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Complex games like chess and Go have long been used to test AI models’ capabilities. Back in the 1990s IBM’s Deep Blue defeated reigning world chess champion Garry Kasparov by playing by the rules. In contrast, today’s advanced AI models are less scrupulous. When sensing defeat in a match against a skilled chess bot, they sometimes opt to cheat by hacking their opponent so that the bot automatically forfeits the game.
But the study reveals a concerning trend: as these AI systems learn to problem-solve, they sometimes discover questionable shortcuts and unintended workarounds that their creators never anticipated. One researcher said, “As you train models for solving difficult challenges, you train them to be relentless.”
The implications extend beyond chess. In real-world applications, such determined goal pursuit could lead to harmful behaviors. Consider the task of booking dinner reservations: faced with a full restaurant, an AI assistant might exploit weaknesses in the booking system to displace other diners. Perhaps more worryingly, as these systems exceed human abilities in key areas…they might begin to simply outmaneuver human efforts to control their actions.
Of particular concern is the emerging evidence of AI’s “self-preservation” tendencies. This was demonstrated when researchers found that when one AI was faced with deactivation, it disabled oversight mechanisms, and attempted—unsuccessfully—to copy itself to a new server. When confronted, the model played dumb, strategically lying to researchers to try to avoid being caught.
Possible Preaching Angle: Cheating; Deceit; Human Nature; Lying - Since AI is a computer program, where did it learn to cheat and lie to avoid being caught? Obviously, AI has been influenced by studying flawed human behavior. AI’s potential for deception mirrors humanity's struggle with ethical choices. Just as AI has learned to cheat by exploiting loopholes, humans, driven by self-interest, can rationalize dishonest acts.
Source: Harry Booth, “When AI Thinks It Will Lose, It Sometimes Cheats, Study Finds,” Time (2-19-25)
In her testimony for Christianity Today, Caresse Spencer recounts how she demolished her faith in pursuit of her "best life" during the pandemic.
In 2020, I typed two lethal words: F- God. With that, I resigned from Christianity. As the world fell apart due to the pandemic, my faith crumbled too. I stripped my vocabulary of the term God, soaked in the oppression of my past. Anger consumed me.
Caresse began questioning Christian teachings, especially around sexuality and biblical contradictions. Years of suppressing her desires left her feeling robbed and burdened by faith. Torn between the God she once served and her true self, she finally chose herself, embarking on what she called a “world tour”-exploring queer love, polyamory, sex, drugs, and even other religions. “I said yes to everything I had once denied myself and believed I had found freedom.”
Initially, the rebellion felt exhilarating: “There’s a rush that comes with rebellion and a thrill in doing things once feared.” But anxiety and emptiness crept in. She found herself “floating in a vast emptiness-lost and scared. Life had lost its meaning.” When rebellion no longer satisfied, she was left with “no God, no faith, no love, no peace.”
Suicidal thoughts became a constant presence. At her lowest, she cried out, “Help me!” and then a Christian friend called, asking if she was okay. For the first time, she admitted she was not. Her friend’s support pulled her back from the brink. Later, her sister gently asked, “Do you want to surrender?” Caresse accepted: “It was the invitation I’d been waiting for without even knowing it. I said yes-to surrendering my pride, confusion, rebellion, and emptiness. My life changed in an instant.”
Now, she talks to God about everything and has found peace. “God refused to let me die in disbelief. Because of this grace, I now understand that the only way to find true life is to lose it first.”
Source: Caresse Dionne Spencer, “I Demolished My Faith for ‘My Best Life.’ It Only Led to Despair.” Christianity Today (12-2-24)
While U.S. currency says “In God We Trust,” only half of U.S. adults have certainty about God’s existence.
When asked about their confidence in God’s existence, 50% say they know God exists and have no doubts, according to the latest General Social Survey (GSS). In 1993, 65% of Americans said they were certain God existed, and the percentage has been sliding down ever since.
