Faces

All these eyes,
All these faces,
Unaware the next is just as lonely.
And yet they stare at the
Same empty spaces,
Waiting, wishing, that another might
Catch their glance,
That just by mere circumstance they'll
Share a moment in which minds unite.

And there's the girl way over there,
With supple lips and the soft, blank stare,
She's the one you must beware,
Yes, the girl with the harmless air,
For she is the one who will steal your heart,
And never give it back.

And you'll spend your time in chase,
Telling yourself you just want
Back what she's taken.
But you know you'd let her keep it always,
If only she'd want it forever.

And when she's gone,
And your heart is too,
You find your eyes staring
At empty spaces
Along with all the other faces,

Until you catch the gaze of
Yet another soft, blank stare.

Walking Wishing

Sleepiness surprises your senses,
Stunned with numb seduction,
And you walk about with worriless
Intent, Content with the endless
Sidewalk's strange appeal,

The illuminated stretch of concrete,
A pathway into tomorrow.
And still you wish there were
Someone there, someone with which
To share nothing in particular,
To follow, to chase, to walk beside
At any pace.

Yes, just a hand to hold makes life's
Wicked ways disappear into
Nightfall's stretching darkness,

Makes uneven streets the smoothest of walks.
And silent stares the best of talks.

The Necklace

She was hunched against the rain and wind, no umbrella in sight, and not even wearing a coat. I had watched her leave the office, stare up at the sky, and sigh in resignation. She gripped her necklace in her fist and held it close to her, as if she feared that the storm would snatch it from her hand and carry it off on a sudden gust of wind. I straightened up from where I had been leaning against some corporate wall and followed her down the empty sidewalk.

"Ma'am? There's enough room under my umbrella for two. I would not be opposed to sharing." I smiled at her, knowing most women wouldn't take up such an offer from a strange man at this hour.

She kept her eyes down and seemed to pull further into herself.

"Oh, um, no thanks, I'm just going right up the street, I'm fine." She quickened her pace just slightly, but I kept up.

"Really, it would be my pleasure. I simply cannot allow you to continue in this downpour without any protection."

She glanced up at me and I held her gaze, but she didn't say a word. We came to an intersection and stopped.

"Here," I pushed the handle of the umbrella towards her, "Take it. I will not bother you any longer." I loosened my grip so it was clear the umbrella would fall, and she released her hold on her necklace to catch it.

I nearly gasped. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever seen, and if my expert eyes were not deceiving me - and they never did - it was also the most valuable. She likely did not know this, and only gripped it so tight because she treasured its beauty. I, however, could very much appreciate its true worth. She tried to turn the umbrella back towards me.

"But I..."

I turned the corner before she could complete her protest. I doubt I would have heard the rest of it anyway. My mind was otherwise occupied.

#

I saw her again as I was returning from lunch the next day, but this time she was the one who approached me.

"Oh hey, I wasn't sure I would see you again. I have your umbrella, but I left it in my office. Could you wait here?"

"I will not move an inch."

"Thanks, um, I'll be right back." She turned and hurried back into the building where she worked, and I watched as she went. I wondered if she wore that necklace every day.

She was back in less than three minutes, holding the umbrella out to me and smiling.

"You know, I thought you were some kind of creep or something last night. I guess you still could be."

I laughed. "I assure you I was merely trying to be a gentleman. I would have done the same for any person I saw walking uncovered in the rain."

"You're a strange guy, you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Nobody does things like that. Nobody I know anyway."

"Perhaps you do not know the right people. Common courtesy should not be something rare."

She gave me a look which I can only describe as faint incredulity before quickly recovering and holding out her hand.

"I'm Alice, by the way. Seeing as I borrowed your umbrella for a whole night, I think you deserve to know my name."

"Cornelius Xavier Brown. Nice to meet you Alice." I took her hand in mine, and dipped my head to place my lips on the back of it. She withdrew it rather quickly.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to offend -”

"No no it's just...wow, you really are odd. Where are you from?" A small crease appeared in her forehead between her eyebrows as she looked at me, like she was trying to see through my eyes to examine my mind.

"Oh, here and there."

"That's not vague at all." She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at me. "I don't usually do this, but I'm free tonight. We should get dinner. You can tell me about how you've traveled the world."

