The Problem of Induction is Not Just for Naturalists

Something that really gets under my skin is when a theist latches onto a general problem in philosophy and uses it as a means of 'discrediting' the naturalist or atheist worldview. Often times the eternally on-going debate over the foundations and justification of morality is the focus, while other times logic itself is the concern, as in the Transcendental Argument for God. However, there are also those theists who raise the problem of induction as a flaw in the naturalist worldview

Inductive reasoning is, to put it simply, reasoning from a specific case to a more general case. Most life depends on water to exist, so it seems that any new life form we discover will likely depend on it too. Induction differs from deduction in providing less robust conclusions. Deductive logic deals with possibility, while inductive logic deals with probability. We use induction to make inferences about the world around us all the time. It can be found in marketing and advertising, history, psychology, sports, and even science.

The problem of induction is commonly associated with David Hume, who questioned how induction might be justified in his 1748 work, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding. What is it that permits us to generalize from a particular, to connect our experience of life depending on water with the proposition or expectation that new life forms will depend on water as well? Hume noted that we make this connection not by deduction, but by induction, the very method we're employing

Centuries prior, Sextus Empiricus gave a brief and fitting summary of the problem:

When they propose to establish the universal from the particulars by means of induction, they will effect this by a review of either all or some of the particulars. But if they review some, the induction will be insecure, since some of the particulars omitted in the induction may contravene the universal; while if they are to review all, they will be toiling at the impossible, since the particulars are infinite and indefinite.

The problem of induction relates to what is usually called "the uniformity of nature". Science and logic seem to rely on the assumption that the natural world is in such a state of uniformity as to allow us to make reasonable inferences. If this assumption is untrue, then a great deal of what we think we know is wrong. But if this assumption is true, it would seem to call for an explanation, one that induction itself can't provide without begging the question.

Several responses have been made since Hume, with the most notable being Karl Popper. As a philosopher of science, Popper's approach primarily centers around scientific method, which he saw as bearing the responsibility of finding and correcting errors, rather than making inductive inferences. In fact, he argued that induction is a mere myth, and the way by which we actually create knowledge is through conjecture and criticism. Popper's solution has received plenty of criticism too, with the most substantial being that it doesn't really solve the problem of induction. His theory of falsification can go to show that, based on past experience, some scientific ideas are false, but it can't demonstrate when a scientific idea is true, a point he even conceded (Popper, 1979).

There is also the response of Hans Reichenbach, who offered a pragmatic justification of induction. His argument is strikingly familiar to Pascal's Wager in that he suggests that if we go with induction and it turns out to be true, we stand a better chance of success then if we were to go with any alternative reasoning, regardless of whether induction is true or not. Like Pascal's Wager, though, this pragmatic approach is only valuable in that it might point us to a useful strategy; it cannot tell us whether or not that strategy is founded on anything true (unless one accepts a pragmatist theory of truth, which comes with its own additional objections).

I am one of many people who concedes that the problem of induction has yet to be satisfied on epistemic grounds. Things like the uniformity of nature are really assumptions we make based on inferences for which we do not have solid justification. This is a real problem in philosophy.

Does the theist manage to avoid this problem by positing the existence of a god? In an article critiquing secular responses to the problem of induction, author James N. Anderson states at the tail end, "Of course, a Person for whom universal a priori knowledge of the very constitution of the universe is attainable (and perhaps even essential) would be an invaluable ally in such an epistemological predicament — especially so if that Person were inclined toward revelation of Himself and His universe." (Anderson, 2000)

Numerous assumptions are packed into this single sentence, but it is quite typical of the standard theistic belief regarding justification of induction, I've found. God created the universe and knows all about it, god has revealed himself and his works to human beings, and human beings like Anderson have been able to comprehend it as his god intended. These beliefs are fervently defended by apologists as being more than simple assumptions, but the ways in which they are defended are telling.

How do you know god created this universe? Look at the complexity, beauty, and order of nature, they might say. How do you know god has revealed himself to us in scripture? Look at the inerrancy of a text like the bible and the fulfilled prophecies in it. How do you know you've accurately received the revelation of god? I feel his presence and see confirmations of my faith in my life.

These are not ad hoc defenses of theistic beliefs. They make frequent appearances in the apologetic efforts of men like William Lane Craig, Gary Habermas, Josh McDowell, Alister McGrath, N.T. Wright, and many, many others. The beliefs that Anderson and his fellow theists see as giving justification to their use of induction are themselves justified by induction. There is no avoidance of the problem by tossing a deity into the mix and pretending that its existence would resolve everything. Note that even if the theist's god does exist, he is still left with the responsibility of justifying his own beliefs, a task which he undertakes by inductive reasoning.