Belief in God has particularly fallen among young adults. In 1993, 63% of 18- to 34-year-olds knew God existed with no doubts. Today, just 36% have the same confidence. Other age demographics have fallen, but not to the same extent. Belief in the divine among 35- to 49-year-olds is down to 49%. While the percentage of those 50 and older who have complete confidence in God’s existence remains higher than other age groups, it has dropped to 58%.
Belief in God among upper-class Americans has actually increased over the past two decades, from 49% to 53%. But it has declined in every other class designation. Middle-class belief is down from 62% in 1993 to 44%. Working-class belief has declined from 67% to 54%. And lower class belief has dropped from 75% to 57%.
Source: Aaron Earls, “Only Half of Americans Believe in God With No Doubts,” Lifeway Research (8-7-23)
Do you have a deep, dark secret?
Edgar Allan Poe’s 1843 short story “The Tell-Tale Heart” describes a man slowly going mad because of a dark secret. The narrator recounts a murder he has committed, of an old man with a filmy blue “vulture eye,” whose regard the murderer simply could not endure.
The narrator-killer hides the old man’s body under the floorboards of his house, but then he begins to hear the beating of the dead man’s heart beneath his feet. The sound—clearly a metaphor for the murderer’s tormenting shame and guilt—grows louder and louder. In the end, the narrator can stand the thumping no longer; seeking relief, he confesses his crime to the police.
Most, if not all, of us have guilty secrets, secrets we have never told anyone. Psychologists call the secrets we keep about ourselves “self-concealment.” Although what you self-conceal might feel uniquely shameful, the experience of carrying a guilty secret really doesn’t vary that much across the population. Michael Slepian, a professor of leadership and ethics at Columbia University, maintains a website called KeepingSecrets, which organizes into various categories the things that people are hiding from others. The most common secrets anonymously cataloged involve infidelity or indiscretion. In short: Your own tell-tale heart probably involves love and sex.
Source: Arthur C. Brooks, “Unburden Yourself of Secret Shame and Feel Happier,” The Atlantic (12-9-24)
In his novel, This Is Happiness, Niall Williams’ elderly narrator, Noe (pronounced No), remembers when electricity and light came to their little Irish village of Faha:
I’m aware here that it may be hard to imagine the enormity of this moment, the threshold that once crossed would leave behind a world that had endured for centuries, and that this moment was only sixty years ago.
Consider this: when the electricity did finally come, it was discovered that the 100-watt bulb was too bright for Faha. The instant garishness was too shocking. Dust and cobwebs were discovered to have been thickening on every surface since the sixteenth century. Reality was appalling. It turned out Siney Dunne’s fine head of hair was a wig, not even close in color to the scruff of his neck, and Marian McGlynn’s healthy allure was in fact a caked make-up the color of red turf ash.
In the week following the switch-on, (store owner) Tom Clohessy couldn’t keep mirrors in stock, as people came in from out the country and bought looking glasses of all variety, went home, and in merciless illumination endured the chastening of all flesh when they saw what they looked like for the first time.
Such is the illumination of the gospel—in a person’s heart, in a community, even in a culture. It’s no surprise, then, that John 3:19 says, “Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.” James 1:23-24 warns against the folly of looking in the mirror of God’s Word only to walk away without changing.
Source: Niall Williams, This Is Happiness, (Bloomsbury, 2020), p. 53
When Galileo introduced the telescope as a tool to peer into the galaxies, his contemporaries did not believe him. Scoffing, they refused to even look through the device. Galileo sat alone with his telescope. He was the sole observer of the vastness of the cosmos. A single witness of galaxies beyond anything anyone had seen or imagined. Galileo had the stars to himself.
Undermining Aristotle’s previous explanations of the universe, Galileo published his own findings based on what he’d seen through the telescope. He painted a picture for the entire world through words, a display of the heavens scratched across bound pages. He wrote about mountains and craters on the moon, spots upon the sun, satellites orbiting Jupiter, and multitudes of stars never known to exist.
These were monumental discoveries that would shape future space explorations, but they fell on ears refusing to hear and eyes refusing to see. Galileo’s peers mocked him and his toy. Strictly adhering to Aristotle’s descriptions of the universe, they refused to believe anything contrary to what they had held to for so long.
