If a vote is wasted …

I’m never sure if my sense of humour is more of a liability than an asset.

In an ideal democracy, Parliamentary representation is proportional. Christian Choice recommends that the 5% threshold be lowered or abolished. Why? If a vote is wasted, God gets quite irate.

That was my “full” submission on behalf of the embryonic Christian libertarian political think-tank, Christian Choice, submitted 5 minutes before the 5 April midnight deadline for those wanting to present in person to the Commission. It would have been more appropriate as a “quick” 5-minute submission, but that did not give the option of an in-person presentation.

[Update: I video-recorded my oral submission on my Android phone, but I’m damned if I can figure out how to rotate and edit a .3gp file under Ubuntu and upload it to YouTube. For the time being, here’s a transcript of my oral submission.]

I’m making this submission on behalf of an embryonic Christian libertarian political think-tank called Christian Choice.

The first thing I’d like to say is…

I’ll introduce myself first, I’m Richard Goode. I’m a Christian. And a libertarian.

The first thing I’d like to say is, thank God we live in New Zealand, where, even if our votes are wasted, and our representatives ignore what we have to say, at least we get to vote, and at least our representatives do put the time aside to listen to what we have to say. So the second thing I’d like to say is, thank you for listening.

I’m going to talk about the wasted vote problem, and I hope you’ll take heed of Christian Choice’s recommendation to lower or abolish the 5% threshold.

I alluded to the Life of Brian in my “full” online submission. “If a vote is wasted, God gets quite irate.” I’d now like to allude briefly to the ministry of Jesus. He gave us two new commandments, the second of which is “Love thy neighbour as theyself.” He could have said love thy neighbour twice as much as thyself, or half as much as thyself … but he didn’t. The second commandment, I hope you can see, embodies a principle of egalitarianism but also a principle of proportionality.

I think an ideal Parliamentary democracy should embody the very same principles of egalitarianism and proportionality. This means, one man, one vote. And it also means that each is to count for one, and none for more than one. (Or each is to count for two, under our system, and none for more than two votes.) But our current voting system falls short of this ideal.

I was 20 years old when I voted for the first time, this was in 1984. I voted under the FPP (First Past the Post) system for the local New Zealand Party candidate. And despite gaining 12.2% of the vote, the New Zealand Party gained no seats. Now I’m not somebody, and I never have been someone, who’s a mainstream voter. I wasn’t back then and I figured, quite correctly, that it was a pointless waste of my time voting again, so I didn’t vote again until the first MMP election in 1996. (Although I did vote in the 1993 referendum to bring MMP in.) And I have voted since then.

In ’96 I voted for the Aotearoa Legalise Cannabis Party. Their vote was 1.66%, which fell short of the 5% threshold. The Christian Coalition’s party vote was 4.33%, which also fell short of the threshold. And I believe that both parties should have been represented in Parliament.

I’ve voted since, again for the ALCP but also for Libertarianz Party , but I still consider it a bit of a pointless waste of time. because none of those parties has come close to the 5% threshold. And the reason they haven’t come close to the 5% theshold is because of the 5% threshold.

I’d like to talk about Epsom as well in the last election. The so-called strategic voting that went on in Epsom is an example of a fundamental flaw in the current system. The 5% threshold meant that voters in Epsom had to vote for a candidate they did not support, necessarily in order to affect the national result. And I’m talking about libertarian-minded voters. They had to vote for John Banks or felt that they did to get Don Brash and others into Parliament on John Banks’s coat-tails, as it were.

So they did manage to affect the national result, but … What good is it for someone to affect the national result, yet forfeit their soul?

You see, the existence of the 5% threshold provides perverse incentives to vote for parties who are not your first or second choice of party, and for candidates who are not even a third or fourth choice of candidate. I know of libertarian voters and members of ACT on Campus who voted “strategically” for John Banks in Epsom. And now those voters have to live with the fact that all they achieved, from their point of view, was to elect a single conservative MP to Parliament who actually has recently come out in opposition to the “Keep it 18” policy which ACT on Campus had previously championed. This is a perverse outcome.

I’ll quote a couple of libertarian acquaintances of mine. They’re not close friends and they’re not Christians but this is what they had to say, on the day. One of them said

last week I voted Banks and party vote ACT. I hate Banks. ACT isn’t good enough.

but they voted for him. And another person said

I’ll be voting for Act and I’ll utilize my Epsom electorate to candidate vote Banks. He’s an abominable piece of slime

Okay … now, when you’ve got people voting for John Banks, and that’s what they actually think of him, there’s something wrong with our electoral system. And I said to them at the time, I said, look, with friends of freedom like you guys, who needs enemies?

