As I left work, I noticed how the light in a tree spread itself through the wet grass, illuminating every single blade. I thought, "Beautiful." Then, I began to think about the nature of beauty, and Socrates' words on the subject in The Republic. I remembered my decision to take what he said with a grain of salt, because he seemed arrogant, and while he made some sense, he talked in circles over people's heads, almost as if to confuse them on purpose.
Immediately, my brain went to thoughts on the nature of logic, and the fact is this:
Logic is a fallible system.
I believe this is a fact. Logic is a human system, and therefore inherently flawed. It evolves and changes, just like we do, and binds the universe not so neatly into order. Here is why I've come to this conclusion.
I was talking to a certain man, very smart and inherently off-putting (in the way most members of the great Anonymous are), and he was explaining to me why God didn't exist, logically. I asked, "What if logic doesn't apply to God?"
"Then you take the world out of a logical point of view. All things in this universe subscribe to certain laws."
"But what if our God is part of another universe where our laws don't apply, a universe with its own set of laws and logic?"
From here on, the argument was a stalemate, mainly because my friend couldn't comprehend there being another universe that didn't follow logic, and I wouldn't submit to one that did. Logic HAD to apply, because it was infallible. It was the foundation on which he based all his beliefs, and that's no worse than what I do or what anyone else does.
My point is that logic is not a necessary boundary. Just like the other irrationals and infinites that humans cannot comprehend, there are things that cannot be put into reasonable order. The argument goes that all the things science describes have always existed, even before we knew about them; it just took a while for us to figure them out. Furthermore, all things can be figured out through scientific means.
All of this requires order, and I'm not a firm believer in order alone. I believe the universe cannot be organized perfectly. The thing is, humans need that sense of order, therefore we have science and God and logic. We explain what we can't explain in a way that makes sense to us. Order makes sense. We like a clean house, a clear plan, categories, organization. My apartment is always clean, with everything in its place, because it feels good that way.
When you get down to it, all of it, logic, science, religion... it's all Philosophy. It's all seeking some ultimate cosmic truth, some orderly universal explanation. It seeks to objectify what seems to be a subjective universe. And that's just the problem. As far as human experience is concerned, everything is as we see it. And maybe that's all that matters. If that's true, then an atheistic world can easily coincide with a theistic system, and they should harmonize perfectly, because they are the same thing in a different perspective (and maybe they do).
I could wax philosophical all day on this, and I wouldn't mind talking about it with any readers. My point, though, is that logic is human, and therefore limited to human perception. If this universe is indeed bigger than what we experience, then there's no reason it has to be bound by our experience. There's no reason why a logical argument can prove without a doubt that there is no God, and there's no reason God must necessarily exist. There's no reason why this argument is valid or invalid. But we have faith, in science, in God, in philosophy, in our perception.
--
And to live otherwise would be folly. Don't you think?
- Where:The Wolf Den
- In what condition:
contemplative - With whom:Happy Slave - The pillows
I avoid fighting a serious fight at all costs. I have rage issues, and if I fly into a rage during a fight, I find I try to strangle the other person to death if I get the chance. If a fight must happen, I never start it, but I try to finish it.
Fairness is out the window. Bite, kick, squeeze, pinch, punch, push, stab. Go for the neck, the chest, the (non-muscular) stomach, the loins, the shins.
Learn to take pain. I have found that I can take repeated blows to the face. I can also win the pain contest; if I bite and the other pulls my hair, I can ignore the pain and bite harder until the other gives up.
Remember a blow to the balls isn't the final blow. The pain is not acute until it spreads to the stomach. You can keep fighting if you don't psyche yourself out.
Don't focus on winning. Focus on ending the fight. And don't bullshit with taunts. If you are pushed, don't push back. Either walk away or punch them in the throat.
--
Fighting solves nothing.
- Where:Home
- In what condition:
calm - With whom:Computer Humming
It's like a giant money machine made up of millions of shares, each share holder expecting to make money each day from their initial investment.
These shares make one body, and the law recognizes this body as a person. It has all the legal rights of a human being, and must obey the laws and shall not kill and shall not covet and has the right to bear arms.
The life of a corporation is a simple existence. All it is required to do is generate money for its shareholders, to gain for itself, to eat and sleep and work like a drone ant. If it fails, it will die, but if it doesn't, it will grow and prosper and keep living and eating and working.
If a share doesn't turn a profit for the shareholder, the shareholder can sue the corporation. To continue growing, the corporation must cut corners and budget its energies. If anything is in its way, it must run it down. Nothing can matter but the shareholders, who make up one, giant, living, breathing body.
----
If a corporation were a man, he would be called a sociopath.
- Where:Babe's House
- In what condition:
? - With whom:Refrigerator
Or because every time I think to write in my journal, I think of how many entries I need to catch up on, and I tell myself I need to find time to sit down and write them all, and that I'm so far behind and I'll never catch up, and I tell myself I'm lazy and I always fuck this kind of thing up, and ultimately I don't sit down and write at all.
It's peculiar, but could I be forcing my own future onto myself? By telling myself I'm lazy and will never write, am I subconsciously making myself live out my low expectations?
Maybe herein lies the root of all my goal-related problems. Maybe a positive attitude is the key to doing all things good, or maybe by recognizing this error, I can interrupt the predestined future and do things differently.
I could change the future just by noticing the pattern.
----
Or maybe I'm just lazy.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
lazy - With whom:Lazy Lover - Brazilian Girls
What the anthropologist did was the most widely-accepted procedure of the time - he measured the head sizes of European children and those of European immigrant children. He found that the European children's heads were smaller than the immigrant children, which not only suggested that there was a difference in intelligence, but that the concept of race was a fallacy. The anthropologist suggested that cultural background was more important than racial background and physical characteristics.