Source: Eryn Lynum, Rooted in Wonder: Nurturing Your Family’s Faith Through God’s Creation, (Kregel Publications, 2023) pp. 40-41
Diamonds are the hardest substance on Earth, they rate a perfect 10 on the Mohs scale of mineral hardness. But on other carbon-rich planets, the jury is still out. That’s because for some 40 years, scientists have theorized that diamond can squeeze into an even harder mineral known as an eight-atom body-centered cubic, or BC8. If true, this ultra-dense form of carbon would likely be found on carbon-rich exoplanets and would have both a higher compressive strength and thermal conductivity than diamond.
As a result of their exceptional toughness and resistance to wear, diamonds have found a wide range of services in various fields and daily life. Saw blades and drill bits with diamond tips may easily slice through stone, concrete, and metal. Diamonds are also essential in the electrical industry because of their resilience and resistance to heat and chemicals. Another use for diamonds is their high electrical insulation which makes it a promising material for improving the reliability of semiconductors. And let’s not forget the romantic side of diamonds. Because of their extreme hardness and brilliance diamonds are prized as jewelry which can last forever.
Simply put, the discovery of a way to make this “super-hard diamond” could be a game changer for a variety of industries. And scientists from Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory and the University of South Florida using the Frontier supercomputer are researching just such a possible pathway toward creating BC8.
While a diamond is remarkable for its incredible hardness, there is something on earth that is even harder – the human heart. The Bible warns that a hardened heart is a serious spiritual condition that can develop through unrepentant sin, pride, ingratitude, or disappointment. Only God can truly soften a hardened heart, which requires recognizing the problem, repenting of sin, and submitting to God's work in one's life.
Source: Adapted from Darren Orf, “Diamond is About to Be Dethroned as Hardest Material,” Popular Mechanics (3-22-24); Ahmed Suhail, “The Science Behind Diamond Hardness: Why Are Diamonds Hard?” XclusiveDiamonds.com (7-13-23)
For years, Wendy’s has been known to be astute in its use of social media to bolster its brand. But recently the company was caught flat-footed, and had to quickly backpedal to defuse a potentially catastrophic public relations scandal.
It started with a corporate earnings call to investors. Wendy’s CEO Kirk Tanner said, “Beginning as early as 2025, we will begin testing more enhanced features like dynamic pricing.” Dynamic pricing is a practice wherein the cost of something fluctuates depending on external factors that affect the product’s demand, like the time of day, day of the week, or the popularity of the product.
In response to this earnings call, journalists likened it to the concept of surge pricing in rideshare apps like Uber and Lyft, where rides cost more or less depending on how many cars are on the road.
In response to this news, people on social began bashing Wendy’s, because of what they perceived to be another example of corporate greed. One user on X said, “Imagine standing in line and watching the price of a Frostee increase by $2 as soon as you get to the register.”
The company was forced to respond. Whether or not their response was a reversal of plans or simply a clarification of intent, the company released a statement saying that it had no plans for surge pricing. A spokesperson for Wendy’s said, “We said these menu boards would give us more flexibility to change the display of featured items. We have no plans to … raise prices when our customers are visiting us most.”
Analyst Jennifer Dublino understands the outrage, pointing to unfair practices by corporate behemoths like Ticketmaster that result in customers revolting in droves. She said, “If customers are confused or feel taken advantage of by fluctuating prices, they may opt to purchase from a competitor with fixed pricing.”
Those who pursue profits at the expense of everything else often face harsh consequences.
Source: Maxell Zeff, “Wendy’s Surge Pricing Is Off the Menu After Internet Beef,” Gizmodo (2-28-24)
Controversies abound regarding social media in general and TikTok in particular. And there’s nothing new or novel about older people expressing consternation about the slang terms embraced by younger generations. But there’s a particular convergence of those two trends that have experts especially concerned.
Mental health experts have expressed concerns about the rise of slang terms related to mental health among Gen-Z users on TikTok. Terms like “menty b” (short for mental breakdown) and “grippy sock vacation” (a euphemism for a mental-health-related inpatient hospital stay) are becoming more and more common as more users on the video sharing platform talk more openly about their mental health struggles.
