Tuesday, March 31, 2009


Lol Saints. That's right, irreligulous.

Oh, and the LOL cat bible: that's Right!
"1 Oh hai. In teh beginnin Ceiling Cat maded teh skiez An da Urfs, but he did not eated dem..."

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Semi-Vacation

Hey kids.

I'm entertaining the girlfriend and her mom and aunt for the weekend, so I may not be able to post anything for over the weekend as I had planned. I may still get something up in the Classical Theories series, we'll see.

If anyone else has some free time, feel free to post guys.

I'll be back soon.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Classical Theories of Religion: Karl Marx

As promised, I'm updating on my several-part series on some classical theories of religion. This edition will cover Karl Marx, an important thinker in many areas, and will concentrate primarily on his "A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right" and "Theses on Feuerbach." Both are interesting works from his fairly early years, and reference both Hegel and Feuerbach, about whom I already wrote a previous post.

In the way of a brief background, Marx was born in 1818 in the German Rhineland, and died in 1883. The Rhineland itself had in interesting history which was formative for many people in the area. In 1794, during the French Revolution, the Rhineland was taken and many reforms were incorporated. The French ruled the area for 20 years, longer than any other part of Germany, until the Prussians took it back and annexed it to Prussia in 1814. Two years later, in 1816, a year after the Congress of Vienna, which restored the monarchical status quo of Europe, Prussia published laws against Jews - reinstating the confinement to ghettos and the denial of civil service. Marx's father, inspired by the French Revolution and the Enlightenment, converted from Judaism to Lutheranism. In 1824, Marx and his brothers were baptized and attended Sunday School. In 1835, Marx went to the University of Bonn to study law and basically lives a wastrel existence. A year later, he moved to Berlin and began to study the philosophy of law. he gave up on Romanticism and became interested in Hegel, eventually also reconciling with his father. In 1837, he joined a number of clubs and associations identified with the Hegelian left when people were beginning to struggle for power among the Hegelian movements.

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Thursday, March 12, 2009

Epistemology Classrooms

Based on my experience with analytic philosophers (hereafter 'philosophers'), I would say the great majority (>75%) of them are non-theists. So prevalent are atheists and agnostics among philosophers that, upon meeting each other or congregating in a group for the first time, it is often the case that one or more of them will take it for granted that everyone else among them is an atheist or agnostic. Philosophers will sometimes put down a position by comparing that position to religion (to wit, Nietzsche used to refer to Kant as "the clever Christian"; it wasn't a compliment). I once enraged one of my colleagues by jokingly saying that if anyone in the department were to convert to or adopt a religion, he would be that person. And when a quasi-relativistic epistemological theory (like semantic or inferential contextualism) is proposed, the test of whether that theory is too relativistic is whether that theory permits religion to count as knowledge or justified belief. Needless to say, I fit right in. Religious claims strike me as so obviously absurd that I am probably a worse philosopher because of it. (Imagine trying to give a charitable interpretation of Descartes' Third Meditation - the one where he presents the cosmological argument for the existence of God - when you think the concept 'God' is not only fictional, but very close to vacuous. That's right: I think that many sentences containing the word 'God' are neither true nor false, but positively meaningless.)

Given the contemporary landscape of academic philosophy, you'd expect that there would be pervasive discrimination against religious philosophers. However, I do not think that is the case. In my experience, once it is revealed that someone in their ranks is, for example, a believing Christian, most philosophers I know will act with respect toward that person, and not be openly dismissive of or hostile toward that person's beliefs. That's not to say that they use kid gloves when talking about religion - far from it - but when they do debate religion they will do so on the basis of reasons and evidence and refrain from leveling ad hominem attacks against their interlocutors - and the theistic philosophers will respond in kind. Some of the very sharpest analytical minds I know are believing Christians. (I have to admit, I am not quite able to make sense of it. I think of it as a kind of cognitive dissonance.) It's when I talk to religious philosophers that I feel the least threatened (by which I mean, existentially threatened) by religion. To put it bluntly: religious philosophers tend to be quite rational in their religious belief; the religious doctrines they affirm are usually sanitized of the more despotic and unreasonable aspects of religion.

Religious philosophers are mostly harmless and reasonable. I still think their religious views are crazy, but when I talk to them, I get more hopeful about the prospects of people getting along despite their deep ideological differences.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

In Which I'm an Idiot

So, sometimes I feel like an idiot. This is one of those times.

See, last year I went to this amazing Mexican restaurant and tequila bar with my friend Mary, one of her friends, and her ex-husband. It was...interesting, but the food and tequila was absolutely amazing (thanks again for driving and taking us, Mary!). Since that time last year (it's been almost a year), I have been trying to remember the name of this place, because I got a little tipsy that night and wasn't driving (I tend to not memorize directions or names if I'm not driving...)

So, for an entire year, I have been struggling with this and asking people about it, trying to describe it and hoping to get someone who knew what I was talking about. I'd narrowed it down to Blue Agave, Salpicon, and Salud and had simply reconciled myself to the fact that I'd have to go to each and check them out. Then, last week, I was making bananas foster at Steph's house (yeah, that's right, I cook a lot). I asked her for some matches, because I didn't want to use my lighter and get that close to the alcohol (yeah, that's right, I've also burned myself a few times). She's like "Yeah, I've got some matches that you left here at the beginning of the year."

Not remember this at all, I say, "Wait...whaaaat?"

So, she brings out this matchbook emblazened with "!Salpicon!" on the front.

I immediately feel like an idiot, and then it all comes rushing back. I had grabbed the matchbook on my way out of the restaurant so I'd remember the name and put it into the coat pocket of my leather coat. Since it warmed up soon afterward, I hung up the coat and didn't use it for a long time. Then I wore it only briefly this winter before I got a long wool peacoat and had totally forgotten about the matchbook by that point, when I gave it to Steph to use at her house...

Ugh.

At least I know what the place is now.