Pixel, Texel, Voxel, Doxel

Some time ago, I was engaged in a discussion over at the Backyard Metal Casting Forums. I very much doubt that anyone would be very interested in the discussion per se, but it had very little to do with Santa Claus Machines. Otherwise known as A Machine To Grant Your Every Wish, or Universal Constructors, Star Trek's Replicators, Fabricators, or just "fabbers". Basically, a machine that makes what you want. 

Crude versions exist today. They cost several dozen arms and legs. Eventually the crudity and cost will come down, but for now, use of the machines is constrained to rapid prototyping for new product designs, experimental models, and components.  They usually consist of a PC with design software, a 3D printer, and possibly a 3D scanner. 

  

Artists, and more specifically sculptors, are interested in this stuff... and people who do not have design skills, artistic talent, or patience are also interested in it. 

The short version of the BYMC discussion went something like this: 

"I have a backyard furnace and lots of scrap metal with which to cast things. I have many, many ideas of things I wish to cast. However, I lack the skills/talent/interest to make the models of the things I wish to mold for casting. As a geek, I can instead create digital objects in CAD or Google Sketchup and I want to head down this route, instead of learning how to make things with my hands".

"Go for it, dude.  Here is a list of manufacturers that make 3D printers. Hope you have enough dough".

Now, I thought about this, and of course, got all philosophical about the subject. And I could have written a very long essay, but eventually I summarized my position to this:

"I don't ever plan on using any of this technology. At least for now. Reason being, it would take all the fun out of the tedium".

What do I mean by that? Well, aside from creating a Lowest Common Denominator social phenomenon of cheapening the creative process, where now just any dumbass can make stuff. (And I really don't have a problem with that, for the same reason I do not worry about plagiarism, because the Gap will always exist between those that got it, and those that don't). 

I won't use the technology, because the tedious part of making things, which is the majority of it, gives one time for reflection and introspection. 

Reflection because, as you make something, you make errors. As you make errors, avenues open up to take the thing you are making in a new or different direction. This is one of the reasons to make not just one art object, but a series of them. You usually find that the last, or second to last, in the series is the best. Or you find that the series mutates into something you would never, ever have thought of.  Had the design been executed in a robotic, or programmatic manner, reflection is lost.

Introspection because, as you make something, a feedback process occurs in the creative process. One that would not exist without the necessary paradox of wasted effort. It's hard to put into words. Its not giving up. Its moving on. Its questioning, not so much the worth, or meaning, or attractiveness, or utility of the object, but more like the value of it. Is this something that deserves to exist in the world? Do I really want to put in the time and effort to make this thing? Without experiencing the whole tedious material manipulation process, the feedback loop cannot exist.

So there you go. I'm not a Luddite or anything. If I can make use of the technology, I'll use it.  I also recognize my own limitations, and just as if I need something done which I have neither the time nor talent, I'll farm it out. And when the day comes that the technology is cheap, I'll definitely use it. Oops. Did I just use the C-word? Well, there's that as well.

Anyway for now, I'm fine, thanks.

Posthumanism: "Avatar" and Cyborg Multitasking

This journal entry may get a little weird, even for me. Fair warning.

I've not seen the movie "Avatar". I'm sure I will, and since it is in 3-D, I suspect I must see it at an IMAX theater. I've read the reviews, plot summaries, and spoilers, so I know what it is about. I also know that this is not a new concept. In fact, word has it that James Cameron ripped off the plot from a Poul Anderson 1957 novella entitled "Call Me Joe". This would not surprise me, as a writer named Harlan Ellison had a similar issue with Cameron over the movie "Terminator".

Hey, that's Hollywood for you.

Anderson wrote a story about a paraplegic who telepathically connects with an artificially created life form in order to explore the harsh terrain of the planet Jupiter. So, a little on the clunky and out-of-date, but you get the picture. The theme to be briefly explored in this entry is all the different man-machine interfaces and combinations that we can expect.