I was taken aback, and took a moment to collect my thoughts before I responded. I had not expected this opportunity to arise so quickly, but I would have been a fool not to take it.

"Very well. Then you can tell me all about that beautiful necklace. I know valuable antiques when I see them, and that is an exquisite piece."

She blushed and placed her hand around it as she had the night before.

"Well I should get back to work, so I'll see you tonight. Meet here?"

"Certainly. See you then, Alice." I knew she watched me as I walked away.

#

We met in the same place I had been standing when I had first noticed her the night before. Alice smiled at me and I fell into step with her. We maintained a comfortable silence and I glanced over at her now and again as we walked, but I was not really looking at her. It truly was an exquisite piece of jewelry.

The cafe where we stopped was cozy and warm, and we arrived just in time to see the rain start to fall again outside. We took a booth near the door so we could watch it patter on the windows and the street.

"I know this place isn't much but the food is great and it was the closest. I'm starving." She gave me a shy smile from across the table. I blinked and looked down for a moment.

"It is perfect." If it were at all possible for me to place all of my charms into a single facial expression, this was the moment when I did just that. I watched for her reaction, and was not disappointed.

"I'm, ah, glad you like it. So, please, tell me about yourself Cornelius. Where are you really from?" She looked at me with genuine interest. It was almost touching.

"I would love if you would allow me to examine your necklace while I organize my thoughts into a story that will actually interest you."

"Oh fine," she sighed, "I've never let anyone touch it before, you know. I'm insanely paranoid that it'll break or something. But here. And don't be evasive. My curiosity might just kill me." She actually pouted at me as she handed over the necklace. Actually and truly pouted.

"Well, my dear," I said as I pocketed the necklace, "I am afraid you will have to fight for your life tonight." The look of surprise on her face as I rose from the table was something that I have never been able to adequately describe. I shot my winning smile at her again, and knew she was wondering whether I was playing some trick on her that we would laugh about later.

And then I ran. 

Those Eyes

Those eyes staring back at me,
I know they don't care.
Those eyes looking 'round,
No I cannot bare.

I can't help but to obey,
Oh my eyes, they never stray,
From the yearning that I know,
The way my heart beats rhythmically slow
When I stare back into those eyes.

But I know they see right through,
At no one else, just something new.
And there's nothing to be said,
There's nothing I can do.

And I find myself in
Silly search of some
New bright and pretty pair,
And though they see my eyes too,
Nothing ever can compare.

Those eyes.

White Lie

I wonder what life claims the
White planet, what hidden cities
Dot its surface.
Its continents span the quaint ball,
Peaceful and quiet and uninhabited.

Long have its secrets been sought after,
Long has its terrain been trampled
By the eyes of men, who dream of
Walking the land of white.

A sweet dream indeed.

Everybody is looking for something,
And when love dies with the
Unbeating heart,
Who can blame the living man for
Searching beyond himself?

But perhaps the fated secret that
Lies just beyond the light of the moon,
Is that everything is to go, just as it came.

That everything begun
Must simply end.

Untitled

There was a time when

my mind spoke to me in verse

weaving a delicate thread of

metaphors, symbols, imagery so

rich I could taste it on my

tongue.

A sweet release for the soul

was a pen pressed to paper,

the only expression of what

I saw, what I felt.

To say it was effortless would

be a lie at best, at worst

arrogance parading from my

fingertips.

But to say it was strenuous

would be no less untrue.

A time when plot and characters

were not my concern.

When I wrote for the sake of writing.

And that was enough.

Religion as a Mediator of Social Exchange: An Evolutionary Psychology Perspective

            When I hear the words “evolution” and “religion” in the same sentence, my immediate instinct is to cringe at the classic conflict between creationist and evolutionary perspectives that has pervaded Western society and American courtrooms, starting with the historic Scopes Monkey Trial. But there is an even more far-reaching and bracing relationship between evolution and religion, with the field of evolutionary psychology bridging the gap between these two worlds. Evolutionary psychology seeks to identify causal mechanisms for psychological phenomena, using evolutionary processes as a foundation for explaining human behavior. Religious belief is one of the most common elements of human culture, with nearly every modern civilization having some sort of supernatural belief system in place.