In short, there is at present no escape from the problem of induction, not for theists or non-theists. When I engage in debates over this matter with believers, I call attention to this fact and invite them to see something like the problem of induction as a philosophical question to be tackled in mutual effort. We're both affected by this, so let's stop pointing fingers and look for a solution instead of trying to gain a foothold over the other. If induction has a secular solution, it will be available to theists as well, and should make no significant dent in their faith. But if the only thing you're interested in is a 'solution' that permits you to taunt the other side of the fence about how superior your worldview is, then it's no wonder your arguments revolve so much around the consistency of views than around the truth of those views. The irony is that consistency is a criterion that very often (perhaps always?) employs induction.

So what do we make of this problem? Is it a cause to stop drawing inferences altogether, to worry that life has no meaning, and to go sit in a dark corner and contemplate suicide? No, I dare say it's not. However, it is a cause to make us think more carefully about the inferences we draw, to consider that life may not have some of the meanings we ascribe to it, and to open ourselves up to new and different possibilities. Maybe induction is not perfectly justifiable because we tend to think of it in the wrong way, as if it ought to be more deductive or more absolute. Probability theory is not about making flawless predictions, but it can and does yield fairly reliable and practical results time after time, in discipline after discipline. Thus, I see our lack of a satisfactory answer to the problem of induction as no cause for drastic alarm. It is nonetheless a problem that merits interest, so that we don't forget our limitations and we continue to use caution in the conclusions we come to.


Sources:
Anderson, Secular Responses to the Problem of Induction, Proginosko.com (2000).
Popper, Objective Knowledge: An Evolutionary Approach (Clarendon Press, 1979), p. 7

The Revolutionary Message of Jesus

This is the first of a few articles from Godless Haven that has been removed and will be featured here for archive purposes. Originally written March 7, 2009.

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Do a simple Google search for 'Jesus revolutionary message', and you will find countless Christian websites all claiming that the teachings of Jesus Christ were new and unique for their time, and remain so still today. Some argue that the figure in the four gospels was a perfect symbol of peace on earth, while others contend that he was a political and social extremist who defied the Roman empire and horrified the religious leadership of the day. Perhaps the most fascinating thing about the character of Jesus is that he is not so easy to pigeonhole, as the scriptures of the bible offer support for a wide variety of views. In this article, I aim to explore these different characterizations of Jesus and determine just how revolutionary his teachings were.

I. The Prince of Peace?
 
Christians believe that Isaiah 9:6 references Jesus Christ when it speaks of the 'Prince of Peace'. The title has since made it into countless worship songs and other Christian paraphernalia, as believers proclaim their messiah to be the greatest standard for peace that ever walked the earth. Jesus is often portrayed as a beacon of purest love, opposed to all violence and injustice, but how well do his own words in the gospels confirm this?

'Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to turn "a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law -- a man's enemies will be the members of his own household." Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.'
-Matthew 10:34-39 

In these verses, the 'Prince of Peace' makes it abundantly clear that his teachings are not for those who desire peace. Christianity will divide families and friends, because God demands that you love him more than your own parents or your own children.

But those enemies of mine who did not want me to be king over them -- bring them here and kill them in front of me. -Luke 19:27

Beginning in Luke 19:11, Jesus tells the parable of a king who lends out some of his money to several servants. Even though his subjects hated him and did not wish him to be king (verse 14), and one of them rightfully accused the king of taking what is not his (verse 21), the merciful dictator still decided to slay his ungrateful subjects in the end of the tale. It should not be too difficult to understand that this parable symbolizes the reign of Jesus over humanity, and those who do not accept him as their savior will be cast into hell on judgment day.
It has been said that actions speak louder than words, and not only does Jesus vocalize his opposition to peace, but his actions do support his statements, as we find in the book of John...

When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, 'Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father's house into a market!'
-John 2:13-16

Why would someone devoted to non-violent protest cause such a ruckus in a public place of worship? Jesus could have simply preached against the atrocities he observed in the temple, but instead he chose to physically assault both humans and animals, in addition to destroying whatever he did not like to see in the building. To some people, this action of Jesus is an example of his fanaticism against the establishment, which leads me to the second characterization that is often applied to Christ.

