarter of Americans believe in reincarnation. But that doesn't mean I'd be willing to accept the pretensions of a 'medium', who claims to channel the spirits of the dear departed, when I'm aware the practice is rife with fraud. I know how much I want to believe that my parents have just abandoned the husks of their bodies, like insects or snakes moulting, and gone somewhere else. I understand that those very feelings might make me easy prey even for an unclever con, or for normal people unfamiliar with their unconscious minds, or for those suffering from a dissociative psychiatric disorder. Reluctantly, I rouse some reserves of scepticism. How is it, I ask myself, that channellers never give us verifiable information otherwise unavailable? Why does Alexander the Great never tell us about the exact location of his tomb, Fermat about his Last Theorem, James Wilkes Booth about the Lincoln assassination conspiracy, Hermann Goering about the Reichstag fire? Why don't Sophocles, Democritus and Aristarchus dictate their lost books? Don't they wish future generations to have access to their masterpieces? If some good evidence for life after death were announced, I'd 190
The Fine Art of Baloney Detection be eager to examine it; but it would have to be real, scientific data, not mere anecdote. As with the face on Mars and alien abductions, better the hard truth, I say, than the comforting fantasy. And in the final tolling it often turns out that the facts are more comforting than the fantasy. The fundamental premise of 'channelling', spiritualism, and other forms of necromancy is that when we die we don't. Not exactly. Some thinking, feeling, and remembering part of us continues. That whatever-it-is - a soul or spirit, neither matter nor energy, but something else - can, we are told, re-enter the bodies of human and other beings in the future, and so death loses much of its sting. What's more, we have an opportunity, if the spiritualist or channelling contentions are true, to make contact with loved ones who have died. J.Z. Knight of the State of Washington claims to be in touch with a 35,000-year-old somebody called 'Ramtha'. He speaks English very well, using Knight's tongue, lips and vocal cords, producing what sounds to me to be an accent from the Indian Raj. Since most people know how to talk, and many - from children or professional actors - have a repertoire of voices at their command, the simplest hypothesis is that Ms Knight makes 'Ramtha' speak all by herself, and that she has no contact with disembodied entities from the Pleistocene Ice Age. If there's evidence to the contrary, I'd love to hear it. It would be considerably more impressive if Ramtha could speak by himself, without the assistance of Ms Knight's mouth. Failing that, how might we test the claim? (The actress Shirley MacLaine attests that Ramtha was her brother in Atlantis, but that's another story.) Suppose Ramtha were available for questioning. Could we verify whether he is who he says he is? How does he know that he lived 35,000 years ago, even approximately? What calendar does he employ? Who is keeping track of the intervening millennia? Thirty-five thousand plus or minus what? What were things like 35,000 years ago? Either Ramtha really is 35,000 years old, in which case we discover something about that period, or he's a phoney and he'll (or rather she'll) slip up. Where did Ramtha live? (I know he speaks English with an Indian accent, but where 35,000 years ago did they do that?) What 191
- Page 151 and 152: On the Distinction between True and
- Page 153 and 154: On the Distinction between True and
- Page 155 and 156: 9 Therapy It is a capital mistake t
- Page 157 and 158: Therapy memories of rape and childh
- Page 159 and 160: Therapy and confabulations, and the
- Page 161 and 162: Therapy Survivors of Child Sexual A
- Page 163 and 164: Therapy name of God, Jesus and Moha
- Page 165 and 166: Therapy children in social assembli
- Page 167 and 168: Therapy by Corydon Hammond, PhD, pa
- Page 169 and 170: Therapy How much training in scient
- Page 171 and 172: Therapy alien abductions to help th
- Page 173 and 174: The Dragon in My Garage An so on. I
- Page 175 and 176: The Dragon in My Garage Purported a
- Page 177 and 178: The Dragon in My Garage planets of
- Page 179 and 180: The Dragon in My Garage by a thin l
- Page 181 and 182: The Dragon in My Garage answer to w
- Page 183 and 184: The Dragon in My Garage tantamount
- Page 185 and 186: The Dragon in My Garage critical sc
- Page 187 and 188: The Dragon in My Garage Americans h
- Page 189 and 190: The Dragon in My Garage instrument,
- Page 191 and 192: 11 The City of Grief . . . how alie
- Page 193 and 194: The City of Grief • I don't know
- Page 195 and 196: The City of Grief space somewhere -
- Page 197 and 198: The City of Grief • You, sir, are
- Page 199 and 200: The City of Grief with] a silent ho
- Page 201: 12 The Fine Art of Baloney Detectio
- Page 205 and 206: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection f
- Page 207 and 208: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection w
- Page 209 and 210: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection w
- Page 211 and 212: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection m
- Page 213 and 214: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection e
- Page 215 and 216: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection w
- Page 217 and 218: The Fine Art of Baloney Detection i
- Page 219 and 220: 13 Obsessed with Reality A shipowne
- Page 221 and 222: Obsessed with Reality eating the gr
- Page 223 and 224: Obsessed with Reality stranger thin
- Page 225 and 226: Obsessed with Reality homes in Amer
- Page 227 and 228: Obsessed with Reality you put a rub
- Page 229 and 230: Obsessed with Reality 'miraculous'
- Page 231 and 232: Obsessed with Reality and epilepsy.