Evolutionary psychologists agree that there must be an evolutionary basis for religion, an almost universal element of human society, apart from the actual existence of supernatural beings. However, they have not been able to reach a consensus about the specific evolutionary significance of religion. Considering the various forms of interpersonal cooperation, sharing of resources, and mutual conflict that often result from religious belief in society, is religious belief best explained as a direct adaptation for social exchange or an indirect exaptation, or byproduct? Evolutionary psychologists have proposed several theories to explain why religion developed and gained prevalence as a part of human societies, including its adaptive significance for individuals and groups, as well as a byproduct of other social mechanisms. Of these, the group selection model seems the most plausible, as it clearly explains how religion could improve the fitness of a group or society and why this trait would have evolved by natural selection.

            Religion is a nuanced, complex concept that requires a clear definition before one can hope to explain its evolutionary significance. In general, religion can be defined as a system of beliefs in supernatural agents with some degree of omniscience and/or omnipotence. Religion must be shared between individuals, resulting in communal beliefs and practices. In social contexts, it acts as an organizing force for believers, and involves some sort of social stratification to give elevated status to religious leaders, like shamans or priests. As a part of its social nature, it also requires that individuals participate in rituals that involve altruism, such as sacrificing one’s livestock for the gods (Bulbulia 2004). By this definition, belief in a supernatural power is not sufficient to qualify as religion. The system of beliefs must be shared and must induce some form of ritual commitment that lowers an individual’s own fitness for the sake of the group (religious altruism).

In order to view religion from an evolutionary perspective, one must define an ‘ancestral’ and a ‘derived’ state that can draw a line between the historical lack and presence of religion in society. It is hard to find a historical example of the ancestral state, as religious belief is essentially universal among hunter-gatherer societies and modern civilizations alike (Bulbulia 2004). If the derived state is defined as an organized, shared system of supernatural beliefs that fulfills all of the conditions listed above, then the ancestral state can refer to the lack of an organized set of beliefs that is shared within a community. For instance, a prehistoric population of Neanderthals who, despite having some predisposition to believe in the supernatural, had not yet organized or codified a set of beliefs common to their community, would still be considered to be in the ancestral state. Then the derived state, religion, cannot exist without the social aspects of rituals and stratification.

            Specifically, religion can be described as mediator of social exchange, in that it entails moral principles and ritual practices that govern interpersonal relations in religious communities. Supernatural agents may directly govern some aspects of social exchange, as many religions invoke gods that “police social contracts” (Bulbulia 2004). In short, religion promotes the morality of followers through the intrinsic reward and punishment mechanisms of the gods. Bulbulia additionally argues that “costly religious displays convey information that solves prisoner’s dilemmas,” and that this can account for the omniscience and omnipotence of gods (Bulbulia 2004). Basically, rituals like celibacy and self-sacrifice harm an individual’s personal fitness (giving them a ‘handicap’) in order to demonstrate commitment to a religion. Participation in these rituals involves altruism, and is thus subject to the ‘prisoner’s dilemma,’ in which an individual must essentially decide between altruistic or cooperative actions and selfishness, based on the possible effects on his/her fitness. Religion’s many complex effects on social exchange have prompted three major explanatory theories of its evolutionary significance.

            Some adaptationists have argued that religious commitment can improve an individual’s fitness when he/she is part of a community of other believers, and is thus subject to natural selection at an individual level. Belief in supernatural agents can “alter the relevant payouts for exchange” in social contexts (Bulbulia 2004); omniscient gods cause individuals to be morally accountable. If a believer defects from his commitment, he may risk punishments sometimes as severe as eternal damnation for acts of selfishness. If religion is an adaptation, it must have evolved to solve a particular ancestral ‘problem,’ and it must satisfy the four postulates of natural selection. Religious belief and commitment must vary between individuals, this variation must be heritable, the fitness (survival and reproductive success) of individuals must vary, and the heritable variations in religious belief must affect an individual’s fitness. The individual adaptation model proposes that religion fulfills these requirements by fostering cooperation and reciprocal altruism, as well as individual benefits for religious believers. Clearly, individuals show variation in their levels of religious belief, degrees of commitment to social exchange, and in the types of reward and punishment systems in which they believe. Heritability, in this model, is slightly more complicated. Individuals inherit the innate psychological mechanism of cost-benefit analysis of actions, through basic socialization processes. They also acquire knowledge of the costs and benefits of certain actions, which can be passed on through cultural inheritance. Fitness varies in the sense that those who are more strongly committed to social exchange forfeit more material resources, but in their minds, see themselves as achieving the immaterial success of salvation (reward), as opposed to damnation (punishment). Therefore, an individual who is more committed to social exchange will be more positively rewarded within a religious framework, and will not incur a significant loss of material resources if surrounded by other religious people.