II. Jesus the Anarchist
 
Many times the suggestion has been made that Jesus Christ was crucified for defying the authority of the Roman government or for causing general unrest with his 'revolutionary' ideas. However, there is little evidence in the gospels to depict Jesus as some kind of socio-political warrior, fighting for the people against the established order. When asked about paying taxes to Caesar in Matthew 22:16-22, Jesus says, "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's". This statement is unremarkable and non-revolutionary, as Christ clearly instructs his followers to obey their government and pay their taxes, while reserving their hearts and minds for God. This submission to authority is also addressed by the apostle Paul in Romans 13:1-2...

Everyone must submit himself to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.

As self-explanatory as these verses may seem, there are still dozens of websites, books and articles devoted to characterizing Jesus as a political activist and even an anarchist. Through imaginative reinterpretations, they pretend that Jesus and Paul weren't really advocating obedience to government, just saying it because they were in a bind. If Jesus had told his followers that they could disregard the commands of Caesar, he would've been killed on the spot... right? There is another angle to this issue that deserves examination.

When someone asserts that Jesus was crucified for defying the local authorities, they usually mean one of two things:

- He was executed by the Romans for challenging the governing laws/values of their empire.
- He was executed for stirring up conflicts among the Jewish population, by blaspheming and teaching others to blaspheme.

Neither of these perspectives are concretely supported by scripture or by history. The Romans were well known to be very tolerant of other religions and beliefs, and typically incorporated some of them into their own doctrines after they conquered a people or region. In and around Jesus' day, there were vast numbers of sects and groups known as Roman mystery cults, which professed to have secret, divine knowledge [1]. If the Romans did not fear these cults or their many different gods, then why would they have objected to the teachings of Christianity? As we have already seen, Jesus taught nothing that was radically against the empire. It is strange to think the Romans would've felt threatened by the small Christian sect even if Jesus had been calling for the overthrow of the government. When Simon Bar-Kokhba led his revolt against the empire and reclaimed much of Judea a few decades after Jesus in 132 AD, Rome was largely unprepared and had to be petitioned by the local authorities to send more reinforcements [2]. Why would they have cared about the small following of a Jewish carpenter who had not yet resorted to full-blown acts of violence?

If the Romans were not the ones lobbying for Christ's crucifixion, then maybe it was the Jews. But again, for a few reasons this seems unlikely. Jesus was far from the only person claiming to be the Jewish messiah in those days. We have several historical references to over a dozen messiahs from before and after the alleged lifetime of Christ [3]. Of these self-proclaimed saviors, the ones who were eventually executed were executed for leading violent rebellions against the Roman empire, not for blaspheming against Jewish beliefs. The New Testament mentions numerous stoning incidents as punishment for blasphemy, so it is also a wonder why the Jewish crowd or the Jewish leaders would not have simply stoned Jesus to death on the spot for blaspheming, instead of taking their case to the Roman authorities who often seemed unsympathetic to Jewish concerns.

Could a man named Jesus have been executed for revolting against the Roman empire? It is possible, but with the evidence we do have, it seems fairly improbable.

III. The Good News is Old News
 
When Christians say Jesus was a revolutionary teacher, many of them mean that the ideas he advocated were revolutionary in his time. Perhaps they were a bit of a culture shock for first century Palestine, but Jesus did not teach anything that was new to the rest of the world too. The Golden Rule predates Jesus Christ by several centuries, his famous instruction to "love thy neighbor as thyself" can be traced back to Hebrew scripture (Proverbs 24:17, 25:21), and his advice to "love your enemies" in Matthew 5:44 is not original either. The first century philosopher and playwright Seneca the Younger wrote:

Someone gets angry with you. Challenge him with kindness in return. Enmity immediately tumbles away when one side lets it fall. [4]

Believers do indeed love to imagine that their savior was the first and the last of great thinkers and moral sages, but he was only one among many throughout history, and he was certainly not the pinnacle. Jesus was not the first character to willingly die for a principle (Socrates did this several centuries before Christ), and he was definitely not the first person to equate himself with God, as Egyptian pharaohs, Roman emperors, Chinese emperors, and countless others had done as early as 2,000-3,000 years prior. The Jesus figure may be unique and original in his use of parables, but all of his claims and teachings may be followed back to another individual from an earlier time. I am not arguing that Jesus intentionally imitated their doctrines, but only that the character in the four gospels of the bible was not as revolutionary as some would lead us to believe.

It may be that many Christians choose to hold such an idealistic view of Jesus because acknowledging other similar messiahs and teachers might provoke them to seriously question the divinity of their beloved lord. One can imagine how it would be difficult to believe in a god or supernatural savior who only rehashes old wisdom and brings nothing new to the theological or philosophical arenas. There were plenty of important issues that the biblical Jesus left unexplored, which we could possibly expect a truly divine and moral leader to have covered. There is no clear admonition of rape, spousal/child abuse, child molestation (which the Greeks were well known for engaging in around Jesus' time), or any number of other unspeakable acts that are curiously left out of the 10 Commandments as well.