Christian Choice would like to see the threshold lowered or abolished to remove the incentives for such electoral perversion.

Now there is some concern that we need to keep a threshold, even if it is lowered. I think this concern is misplaced. There’s a worry that eliminating the 5% threshold will mean there are more parties in Parliament and make it more difficult to establish a stable Government. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Totalitarian regimes are often more stable than democratic ones but that doesn’t mean that they are a good thing. The purpose of having a democratic election system is not to ensure a stable Government. It is to provide representation for voters. And the most democratic way to do this is through proper proportional representation.

So we would like to see the threshold lowered, preferably abolished. There will still be a natural threshold. In a Parliament of 100 MPs it would be 1%. And in a Parliament of 120 MPs, it would be 0.83%.

I’ll close by once again alluding again to the Life of Brian. If you’re worried about loony parties like the People’s Front of Judea getting elected to Parliament—currently polling at 1%—don’t worry too much because before the election they will surely schism into the People’s Front of Judea and the Judean People’s front, and gain 0.5% each and no representation!

Thanks for listening.

I think my sense of humour was more of an asset than a liability on this occasion! My submission was well-received.

Those present and named were: Dr. Therese Arseneau, Jane Huria, Sir Hugh Williams, Robert Peden, John Spencer and Louise Vickerman.

Nephilim

Have you heard of ancient days
The mystery of a mighty race
Giants dwelt upon the earth
Lawless and obscene

The kindred
Men of great renown
Dark and grim
Spawn of fallen angels

The sons of God
Inflamed by lust and unnatural temptation
Legend has it Semjâzâ was the leader of the cursed

On human flesh fell their eyes
Lustful eyes
They viewed in great despise
Their own inhabitation

In their pride they bent the laws of all creation
Behold the scriptures state
These Angels still await the judgement of their God

Behold mystery
Behold mythology

O Raphael bind Azazel
O Gabriel proceed against the bastards

Far below the foundations of existence
In eternal chains they dwell
Angels await the fire
Rebels await the fire

Hell in the Book of Revelation


This is the twelfth in a 13-part series wherein I give you Hell, a little booklet by the inimitable Dr. Jeff Obadiah Simmonds.

One text which seems to speak of eternal torment is found in Revelation:

“If anyone worships the beast and his image and receives his mark on the forehead or on the hand, he too, will drink of the wine of God’s fury, which has been poured full strength into the cup of His wrath. They will be tormented with burning sulphur in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. And the smoke of their torment rises up for ever and ever. There is no rest day or night for those who worship the beast and his image… (Rev 14.9-11)

Revelation is, of course, a difficult book to interpret. It is full of apocalyptic images, most of which should not be taken literally. (See Obadiah’s Little Booklet #8 on the Book of Revelation.) One must wonder how literally we should take this burning sulphur (or “fire and brimstone”) when it is said to issue from horses’ mouths (Rev 9.17). This fire is symbolic—it is not literal. We may compare it to a similar image of God’s judgement: “they shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God” (Rev 14.10). Most Christians will recognise that the “wine” is symbolic—though many will still think that the fire of hell is literal.

The figurative—or poetic—nature of Revelation’s imagery should be clear when we read that “death” is thrown into the lake of fire (Rev 20.14). Obviously death cannot literally be thrown into hell—we are dealing with metaphor and symbolism. Death is symbolically destroyed.

How we are to understand the mark of the beast and the punishment of those who take it is highly debatable. Given the abuse which Revelation has been subjected to through excessively literalistic interpretations we should, at very least, proceed with caution when building doctrines on a passage in a book which is symbolic and figurative.

Revelation says that in the future there will be “no more death, neither sorrow, or crying, neither shall there be any more pain” (Rev 21.4).

We may understand that in heaven there will be no more suffering—but what of those whose loved ones are suffering in hell? When one of my children becomes sick, I am saddened. When my mother-in-law got cancer and died, we suffered, to some extent, alongside her. If Helen, my wife, were to be seriously injured in a car accident, I too would feel pain. If I were to go to heaven and find that some of those whom I love were suffering in an even more severe way, I would not be ecstatically happy—I would feel sorrow and pain. If everyone in heaven knows that people are being eternally tortured by God, including friends and family, how could heaven be a place of bliss? In what way would it be a place of “neither sorrow, nor crying, nor pain”?