Today, we already have cyborgs among us. If you consider anyone with a mechanical part implanted in, or supplementing, a human body as part of the category of "cyborg", then there are literally billions of cyborgs on the planet. Not just the ones with the cool computerized limbs, but the ones with hip replacements, peg legs, dentures, or bridgework would be considered as such. I wouldn't stretch the fuzzy boundaries of the category to include them.

My definition of "cyborg" would be that there must be some type of direct brain/machine connection. The connection itself really doesn't matter much. It could be direct nerve ending connection as are used in today's computerized limbs. It could be a bioelectrical interface within the brain itself, such as an implanted chip. Or it could be through the EEG brain scanning helmets or beanies currently being developed to "read your thoughts".

The point is, cyborgs walk among us. Today. Courtesy, primarily, of the Department of Mad Scientists, or DARPA. (As described in Michael Belfiore's book in the preceding link). Many veterans, particularly from the current wars, who have had limbs blown off, are outfitted with computerized robotic limbs. There is every indication that these limbs will become better, faster, stronger than the ones evolution has graced us with. In many cases, the body is being modified to accommodate the robot parts. Amputees are getting surgeries so that their motor signals are more readily understood by their myoelectric arms and legs.

It won't stop there. As Belfiore recounts in an interview with an Iraq war vet, whether his new hand could manipulate a computer mouse. The vet responded "Why do I need a mouse? Why can't I just plug my arm into a USB port?" Indeed. And why stop there? Why not go wireless?

Which is where we are going. Once you can control things wirelessly, there's no reason for it to be attached to your body. Remotely piloted vehicles are the logical next step, with the ultimate version (at least in Cameron's very expensive but quite limited vision) being the movie "Avatar", in which you operate a remote body. You shouldn't have to pilot your remote. You shouldn't even wear it. You should be it. This much is obvious, even back in 1957.

If you are going to be a cyborg, you should not have to multitask. (Besides, studies have shown that we humans are absolutely terrible at multitasking. Better to leave multitasking to computers that are much better at it). So, your limbs, or your body, or your remote, should be sophisticated enough to handle not only the minute-to-minute status and maintenance of the robotic parts, but the uplink/download interfaces with the biological portion. This will happen.

Technology advances, robotic limbs and remotes will get "smarter" and more sophisticated. Or at least, like chess games, they will have increasingly clever algorithms and sufficient processing power and memory to brute force their way through most intractable problems. Certainly not the way we (non-cyborgs) think, but it works, as a chess player will attest to in a contest with a computer. In fact, there is no reason not to supplement our brains as well. We end up with a biological part of a cyborg that is not so much controlling its mechanical parts, as having a conversation with them.

In fact, it makes sense to keep these doofus human brains of ours as much out of the loop as possible. Use the brains for what they are good for, which seems to be informed decision based upon experience. Much the same as our own brains have two decision paths: one through the old reptilian brain that is instinctive and lightning fast, and the other through the neocortex which is a bit more thoughtful and considered.

One wonders then where does the person end and the machine begin? Or is that a dumb question? And the answer is, dumb question.

Because here is a weird thing about our funny big brains. We are quite adaptable at reconfiguring our identities. When we drive a car, we don't so much drive the car, as become the car.

The question is how far can the adaptation go? Its easy enough to operate a humanoid body with four limbs and a head. One equipped with a standard sensorium similar to our own. But what about operating a body more suited to the environment to be explored or lived in, such as the bottom of the ocean, or deep space?

How well would we handle "being", say, an octopus underwater? Or a shark? Or a swarm of bees? Or an alien? Could we handle it? Or would it drive us crazy? Embodied minds is what we are. We are informed and limited by our forms. It makes sense our minds are shaped by our bodies.

How far can we go? How long can we remain this way? There is a story of a magician who could transform himself into any animal. He especially enjoyed becoming a bear and, over time, as he spent more and more time as a bear, he lost himself, and became less and less a man. This is obviously a cautionary tale, but honestly, if you've become a cyborg, is there any reason to go back to being a human? Or if you've "become" a cyborg (by operating a remote for a sufficient time), would you want to go back?