Jesus was no revolutionary, not in a peaceful sense or in a political sense. If he existed and spoke the words the bible attributes to him, he was perhaps just a man teaching from the heart. In many ways he sought to conform some of his lessons to the Judaic traditions and customs of the time, yet he also tried to depart from them in other ways. He was one among several self-professed messiahs attempting to change minds and practices in the first century. Thanks to the endorsement from certain individuals and empires, his religion has continued on to the modern day. He has made his impact, and maybe that is the revolutionary part of it in a sense, but let's not forget that a long-standing legacy in no way implies a greater chance of truth in the person or his message.

Sources:

1. Anonymous. Greco-Roman mysteries. Wikipedia. Retrieved Mar. 7, 2009.
2. Schoenberg, S. The Bar-Kokhba Revolt. Jewish Virtual Library. Retrieved Mar. 7, 2009.
3. Lendering, J. Messiah (overview). Livius.org. Retrieved Mar. 7, 2009.
4. Seneca. De Ira, 2.

The Atheist Prayer Experiment?

Back in 2010, Christian philosopher Tim Mawson published an interesting paper under the title, "Praying to stop being an atheist." From the abstract:

In this paper, I argue that atheists who think that the issue of God's existence or non-existence is an important one; assign a greater than negligible probability to God's existence; and are not in possession of a plausible argument for scepticism about the truth-directedness of uttering such prayers in their own cases, are under a prima facie obligation to pray to God that He stop them being atheists. [link]

Recently, Mawson was called upon by Justin Brierly, host of the Christian radio/podcast show Unbelievable, to help turn his challenge into an unofficial 'experiment.' During September and October 2012, each atheist who signed up was asked to pray sincerely to god for a few minutes a day for a full length of 40 days. In that time, several contributed their thoughts to the show's forum, to Brierly by email, and through their own individual blogs. Finally, the participants were then asked to report their belief (or lack of belief) at the end of the 40-day period. The results can be found on the show's website [link], and are discussed both in text and over the course of two episodes. Out of 71 participants, only 2 converted after praying.

I've been a regular listener to Unbelievable for several months now, but my reaction to the atheist prayer experiment has been mixed ever since it was announced. To their credit, Mawson and Brierly were immediately forth-coming on the unscientific nature of the project. They also acknowledged the concerns of many Christians who felt that the experiment was too open to interpretation, perhaps even in violation of the command to not put the lord to the test. So, long before things began, it was made abundantly clear that, whatever the results, no conclusion can be rationally drawn from the study about whether or not god exists. One might wonder then, as I have, what the point of the atheist prayer experiment actually was.

To hear Mawson and Brierly pontificate over the whole thing, you'll find out that the point was something as vague as appreciating the other side, opening up minds, etc. That's all well and good, but I can't shake the suspicion that there's more to it than that. How many times have you heard a Christian tell a non-believer that if they'd only humbly go before god and ask him to reveal himself, then he would? In the second episode of the show covering the experiment, Brierly reads a remark from someone who expresses much the same attitude: 'God will give an answer. It may take days, months, or even years, but he will answer.' In fact, Justin goes so far as to quote Matthew 7:7 in defending the experiment against accusation that it's testing god: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you."

When I was a believer, I shared this conviction that god would always answer the sincere seeker. To many people, prayer is not the Magic 8 Ball which some atheists characterize it as, but it's a direct, reliable, and consistent means of communicating with the wise and all-powerful creator of all things. It would be unthinkable that god should ignore or refuse any honest heart that wants to know him. If someone persists in disbelief, it must be that they were either insincere or god is just taking his time to reach out to them. You can find a diverse mish-mash of this on a thread about the experiment on the Orthodox Christianity forum [link]. To these believers, prayer - when it's done out of humility and sincerity - is absolutely 100% foolproof. Let me say that again. Absolutely 100% foolproof.

So when Mawson and Brierly comment on the value of the atheist prayer experiment, I can't help but think that they have cards they're not showing. No, the study was not intended to prove the existence of god, but more atheists using the foolproof prayer method means more souls stand the chance of being won for god. It also means more of an opportunity to talk to atheists about the 'proper' way to pray, how god responds to prayer, and so on. The atheist prayer experiment is just another evangelism tactic, under the clever guise of an impartial study. It's no secret that atheists are big on science, and what says science more than "experiment"? I have to wonder why they picked a name that sounds so scientific, instead of a more general one (which would be more accurate, as they admit), like the Atheist Prayer Challenge, Ask an Atheist to Pray, or Pray the A Away!