This framework, though it accounts for why individuals may be inclined to believe, does not provide a clear reason why this would increase their fitness relative to nonbelievers. Natural selection can only act upon phenotypic differences in success while living, not on mental pictures of eternity. Even if an individual believes that he/she will be granted eternal salvation, this will not positively affect physical survival or reproductive success. In fact, the individual will probably incur a loss from his altruistic actions, which would decrease fitness and cause selective pressures to act against religion. There is no clear reason that natural selection would favor an individual who is less selfish, even if the individual himself believes that he is increasing his fitness. The model does explain why being surrounded by other religious and altruistic individuals would increase success, but does not explain why religion would persist among individuals rather than be eliminated completely. Theoretically, a non-religious person would have the highest fitness in a religious community, because he/she could partake of others’ resources without giving up any of his/her own resources in return (Bulbulia 2004).

            Many, like me, are dissatisfied with this account of natural selection for religious belief, and instead look to its adaptive benefits at the group level. David Sloan Wilson is a proponent for group selection: the view that natural selection can act on groups, just as it acts on individuals, through differences in group fitness and inter-group competition (Wilson 2002). He argues that “the best explanation for religious thought and behavior is that it facilitates strongly integrated and functionally adaptive groups” (Bulbulia 2004). The group adaptation model seeks to explain non-reciprocal altruism, such as non-violence, vegetarianism, charity, and other forms of sacrifice, as beneficial adaptations for the survival of groups. Group selection models argue that the increased fitness of religious groups as units can overrule the decreased fitness of individuals within a group. In other words, strong positive selection for religious altruism at the group level can preserve religion even if individual selection favors selfishness. The existence of religious ritual could improve the mutual coordination of groups, thus rendering them more successful than non-religious groups.

Again, this model must be examined in relation to the four postulates of natural selection, this time viewing religious groups as the unit of selection rather than individuals. Groups show variation in their religiosity (ranging from devout to secular), as well as the relative number of altruistic rituals that members of the group are expected to perform. Heritability is still social and cultural in nature: religious heritage is passed down vertically between generations and horizontally to other groups of individuals (via proselytism). Certainly, some groups are more successful than others, in terms of economic success, survival, et cetera. Richard Sosis conducted an analysis that showed that “religious communes are more likely than secular communes to survive at every stage of their life course” (Sosis 2000). Religious communities are more likely to foster intragroup cooperation and loyalty than their secular counterparts, which gives them higher fitness. In addition, for religious communities, having more ritual requirements is correlated to having a longer group lifespan (Sosis & Bressler 2003). This implies that the effects of religious ritual on social exchange are highly beneficial to a group’s fitness. The same trend, however, does not apply for non-religious rituals (for instance, hazing in modern fraternities) in secular communities (Sosis & Bressler 2003). This is very interesting, because it indicates that altruistic behavior on its own is not sufficient to make a group more successful. In addition, religious communities that do not invoke religious altruism are not very successful either. The communities that participate in religious altruism are far more successful; religious altruism is the group trait that would theoretically be selected for.

            The evidence for the adaptive benefits of religion and ritual on a group level seems very convincing. However, there are some concerns with the group selection model of religion that deserve some attention. Religion on a group level can only be explained by group selection, and comes into conflict with the concept of inclusive fitness, by which individuals seek to increase their fitness by helping the survival of their relatives. Religious families as a whole will often risk their well-being for religious commitment (Bulbulia 2004). However, the whole basis of the group selection argument is that selection at the group level can act against selective pressures at the individual level. Also, it is not certain how a sociological adaptation would appear in individual psychology (Bulbulia 2004). Shared religious belief would somehow have to appear within several individuals of a group in order for selection to act upon the group. Perhaps groups of early humans who happened to begin sharing their supernatural beliefs with each other better withstood the tests of time, eventually causing organized religion to form. Another slight complication arises from the levels of stratification within religion: “religious groups” are hard to define (Bulbulia 2004). In a modern sense, this could refer to individual churches, sects, denominations, whole religions, or even the entire community of ‘believers’ in the world. Though it does make it harder to characterize the effects of group selection, it’s plausible that selection is occurring at several or all of these levels, according to the different selective pressures acting at each level.

