God in the Quad and Falling Trees

There was a young man who said "God
Must find it exceedingly odd
To see that this tree
Still continues to be
When there's no-one about in the quad".

Dear Sir, Your astonishment's odd;
I am always about in the quad;
And that's why the tree
Still continues to be
Since observed by, Yours faithfully, God.

No, you aren't confused and neither am I, it's not Funny Friday and I haven't posted some limericks on a Saturday by mistake. The limericks are both the subject of, and introduction to, today's post.

The above limericks are comments upon the views of George Berkeley (1685-1753), aka Bishop Berkeley, a philosopher who espoused a theory he called “immaterialism”.

George Berkeley

Berkeley's theory, which sounds like something out of The Matrix, argues that physical things do not really exist except as ideas, until they are perceived by the senses of people perceiving those physical things. His expression “to be is to be perceived” summed it up. Hence as you sit at your computer at your desk at home, you see the images on the screen, you feel the keyboard keys, you hear the sound of the keys and the sounds from the speakers. If you are at work, how do you know that the computer on your desk at home still exists? It exists in your mind and memory, but that does not equate to existence in fact. You believe it still exists but you don't know that it does.  To validate existence of material objects we need to use our senses. 

Okay, I can dig that, I hear you say, the computer may have been destroyed in a fire and no longer exist. But Berkeley takes it further. He is not saying that existence is dependent on existence, he says that when not perceived, an object ceases existence. WTF??? He says that things keep going from existing to not existing and then existing again?? Well, yes, but he has a Catch 22 to cover that: things exist only when perceived, but there is a perceiver even when no people are there, namely the Infinite Perceiver, God, who perceives everything from an infinite perspective. Hence your lap top at home still exists when you go to work because it is observed by God. 

What if you don't believe in God but accept Berkeley's hypothesis? Well, then you have a problem, a bit like the buttered cat paradox, see:

http://bytesdaily.blogspot.com.au/2010/08/laws-and-principles-buttered-cat.html 

Berkeley's ideas were summed up by Ronald Knox (1888-1957) in the above spoof limericks. An English priest and theologian, Knox was also a writer and a regular broadcaster for BBC Radio. It has been suggested that the first limerick was by an undergraduate of Balliol College at Oxford and that the response was by Ronald Knox; more commonly it is thought that Knox wrote both. 

Ronald Knox 

By the way: 

In January 1926, for one of his regular BBC Radio programs, Knox broadcast a pretended live report of revolution sweeping across London, entitled Broadcasting from the Barricades. In addition to live reports of persons, including a government minister being lynched, his broadcast cleverly mixed supposed band music from the Savoy Hotel with the hotel's purported destruction by trench mortars. The Houses of Parliament and the clock tower were also said to have been flattened. 

Because the broadcast occurred on a snowy weekend, much of the United Kingdom was unable to get the newspapers until days later - the lack of newspapers caused a minor panic, as it was believed that this was caused by the events in London. 

A 2005 BBC report on the broadcast suggests that the innovative style of Knox's program may have influenced Orson Welles’ radio broadcast War of the Worlds broadcast in 1938 and foreshadowed it in its consequences. Welles presented the broadcast, news reports of a Martian invasion, in increasingly intense and descriptive news interruptions to regular programming, causing many to believe in the truth of the invasion. It resulted in public panic crowded roads as people sought to flee but reports of suicides have been found to be untrue. 

In a related philosophical concept to Berkeley’s God in the Quad is the question “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” This raises issues similar to those put forward by Berkeley as to unobserved reality and unperceived existence. One view says that sound is audible noise and that the tree will make a sound even if no one is there to hear it. The other view is that the unobserved event is identical to an event which did not occur at all. 

I will not go into a further discussion about the topic or about Zen philosophy etc concerning the tree falling. Those who wish to do so can discuss it with my son Thomas who gets quite involved in the metaphysics of the tree falling issue. 

What I do want to post is some humorous parodies and questions on the topic.

Firstly, the nodern age equivalent, especially for younger people:

And some others. . . 

One of my favourites. . .

A sad one, although off topic. . .

. . and another sad one to finish. . . 

One final thought:

If a tree falls in the wood and no-one is there to hear it, is it funny if it falls on a deaf person?

Funny Friday

Following last week's items about the election of the new Pope, Byter Sue emailed me the item below.  Thanks Sue.

Every time a new Pope is elected, there are many rituals in accordance with tradition, but, there is one tradition that very few people know about.

Shortly after a new Pope is enthroned, the Chief Rabbi of Rome seeks an audience. He is shown into the Pope's presence, whereupon he presents the Pope with a silver tray bearing a velvet cushion. On top of the cushion is an ancient, shriveled envelope. The Pope symbolically stretches out his arm in a gesture of rejection. The Chief Rabbi then retires, taking the envelope with him and does not return until the next Pope is elected.