- Page 233 and 234: Obsessed with Reality about one in
- Page 235 and 236: Obsessed with Reality explain the f
- Page 237 and 238: Obsessed with Reality newspaper cha
- Page 239 and 240: Obsessed with Reality been describe
- Page 241 and 242: Obsessed with Reality they were cur
- Page 243 and 244: Obsessed with Reality argued, but t
- Page 245 and 246: Obsessed with Reality It is also a
- Page 247 and 248: Antiscience comeuppance. Science en
- Page 249 and 250: Antiscience appreciate humour in so
- Page 251 and 252: Antiscience obviously an important
THE DEMON-HAUNTED WORLD<br />
Sometimes I dream that I'm talking to my parents, and suddenly<br />
- still immersed in the dreamwork - I'm seized by the<br />
overpowering realization that they didn't really die, that it's all<br />
been some kind of horrible mistake. Why, here they are, alive and<br />
well, my father making wry jokes, my mother earnestly advising<br />
me to wear a muffler because the weather is chilly. When I wake<br />
up I go through an abbreviated process of mourning all over<br />
again. Plainly, there's something within me that's ready to believe<br />
in life after death. And it's not the least bit interested in whether<br />
there's any sober evidence for it.<br />
So I don't guffaw at the woman who visits her husband's grave<br />
and chats him up every now and then, maybe on the anniversary<br />
of his death. It's not hard to understand. And if I have difficulties<br />
with the ontological status of who she's talking to, that's all right.<br />
That's not what this is about. This is about humans being human.<br />
More than a third of American adults believe that on some level<br />
they've made contact with the dead. The number seems to have<br />
jumped by 15 per cent between 1977 and 1988. A quarter of<br />
Americans believe in reincarnation.<br />
But that doesn't mean I'd be willing to accept the pretensions of<br />
a 'medium', who claims to channel the spirits of the dear<br />
departed, when I'm aware the practice is rife with fraud. I know<br />
how much I want to believe that my parents have just abandoned<br />
the husks of their bodies, like insects or snakes moulting, and<br />
gone somewhere else. I understand that those very feelings might<br />
make me easy prey even for an unclever con, or for normal people<br />
unfamiliar with their unconscious minds, or for those suffering<br />
from a dissociative psychiatric disorder. Reluctantly, I rouse some<br />
reserves of scepticism.<br />
How is it, I ask myself, that channellers never give us verifiable<br />
information otherwise unavailable? Why does Alexander the<br />
Great never tell us about the exact location of his tomb, Fermat<br />
about his Last Theorem, James Wilkes Booth about the Lincoln<br />
assassination conspiracy, Hermann Goering about the Reichstag<br />
fire? Why don't Sophocles, Democritus and Aristarchus dictate<br />
their lost books? Don't they wish future generations to have<br />
access to their masterpieces?<br />
If some good evidence for life after death were announced, I'd<br />
190