I will Believe the Book of Mormon as history when...

[_Daniel Peterson]

The Pal Joey Principle applies not only to literature (e.g. in the cases of such justly forgotten mediocrities as Lord Byron, William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Jane Austen) and to science (e.g., in sparing us the absurd nonsense propounded by Alfred Wegener, Ignaz Semmelweis, and Gregor Mendel), but in the arts.

In the first half of the eighteenth century, for instance, a German by the name of Johann Sebastian Bach developed a considerable reputation as an organist. Not content with that, however, he began to think of himself as a composer. But his adherence to Baroque forms and contrapuntal style was considered "old-fashioned" by his contemporaries -- especially late in his career, when the musical fashion tended towards Rococo and later Classical styles -- and his attempts at composition were quite properly ignored.

As the musicologist Pal Joey has observed, "experts know what to pay attention to and what to ignore. The mere fact that such work continue[d] to be ignored is about as obvious as it can get! . . . [A]ttempts to defer the judgement of such work to an infinite future chasm of time is [sic] idiotic!"

Unbelievably, though, a revival of interest in and performances of Bach’s music began early in the nineteenth century, and, despite the fact that his compositions were largely ignored by his contemporaries – and not merely by his contemporaries but for more than five decades after his death -- he is now widely considered to be one of the greatest composers in the Western tradition, if not the greatest of them all. (Another candidate for that rank, believe it or not, is an Austrian fellow named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whose reputation should have been settled for all time, beyond any reasonable doubt, by his penniless death and his burial in an unmarked pauper’s grave.)

Oddly unconvinced by the verdict of the musical experts of Bach’s own time, many dimwitted people in Provo revere such compositions as the Brandenburg Concertos, the Goldberg Variations, the English Suites, the French Suites, the Partitas, the Well-Tempered Clavier, the Mass in B Minor, the St. Matthew Passion, the St. John Passion, The Musical Offering, The Art of the Fugue, the Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin, the Cello Suites, more than 200 surviving cantatas, and a similar number of organ works for their technical and artistic beauty as well as for their intellectual depth.




&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

[_NorthboundZax]

The Pal Joey Principle applies not only to literature (e.g. in the cases of such justly forgotten mediocrities as Lord Byron, William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and Jane Austen) and to science (e.g., in sparing us the absurd nonsense propounded by Alfred Wegener, Ignaz Semmelweis, and Gregor Mendel), but in the arts.

In the first half of the eighteenth century, for instance, a German by the name of Johann Sebastian Bach developed a considerable reputation as an organist. Not content with that, however, he began to think of himself as a composer. But his adherence to Baroque forms and contrapuntal style was considered "old-fashioned" by his contemporaries -- especially late in his career, when the musical fashion tended towards Rococo and later Classical styles -- and his attempts at composition were quite properly ignored.

As the musicologist Pal Joey has observed, "experts know what to pay attention to and what to ignore. The mere fact that such work continue[d] to be ignored is about as obvious as it can get! . . . [A]ttempts to defer the judgement of such work to an infinite future chasm of time is [sic] idiotic!"

Unbelievably, though, a revival of interest in and performances of Bach’s music began early in the nineteenth century, and, despite the fact that his compositions were largely ignored by his contemporaries – and not merely by his contemporaries but for more than five decades after his death -- he is now widely considered to be one of the greatest composers in the Western tradition, if not the greatest of them all. (Another candidate for that rank, believe it or not, is an Austrian fellow named Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whose reputation should have been settled for all time, beyond any reasonable doubt, by his penniless death and his burial in an unmarked pauper’s grave.)

Oddly unconvinced by the verdict of the musical experts of Bach’s own time, many dimwitted people in Provo revere such compositions as the Brandenburg Concertos, the Goldberg Variations, the English Suites, the French Suites, the Partitas, the Well-Tempered Clavier, the Mass in B Minor, the St. Matthew Passion, the St. John Passion, The Musical Offering, The Art of the Fugue, the Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin, the Cello Suites, more than 200 surviving cantatas, and a similar number of organ works for their technical and artistic beauty as well as for their intellectual depth.

You know how Einstein got bad grades as a kid? Well, mine are even worse! ~Calvin

[_Daniel Peterson]

During his lifetime, the untalented madman Vincent Van Gogh sold only one single painting.

Why?