And how could we feel love for a God who kept such loved ones eternally alive, merely to see them suffer? And how could such eternal suffering be justified if it is a judgement for deeds committed in ignorance in just a handful of years on earth?

Dualism

There are two kinds of people in the world, those who believe there are two kinds of people in the world and those who don’t.

Also known as Benchley’s Law of Distinction, this quote is due to Robert Benchley, US actor, author, and humourist (1889 – 1945). Benchley was a dualist.

Benchley was a dualist about kinds of people, but you can be a dualist about anything. “There are two kinds of …” Just fill in the dots.

Dualism usually refers to dualism in the philosophy of mind and it usually refers to substance dualism (also known as Cartesian dualism).

In philosophy of mind, dualism is [a view] about the relationship between mind and matter, which claims that mind and matter are two ontologically separate categories. In particular, mind-body dualism claims that neither the mind nor matter can be reduced to each other in any way, and thus is opposed to materialism in general, and reductive materialism in particular. Mind-body dualism can exist as substance dualism which claims that the mind and the body are composed of a distinct substance, and as property dualism which claims that there may not be a distinction in substance, but that mental and physical properties are still categorically distinct, and not reducible to each other. This type of dualism is sometimes referred to as “mind and body” and stands in contrast to philosophical monism, which views mind and matter as being ultimately the same kind of thing. …

If you think that mind can be “reduced” to matter (as I do) then you are not a dualist, you are a monist. If you think that matter is made of mind (as Tim does) then you are also not a dualist, you are a monist. Either way, you think that, ultimately, there is only one kind of stuff of which man’s mind is made.

Descartes, after whom Cartesian dualism is named, is famous for the phrase, ‘I think, therefore I am.’ There’s another phrase he used in Meditations on First Philosophy. It is ‘clear and distinct idea.’

Furthermore, my mind is me, for the following reason. I know that I exist and that nothing else belongs to my nature or essence except that I am a thinking thing; from this it follows that my essence consists solely in my being a thinking thing, even though there may be a body that is very closely joined to me. I have a clear and distinct idea of myself as something that thinks and isn’t extended, and one of body as something that is extended and does not think. So it is certain that I am really distinct from my body and can exist without it.

‘Clear and distinct’ is on a par with ‘self-evident’. An idea that’s clear and distinct to one person may be unclear and indistinct to another. And I don’t think much of Cartesian dualism. But I mention this phrase because it summarises two things (there are others) I think every philosopher should aspire to.

(1) Being clear.
(2) Distinguishing between distinct things.

This post is apropos of nothing in particular.

John 10:14-18

“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me—just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.” (NIV)

Little Church by blakemate11

We’re made out of meat

The human soul is no more and no less than a suite of software running on wetware known colloquially as “brains”. Like I said, we’re made of meat.

Or lego. Or matter. Or spirit. You see, it doesn’t matter what we’re made of. Because what we are is not what we’re made of. What we are is what we’re made into.

They’re made out of meat.

Meat?

Meat. They’re made out of meat.

Meat?

There’s no doubt about it. We picked several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.

That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the stars.

They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.

So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.

They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.

That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to believe in sentient meat.

I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they’re made out of meat.

Maybe they’re like the Orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence that goes through a meat stage.

Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take too long. Do you have any idea the life span of meat?

Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the Weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.

Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads like the Weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.

No brain?

Oh, there is a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat!

So… what does the thinking?

You’re not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat.

Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!

Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you getting the picture?

Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.

Finally, Yes. They are indeed made out meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.

So what does the meat have in mind?

First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the universe, contact other sentients, swap ideas and information. The usual.

We’re supposed to talk to meat?

That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. ‘Hello. Anyone out there? Anyone home?’ That sort of thing.

They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?

Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.

I thought you just told me they used radio.

They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.

Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you advise?

Officially or unofficially?

Both.

Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multi-beings in the quadrant, without prejudice, fear, or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.

I was hoping you would say that.

It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?

I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say?” `Hello, meat. How’s it going?’ But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?

Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.

So we just pretend there’s no one home in the universe.

That’s it.

Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you have probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?

They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.

A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s dream.

And we can mark this sector unoccupied.

Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others? Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?

Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen core cluster intelligence in a class nine star in G445 zone. Was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.

They always come around.

And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the universe would be if one were all alone.

They’re Made Out Of Meat
by Terry Bisson
From “Bears Discover Fire and Other Stories,” Copyright © 1994, Tor Books
Used By Permission

Give me Liberty, or give me Death!