Mawson's paper isn't any better. He uses the analogy of being in a dark room where multiple people have told you they previously met someone (we'll call him Tom) and spoke to him, yet you have so far not met this person. Wouldn't it be prudent of you to call out for this Tom, rather than to assume he doesn't really exist? 

Well, there are all kinds of problems with this analogy. I've known very few Christians who claim to have heard an audible voice. To make the analogy more fitting, then, say that these other people mention that Tom communicates via telepathy, and that's how they know he exists. However, simply meditating and trying to reach him telepathically won't work unless you approach him like a student approaches a teacher. If you're not to Tom's liking, he won't say hi, so be sure you're humble when you try to contact him... and cross your fingers too, just in case he doesn't see your humility the way you do. But don't expect an immediate response either, even if you are the pinnacle of humility. Tom's a very busy man and knows what's best for you - although you two have never officially met - so he will greet you all in good time. Suddenly it starts to become more prudent to question these Tom-ites than to try your own luck at telepathically reaching their strange and fictional sounding friend.

I would also disagree with Mawson's contention that atheists are "not in possession of a plausible argument for scepticism... about uttering such prayers in their own cases." The notion that we have to experience something ourselves in order to justifiably hold a contrary position is demonstrably false. Each year, the legal system rightly convicts countless criminals on the basis of DNA, phone records, video recordings, testimony, and other kinds of evidence, while the judge and jury have no personal experience of the crime at all. It seems to me that Mawson carelessly swipes away centuries-worth of arguments both for and against the existence of god, all so that he can prioritize one of the arguments for god that is extremely subjective. We can't look at the evidence neutrally - you have to come onto our turf and do it our way. 

Why stop at prayer, though? Why not just say that atheists are obligated to accept the holy spirit into their lives, since it's the only way to truly experience god, according to many Christians? It's doubtful as many atheists would have responded to that sort of challenge, and thus the evangelizing purpose would be lost. But prayer is 'harmless' and it doesn't require any commitment. As Mawson says several times, praying and not experiencing god can be used as evidence against god for atheists, so you've got nothing to lose! Rings a little familiar to Pascal's Wager, doesn't it? Of course, Mawson doesn't think getting no answer is actually an argument against his god, so it seems his aim is really about recruitment, not making any real significant point.

Finally, let's talk about the results. In the two episodes of Unbelievable that discuss the experiment, Kendra and Kelly - the converts - are contrasted with several atheists who have remained unbelievers, despite some of them having odd and interesting experiences. What you hear from each group says a lot. Kendra came to the conclusion that belief in god is more satisfying to her life than disbelief. It seems to have had little to do with prayer, which prompted some listeners to suggest that she be disqualified. Kelly, on the other hand, pregnant with her first child, prayed to god and one day witnessed a rainbow that she interpreted as a sign. She describes her former disbelief as stemming from the fact that she didn't feel she was being answered when she would pray before. The atheists who remain unconvinced offered possible alternative explanations to their experiences and reflected on their interactions with believers.

Yet another issue I have with this 'experiment' is that it misses the ultimate point atheists always try to drive home. It's not about atheism versus religion. It's not even about doubting god versus faith in god. For many atheists, their opinion on god and religion is the result of critical thinking and skepticism, which, judging from the interviews, it doesn't appear that Kendra or Kelly have much of, to be frank. I have never denied that some atheists do convert, and I don't think any atheist has denied that fact. But I am a skeptic first and an atheist second. My conclusion is not from a bad experience with Christians, or from feeling ignored when I would pray; it comes from years of study and thought, as sounds to be the case with many of those in the experiment whose views have not changed. Now, I don't deny that some intelligent atheists have become believers, but I think one has to already be in a fairly receptive and uncritical state of mind to convert after a mere 40 days (or less) of on-again-off-again prayer.

In sum, the atheist prayer experiment was a resounding success at being the only thing it was ever truly going to be: another slick marketing tool for the Christian faith.

13 Days of Halloween, 13 Wicked Albums: End of Days

Deathspell Omega
Si Monumentum Requires, Circumspice (2004)
When I was a Christian, there were certain records and certain bands that seemed "possessed" to me, as if the sacred or profane were speaking through the musicians. Of course, I no longer believe in the supernatural, but I do think there are some artists who may occasionally tap into human experience and emotions in ways that surpass most other creative endeavors. Many of the albums I've discussed do not actually approve of the gimmicks they sell. Nick Cave does not encourage murder, Slayer doesn't really worship Satan, and Black Sabbath probably don't endorse the occult. Deathspell Omega is an entirely different matter.

