Trumpontology: why he’s “smart” for not paying taxes

Why does Trump think he’s smart for not paying taxes?

Because he Kant even.

AJEL / Pixabay

When an atheist is brutally honest


Nemo / Pixabay

I listened to a podcast on Reasonable Faith in which Kevin and W.L. Craig discuss this atheist’s blasting of fellow atheists’ inconsistencies on ethical assertions. (This comment, which originated here, is also discussed rationally here.)



[Edit: for those who don’t have time or won’t bother to follow the background links above, here is an excerpt from Laddymac that gives the gist of what he’s talking about.]

My only directive is to obey my genes. Eat, sleep, reproduce, die. That is our bible.
We deride the Theists for having created myths and holy books. We imagine ourselves superior. But we too imagine there are reasons to obey laws, be polite, protect the weak etc. Rubbish. We are nurturing a new religion, one where we imagine that such conventions have any basis in reality. Have they allowed life to exist? Absolutely. But who cares? Outside of my greedy little gene’s need to reproduce, there is nothing in my world that stops me from killing you and reproducing with your wife. Only the fear that I might be incarcerated and thus be deprived of the opportunity to do the same with the next guy’s wife stops me…So be nice if you want. Be involved, have polite conversations, be a model citizen. Just be aware that while technically an Atheist, you are an inferior one. You’re just a little bit less evolved, that’s all. When you are ready to join me, let me know, I’ll be reproducing with your wife.

If I was sitting in a discussion or debating this guy, I would be tempted (not sure if it’s wise or foolish) to play devil’s advocate and tell him what I would need to do if I adopted his ontological framework (and therefore, his ethical one too.)



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Arapahoe High School shooting hits closer to home

We are the middle children of history, gentlemen. Our Great War is a spiritual one. Our Great Depression is our lives.

–Tyler Durden, Fight Club

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A great evening in conversation

Friday night I needed to get myself in a place where I could think, read, and get in a good conversation. Not a club, or the average lounge (which to me is just a club with places to sit), but a place where conversation can thrive and people can…just be.

Define that for me

Now isn’t that INTERESTING


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Why I love talking with philosophers

I have come to accept that I am unusual in some ways.

Isn't that interesting

Hmm…say more about that

For example, I tend not to order the same entree or beverage more than once (I like changes.) I like fringe nerd movies, ice cream in the dead of winter (and in the middle of the night), and They Might Be Giants.

But one of the weirdest things about me is that I love talking about the topics that are banned in some households: politics and religion. And who loves talking about those more than philosophers?

Yes, philosophers–those people who correct your syntax and question your questions without blinking. Lesser men find it maddening, running from the table screaming…or laughing. There was a time when I thought, “Hey, who doesn’t like talking about this stuff, really?” But I have since come to realize I am strange in this regard. So be it. There are other strange people out there, united in one discord.

Here are my reasons why I love talking to philosophers, and find it refreshing.

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Revisiting great books: Possibility of Metaphysics

I’m working on getting back to reading things I love, as well as books that are very helpful, useful, and recommended to me. I believe it’s necessary to inspire me on and focus on the future.

One such book is The Possibility of Metaphysics. I love how Lowe is brash but efficient with his words, and that he gives a wake up call to the rebirth and reality of Metaphysical philosophical enterprise.

Stay tuned for notes… 😉

Reflecting on sense

“Isn’t that interesting…”

A cool blog I stumbled across

I was looking for a link on Richard Dawkins’ self-contradictory missives against purpose in the universe, and came across this blog, With All I Am, by Prayson Daniel. He ends this particular post thusly:

I am officially banned from Dawkins’ Website Discussion for pointing Dawkins’ Self-Delude Logic, Don’t Feed A Troll is their Motto; “You don’t have the ability to comment” And they call themselves Truth-Seeker. I beg to differ, Dawkins-Discussion is no better than a religious cult! Say something different and you are out.

Don’t worry, Mr. Daniel. Every negative opens up a positive. Dawkins’ moderators don’t have to honor the same rights they reserve for themselves in order for you to still possess those rights.

Is it possible …

IF it’s possible that there is more to our reality than what you have seen,

IF it’s possible that there is something about you that can endure when your body dies,

then, “There are more things in heaven and earth… Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Thank God for humility. 😉

Wherever I go, there I am

When I am feeling very alone and like I am imploding, collapsing in on myself, I often have to remind myself of the brute fact of them. In other words, the presence of something–indeed, the impression of something–closes up that whole issue. At that point the only thing left of this rational black hole is the feelings, and who knows where those originate from.

I carry around the problem and the solution simultaneously. All the time.

Shel Silverstein pointedly captured this in his poem, Nobody.

By Shel Silverstein

Nobody loves me,
Nobody cares,
Nobody picks me peaches and pears.
Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,
Nobody listens and laughs at my jokes.
Nobody helps when I get in a fight,
Nobody does all my homework at night.
Nobody misses me,
Nobody cries,
Nobody thinks I’m a wonderful guy.
So if you ask me who’s my best friend, in a whiz,
I’ll stand up and tell you that Nobody is.
But yesterday night I got quite a scare,
I woke up and Nobody just wasn’t there.
I called out and reached out for Nobody’s hand,
In the darkness where Nobody usually stands.
Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,
But I found somebody each place that I looked.
I searched till I’m tired, and now with the dawn,
There’s no doubt about it—
Nobody’s gone!