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So I'm just stepping out of the shower when shrieking alarms start ringing, in my fire detector /and/ in the ADT security dealy near the front door. I don't know the code for it, since, when my uncle left me in charge, I said I'd never be using the house alarm anyway. Had I known he had the added security feature of co-ordinating the fire alarm with the home alarm, I'd have done otherwise! Yes, fire alarms mistake showers for fires, in spite of the fact that a shower is pretty much the opposite of a fire. Anyway, after sharing some words with the ADT lady, then her supervisor, I was unable to convince them not to send the fire department to my house. "This is what happens when you remove all common sense from bureaucracy!", I exclaimed. "You don't need to raise your voice, sir," replied Brenda the supervisor. "Yes I do! There's alarms everywhere, I'm in my fucking towel, can't you just turn my alarm off and let me go have lunc...

So my msn suddenly signs itself out, saying "you have signed in on another computer." This can mean one of only two things. First, my ex is checking my email, since, in hindsight, I never changed the password. Second, the bastards in Vancouver who've sofar taken 5 weeks to fix my laptop (don't ever buy extended warrantees) have finally installed the new motherboard, turned it on, and it automatically found a nearby internet connection and signed itself onto msn. Or, I suppose, the laptop people are checking my email on purpose. Anyway, if whoever checked my email is reading this, I assure you, reading my email is much more boring than whatever else it is you're doing!

This will be the first of hopefully several entries regarding Christmas. Young, secular, middle class folk are in an odd position these days. The meaning of December 25th is always changing, and it seems that no matter what we celebrate, it's not quite something we 'believe in'. Must we celebrate the birth of Christ? Absolutely not. And let's be honest here, Jesus is getting a bit dated. Capitalism has offered an alternative. What we can choose to celebrate the spirit of consumption - or more sympathetically, the spirit of contributing to economic growth by investing in various products. Of course, it has become common rhetoric that consumption is, by its very nature, a bad thing. We confidently argue that consumerism has the twofold effect of enhancing superficial selfishness, while simultaneously pushing into the periphery the 'real' self, burying the soul under mountains of plastic and electronics. And there's a point to this: Santa...

Another gem from CNN: "New Jersey Superior Court Judge Joseph Falcone dismisses drunk-driving charges against a Zamboni operator even though he tests positive for alcohol. The judge rules that the ice-grooming machines aren't motor vehicles because they are not street legal." Talk about following the letter of the law!

This just in, from CNN: "Disneyland announces plans to close the "It's a Small World" attraction to deepen its water channel after the ride's boats start getting stuck under loads of heavy passengers. Employees ask larger passengers to disembark - and compensate them with coupons for free food." No, it's not a joke. I say, it is rare to genuinely laugh out loud when alone in front of the computer, but this did it for me. The mental picture - especially for anyone who's actually been on the small world ride - is just unbelieveable; giant globular white American humans in tiny little boats scraping the bottom and getting stuck, while little racially-steryotyped robots 'from around the world' sing gleefully from all sides. The gag, the irony, the social metaphor, it's all there! "I'm sorry, sir, you're just too fat to go on this ride. Here, have some fries and a hot dog instead. You can upgrade your pop to Jumbo si...

Since Aristotle, and probably more popularly in The Matrix , people have pondered the sameness and difference between the conscious and unconscious (dream) worlds. Philosophers have presented the notion of a dream so real, that knowing the difference between dream and reality becomes impossible. We all experience that on the odd occasion, but typically only retroactively. For example, you might for a moment remember an 'event,' but quickly realize that it was in fact a dreamed event, rather than a real one. I'd like to offer words on a slight different experience I've been having lately, in which my dreams reflect reality, but in a somewhat predictive capacity. This is not to say that I have dreams that predict future events, but rather they are of recent past experiences reconstructed in such a way that I understand more deeply the things that underlie people's emotions, motivations, etc. In other words, my dreams are telling me the way things 'r...