Despite their somewhat comical name, the band is very serious about its music. So serious, in fact, that its members have chosen to remain anonymous in the hopes of putting the focus on the music rather than the musicians. What is known about them, and what is widely confessed in their lyrics and imagery, is that they are Satanists. No, not like Slayer; not even like Anton LaVey and other so-called satanists who are basically atheists under another name. The members of Deathspell Omega are theistic Satanists, meaning that they do believe in a "being" called Satan. But this is not the same Satan envisioned in Protestant Christianity, and it may not even be accurate to call it a "being." From what I've gathered out of lyrics and interviews, the Satanism of Deathspell Omega is an interesting blend of gnostic, hermetic, Abrahamic, Qabalistic, and various occult beliefs. They regard Yahweh/Jesus as the demiurge - a misguided, or harmful, and deluded being that created this universe - while Satan is seen as the figurehead among 11 deities that are all manifestations of the true god, who rules the realm of Chaos, into which our universe will some day be subsumed.

Si Monumentum Requires, Circumspice is Latin that translates to: "If you seek His monument, look around you." Latin is used several times throughout the album, not only in song titles, but in lyrics as well. The first track is one of three prayers that serve as introductions and interludes. These prayers are predominantly instrumental, though a couple feature ominous chanting. "First Prayer" is accompanied by a picture in the CD insert of a horrendously emaciated man, arms outstretched, as the invocation is delivered:

Lungs filled with embers and regurgitating boiling blood
I say Praise the Lord, praise, O servants of the Lord...
We will sing a new song to thee, O God:
A psaltery of thirteen Stations,
May scoria bury Eden and blind the light of hope...

With the first actual song, "Sola Fide," (faith alone) we enter into the morbid chasm of a new breed of black metal. Here, minimalism is no concern, and so the music walks a fairly progressive line for the genre, while the production is a slightly murky one that manages both to suit the darkly abrasive style of music and to be clear enough to be audible and enjoyable. The compositions feature blistering blast-beats as well as mid-tempo hooks, dissonant doom rhythms, and slow, demented sounding melodies. Ambient effects and even choral arrangements are worked in at a few points too, as Deathspell Omega defies genre expectations in pursuit of their message.

Speaking of that, if you're interested to try and decipher the message of Si Monumentum, be sure to have a philosophy dictionary and a theology textbook ready. Many of the lyrics will appear confusing and obscure to those who aren't familiar with the beliefs I mention above, but if one thing is certain, it would be that the album is dead sincere in its blasphemy and its praise of evil. "Blessed is he that taketh rewarde to slea the soule of innocent bloude," the third prayer says. "Blessed is he that murders Christ in himself and in his fellow men."

A review of this brevity can't do justice to this record. It flirts with insanity, depravity, and every dark, disgusting, and depressing thing. Undoubtedly, Si Monumentum is best experienced as a whole; if you listen to it, make sure you hear it in its entirety the first time. This is the first installment of the band's trilogy relating to god, Satan, and man's relationship with the two. The follow-up, Fas, descends rapidly into chaotic madness unlike anything most of us have heard, and the final part of the trilogy, Paracletus, reaches a staggering resolution between the two previous works.

For their intelligent lyrics, unique and unholy music, and uncompromising devotion to their art, I have to consider Deathspell Omega among my top three favorite bands. If there is one record ripe for any wicked occasion, for me it's Si Monumentum. The darkness of it may be a bit much for some, but those who are open to an unforgiving musical experience crafted in the furthest void of Chaos might find a lot to enjoy here.

13 Days of Halloween, 13 Wicked Albums: Day 12

Robert Johnson
King of the Delta Blues Singers (1961)
You've probably heard the story of the aspiring musician who, desperate to become a legend, sold his soul to the devil in exchange for unnatural talent. This long perpetuated rumor goes back most famously to Robert Johnson, a guitarist and singer who recorded between the years of 1936 and 1938. According to the tale, from a young age Johnson had a strong desire to become an accomplished blues musician. One night as he was traveling, he met a large black man at the cross roads of Highway 61 and U.S. 49 in Clarksdale, Mississippi. Yet this man was no mere mortal, but was actually Lucifer himself in human form. Robert made a deal with the devil to master the guitar in exchange for his soul. The man took the instrument from him, tuned it, played on it, and returned it to him, before (presumably) vanishing into the shadows, disappearing in a cloud of smoke, or descending below the road in a burst of flames.