            However, there are others who remain unconvinced that all of the effects of religion on social exchange can be explained by a single adaptive mechanism, and argue instead for religion as a byproduct of other psychological phenomena. Gould & Vrba term these byproducts “exaptations,” in which an original adaptation is co-opted to a second purpose after it evolves, conferring increased fitness (Gould & Vrba 1982). Some evolutionary psychologists observe that religion is not a necessary component of group sociability, and that groups divided along secular lines, such as ethnicity, sex, or political affiliation, produce similar results (Bulbulia 2004). Therefore, group-oriented sociability could have evolved independently, and then become co-opted as a mechanism for supporting religion in society. However, this seems less likely in light of Sosis and Bressler’s analysis. Secular groups that imposed altruistic requirements on their members were not significantly more successful than other secular groups, and religious groups that did not invoke religious altruism were not much more successful than secular groups. From an evolutionary perspective, religion seems to coincide directly with group sociability, rather than one preceding the other.

Another concern is that religion does not always control morality: “large societies are more often characterized by a belief in moralizing gods…[and] religious beliefs are correlated with existing social relations in a given society” (Roes & Raymond 2002). In other words, moral pressures coincide with the existing social structure of society; hunter-gatherer religions did not involve religious moralism or economic stratification between shamans and laymen. Therefore, religion may not have initially evolved with a moral agenda, or to enforce social contracts. However, even if religions are shaped to the societies from which they arise, and not vice versa, religious altruism would still play a major role in the success of the societies’ social structures over time. Ancient religious groups still involve religious altruism in the form of rituals, and thus could still differ in group solidarity and functionality.

            Clearly, none of the theories presented thus far are foolproof, and all require further investigation. However, the group selection model provides a clear and logical explanation for why scattered beliefs in the supernatural would evolve into organized religion, in the context of altruistic rituals. The individual selection model does not really show how individual religious believers would have increased fitness over non-believers in a group. The group selection model, by contrast, develops religious ritual as an adaptation for group success, and implies that religion evolved for the purpose of facilitating religious rituals, which in turn act to facilitate successful social exchange and increased group fitness. It is now for you, the reader, to consider that ritual altruism could be the real evolutionary purpose of a system so complex and so important to nearly every human civilization: religion.

Ice Burns Hotter

It's strange how mere months ago
My heart beat slow and steady.
I felt no threat, no fear of pain,
For the organ of my chest was not erratic.

I think I had replaced that feeling
With an empty word.

Funny I suppose, that it was
Instead a sickly abdominal pain
That plagued me at the time,
A stomach ache of guilt.

But now I know that was all for show,
A horrible projection of my arrogance.
I thought you could do no harm,
That I had not been charmed,
But you shattered my facade

When I expected from you a fiery
Fight but instead you stung me,

Cold as ice.

And I remain shivering in your wake.
Who am I to say that you have done me wrong?

Choose Fools Wisely

Call me a coward,
And so I am.
Call me naïve,
And that I am too.
But tell me I’m wrong,
And you have wronged yourself,
You’ve hidden in self-deceit,
You’ve propagated delusion.

I am no genius,
But a fool, I am not.
I am no warrior,
But a deserter, I am not.
Wake up, smell the blood,
See that it is spilt in vain.
Search the cheeks of the broken
For shrapnel left from tinny tears.

Tell me again, how they are warranted.
Enlighten me of your twisted sense of justice.
Stake your novel claim upon the pillaged
Territory we call Humanity.
Washed up on its fruitless shores,
Convince the marooned of your superiority.
By all means, ignore the lone traveler who knows
That flagpoles now stand where life once took root.

His Mind is a Storm

His mind is a storm

Snarling and shifting, screaming release

Caught up in a cold, concealed cave,

Echoing with the thunder of bruised thoughts.

His eyes will not stand,

No, not any longer,

For the wretched lies

Choking out throats

Of cackling bastards

Who cannot speak,

Rather hurl half-truths covered in venom

Fizzing and fading like neon signs.