Sometimes I imagine a world in which, instead of talking, people have actual giant words in their hands, that they pass along whenever they wish to say something (think like those fridge magnet letters). So when I want to express myself, I jumble together a physical sentence and hand it to the person with whom I'm conversing, and vice-versa. People move around, and words move around, get re-jumbled, and etc. But the world is not so simple, is it? The analogy requires much more if it is to be reflective. When we use words as positioning tools what we're doing is aligning ourselves to the words, rather than the opposite. Imagine in my hypothetical world a series of words, fixed on stationary stands, immovable. These are the words of absolutes. Words that when used 'say' things about the users that position them into very particular spots. So, in order to use these words, one must stand very near to them, which also precludes one from aligning oneself with other, more dist...

The firewood has arrived. Took a solid hour to stack it all, but now I've got wood for the winter, albeit somewhat damp wood, so starting fires isn't particularly easy. It is, however, very well worth it... the environment here is almost exactly as I like it, enjoying the sounds of the piano on some Wednesday evening, and the warmth of the fireplace. I procrastinated on getting the firewood, just as I do with many other things in life. It is time for a change or two! For the rest of you out there, a word of advice: recognize opportunities, and seize them.

Prof emailed back in response to the essay, posted earlier ( Thoughts on philosophy...) My post was an abridged version... the copy handed in was somewhat longer (+/- 500 words) ------------------------------------- I've just read through your piece "On Abelard and Philosophy," and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I thought it was well written -- and a balanced enough mix of personal essay and academic response to be simultaneously intellectually interesting but not accountable for academic argumentative or structural standards. Very Carlyle-ian. C+ (it was a solid A, but this becomes a C+ after the 25% late penalty deduction) ------------------------------------- *sigh* The grade was well deserved.

At about age 14, I was big into the multiplayer online version of Mechwarrior III. It was a great game.. basically an FPS, but you're inside the cockpit of a 40 foot tall "Mech" armed with various weapons and capabilities. The Mechs weren't all that unlike the two-legged giant mechanical dudes in the old Star Wars movies, except for that in this game, you had one of about 30 mechs to choose from, and dozens of weapons/customization schemes. Oh what a game it was, missiles, cannons, machine guns, lazers, even booster rockets for temporary flight. Play wasn't easy.. there were a LOT of things to control (movement, weapons, defensive stuff, radar and terrain, allied formations, etc).. just about every key on the keyboard had a function. I was good. Probably, a little too good (video game skill is inversely proportional to having a life, after all). I was accepted into the coveted "Iron" clan, each of whose members had a different name (Iron_Maiden, Iro...

Good and Evil Right and Wrong Poets dance Writers long Composers sing The same old song Movies play Emotions stray From options two few But they stay in hopes For something new

   that no matter where you look, you can always see your own nose? It goes unnoticed, simply as a matter of conditioning, the way a farmer doesn't notice the smell, when everybody else does.      But think about it, that nose in the bottom corner of your vision. I promise, the more you think about it, the more it will annoy the fuck out of you. 

"I preferred the weapons of the dialectic to all the other teachings of philosophy, and armed with these I chose the conflicts of disputation instead of the trophies of war." - Abelard (Historia Calamitatum, opening page) War metaphor was the way Abelard chose to express his passion for philosophy, and this method is still overwhelmingly common in public media of all sorts. Political candidates rally the troops, square off, bring in the cavalry, draw battle lines, use secret weapons, battle over constituencies, and become entrenched in conflicts over policy and ideas. Presumably most people prefer peace over violence when the option exists, and if this is the case, why is it that we so lovingly lap up visions of war when talking about the commonplace; everyday business; the mundane? The question answers itself; attention to a subject is captured by injecting into the subject exaggerated claims of urgency and grandeur. For a philosopher, whose subjects o...

Just a personal ramble... not particularly interesting to be honest! Today was one of the best and most 'comprehensive' days I've had in ages. It began with an early start, followed by 6 hours as a volunteer coordinator for a high school debate tourney, which was a load of fun and an intellectual stimulation. Afterward, off to a get-together with my mom's law firm, so I got to see mom and my baby sister, as well as scarf some delicious appetizers. The day continued with a break at home for dinner, then to winner-takes-all penny poker night with some friends, which I won! Then! We went out and watched naked ladies dancing around (strip club), while consuming alcohol; not too shabby... And finally, at the end of the evening, I gave a lost guy a lift home on the way back to my own house; a 'random act of kindness' to top it all off. Truly, the Earth has nary rotated once so satisfyingly. All I could think ask for is someone I love with whom to share t...