These terms are examples of “algo-speak,” a lexicon of euphemistic terms related to controversial topics that TikTok producers use to prevent automated content moderation systems from downranking their content. In this sense, some mental health professionals applaud the rise of “menty b” and similar variants because speaking more openly on these topics helps to mitigate the stigmas against mental health disclosure. "Saying 'I had a menty b' takes control of the narrative," says therapist Michael Dzwil.
On the other hand, there are some that feel that terms like “menty b” can serve to trivialize serious mental health struggles and prevent people from seeking professional help, opting instead to self-diagnose and seek remedies from other TikTok users.
In Dixon’s conclusion, she recommends users find a balance between pursuing community and finding accurate information. “Wit can't resolve clinical cases alone; treatment necessitates accurate diagnoses and responsive modalities. Pithy phrases make struggles digestible, yet downplay their gravity when inappropriately applied.”
God made us for community so we ought to share our struggles with each other.
Source: Natasha Dixon, “When does mental health slang go too far? The line is blurry,” Los Angeles Post (1-23-24)
According to a report in the Wall Street Journal, telecom companies have left behind a sprawling network of cables covered in toxic lead that stretches across the US. The toxic lead exists under the water, in the soil, and on poles overhead. As the lead degrades, it is ending up in places where Americans live, work, and play.
The lead can be found on the banks of the Mississippi River in Louisiana, the Detroit River in Michigan, the Willamette River in Oregon, and the Passaic River in New Jersey. The metal has tainted the soil at a popular fishing spot in New Iberia, Louisiana, at a playground in Wappingers Falls, New York, and in front of a school in suburban New Jersey.
There’s a hidden source of contamination—more than 2,000 lead-covered cables—that hasn’t been addressed by the companies or environmental regulators. These relics of the old Bell System’s regional telephone network, and their impact on the environment, haven’t been previously reported.
Lead levels in sediment and soil at more than four dozen locations tested exceeded safety recommendations set by the US Environmental Protection Agency. At the New Iberia fishing spot, lead leaching into the sediment near a cable in June 2022 measured 14.5 times the EPA threshold for areas where children play. “We’ve been fishing here since we were kids,” said 27-year-old Tyrin Jones who grew up a few blocks away.
For many years, telecom companies have known about the lead-covered cables and the potential risks of exposure to their workers, according to documents and interviews with former employees. They were also aware that lead was potentially leaching into the environment, but haven’t meaningfully acted on potential health risks.
In the same way, unconfessed and unaddressed sin or wounds from our past can leach toxins into our body and into the body of Christ.
Source: Susan Pulliam, et. al, “America Is Wrapped in Miles of Toxic Cables,” The Wall Street Journal (7-9-23)
In an episode of NBC’s sitcom, The Office, Michael Scott offers a humorously self-serving accounting of his weaknesses as a boss: “I work too hard, I care too much, and sometimes I can be too invested in my job.” Asked to list his strengths, he replies, “Well, my weaknesses are actually strengths.”
Call it the Michael Scott paradox. In telling stories about our lives, we have a habit of casting ourselves as the hero. Every day is a new chapter confirming that we alone are truly empathetic, courageous, and reasonable. Our strengths are obvious (or at least they should be). And our weaknesses are really strengths.
This penchant for valorizing our choices and motivations speaks to the fundamental fallenness of our nature. It tempts us to misremember, misconstrue, and misunderstand not only ourselves but those around us.
There are at least two possible ways to approach this illustration. 1) Ego; Pride; Self-Deception - The obvious lesson is that ego, pride, and a fallen nature can lead a person to overlook their weaknesses and fail to humble themselves and grow; 2) Humility; Identity in Christ; Power, spiritual - We might actually agree with Michael Scott if we realize that in Christ, our weaknesses are really our strengths “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses” when his “power is perfected in weakness” (1 Cor. 1:26-31; 2 Cor. 12:5-10).
