A DUTCHWAY PUBLICATION
NEW AGERS: THE EPITOME OF INTELLECTUAL LAZINESS

Lillian Hellman once said that cynicism is just another way of telling the truth. If that's the case then I must be the most truthful person alive. If you want to know why, then read on. I also give the recount of this incident

Health food makes me sick. Calvin Trillin

I once read a book entitled Pseudoscience and the Paranormal by Terence Hines, a professor of psychology at Pace University. This book examined many pseudoscientific beliefs and practices including one named iridology. This was at one time quite popular in centuries past and was used as a diagnostic tool in much the same manner as was phrenology. While phrenology examined the bumps on one's head to diagnose one's character and indeed, one's antisocial predispositions, iridology was a tool for diagnosing one's health by the color of one's irises. This book became a sort of epiphany for me as it explained something that I had carried with me for many years.
A long time ago I met one of the strangest individuals of all time. As a matter of fact, next to the two men (in totally separate incidents) who told me they observed flying saucers land in a highly used suburban park, this man was most peculiar person I ever met. And I don't mean strange in the eccentric sense. I mean he was definitely a few bricks shy of a load. One autumn afternoon I was sitting in my truck at the westernmost parking area of the park, just waiting for the last few minutes of the day to pass before I could go home. A tall, lanky man sauntered out of the woods toward me. I thought little of it even after he struck up a conversation. He began by saying what a nice park we had and how it's so healthy to visit the area. He continued by adding that everything about the park was a healthy experience except the excessive amount of airplane traffic overhead. He was very upset and complained vehemently about this and asked if there wasn't something I could do to stop it. I think I was so stunned that I remained speechless. But this was only the beginning. He then went on to testify (much as they do in a evangelical congregation when they testify about how they found salvation) that he had previously been a physical wreck just a short time earlier, until he found the secret of good health. This was that you have to eat all your food raw, including meat.
By this time I was biting my lip so hard I began to taste my own blood. He went on to say that he could diagnose underlying ailments simply by looking at people. He then gave me a for instance by asking, "Now, your people are from northern Europe, right?" I answered yes. He then added, "Then why do you have brown eyes?" I said that my father had dark eyes. He followed with "No! You have brown eyes because your grandfather had bad digestion."
At that juncture I didn't know if I should just lay rubber and peel out of there or what. But the man continued his tirade by explaining that you have brown eyes if you or your ancestors had a bad digestive system and poisons would build up, manifesting their presence by discoloring the eyes brown. He said that he used to have brown eyes but his new health regimen purged the toxins and made his eyes blue.
I glanced down at my watch and explained that I had to leave. All the way home I laughed to myself and told everybody I met that night about the strange conversation I had had that day.
Apparently the man I met was an exponent of the long since abandoned pseudoscience of iridology. It's amazing to me that people can honestly believe that they can diagnose illnesses by looking at the color of one's eyes. I wonder if there are any philosophies that claim they can diagnose your health by the dirt under your fingernails? It makes as much sense. Or maybe someone out there believes that they can forecast the weather in Bombay by the size of the hailstones in Des Moines? Why not? Indeed, why not anything?
There are so many beliefs out there it's just a matter of visiting the philosophical supermarket and shopping around until you find what serves you best. Apparently these stores no longer stock critical thought on their shelves.

No friends; I wish I could say that that was the worst of it, but there are many other such stories I can report. Here is just one of them. In keeping with the spirit of this article's title I will name this tale:

The final delusion is that one has lost all delusion. Maurice Chapelain

Previously I related a story about a man who told me in all seriousness that he once observed a flying saucer land in a major eastern state park. Some years earlier I met another man who made a similar claim.
The incident occurred the first summer I worked as a park ranger. I had been on the job for almost a year by then and was becoming accustomed to seeing people doing some of the most ignorant, destructive, and downright stupid behavior imaginable. We used to joke that this was so common that there should be a law on the books called "aggravated chronic imbecility" and anyone caught committing such an act should be punished by forced labor, the pillory, or summary execution.
Weirdness was also commonly witnessed, although most of it was, by contrast, rather mild by comparison to this story.
At the time, I was assigned to foot posts throughout the park in particularly troublesome areas. In some cases these areas were remote and after being "stranded" at our posts, no one would pass by to see if we needed a drink, lunch, or if we had any trouble. We were truly on our own and we quickly learned how to think fast on our feet. One of these posts was situated on the westernmost portion of the park. So far removed from headquarters was it, I came to think of it as "the demilitarized zone".
One hot summer day I was tired from arguing with people all day. The foundation for the new visitor's center had just been poured and there was various construction equipment nearby and a contractor's trailer (which was burned up by some of the neighborhood's patrons later that summer). I was just pacing back and forth looking at my watch frequently, counting the minutes until I would be picked up, when a short and rather stocky man stumbled over to me. He was obviously on everything but roller skates and probably his drug cocktail was washed down with copious portions of alcohol. I don't mean to say that he was merely tipsy, I want to tell you that he was as high as a hawk's nest. He saw my uniform and made a rather crooked beeline toward me mumbling all the way. I didn't know if he was going to haul off and take a swing at me because of my authority or what. As he drew closer I was able to make out what he was trying to say. It was something to the effect of "Am I glad to see you. Are you a cop? I want to report something."
I figured that I was in uniform and wore a badge, and considering how far out in the boondocks I was, I was as close to a cop as he was likely to ever see out there, so I answered "Yeah, ok, I'm a cop."
He said "I want to report something I saw last night."
I thought to myself "I'll bet he saw pink elephants." If only it would have been something that prosaic.
The inebriate explained "Man, I was out here last night just communing with nature..." "I'll bet" I remember saying to myself.
He continued, "...yeah, and this flying saucer landed right here in the field. And then this bunch of little silver guys get out of the flying saucer and they walk all around. And this thing that's being built really must have interested them. They walk all around it looking it all over and they have some kind of tools and it looked like they took some sort of readings or something of the cement. And then they get back in the flying saucer and leave."
I didn't know whether to be scared of this guy or laugh in his face, so I played it straight and went along. I said to him "Ok, I'll report it. Thanks for telling me about it."
He gave me a sort of half-assed salute, turned and left, stumbling and staggering all the way. He disappeared into the woods from whence he came, never to be seen again (something like the spacemen must have done no doubt).
Not only do these examples showcase just how weird people can be, but it also demonstrates the influence of New Age philosophy on people's lives. With some, this philosophy is just a passing fancy, and to others it is something they have the most casual of acquaintances with and don't really get involved with it beyond being familiar with some of the terminology. But with many, including the two described herein, it becomes the innermost fiber of their existence.
Other than the occasional displays of gross bizarreness as I've just related, it usually doesn't manifest itself in overtly dangerous ways. But, New Age is essentially a philosophical supermarket wherein the subscribers (or more appropriately, the shoppers) rummage around for things which fit the personal tastes of whatever bent they happen to be following or interested in at that particular place in time. What's wrong with that you ask? It has been observed that, "When you believe in everything, you believe in nothing." Therein lies the problem. If you believe in everything that comes your way, then where is your ability for critical thinking, discrimination of value and quality, and the ability for making an informed and mature decision? If everything is equally feasible and acceptable as a philosophy of living, then where lies your value system? This is where such contemporary afflictions such as "We can't determine what is normal and what is not" and "There are no absolutes".
Such views are borne out of an inability to make a commitment or take a stance. Very often their argument is simply that they don't have the right to impose their view on someone else. This is just another cop out. We can and do know what is right and wrong and what is good and bad. Not only that, our basic instincts dictate to us from the day we are able to begin examining the world. We are able to make these determinations and those who say we can't are practitioners of denial, intellectual laziness and dishonesty, and a chronic inability to commit to anything - and what's more, they have become infectious.
Copyright © 2001 AJS