A new Pope's reign was shortly followed by a new Chief Rabbi. He was intrigued by this ritual and that its origins were unknown to him. He instructed the best scholars of the Vatican to research it, but they came up with nothing.

When the time came and the Chief Rabbi was shown into his presence, they faithfully enacted the ritual rejection but, as the Chief Rabbi turned to leave, the Pope called him back.

"My brother," the Pope whispered, "I must confess that we Catholics are ignorant of the meaning of this ritual enacted for centuries between us and you, the representative of the Jewish people. I have to ask you, what is it all about?"

The Chief Rabbi shrugged and replied: "We have no more idea than you do. The origin of the ceremony is lost in the traditions of ancient history."

The Pope said: "Let us retire to my private chambers and enjoy a glass of kosher wine together; then with your agreement, we shall open the envelope and discover the secret at last." The Chief Rabbi agreed.

Fortified in their resolve by the wine, they gingerly pried open the curling parchment envelope and with trembling fingers, the Chief Rabbi reached inside and extracted a folded sheet of similarly ancient paper. 

As the Pope peered over his shoulder, he slowly opened it. They both gasped with shock.

It was a bill. . . 

Moishe

Jerusalem’s Best Kosher Caterer 

Bill 

12 Suppers........144 Shekels 

The staff at a local charity office realised that it had never received a donation from the town's most successful lawyer. The person in charge of contributions called the lawyer to persuade him to contribute.

"Our research shows that out of a yearly income of $500,000, you have not given even a penny to charity. Wouldn't you like to give back to the community in some way?" 

The lawyer mulled this over for a moment and replied, "First, did your research also show that my mother is dying after a long illness and has medical bills that are several times her annual income?" 

Embarrassed, the charity organisation representative mumbled, "Uh, no, I did not know that.” 

"Or," the lawyer continued, "that my brother, a disabled veteran, is blind and confined to a wheelchair?" 

The caller began to stammer out an apology but was interrupted when the lawyer added, "Or that my sister's husband died in a traffic accident,” the lawyer's voice rising in indignation, "leaving her penniless with three children?" 

The humiliated caller, completely beaten, said simply, "I had no idea. I’m so sorry sir." 

On a roll, the lawyer rudely cut him off once again, "So, if I don't give any money to them, why should I give any to you?" 

I've just seen an advert in my local newspaper.

ACCOUNTANT NEEDED!

£35,000 - £40,000

So I phoned them up and said, "The answer is -£5,000." 

Mildred, the local, small-town church gossip and self-appointed monitor of morals, kept sticking her nose into other people's business. Several members did not approve of her spying and gossip but they feared her enough to maintain their silence. She made a mistake, however, when she accused George, a new member, of being an alcoholic after she saw his old pickup parked in front of the town's only bar one afternoon. She emphatically told George and several others that everyone seeing it there would know exactly what he was doing and made it clear that she not approve. George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just turned and walked away. He didn't explain, defend or deny. Later that evening, George quietly parked his old pickup right in front of Mildred's house and walked home. 

I will never understand the teenagers of today.

They have unprotected sex, but have cases on their phones... 

The Limerick Spot:

(The place in the first line of the following limerick is pronounced Tottnum in best English, but for the purpose of this limerick it can be pronounced Tottenum)

There was a young lady from Tottenham,

Her manners - she'd simply forgotten 'em.

During tea at the vicar's

She ripped off her knickers

Because she was feeling too hot in 'em.

Ain't it the truth...

An Anecdote

Years ago I used to go to the local club in Ashfield on a Friday night, have a meal and listen to the jazz band that played there. My favourite number and weekly request was St James Infirmary, the band would effortlessly blend into that number when I walked in. 

There were 3 sets on the night. The first set consisted of the band playing favourites, slower pieces interspersed with faster ones. In the second set, after a break, people who wished to join in were invited onto the stage. Often they had pianists, banjo players, guitar players, trombonists (is that a word?), trumpeters, cornetists (is that a word?). Once I saw an elderly lady, probably near 80, do a very good rendition of Georgia. For the third set, everyone joined in, good raw loud rollicking jazz numbers. 

Each week a man, German, about late 60’s, came up from the audience with his cornet and played with the band during the second and third sets.  He was able to improvise and he was worth listening to. I recall that his name was Urdo and I also recall that he was quite nervous, fearful almost, at the prospect of playing in front of an audience.  A band member told me early on that Urdo was always fearful of playing in front of people but it didn't stop him.. Once Urdo began playing there was only he and the cornet. Urdo closed his eyes as he played, his nervousness gone, oblivious to the crowd.  Only the music mattered for him when he played.