Could this one way that humans end? This is often referred to as the complacent posthuman apocalypse (well... it is what I often refer to). We, for one reason or another, are all changed so gradually we don't notice it. Before you know it, you can't find anyone who isn't changed. Could be. It might end up being a generational thing. We already seem to be distressed by this, as the younger ones become more accustomed to, and intuitive of, advanced technologies.

Well, here's my prediction. I've no doubt that the brain scan technology will continue to improve. Within, say, seven to ten years, "telepathy beanies" will be available on the market. Not only will the kids be "talking behind your back", they'll be running things with their brains. Creepy, huh? And I have no idea what the step after that will be.

It's the Oceans, Stupid

I don't get cable. Since I'm back in Indiana, I'm able to watch cable. And here's my question.

What the hell is wrong with the Discovery Channel?

Industrial fishing shows. Clear cut logging shows. What's next? Strip mining shows? African bush meat shows? A Christmas special on baby seal bashing?

I guess their revenue is way down. And, so, they need to show everything that is wrong with the commercial fishing industry and then glorify it.

Hey, here's some questions. Can you see the Great Wall of China from space? The Pyramids? The U.S.'s Interstate highway system? Answers: Nope. Sometimes. Nope.

What manmade thing can you see from space? Net fishing. Bottom dredging drag nets scraping the ocean floor clean.

Picture a Force Ten tornado with a kill path miles across, and when it sweeps over your house, it drags everything with it, scrapes right down to the top soil and nothing, and I mean nothing, will grow back for decades to come. Meanwhile, hapless you and your scrawny, underaged loved ones become "bycatch", because there's no money in you, so back you go, falling to earth with a sickening thud.

"Bycatch".

What a weasel word. It's, oh dear, collateral damage, can't be helped, dumped back into the sea obviously dead as hell despite the narrator's assurances to the contrary.

Hey, I got your Deadliest Catch. I got your long-line fishing. Let's kill everything we can dredge up or hook, including juvenile endangered fish species. Meanwhile, Discovery puts on a show called Whale Wars, which bemoans the fate of un-endangered species of whales.

Whales that, under the International Convention for the Regulation of Whales, established on Dec. 2, 1946, are perfectly legal to be slaughtered by signatory nations. Committees decide how many whales of what species may be hunted, in what numbers, and real numbers are tracked as to how many have actually been hunted. Data on their decisions (whale kill quotas, and whale kill numbers) is public information. I mean, since the establishment of the Convention, not a single species of whale has become extinct. In fact, their populations have increased. It may not sound particularly Green, but the thing is, it WORKS. As a matter of fact, every international agreement, from the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (1973, in the works since before Earth Day), to other environmental solutions such as the 1987 banning of ozone-depleting substances has worked. And for two reasons:

1) Rather than shaking a finger and saying "Bad Power Mad Greedy Corporate Destructors!" it recognizes that activities we don't like are not going to disappear because we don't like them. And the process of demonizing doesn't stop the Bad Guys. But, ah, amazing, these activities can be regulated, and willing partners on the exploitation side can be found to cooperate, and

2) If these activities - and the people behind them - are made public, scrutinized, verified (so that they CAN be regulated), they can be controlled. And the good thing, the whole environmentalist/conservationist goal can be achieved.

Sorry, Greenpeace. Sorry, Whale Wars. You aren't saving whales. In fact, you aren't really doing much of anything except getting in the way of - and giving a bad name to - serious, thoughtful, REAL environmentalists.

And who are these real environmentalists? Typically, marine biologists, that's who. Understaffed, underpaid, underresourced, dull, boring, dorky scientists.

Not sexy, rugged fishermen, or activist buffoons in Zodiac boats, but scientists. Scientists like people from the University of Halifax, that predicted the collapse of the Atlantic cod fisheries. Scientists that are constantly ignored by the faceless directors - unknown and unaccountable to the public - of Fishing , Inc.