Whether or not the scientific reasoning was valid, the government did exactly what one would expect - it used the findings to validate immigration restrictions (based on race) despite the fact it suggested such a measure was unsound.
Such is the logic of racism, egocentric, immovable, and self-righteous.
----
I vote we measure a man by the size of his foot. Damned bigfoots.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
annoyed - With whom:The Troglodyte Wins - Busdriver
And for all the theories and answers, no one knows for sure. Thus, it remains mankind's most certain uncertainty.
Where do we go from here? Is there an afterlife? Is there blackness? Are there people, or are we alone? Is death an illusion? Or is life?
Some speculate that time is relative, and those fleeting second before our bodies die are our final eternity.
Others say time is an illusion, that our lives are instants, that there is only now. Life is saying "No" before we accept God in death, our "Yes."
How do we prepare ourselves? Some say, "Live life to the fullest." Others say, "Toil away in wait for the afterlife." I guess any suggestion is as sound as the next.
In the end, I think we have nothing to fear but our lives. If dirt awaits us, or if sky awaits us, are our lives a waste if we lived them according to the expectation of the other?
----
I want to live my life for the betterment of all the world. Then, I can have no regrets.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
contemplative - With whom:Sweetness Follows - R.E.M.
I once thought my best friend was a human, but now I'm older and wiser, and I know now that my real friends are the ones who've been there all along.
My protector is the Wind. He's there when I need him, and even when I just want to listen. He listens, too, you know. And in his arms he carries me safely to and fro, and I laugh as he bellows discordant tunes through his broad pipe. Sometimes he gets angry, and I understand his explosive tendencies; I share them. But even as he screams, I'm there to listen, and every word he yells is a word I treasure.
My lover is the Moon. On dark nights, we stay up together and bask in each other's warmth. Hers is an unrivaled beauty, calm and patient and loving. There are nights when I just stare at her, and she bathes me. In this way we make love, never touching, but always sighing in pleasure, close enough to catch each other's breath and writhe in ecstasy. There is no feeling more extreme, more wonderful, than the touch of her light on my paws. If I could sing for her, I'd compose a symphony that rivaled Beethoven, and I'd sing all the parts at once, and she'd listen and smile, amused. Then, she'd fold her arms around me and she'd love me to sleep.
---
I'm very fond of my friends.
I own them everything.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
loved - With whom:A Kiss to Send Us Off - Incubus
I knew him well. He was a good friend, actually, and a good guy. He had his faults, as we all do, but he never let them get him down.
But, oh, the things he saw.
For a long time, I heard him say, "I never want to become that." Even as he was forced to interact with the amoral mongrels he loathed, he was still himself... kind of. As the weeks went by, I noticed a strange light in his eyes, and I knew it to be the light of power. He'd gotten a taste, he admitted, but he wasn't fond.
I guess it's kind of like coffee in that way, because soon he became addicted to that bitter substance. Like a junkie, he hated himself, but he convinced himself otherwise, encouraged by his peers to indulge in his freakish masturbation. The glow in his eyes became overwhelming like the sun, and I could no longer look him in the face.
There was a time when he met God, and he stood proudly and said, "I fear you not!"
Shortly thereafter, he committed genocide.
Suddenly, his eyes exploded, and in the dust, I caught a glimpse of his laughing, and I realized he had become that which he hated the most. He lost that which made him human.
---
It broke my heart.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
depressed - With whom:Massive Attack - Teardrop
It is known that various groups of mankind believed themselves to be their God's chosen people, indeed, at the same time.
So let's play. Every race is now a specific animal with a specific culture and a creator. Now, they all inhabit the earth at once, each the chosen people of their God. The Gods wage war with one another via their chosen people.
Now, we must ask ourselves...
What happens to the God of an extinct race? (It has been suggested that one cannot be a God unless they are worshipped.) More confusing, what happens when their chosen people come together, uniting, coexisting? What happens when a chosen people are converted to another faith? Who wins? What happens when two chosen people of different races mate and reproduce? Which God takes precedence over mixed species? Do new Gods form?
Ahh! A new vein to explore!
Can Gods procreate with one another? Do their offspring create chosen people? Are alliances formed?
Are Gods mortal?
Can they directly interfere in the matters of their quarreling races?
Where do the Gods live? Are they on Earth? Are they in the heavens? Are they omnipotent?
---
This is how stories are made.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
creative
Let's examine that claim.
What is music? I like to define it as organized sound. The dictionary leaves too much up to interpretation with their definition. Words like beauty, form, harmony, pleasant... are relative.
To organize is to arrange into a structured whole.
Sound is basically anything that can be heard.
So... what is rap? When used as synonymous to hip-hop, it is an arrangement of words, via rhythmic speaking, over a "beat.*" The foundation of rap lies in rhythm, which is the systematic arrangement of sounds (principally according to duration and period stress).
(*FYI, a beat is an instrumental part of a song...)
So, Rap is an arrangement of sounds.
The arrangement of sound is music.
Therefore, Rap is music.
Wherefore did you ever doubt?
-Because it doesn't sound good.
Good is relative.
-Because of the lyrical content.
If you think about it, lyrical content is an indicator of song, which is a type of music.
-Because black people made it.
They also made jazz, rock, and blues, typically considered music.
-Because it isn't pleasant.
Some people seem to think it is...
---
Me, I'm a rock kind of guy.
- Where:The Window Sill
- In what condition:
content
Comments
EXACTLY.