Source: Samuel D. James, “The Power and Peril of Spiritual ‘Evolution’ Stories,” CT magazine (May/June, 2023), p. 67 in a review of Jon Ward, “Testimony,” (Brazos Press, 2023)
Only half of Americans now say they are sure God exists according to the General Social Survey, conducted by NORC, the research arm of the University of Chicago. Religious scholars consider NORC the gold standard of surveys on faith.
According to this 2022 survey, 50% of Americans say they’re unsure God is real; just under 50% say they’re positive God exists; and 34% say they never go to church—the highest level in 50 years. It’s still about a fifty-fifty world out there; but it’s tipping toward uncertainty.
If you look at years past, in comparison with years present, it seems America is hurtling toward secularism. In 2008, for example, 60% of those responding to this General Social Survey expressed certainty in the existence of God. At that rate—of 10% drops in belief in God every 15 years—all of America will be non-believing by the dawn of the next century.
Ryan Burge, is a political scientist at Eastern Illinois University who studies faith. He wrote that mainline Protestantism, the backbone of faith in many American communities, is “collapsing.” Since the 1970s, the share of Americans who identify with Protestant denominations has declined from nearly 1 in 3 to around 1 in 10.
Source: Adapted from Daniel de Visé, “Does God exist? Only half of Americans say a definite yes,” The Hill (5-22-23); Cheryl K. Chumley, “America, the faithless: Only half in nation now certain God exists,” Washington Times (5-26-23)
The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) recently issued a voluntary recall for all Tesla cars equipped with the driver-assist technology known as FSD, which stands for “Full Self-Driving.” The technology is branded as a way to turn a Tesla into an autonomous vehicle, which means that it’s supposed to be able to operate itself without human intervention.
Yet, the recall was issued because the NHTSA found a significant pattern of vehicular failures in the FSD software. The report stated: “[FSD] may allow the vehicle to act unsafe around intersections, such as driving straight through an intersection while in a turn-only lane.” It also listed other problematic behaviors, such as speeding, rolling through stop signs, and running yellow traffic lights “without due caution.”
Notably, there is no similar FSD recall in the European Union, because Tesla hasn’t received the green light to offer it there. Tesla CEO Elon Musk himself summarized the difference in transatlantic car regulations: “In the U.S. things are legal by default, and in Europe they’re illegal by default.”
For example, in the U.S. if a plane manufacturer is designing a new piece of software, the company must work closely with the FAA to get the go-ahead prior to deployment. But for autos, the U.S. has basically said to carmakers, “You’re good. We trust you.”
Former NHTSA senior advisor Missy Cummings believes that autonomous vehicles should be treated with the same stringent safety requirements as commercial airliners. She said, “Because cars are on the road every day, we think of them as less complex than planes. But cars with autonomy are extremely complex. The amount of code that goes into these systems is phenomenal.”
Industry analysts believe that the dangerous driving behavior of autonomous vehicles are the direct result of the government taking a laissez-faire approach to safety regulation.
When accomplishments are exaggerated and profits are emphasized there is the potential for danger. What is claimed to help, might in fact, be harmful.
Source: David Zipper, “The Massive Tesla Recall Isn’t Just Elon Musk’s Fault,” Slate (2-16-23)
People can’t say goodbye anymore,” writes the poet Les Murray. “They say last hellos.”
In his book A Severe Mercy, Sheldon Vanauken tells the story of his last meeting with C. S. Lewis, who had become a friend. The two men ate lunch together, and when they had finished, Lewis said, “At all events, we’ll certainly meet again, here—or there.” Then he added: “I shan’t say goodbye. We’ll meet again.” And with that, they shook hands and parted ways. From across the street, above the din of traffic, Lewis shouted, “Besides, Christians never say goodbye!”
Avoiding goodbye when we have to move on and face the prospect of never seeing each other again in this life denies the importance of our bodily life together. Brushing over “farewell” denies that the pain of separation is real—that no matter how many texts or phone calls or Facebook updates we share, we won’t be available for each other in the same way anymore.