Ignored because the data biologists present does not match the Fish Catch Model. And what is the Model? Know one knows. It's a black box. It's known only to the faceless bureaucrats of, you guessed it, Fishing, Inc.

And so the biologists collect their data, and publish their findings, write "crazy papers". Crazy papers that now predict the collapse of the entire world's fisheries by perhaps as early as 2048.

But you know, that's just bummer news. No TV revenue in stuff like that. And the viewing public is tired of all the sky is falling stuff anyway. Let 'em watch commie pinko public TV for that. They've got that demographic sewed up.

John Makes A #2, Hilarity Ensues

I had intended to give you all some idea of where I stand metaphysically, to talk of deep philosophical matters and big issues. And I had entered about a paragraph's worth of, well, in retrospect, bullshit rationalizations about my belief system (or lack of), when I suddenly had a desperate urge to take a shit.

Hey, it happens.

So, just so you are aware, the college is closed down for Winter Break. This is absolute bliss for me, as I have the studio all to myself. I'll be able to cast metal, or cut wood, or weld, or whatever, without the distraction and interruption of the faculty and students. I mean, it really is great, being alone for a change.

So, in I head to the bathroom, get business taken care of, and fortunately it is a healthy bowel movement and none too messy. (And I know you all wanted to know about all that). So I reach for some toilet paper... and there is none there. 

Okay, fine. 

No reason to panic. So I frog-walk myself to the next stall, pants and undies around my ankles. No paper there either. Duck waddle on to the next stall... and the next stall. Last stall. Nothing. What the fuck?

Sigh. Alright, fine. I saw paper towels in the dispenser. I take a leisurely short-strided stroll over to the sinks, crank out two heaping fistfuls of paper towels, and return like a hermit crab to my fortress of solitude.

Now, I'm not sure which paper company the college is buying their stuff from, but I'd wager it is a factory formerly behind the Iron Curtain. I say this, because the whole heinie-cleanup endeavor is a tad on the scratchy side.

Well, guess what? I didn't grab enough towels. So, I venture out once again, and there is the janitor standing there. I look up at him, pants around the ankles, bare butt sticking out.

"Hey, how ya doin?"

He nods. I grab more paper towels. Head back to base. Get myself all taken care of. Walk out standing tall. What else you gonna do?

So, just as well, I didn't write about original subject since this whole adventure is a real life metaphor for all things spiritual in my life.

Communist as Hell!

First off, at the risk of a little wrath from the girlfriend, I'm sending out a electronic bear hug to Magaly Guerrero for promoting me. If it is one of my usual bear hugs, you all should probably hear this hot little chili pepper's spine cracking, as the 4th and 5th thoracic vertebrae separate and pop - but in a good way.

That very pleasant chore accomplished, on with the griping!

One of the inside jokes of my family is the expression "Communist as Hell!", which my nephew has shortened to "Communist!", and summed up, or distilled down, parsing down the whole variety of levels of meanings, it basically means "Bullshit!", as in dishonest bullshit. 

And more specifically dishonest bullshit that looks good on paper, looks good theoretically (thus the Commie reference), but in a dialectically opposite Capitalist way, on the way to reifying it, corners are cut, quality is abandoned, and you end up with some cobbled together Soviet abortion that (again, weird) only unsupervised private enterprise could create. (Because as ugly and cobbled together as the Soviet thing is, it's still pretty damn sturdy and reliable, like an AK-47, and not like the usual shoddy piece of shit that only a cost-cutting bloated plutocratic capitalist running-dog would sell in a place like Walmart). So, it's a paradoxical phrase, which is why its an inside joke.

In my family, given that we are all, in one form or another, scientists, engineers, hard-nose materialist types who would rather be confronted with the unvarnished truth, warts and all, instead of convenient fictions, we like to cut through the bullshit.  As such, we, all of us, have, among other things, an immense distaste for lawyers on TV. 