Partly because his career as an "artist" was so brief. But more importantly because, as the art historian Pal Joey has expressed it, "experts know what to pay attention to and what to ignore. The mere fact that such work continue[d] to be ignored is about as obvious as it can get! . . . [A]ttempts to defer the judgement of such work to an infinite future chasm of time is [sic] idiotic!"

[_beastie]

Note that DCP's examples were all examples of theories based on sound scientific principles being later validated by mainstream science.

He does not offer a single example of a theory based on pseudoscience being later validated by mainstream science.

The article I linked and cited about pseudoscience listed 22 specific traits of pseudoscience, and warned that even the presence of ONE of these traits should be cause for concern. Book of Mormon apologetics provided clear and strong matches for 14 of those traits.

Science and pseudoscience are two entirely different species.

[_antishock8]

Someday, scientists will unearth golden plated B-52's that are a billion years old; vessels that carried aliens from all over the galaxy and deposited them into volcanoes.

Someday Mr. Hubbard will be hailed as a visionary years from now when his theories about thetan levels and the human psyche are ultimately proven true through rigorous scientific research, some estimate, to occur in 50-100 years when our methods are more accurate.

Yes, Mr. Hubbard's study of humanity will find its place along side of the pioneers that were often ignored or mocked for their work. Geneticists. Anthropologists. Particle physicists. All of them. And lest we forget, right along side Mormon apologists who realized their long line of prophets, who had a direct connection to God, were wrong and bravely advanced the idea that a small band of jews were assimilated into a larger mesoamerican culture, which directly contravenes their scripture.

It's brave souls like these who are willing to advance the cause of science in the face of institutional dogmatism, mockery, and long held beliefs. So, here's to The Fat Man, raising the bar of academic rigorosity by posting on Internet forums, and liberally using non sequiturs in place of real science in his published works. Here here!

[_beastie]

Don't forget that scientology has lots of people with impressive degrees defending it.

[_Daniel Peterson]

Another nice illustration of the Pal Joey Principle is to be found in the history of art in France during the late nineteenth century.

In Paris, the first of the eight exhibitions of the so-called "Impressionists," who initially called themselves the Société Anonyme des Artistes Peintres, Sculpteurs, Graveurs, etc., was held in 1874 in the former studios of a photographer named Nadar, rather than at the Royal Academy of Art. The "Impressionist" exhibit -- which included such justly forgotten names as Claude Monet, Edgar Degas, and Camille Pissarro -- constituted a dissenting and independent gambit, motivated in large part by the quite well-founded hostility and disdain demonstrated toward their work by the experts at the Royal Academy.

As the art historian Pal Joey has demonstrated, "experts know what to pay attention to and what to ignore. The mere fact that such work continue[d] to be ignored is about as obvious as it can get! . . . [A]ttempts to defer the judgement of such work to an infinite future chasm of time is [sic] idiotic!"

[_JustMe]

beastie

It would help you to read my two essays found
here and
here, but I don’t expect you to do that, either.

Well, unless they have been "peer reviewed" and published by legitimate scientific journals, I hardly see any reason to read anything you write. Why read an amateur when I have all this other fabulous "professional" material and "peer reviewed" valid and objective scientifically undetatched no axe to grind quality materials?

[_Daniel Peterson]

beastie

It would help you to read my two essays found
here and
here, but I don’t expect you to do that, either.

Well, unless they have been "peer reviewed" and published by legitimate scientific journals, I hardly see any reason to read anything you write. Why read an amateur when I have all this other fabulous "professional" material and "peer reviewed" valid and objective scientifically undetatched no axe to grind quality materials?

ROTFL!

[_Daniel Peterson]

The Pal Joey Principle is very clearly illustrated in the history of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

The first such prize, in 1901, went to the great René F. A. Sully-Prudhomme. He beat out Émile Zola, who was the first runner-up, as well as Leo Tolstoy.

Tolstoy, a Russian writer of minor novels and silly essays, was passed over again for the 1902 prize, which went to Theodor Mommsen. The runner-up was the British philosopher Herbert Spencer.

Tolstoy continued to be passed over annually until his death in 1910.

The Nobel Prize for Literature went to Björnstjerne Björnson in 1903. Tolstoy was passed over again, of course, as was Henrik Ibsen.

As the critic and literary historian Pal Joey has demonstrated, "experts know what to pay attention to and what to ignore. The mere fact that such work continue[d] to be ignored is about as obvious as it can get! . . . [A]ttempts to defer the judgement of such work to an infinite future chasm of time is [sic] idiotic!"