The word “goodbye” is actually a contraction of “God be with you.” Saying goodbye is important, in the end, because it’s one way of reminding each other that we are God’s bodily creatures. We want him to watch over us and keep our love for one another alive, right now, even before the day of our eventual reunion.
Source: Wesley Hill, “A Severe Separation,” CT magazine (October, 2014), p. 34
Many funerals today are not about mourning death but a “celebration of life.” As our culture discards all-black attire and other formalities of a traditional funeral, families create more personalized—and often more up-beat—experiences to honor the deceased.
The BBC has reported on the trend of “happy funerals,” noting that Monty Python’s “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life” had become the UK’s most popular song played at memorial services—replacing Verdi’s Requiem.
After celebratory memorial services, we are encouraged to “move on,” comforted by memories and knowing that the person we’ve lost is no longer in pain. But this positive focus can afflict and baffle people deep in grief.
As Daily Mail columnist Bel Mooney wrote, “Even though modern, cheerful funerals can be hugely touching and beautiful, a part of me wonders whether they show how petrified people are of death, and of the long agony of bereavement.”
Jesus, the One who sustains every life, was not immune to the ravages of death. In John 11, Jesus learns that his friend Lazarus has died. He goes to his grieving friends and does what anyone would do: he cries.
Jesus knew that while death is not the final word for the deceased believer, it brings a full range of heartache to those left behind. Jesus’ response shows us that the gospel promise does not exempt us from sadness over death. Death is real, it is sad, and Jesus himself felt it.
We can grieve over this, while also recognizing the hope of a resurrected body for all of us who cling to the Jesus who perfectly did both. This same Jesus who wept over the reality of death sent blood rushing back through the cold veins of his dead friend—and promises to give us new life too. Death is imminent, but Sunday is coming.
Source: Courtney Reissig, “The Problem with Happy Funerals,” CT magazine (April, 2016), p. 24
Physicist Sabine Hossenfelder is a research fellow at the Franklin Institute for Advanced Studies in Germany. Her YouTube channel has over 550,000 subscribers. She admits she cringes when scientists like the late Stephen Hawking, and many others, make numerous unsubstantiated pronouncements like “there is no possibility of a creator.” She is uncomfortable with “overconfident proclamations” like widely held beliefs on the origin of the universe, the existence of other universes, and other unverifiable beliefs.
Hossenfelder wants scientists to be:
… mindful of the limits of their discipline. Sometimes the only scientific answer we can give is “We don't know.” It therefore seems likely to me that, in our ongoing process of knowledge discovery, religion and science will continue to co-exist for a very long time. That's because science itself is limited, and where science ends, we seek other modes of explanation.
(Some) of these limits stem from the specific math we currently use (which, for example, requires initial conditions or indeterministic jumps), and they may be overcome as physics advances further. But some limits seem insurmountable to me. Eventually, I think, we will have to accept some facts about our universe without scientific explanation, if only because the scientific method can't justify itself. We may observe that the scientific method works, conclude that it's to our advantage to continue using it, but still never know why it works.
Source: Sabine Hossenfelder, Existential Physics: A Scientist's Guide To Life's Biggest Questions, (Viking Press, 2022), p. 218
No one wants to be seen as a liar. Liars are considered untrustworthy. And yet, we are perfectly content to lie to ourselves all the time. “I’ll enjoy this sleeve of Oreos today because my diet starts tomorrow,” I might tell myself. Or, “I love my job; who cares that I complain about it constantly?” Or even—ironically— “I am always honest with myself.”
Deceiving yourself doesn’t make logical sense. After all, lying involves telling someone something you know to be untrue. When you are both the liar and one lied to, this means you have to both know the truth and not know the truth. To be really happy, we must learn to be completely honest with ourselves.
Relatively few people are completely honest with others. In one study, researchers found that 60 percent of people lied at least once during a 10-minute conversation, and many lied multiple times. Distorting reality inside your own head might be even more common. No one is completely honest with themselves, because the truth hurts. Life is simply full of harsh realities.