They ain't honest.

To quote Joe Pesci's character in "My Cousin Vinnie", when speaking of the D.A. building his case, like building a house from bricks, the bricks... "When you look at the bricks from the right angle, they're as thin as this playing card. His whole case is an illusion, a magic trick".

Legal arguments, generally, ain't honest. They ain't honest because you don't get all the facts. Just the facts they want you to know about. That's called cherry-picking. I see it every damn day, and it is, yes indeed, Communist As Hell!

This whole thing started up with my morning coffee, flipping through the channels, and I happen to catch John Stossel on Fox News*. Actually, it's not even about him. It's really any entertainer out there (and every political commentator of every stripe, my dears, is an entertainer, from people with giant quivering manboobs, like Michael Moore or Rush Limbaugh, to slightly more fit physical types with mustaches, like John Stossel or Janeane Garofolo, or whomever) that is Communist as Hell, because they are trying to get their point across in the shortest - and therefore most dishonest - sound bite that they can.

So Stossel is yapping away about how the government can't do shit right. Let's ignore the fact that I would not even be hearing his broadcast if it were not for the liberal largesse of the US government. He uses the example of how the East German government couldn't build a car, and as a result, we can't trust our government to do anything.

What the fuck? Stossel, do you really think I'm that fucking stupid without my coffee in the morning?

Stossel, would you trust private enterprise to successfully complete the Manhattan Project? To put a man on the moon? To build a national interstate system? To build an Internet? Aside from the fact that your average business hack lacks the vision to see any money coming out of these projects, and don't have nearly enough funds to do it, he's just far too wimpy to accept the risk!

I mean, the US government is Communist as Hell - but, for the most part, in a good way. And in a very selective way. 

The telegraph (and by extension our entire communication infrastructure)? Funded by Congress. (Look it up!) 

The research and development monies that went into the invention of the transistor? Computer chips? The personal computer? No, they weren't cobbled together in someone garage. The components were. But the components would not exist unless they had been funded by Congress. 

The Internet? Ever hear of DARPA? You wouldn't be reading me without their (your) monies.

Lasers? Radio? TV? Flat screen TV? Want to guess? 

In fact, one of the most spectacularly successful programs for technological innovation has been provided to you, with your taxpayer dollars, by the US government. 

We The People (through the instrument of the federal government) have given (free) most of the land west of the Mississippi to corporations. (Look up the Railroad Acts, starting with Comrade Commissar Lincoln). We killed off or corralled all the Indians, to make it safe to settle. We build dams to water the wasteland, and then let farmers take it Free of Charge. We electrified the countryside (for Free, Fucking FREE!). And (okay this is gruesome weird) We built a Bomb that kept probably 2 million men from dying on the beaches of Japan. We embarked on a period of exploration that turned blurry spots of light into vast new worlds (NASA). And when you consider that, since 2004, Hollywood's annual budget for making movies surpassed that of NASA's, should you be just a little pissed off? I mean, sure, NASA crashes a 200 million dollar satellite into Mars, but no one pitches a bitch about Waterworld?

We the People have done a lot of Commie shit, and a lot of it has not been Communist as Hell!

Hey Stossel? Shut the fuck up you Commie bastard!

* To be fair, Stossel was complaining about the current Senate version of the healthcare reform bill. I agree with him that it is just a wet, slimy turd slick of a bill. But we disagree as to why it sucks, and I still was not happy that he still had to make a dishonest argument about why he thought it sucked!

Going Postal? Not..quite..yet...

I figured I'd do a quick followup to the last journal entry. For some reason, my girlfriend reads my musings, and on occasion, she has commented that, considering how nice of guy I am, where does all the venom come from? 

Venom? I'm trying to be smart and funny here you bitch! 

And sometimes smart and funny crosses over into dangerous territory (oops, like probably in that last sentence). But you know, I've always tried to maintain a No Sacred Cows rule in my attempts at humor, and so there you go.

