God vs. the Loch Ness Monster

The chaps over at The Philos­phers Mag­a­zine have some inter­est­ing things to say on the sub­ject of Nessy and God which I dis­agree with.
Either there is a seri­ous flaw in their log­ic. Or they are unable to fol­low the log­ic of my belief sys­tem. I’m not sure which.
But appar­ent­ly from all log­ic points of view God and the Loch Ness Mon­ster are equals. Strange then that I’ve not hear the the­o­ry of Nessy cre­at­ing the uni­verse one after­noon.
Nessy

If, despite years of try­ing, no strong evi­dence or argu­ment has been pre­sent­ed to show that there is a Loch Ness mon­ster, it is ratio­nal to believe that such a mon­ster does not exist.

God

As long as there are no com­pelling argu­ments or evi­dence that show that God does not exist, athe­ism is a mat­ter of faith, not ratio­nal­i­ty.

The big prob­lem I have with this is the nature of God and the nature of Nessy.
IF Nessy does indeed exist, it is agreed that she is some sort of giant lizard type crea­ture, that is lim­it­ed by the same rules of nature that we (humans) are, log­ic, chem­istry, physics, the lot. There­fore we must be able to find her even­tu­al­ly.
IF God does indeed exist, it is agreed that she is not a giant lizard type crea­ture, and is not lim­it­ed by any laws of the uni­verse that we know of or any of the laws of the uni­verse that we haven’t yet dis­cov­ered. There­fore we may nev­er be able to find her, not mat­ter how hard we look.

I live!

Accord­ing to Stay­ing Alive I did sur­vive via psy­cho­log­i­cal reduc­tion­ism.
It does­n’t sur­prise me at all that this is the answer I got. My thoughts on the mat­ter are sim­ple… how can I be con­sid­ered still alive if I don’t remem­ber it. Sure this gets blur­ry when loss of mem­o­ry is unavoid­able, but what ya gonna do?

My Rings

Almost all of the time, I wear two rings. I know what your think­ing, but its noth­ing like that, both are clear­ly vis­i­ble when I’m ful­ly clothed.
earring (9k image)One of these rings is an ear ring. I got my left ear pierced some time ago now, I’m not sure exact­ly when it hap­pened, about 8 years ago. I do remem­ber think­ing “what, is that it, I’ve have mos­qui­to bites worse than that”. This sim­ple pierc­ing seemed to be a cause of some con­cern to my close friends that the time, even though my fam­i­ly my no big deal out of it at all (my dad even has his ear pierced now). My friends grilled with many ques­tions, per­haps this was them sim­ply want­i­ng to under­stand, per­haps it was them express­ing their dis­ap­proval. One of them even tried it him­self for a while (but that’s his sto­ry). It’s my pierc­ing, it is a part of me (or rather an absence of me I sup­pose). I’ve worn dif­fer­ent things in it, most­ly studs or sim­ple sil­ver rings. Cur­rent­ly and for the past two years I’ve been wear­ing a bent bar­bell and the only time I’ve actu­al­ly tak­en that out was when I stayed in hos­pi­tal last year. I like the sil­ver bent bar­bell and will prob­a­bly con­tin­ue to where it until I find some­thing that I like even more. There is a ten­den­cy to push this bound­ary and with each new piece of jew­el­ry choose some­thing more out­ra­geous.
claddagh (9k image)The oth­er ring is a lot new­er, its impor­tance to me is much eas­i­er to put into words. It is a sil­ver Claddagh ring and is cur­rent­ly worn on my right ring fin­ger with the crown towards my body (oh you bet­ter believe that means some­thing but I’m not telling you unless you ask). It is the same ring design that Angel gave Buffy, but that is not why I wear it, actu­al­ly that was a rea­son that I did­n’t get one soon­er but in the end I thought ‘fuck it’. It gives me a strange link to a her­itage I like to think I have but don’t real­ly (there is strong Irish blood in the veins, but I’m not an Irish man, maybe one day I will be but not at the moment). It is a ring of love, friend­ship and loy­al­ty. Most­ly I take it off when going to bed, and I don’t wear it at the gym, but that is just for con­vince.
These two sil­ver rings are an impor­tant expres­sion of my iden­ti­ty. With­out I feel a bit naked.