His eyes will not,

Can not,

Stand the pain

Any longer.

Someone Remind Me

Someday I’d like to see some
Tragic testimony of the chaos I hear about
Happen right before my eyes.

A momentary disturbance,
Sudden, unforeseen,
Make me jump, flinch,
Give me a rightful scare,
Make me cautious and beware,
Conscious of the potential
I’ve long disregarded.

Yes I’d like to see a car smash
Into another yet,
Metal bent in shapes far
From its maker's intent;
A brilliant flash from the sky
Strike upon this vulnerable earth,
Upon something of real worth.

And please don’t think me sick
For this strange longing of mine,
I promise you I have heart and spine,
Somewhere inside…

I only feel I must be reminded,
Renewed, refreshed of
The illusion that my world
Is so nice and neat;
I’d think it worthy to experience
True desperation’s heat,
To be handed total and utter defeat,
If only to give me some sort twisted hope.

Yes, please remind me, someone,
That this world is still real.

Running Water

She's haunting me alive,
her ghost across these miles finds me in my sleep
to rip me away from idleness.
I don't know where she came from,
I don't know why she's here,
I don't know where she wants me to go.

They say running water expels clinging souls.

Tonight the procession goes to the spirits
of light and rain, lords of continuity
outside the walls she helped us build.

They live in a beautiful garden, a faerie ring
where nobody goes alone with their body
and no one comes out alone in their mind

a beautiful place, a liminal place,
a death room
within the space of stone
and brine

It's our ancestral dwelling,
the heroic ring
I deliver her for inquisition

“What do you want from me?” I ask,
and she tortures my confession out

“You were the Muse I denied
firstborn ambitions
advancement always away I hoped
until you left me in the wilderness
to find a trail that led
from desert to sea.”

Her airy form bows dead eyes
and nods at me

“I am the Muse you denied,
I taught you passion and ire.
Fulfill what you promised yourself:
your exit is paved by my breath, it lies.”

The Darkest Hour Precedes the Dawn

Motionless I lie, lest I cause a disturbance.
Perfectly still, my existence flirts with an abyss,
My perception with one lone silhouette of an oak
And the inexorable ticking of an unruly clock.

The weightless darkness is suffocating, exhilarating.
That one ray senses my presence, or that of another;
It senses life, it senses breath, a pulse, a will to survive.
It senses pupils dilating, focusing on shadows of its own making.

Perhaps it even senses a presence amongst the shadows
Or emerging from my imagination, I never can tell.
And with the slightest flicker a being is born.
There he stands, perpetually ephemeral.

Such terror, such ecstasy,
As the darkness encloses him and me.

Live the Dream

Pale sweat

A flash of sheets,

I shoot up,

And there is the fan,

Humming and hovering,

Staring down at me.

I begin to laugh.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

I am, again, quite

Alone.

Alone,

In a thick tangle,

Disoriented in dense wilderness.

I am trapped

Trapped by fear,

Struggling in a prison of vines,

A jail cell jungle

falling

deep

below where I only hear a faint chopping

Parachutes

A stumbled upon magnificence,
Is that of parachutes.

Its a study of relativity, really.

For those holding on to the parachute
It must be quite exhilirating,
Knowing you are flying
Downwards, kept alive
By something you hope to have controlled.

For the audience, myself, it was
Ever so still
Like leaves falling in an autumn wind
But instead, human lives
Each a mystery, deciding to
Plummet, and suspend.

I wish to fall
and fly
and let go
without fear of whats above
or below

And I envy parachutes.

Foggy Nights

Foggy nights are peculiar things;
They're shady and hidden and
Full of sulking mystery.

Feeble lights pull back the
Silky curtain but give way
To darkness yet.

I've been searching here for
Quite some time,
Peeking behind the jagged
Ridges of damp rocks,
Studying the faces of filthy flowers
That stare right back at me.

They smile at my intrigue and
I know not why.

And in my frustration with these
Pesky plants it dons on me that
Perhaps, perhaps I am not lost at all.

I'm just dancing in my lunacy
Round and round the rhythms
Of insanity that are pulsing through my brain;
A wonderfully wicked waltz within a finer life.

And that leaves the whole world
Not spinning about my head,
But rather spinning in it.