There has been much speculation to how this legend originated, but Mr. Johnson certainly didn't make any effort to stem the tide of rumors. His song "Cross Road Blues" gives a nod to the story, as does "Me and the Devil Blues." His unsolved death at the age of 27 may have played a role in fomenting suspicion, not to mention that he allegedly had a habit of practicing in a graveyard to find quiet. In fact, very little is known of Johnson's life in general. Accounts differ on the year of his birth, his gravesite remains unknown, and the only documentation relating to him seems to be two recording sessions in Texas in '36 and '37, as well as a death certificate found thirty years later in 1968. Additionally, take a look at the photo in the video below. It's one of two known photographs of Johnson... and what is that up and to the right of his guitar... is that a face? The man from the cross roads, showing his approval?

Why has this made it onto a list of wicked albums? Though you probably wouldn't get the impression from most artists in the genre today, the blues was once considered the devil's music. Before the antics of Elvis Presley, before the lyrics of Led Zeppelin, the sad and depressing moan of the blues not only pushed the boundaries musically, but it caught the attention of women too. To capture the fancy of the ladies through skillful playing suggested you were too skilled, that you must have been granted some special power others didn't have. And whose job description includes stirring up lust in the hearts of young girls? On King of the Delta Blues Singers, Robert Johnson sings primarily about two things: women and the devil. If you have a hard time believing there's wickedness in blues, take some of the lyrics from "Me and the Devil Blues" as an example.


Early this mornin'
When you knocked upon my door
And I said, "Hello, Satan,
I believe it's time to go."

Me and the Devil
Was walkin' side by side
And I'm goin' to beat my woman
Till I get satisfied

You may bury my body
Down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
Can catch a Greyhound bus and ride

Granted, this may not be wickedness on par with Darkthrone or King Diamond, but I'd say walking alongside Satan, beating your woman, and being buried near the site where you supposedly made your pact with the Prince of Darkness qualifies as being pretty wicked. Other tracks like "Hellhound On My Trail," "32-20 Blues," and "If I Had Possession Over Judgment Day" deal with similar themes. The guitar work is a little sad sounding, but is made increasingly dreary by the dated quality of the audio and the worn-out feel of the guitar itself. The hardships of the Depression can definitely be heard, and along with the chains of racial oppression and the difficulties of life in general, Johnson delivers harrowing guitar melodies accompanied by a chillingly beautiful yet sorrowful voice. To call his performances "ghostly" in this digital age might be an understatement.

The reasons I find this album enjoyable and haunting are almost the same reasons I find Darkthrone and many other black metal bands enjoyable and haunting. They use a deceptively simple production to achieve a vast atmosphere that captures the imagination. The music is minimalist, though full of sadness, pain, anger, and darkness. The lyrics speak from the heart, even when that heart expresses itself in blasphemous and unconventional ways regarded as ugly or forbidden by many. King of the Delta Blues is likely not the blues you're used to, much as modern black metal is a phantom of what it used to be - now sanitized, commercialized, and adapted for a different audience. The beauty of these kinds of records is that they're brutally honest in laying bare all they've got, almost like a deathbed confession. In Johnson's case, some of these tracks actually were recorded shortly before his death. If you can handle a different kind of darkness, this album - which has influenced so many since its release - could make for quite a surreal Halloween.

13 Days of Halloween, 13 Wicked Albums: Day 11

Darkthrone
A Blaze in the Northern Sky (1992)

If I were less concerned with being fair and providing some variety, I could easily fill this list of thirteen evil albums with nothing but black metal releases. What could possibly be more wicked than a whole genre founded around the Dark One himself? The early black metal recordings have rawness, aggression, and dissonance to them that feels utterly primal and profane. Though the first hints of it emerged in the 1980s with the English band Venom and the Danish band Mercyful Fate, the genre really took off in Norway in the 1990s with outfits like Mayhem, Burzum, Emperor, Immortal, and Darkthrone. The last of these, Darkthrone, became a legend in their own right for consecutively putting out three of the most highly-regarded contributions to the black metal scene.

A Blaze in the Northern Sky represents a turning point in the band's career, as well as a melding of old and new music. Prior to this album, Darkthrone actually played death metal for their debut, Soulside Journey. For their sophomore effort, they decided to throw the label a curve ball that came in the form of a wall of fuzzy distorted guitars, roughly mixed and overpowering drums, and hoarse, distant screams - not to mention songwriting far more minimalistic than anything off the debut. Even so, the material does constitute somewhat of a 'bridge' between the old death metal style of the band and their newer style, which would be refined into a purer form for the two follow-up albums, Under a Funeral Moon and Transilvanian Hunger. Many of the riffs are heavy death metal chords 'translated' to the new style. According to Fenriz, the band's drummer, this decision was not received well by the label, but A Blaze has turned out to be one of the iconic releases in black metal.

