Metaphysics, a poem 26 Oct 201226 Oct 2012 It rains. It rains here and now. It rains on the possible fat men in that doorway. It rains in the desert. It rains in the jungle. It’s conventional. It rains in the holes. It rains in the shadows. It rains vaguely here, with a fuzzy edge to the drops. The colours of the rainbow shade into each other, But on the whole we can tell one from another. We universally hate the rain. We mutter under our breath about rain. It does not rain in every possible world. Just in the actual one, here and now. It rains on the concrete. It rains on the objects. It’s hard to determine why. God help us zombies. Humor Metaphysics
Evolution Evolution quotes: Darwin on randomness 25 Jun 2010 Some authors have declared that natural selection explains nothing, unless the precise cause of each slight individual difference be made clear. Now, if it were explained to a savage utterly ignorant of the art of building, how the edifice had been raised stone upon stone, and why wedge-formed fragments were… Read More
Humor Where *can* we put a mosque? 28 Aug 2010 So, if the critics of the mosque in NY are correct, that we should not put a religious institution near a place where anyone even remotely connected with that religion may have committed an act that leads to a place being thought “sacred”, where can we put one? I did… Read More
Metaphysics Aware: A Matter of Perspective 22 Oct 202322 Oct 2023 The next installment.:So, what is the explanatory target with the mind’s consciousness? What is it we physicalists cannot explain that needs the feels to account for? What, exactly, is missing from any possible physical account? Read More
It rained here as well, and now the cranes migrate southward. Shouldn’t that mean spring for your location and a happy shower rather than melancholy drizzle?
An old one you may find pleasing. Modern translation is often just given as goose so it is somewhat easy to miss. I have news for you: The stag bells, Winter snows, Summer has gone; Wind high and cold, The sun low, Short its course The sea running high; Deep red the bracken Its shape lost, The wild goose has Raised its accustomed cry; Cold has seized The birds’ wings Season of ice This is my news. …… ro gab gnáth giugrann guth translated above as ‘the wild goose has raised its accustomed cry’ I prefer ‘usualness has taken hold of the barnacle goose call’ ro-gab (take hold) gnáth (customary/usual) giugrann (wild goose/ barnacle goose) guth (cry/call) I am rather fond of it.
Zombies do not feel the rain, but act exactly as if they do. We who are men cannot tell zombies by how they react to the rain. Neither can zombies, and they act exactly as if they cannot.