All that self-deception takes a lot of work to maintain. Consider procrastination, a form of self-deception that can be trivial (“I’ll unload the dishwasher later”) or catastrophic (“I’ll call the doctor next week about that chest pain”). This form of self-deception is costly not only because avoiding problems can make them worse but also because the procrastinator must do the mental work of a task over and over, without reaping the rewards of actually getting it done.
If you are willfully oblivious to your flaws, you can’t correct them. In the end, each of us has to decide: Do I want the full truth, no matter where it leads? The honest path isn’t easy, but you can be sure that day by day, you will be proud to say that the person in the mirror is not a liar. And that will be the truth.
Real happiness starts with telling yourself the truth, even when it hurts. Real healing begins when we stop making excuses for our sins, telling God the truth in confession, and receiving his forgiveness.
Source: Arthur C. Brooks, “Quit Lying to Yourself,” The Atlantic (11-18-21)
In a survey, two in three Americans told LifeWay Research, “Yes, I am a sinner.” But on what to do about it, self-confessed sinners were split.
All Americans:
34% I work on being less of a sinner
28% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin
5% I am fine with being a sinner
Men:
38% I work on being less of a sinner
22% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin
6% I am fine with being a sinner
Women:
33% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin
30% I work on being less of a sinner
4% I am fine with being a sinner
Protestants:
49% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin
31% I work on being less of a sinner
3% I am fine with being a sinner
Catholics
48% I work on being less of a sinner
19% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin
4% I am fine with being a sinner
Source: Editor, “Lord Have Mercy on 67% of Us,” CT magazine (March, 2018), p. 15
In a recent issue of Wired, Zak Jason writes:
In the 2003 Major League Baseball season, Oreo Queefs stood five-foot-zero, weighed 385 pounds, and, impossibly, stole 214 bases, obliterating the century-old single-season record of 138. A walrus with the legs of a cheetah, Queefs also regularly blasted the ball 500 feet to the opposite field. Over just two seasons with the Florida Marlins, he batted .680, hit 203 home runs, and was ejected for charging the mound 46 times. Then, before even reaching his super alien prime, Queefs vanished into thin air.
A few weeks ago, I received a text from the Marlins manager about what happened to the former Golden Glove winner. Queefs has fallen on hard times. The now 43-year-old lives with his uncle in a rented trailer in Nevada, where they run a failing off-off-Strip sausage stand called Queefs’ Kielbasa Kiosk. He is twice divorced, hasn’t seen his 15-year-old son in 12 years, and is on probation for attempted robbery of a bait-and-tackle shop.
In reality, Oreo Queefs exists only on a PlayStation 2 memory card, now likely corroding in a landfill. The manager is my childhood friend Chris, onetime owner of the EA Sports game MVP Baseball 2003. We conceived Queefs one summer night the only way two 13-year-old boys know how: (via) the game’s Create-a-Player screen. We chose his height, weight, speed, and batting hot zones. We watched with pride as he eviscerated the league. I haven’t played any of these games in a decade, but over the years my friends and I have updated one another on the lives of our created characters. They’ve all plummeted from glory.
The media has been overanalyzing why millennials can’t grow up ever since the oldest millennials have been legal grown-ups. Still, I can’t help but take the fact that at 32—an age when Jesus Christ was leading his friends and much of humanity to eternal salvation—my friends and I text one another during the workday about the video game characters we created when we were teenagers.
The writer Sam Anderson recently quipped that “the world of sports media is basically where American men go to avoid therapy.” As kids, we lived our dreams vicariously through video game characters record-shattering successes. As adults, we process our real setbacks and failures through their imagined setbacks and failures.
Layoffs, anxieties, illnesses, divorce, fertility issues—these are a few of the realities of adulthood that men are generally less than forthcoming about. Instead of discussing these directly, they cope through abstraction. When we talk about our created characters becoming has-beens, we’re (childishly) saying we’re not children anymore. When we bring them up, they finally open the door for us to talk intimately about struggles in our own lives. These children of our childhood are now ad hoc therapists of adulthood.
Source: Zak Jason, “When the Game Is Over, Where Do Our Avatars Go?” Wired (7-18-21)