I was at a campus coffee shop this morning, and had decided to purchase a "chocolate with white chocolate chips muffin." Think black & white cookie, but in muffin form. I commented to the cashier that muffins aren't quite what they used to be, health-wise. A very pretty girl behind me in line said "yea, they're pretty much just cake these days." I replied: "then how are muffins any different than cupcakes?" "Well," said the girl, "it's just an ignorance thing. There is no actual difference, but who's really going to eat a 'cupcake' for breakfast?" Touche, hot girl! So, the logical extension of her thought is that "Muffin" and "Cupcake" are terms that denote when you are eating, and not so much what. "Breakfast" typically operates similarly, in that it doesn't so much define what you're eating, but when (in literal or relative terms, ie. in the morning,...

Feeling awkward yet? Let's denote for a moment, rather than connote. I'm fairly certain that everybody is pro-life, generally speaking. I'm also certain that we're all pro-choice, in a broad sense of the term. The reason that people of all stripes use these phrases in dialog to describe themselves, is that the phrases position them into moral favour by very definition: "Well, I'm pro choice, so anyone who disagrees with my stance on abortion is anti choice." Or, conversely, "I'm pro life, meaning that my naysayers must be anti life." And thus the trick has been played. According to the very terms of the debate I must either be anti life, or anti-choice! How can such a framing possibly end well? Perhaps it is the language itself that prevents consensus. Apply this to other words, and consider the ways they are often appropriated from their formerly amoral denotations and used as 'attack word...

From "Election": Jim: Paul, what is your favorite fruit? Paul: Pears. Jim: Okay, now... Paul: No wait! Apples. Jim: Great, now say that everyday you had an apple. An apple, an apple and more apples. You probably thought that apples were pretty good, even if you got a rotten one every once in awhile. Then one day there was an orange. Now you can choose, do you want an apple or do you want an orange? That's democracy. Paul: I also like bananas. Jim: Exactly!

I, and people near my age (early 20's) really did grow up alongside the word wide web. I remember being about 10, 'surfing' the web on dial-up with my father. The dial-up took forever, it made all those weird static and beeping sounds, and of course tied up the phone line. Any time I was online, and a person called, my internet would disconnect! Those were the days. Today, it has become something entirely different! More later.

"This scheme is bound to get me rich, and quick!" - Homer Simpson I intend to write an extremely popular non-fiction book. Ideas out of it may pop up in blogs here every so often, but I will not reveal the thesis or the 'whole' of it until it is completed and sent to publishers! Yes, I do have a thesis, sortof. Yes, I do have chapter ideas, and I'm just beginning chapter outlines and an introduction. It will begin at full steam when I graduate (though I will be planning it until then), and shall take me roughly one year to bring to fruition. By my 24th birthday (01/09) I shall be a retired man. But, more importantly, I will achieve my lifelong goal of appearing on The Daily Show and engaging in silly banter with Jon Stewart!

... to die of awkwardness? Well, if it were, the following scenario might come pretty close to that: I /can't stand/ purchasing condoms at the store. I don't know why, but every time I have to go buy them (which, ironically, isn't as often as I'd prefer), I fear it; standing at the counter while the cashier rings them in and gives me that smile... not quite the usual smile cashiers give you. So I go into Shoppers Drug Mart... my hope is to find the condoms and purchase them quickly via one of the many senile old women who seem to staff drug stores these days. But, as per usual, my luck turned horribly, horribly south. First, I couldn't find the things, as they'd been moved to a different part of the store, under the heading 'family planning.' They can't be over there, because condoms are the opposite of that, right? "That must be where the fertility drugs are," I figured. I asked an employee after several minutes, and was directed to the pr...