One reason why I love this album as much as I do is because it took a lot of inspiration from Bathory and Celtic Frost, but used it in such a way to create something darker, bleaker, more intense, and more evil. Bathory and Celtic Frost were two of the godfathers of the black and death metal genres, each with very distinct styles and infectious melodies. A Blaze is like the unholy offspring of these bands. It opens with a deep, ominous ambient soundscape, where single tom hits on the drums echo every few seconds, before more eerie noises and sinister chanting begin, and a tortured voice leads up to the sudden explosion of a pounding black metal pulse, as if some wretched monstrosity was summoned up from the pit of Hell. The intro, aided by the cover, provides the mental picture of a cult of robed figures chanting infernal words in a circle around an altar in the middle of the woods, as the wind and some unseen malignant forces hum softly at first, before building up to a frightening bellow.

Dramatic? You bet your ass, and that's part of what makes it so great. In fact, the entire record sounds like the band took some battery-powered equipment out to a clearing in the forest and musically unleashed the demons in the dark of night. The reverb and lo-fi production give it that sound of a tortured soul crying out from somewhere deep in the darkness. And as one might expect, the lyrics are all about the occult and Satan, indicated by such tracks as "In the Shadow of the Horns" and "The Pagan Winter." Darkthrone lives up to their name, producing albums that consistently sound cold, dark, and abrasive. While their black metal style is arguably perfected on the two follow-ups to this record, A Blaze in the Northern Sky establishes a gritty, malevolent atmosphere that they don't quite succeed as much in capturing, I feel.

13 Days of Halloween, 13 Wicked Albums: Day 10

Candlemass
Epicus Doomicus Metallicus (1986)
When we're talking about metal, everything goes back to Black Sabbath. Power metal, thrash metal, death metal, black metal - whatever the subgenre, it owes its existence to the heavy, dark, and occasionally aggressive style basically pioneered by Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, and Bill. Yet if there is one genre that has really taken the most influence from the Sabbath sound, it would have to be doom metal. Doom rests on slow, often ominous riffs characteristic of such Sabbath songs as "Electric Funeral," "Into the Void," and, of course, "Black Sabbath."

After Ozzy and company paved the way, bands like Pentagram and Witchfinder General carried on the genre, but doom would not be refined much until Candlemass' 1986 debut. The album title, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus, gave the name to the new subgenre of epic doom metal. This is a take on the dark and heavy formula that revolves around long songs, operatic and choral vocals, and bears a fair amount of inspiration from classical music. The bluesy, rock 'n' roll side to some of the early doom bands, particularly Sabbath, is more or less absent from Epicus, where the atmosphere is purely one of sorrow, mystique, and evil. The opening line of the first track, "Solitude," says it all: I'm sitting here alone in darkness, waiting to be free...

From this debut, Candlemass created an impressively unique and powerful style for themselves, much as Sabbath did with their own debut back in 1970. Bassist Leif Edling is the mastermind to a lot of the band's music, but Mats Ekstrom re-imagines drumming in the doom genre by incorporating double bass kicks (very scarcely used before then), and guitarist Mats Bjorkman lays down some amazing guitar harmonies and crushing riffs. Interestingly, though, some of the other unique aspects of the album seem to have come about more out of luck. The vocalist on the record, Johan Langquist, is a classically trained singer who was hired for the session and did not return for subsequent Candlemass albums. On Epicus, he delivers haunting baritone vocals in an operatic style that became a major component of the epic doom genre. Guest guitarist Klas Bergwall also contributes leads that have a bit of a classical touch to them, further adding to the somber, antiquated feel of the music.

Lyrically, the debut deals almost entirely with fantasy and mythology, particularly the supernatural and occult. Wizards and sorcerers, fortune-tellers and demons, Epicus tells story after story in dramatic fashion, which certainly makes for great Halloween material. One could argue whether or not that qualifies it for being wicked, but once you listen to the indescribably epic and sinister "Demons Gate," you'll find that it alone earns this album a place of recognition. You won't find any odes to Satan on Candlemass' debut, yet you will find music that embraces darkness and doom in a different way. Candlemass is another one of my favorite bands, and Epicus is a masterpiece, in my opinion, so give it a try if you're looking for the mystical, elegant, and elaborate kind of wickedness while celebrating All Hallow's Eve.