But now let's say there is someone out there that read the prior entry, and they say, "Geez, John. I'm a climate skeptic. Way to go with the diplomatic approach by calling me a dangerously stupid asshole! Way to provide a reasoned rebuttal that will convince me otherwise". 

To which I reply, "Oh, shut the fuck up, you whiner". 

But hey, some of my best friends are climate skeptics, and I regularly call them dangerously stupid assholes. Actually, far worse stuff than that depending upon how much we've had to drink. If they are not offended, and I do not worry about it, why should I care if you, a perfect stranger, are offended?

And besides, I've found, philosophically at least, that one cannot reason a person out of a belief.

I've given up on that. I learned my Internet debate lesson a long time ago. And so now, for the most part, I instead poke fun at you and your rhetoric. 

(It is also why I have kind of given up on watching presidential debates, as there is no attempt at reasoned discourse or critical evaluation, but mere parroting of party ideological positions and well-marketed sound bites. Like Frank Zappa once said "Politics is the entertainment branch of industry").

So then, the second thing a climate skeptic might say (if they had a very, very brief moment of clarity), would be "Okay. Suppose you are right. What then?" 

Whoa! Hit me with a stun-hammer! You really want to discuss this? Okay. Well, then I suppose we need to ask the question "Why am I not an equally dangerously stupid asshole?"

It's question worth asking. The question, more properly phrased, is What Am I Doing About It? And the answer, honestly, is Not Much Dude. 

I, like pretty much all my fellow Americans, am busy making the problem even worse. I'm not changing my behavior. In fact, in my case, my carbon footprint - since I burn LOTS of natural gas to melt metal for casting sculptures - is more like a carbon buttprint.

So, I suppose I'm an asshole as well. Just not nearly as dangerously stupid as you.

But I'm trying in my own way. I'm encouraging my farming friends back in Indiana to cultivate terra preta which not only conserves soil, but sequesters carbon. I'm glad to see China is kicking our ass in green technologies, and shame anyone that can make a difference into noticing. I write emails to my butthead congress and hope that my president will grow a sack and take some action. And when I do write, I stress, more than anything, that Its The Oceans, Stupid. 

And fundamentally, I'm an optimist, but a practical one.  I'm not expecting human ingenuity to make things right. I'm not expecting some hi-tech miracle to be pulled out of our collective ass. I'm not expecting Everybody to start making Nice-Nice. I'm no goo-goo-eyed wobblehead.

And I don't buy into the whole Save the Planet bullshit. The planet, quite obviously, can take care of itself. She's a tough old 4 billion year old monster bitch, with guts of molten iron, and a rock hard hide. Life has made it through plenty bad time, ranging from the Snowball Earth world glaciation events of two billion years ago, to the Great Dying of the Permian Extinction (nightmare global warming) of 250 million years ago, to the cometary greeting card the dinosaurs got 65 million years ago. And this is only the nasty shit we know about. The Old Bitch may have gone through far, far worse. But one thing is for sure - and you really, really need to get this through your head -  We Need Her, but She Don't Need Us. 

So I have to be resolutely hopeful that we can change our ways. This hope of mine, it's a belief, true. But it is a belief I have to keep at the core of my life. We do have the capacity to learn from the past, to recognize when we are fucking things up for ourselves, to realize when we are taking a shit in our own kitchen. 

Negative Connotations

There is a "sculpture wall" installed in an out-of-the-way section of the wood shop, here at the college where I work. The wall is set up to look like your standard gallery white wall, and students will document (photograph) their finished projects with this as a professional backdrop.

When I opened the studio this morning, someone had left up a wall-mounted ceramics piece from the previous night's "documentation session". In the dim light, it looked like a giant buttocks, a big 'ol butt on the wall. And when I turned on lights, it was definitely a big fat pair of butt cheeks, but with  these little hemorrhoidal Leggo connector pegs interspersed within the butt crack. (Yeah, ick). This just made it all the more repulsive, and knowing that it was a fat-assed, unpleasant, illogically egotistical cow of a woman who had made the piece did improve the association.

