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
General Science More roundup 14 Oct 2008 … those weeds won’t ever go away. The inimitable Siris notes the problem with the myth that the US Electoral College is a restraint upon democracy (when it makes presidential elections possible where previously they weren’t, so how can it be a restraint?). The article in the New Yorker he… Read More
Biology The evolution of sex solved 4 May 2010 The reason for sexual reproduction has long been debated. Now at last, the solution: Read More
Epistemology Atheism, agnosticism and theism 6: Conclusion 26 Jul 201122 Jun 2018 Previous posts in this series: One, Two, Three, Four and Five. With all this apparatus in hand, let’s review. Every nonreligious person has a set of commitments based on the two major axes of knowledge claims and existence claims, and on the basis of what they count as contrary to theism, are one of… 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.