I sat with him one night and we shared beers and conversation. In his German accent Urdo told me some of his history, of having come to Australia, the loss of his wife, his love of jazz. He told me that he used to go to various venues to listen to jazz bands, much like I was doing, and that on one occasion he had sat and chatted with the leader of the jazz band he had been listening to. 

I will use his words, as closely as I recall them, for the rest of the story: 

"I told him that it had always been a deep regret in my life that I had never learned to play a musical instrument, that I loved jazz and that I would have loved to play." 

"He asked me what instrument I would have chosen if I had learned and I said ‘the cornet’."  

‘Then buy one and learn it,’ he said to me.  

I was more than 50 years old but I did what he told me, I bought a cornet and I learned to play it."

Years later Urdo met the band leader again and was able to jam with him on his cornet.  Urdo had also played with other jazz bands and had travelled overseas a couple of times to take part in jazz festivals.

Reader Comment

From Byter Kara:

Hi Otto  

Just wanted to mention my son also underwent surgery for pyloric stenosis. In his case at six weeks. He was spilling/vomiting from birth, quietly in his sleep at times, and lost two pounds before being diagnosed. I was sent to the hospital by my (fantastic) midwife who had relinquished care after three weeks. I called her after the weight loss became obvious and I was getting the blame for Bill's 'failure to thrive". She came to my home and immediately got us to hospital. When being examined by the doctor Bill quietly vomited but his stomach contorted and looked as if it was full of snakes! From what she saw the doctor immediately stated pyloric stenosis, though as you know projectile vomiting and a distressed baby are the normal symptoms.  

We were told the condition is also more prevalent in males and often runs in families. When my husband later spoke to his mother (in Holland) we discovered one of his nephews had gone through the same thing 20 years earlier. Bill now 17, 6 foot 7, and very robust! I have seen from the occasional photos that pop up that Acacia is also doing well!  

Kind regards  

Kara  

PS:  The one and the same midwife, far from turning me away, spent an entire night with me at our local maternity hospital, when I though I was in labour with son number two. It was somewhat embarrassing when she drove me home at 7 am the next morning. Davey was born two days later. It was in the early nineties that the local community fought successfully to save the hospital, my boys were born in '95 & '97. 

Thanks, Kara.

Tuesday Pics

Did you know that these days there is an increasing celebration of divorce which includes a cake, similar to a wedding cake? Here is a selection of divorce cakes. . . 

and the final one, which is the cake equivalent of Alanis Morisette's You Oughta Know . . . 

"As one investor said in 2009: ‘This is worse than divorce.   I’ve lost half my net worth – and I still have my wife.’  " 

-Warren Buffett

Monday Quote

Paula and Scott Bailey with baby Madison, who was born in the carpark of Nepean hospital 

''That's pregnancy, love. Suck it up, princess. You don't know what pain is but you will when the baby comes.'' 

- Alleged comment by a nurse at Nepean Hospital 

to patient Paula Bailey, who was about to give birth and who was sent away. 

Nepean Hospital is a 520 bed hospital located at Kingswood, near Penrith, about 50 kilometres west of Sydney CBD. It is where my daughter, Acacia, was born. 

(When Acacia was a 9 week old baby and unwell with projectile vomiting, the doctor at Nepean diagnosed gastro-enteritis and advised giving sweetened condensed milk, notwithstanding that Acacia was unable to keep anything down. A demand to see a paediatrician was only acceded to when  Acacia projectile vomited in front of the resident doctor.  After examination by the pediatrician there was a revised diagnosis of pyloric stenosis, a constriction of the intestine. Acacia was immediately admitted to the Children’s Hospital at Camperdown and operated on.)

Nepean Hospital

Recently Nepean Hospital has been in the news for sending away two pregnant women who needed admission. 

The following extract , which contains the above quotation, is part of a news report from yesterday’s Sydney Morning Herald: 

On February 7, an overdue Michelle Trotter presented at Nepean, only to be sent home with Panadeine Forte and sleeping pills. Two hours later, she was back, having given birth on her own kitchen floor.  

Just two days later, a heavily pregnant Paula Bailey arrived at Nepean Hospital with her husband Scott, only to be sent home three hours later without any medical assessment.  

When Mrs Bailey aired concern, a nurse allegedly replied: ''That's pregnancy, love. Suck it up, princess. You don't know what pain is but you will when the baby comes.'' Mrs Bailey's waters then broke when she arrived home, triggering a frantic dash back to Nepean.  

She once again failed to gain assistance - resulting in her baby, Madison, being born in the hospital car park at 3am. 

http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/what-if-something-had-gone-wrong-20130316-2g7fq.html#ixzz2NnwDujrk