On Learning to Keep My Mouth Shut
I had dinner with my twelve-year-old daughter alone last night. She’s the size of a ten-year-old, so it still surprises me when she says enlightened things. She told me there are things she can barely stand to think about because she can’t figure them out, like the concepts of forever and nothing. As she gloriously described her thoughts from contemplating these ideas, I tried to contain my excitement, but she was on to me. We talked about ’what is one?’ and nihilism and philosophers. We discussed the world’s responses to these ideas and conversely, the Bible’s answers to the same questions. And we talked about an individual’s response, as well. Finally, I said the dreaded words to her: “Child, you will be studying philosophy this year.” As her eyes started their journey to the back of her head, I stopped her and declared, “No! This will be fun! Engaging! Interesting!”No, it really...
Lessons from NY Philosophers, A Tale of Getting My Ass Kicked Part 1
I recently went to a philosophy discussion here in Rochester, New York centering around an introductory reading on Eastern philosophy. When my turn came to summarize my impression of the reading I mentioned the Computational Universe. Against my better judgment, I might add. This was a mistake. They play rough here in New York, rougher than in Minnesota at least. If you need any proof of this I refer you to the drivers. It’s no surprise then that when I mentioned the Computational Universe and their ears perked up they expected me to elaborate and justify what I was talking about. This I was unable to do and so spent the next several minutes trying to defend myself from a fully justified onslaught on my position. An onslaught I might well have been spared back in Minnesota. I couldn’t solidly defend my idea largely because the idea was more a feeling than an idea. More specifically,...
Short Story Contest Entry -- "When The Devil Stole The Bowler's Bride" By Sean Valdrow
When the Devil Stole the Bowler’s Bride A long time ago, in a land far away, a common tradesman’s bride vanishes on the day of their wedding. He must use all his wits to find her and risk everything to win her back. “Your bride’s stolen,” said innkeeper Farnham. Aelfric Bowler’s left leg ceased pumping automatically at the pole-lathe’s pedal-lever, which pulled the leather thong looped around the workpiece, turning it. His sharp bowl-maker’s gouging tool had cut long worm-like streamers of wet green alder which piled at his feet. He stood upright and stared into the dark recesses of his stone-walled workshop. Bowler’s mongrel dog, Rip, looked up from where he lay in the sun by the road. No man expects to hear such words on his wedding day. He turned to innkeeper Farnham, pointing his bowl gouge at him. “Where was she last?” he queried, his tone indicated he’d...
Competitive Democracy and Community Democracy
Democracy is currently a competitive sport. It has teams, rules, and goals. It's winner-take-all, so the stakes are high. In many ways, sports are domesticated variant of warfare. Being a child branch, a competitive sport inherits many characteristics of its martial parent, especially in the case of competition-based democracy, i.e., where candidates compete.But democracy is not all about warfare, either. It has its own ideals that are purpose-built: o Consent of the governed o Representative government o One man, one vote o Equality and fairnesso Freedom of choiceThese ideals are attractive goals; but these goals are factually unobtainable in a competitive democracy, and therefore are entirely belief-driven. In other words, they smack of the polar opposite attractant of war, which is utopia. But enough about platitudes and belief systems, because these ideals can indeed be realized....
RIchard and Ophelia Go to Vegas
There he was; hung over, naked, spooning a woman and palming her very large breast. Given the size of the cupping, he was immediately aware that it was not Hayley he was pressed up against. They were lying on the floor of a Las Vegas Penthouse suite and the events that led to here were a blur. Oh, and he had on his wedding ring. He removed his hand from her boob and found her hand. That’s where he found Hayley’s ring. And suddenly he knew with whom he was in flagrante delicto. “Oh shit.” He felt her stir. And when she turned around, they were both thinking the exact same thing."WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?"This story is a little more adult than I normally post on my website. When I originally wrote it, there was a scene that was a lot more graphic. I thought about editing that scene down to nothing, but as I rewrote it, I couldn't help but have more fun with it. And the truth is...
The Problem with Data is the Datum
Data, as we all know, has become this thing where everyone accepts the data as fact.What no one ever seems to do is question those inputting the datum. If it is AI, well, it is artificial, and I will leave that right where it belongs; it is artificial. Please do not make me define that word, less to state it is unnaturally manufactured by its definition, in a word, fake.If it is a human entering the datum, it gets manipulated to give the individual's desired outcome. This has been proven time and time again.So, where does this leave us, and what is the point?It leaves us in a state of turmoil right where the Control Freaks controlling the data and the datum want us; that's the point.Prove me wrong.
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