This often happens with abstracted objects. There is an unfortunate lack of thought as to what the object may resemble. And more often than not, a negative connotation is formed.

I remember one time, a kid was making an abstracted object out of stone, and while he was contemplating it, I mentioned "Hey, wow. That looks like a big old dick".

"No, it doesn't!"

"Yeah. Oh, yeah. It's a dick. Come here. Look at it from here".

"No! It.. it's suppos-, I-... aww sheeit!"

Ah, well, So it goes. Some things start out as one thing and end up another. Some things have one meaning, and, confused or conflated with something else, end up with a completely different take, in  a process called pejoration (taking on negative connotations).

Examples. Cock. Pussy. Uranus. Penal colony. Ejaculate.  

(A rooster. A cat. A planet. A prison. An excited verbal exclamation.)

How about the word "skeptic". It's been on a long, slow pejorative slide for some time. Originally imbued with the positive meaning of "investigator", towards the less positive connotation of "doubter" (but still, concerned with evidence rather than belief), then finally "nonbeliever", or, as in the phrase "climate skeptic" dangerously stupid asshole. 

You know, I have four categories of stupid. 

No 1) is developmentally challenged, as in not enough processing power, and those in this category get a break. 

No 2) is ignorant, as in hasn't been provided or has been denied the facts, and those in this category get a break as well. 

No 3) is just plain stupid, as in, they got the brains, they got the information, but they just can't seem to make connections, and usually I will cut them some slack, until I realize there is no way they are going to get it, and then I just have to say "Out of the way so I can get the job done, stupid". 

And No 4)... No 4) is dangerously stupid. They got the information, they can process the information, they can put 2 + 2 together, but they willfully ignore the conclusions or consequences because it does not fit into their worldview, or will seriously inconvenience their lifestyle, or will compromise the lofty view of themselves that they so illogically possess. These people, if I had my way, would be landfill. There is really nothing else to be done with them.

And I am of the opinion that climate skeptics are dangerously stupid. They may think they are in the right, but if so, why the need to cherry-pick data, by presenting, for example, long discredited scientific papers as current science? Why the need to twist numbers to match their conclusions? Why the need to lie? 

Which is, of course, what I've seen on every single climate skeptic site, provided they actually have anything like charts or data. Most of the time, it's simply a generalized dismissal, such as "All that global warming stuff is a bunch of hooey, so there!" 

The current silliness about Climategate (hah!) certainly does nothing to discredit the nearly century of work on the subject, any more than finding someone was wrong about today's weather means you can't trust their opinion on anything! What an absurd form of reasoning.

Fact of the matter is this. We, as a species, move more earth and stone than the largest rivers. We farm a land area equal to the entire South American continent. (Look it up!) We've increased the acidity of the entire global ocean by creating carbonic acid from carbon emissions (from a global average of pH of 8 to a pH of 7.7 - and pH scale is logarithmic). (Look it up!) We haven't quite turned the world's oceans into vinegar yet, but give us time. Glaciers, and the arctic ice cap are shrinking and melting (and someone tell me how they can melt if the earth is getting cooler as the skeptics would have us believe?) Even the Antarctic continent, for all practical purposes cut off from the rest of the world's weather systems, is being effected by the heat. That's a big thing, when a continent cut off from global winds and current by an insulation of miles of ice is still perturbed. (Oh, sure, the skeptics will tell you that the eastern Antarctic ice cap is increasing, and it is. This is because there is more precipitation in the form of snow, and it only snows down there when water gets a chance to evaporate, which requires heat). I could go on and on, but there are better websites that document all of this, and I'm close to frothing at the mouth on this.

Skeptics? Skeptics? Come one, you fucking stupids.  We are a Force of Nature now. Time to grow up and act like one.