Deep Thought of the Day

And when you -do- finally show up his courage fails again and he drifts off to another night of frustrated, angry sleep hating you just a little more.

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42 <But what is the question?>

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Peas mean something

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In our family, they mean only my youngest and I are home for dinner, so I can make a comfort food taught to me by an ex-boyfriend (southern Italian) who said in his area it was the equivalent of mac & cheese to kids in the U.S.: digitali pasta with onions, garlic, peas, herbs, and lots of parmesan cheese.

Letā€™s just say peas are not a universal favorite in our family.

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If you study the logistics and heuristics of the mystics, you will find that their minds rarely move in a line.

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Your family has a bunch of war mongers who wont give peas a chance?

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I actually have one, courtesy of my unsystematic smattering of philosophy and theology instruction and hard cider (and promotional materials therefore).

So, ā€œOriginal Sinā€, despite its appropriation as being all about smokinā€™, apple-eating, seductresses wearing only reptiles and come-hither looks; concerned disobeying a divine command and appropriating the knowledge of good and evil(based the state of moral philosophy, apparently only those concepts, not so much on what actions go where. Or maybe that was included in the part of the fruit they didnā€™t have time to eatā€¦)

It always struck me as sort of curious that that particular single act of disobedience, and that particular target, were chosen as Such A Big Deal. Why not something more Prometheus-style, with a cool dual-use technology or something of that flavor?

A few pints later, it occurred to me: The Euthyphro dilemma is (quite arguably) the most brutal, incisive, and difficult-to-dismiss problem for divine command theories of morality. It would also be, quite literally, inconceivable, without the knowledge of good and evil. Once you have those concepts on the table, the Euthyphro dilemma is just waiting for you to stumble on it. Without those concepts, it isnā€™t comprehensible even if somebody points it out.

So, pure coincidence and/or evidence that ethanol adds false profundity to thoughts, or mythologized recognition that acquisition of ā€˜the knowledge of good and evilā€™ was not merely a single act of disobedience against a specific divine command; but an act that made divine command morality at best problematic and at worst absurd or even monstrous, permanently and in general?

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Since hashtag raids seem indistinguishable from IRC #chan raids, maybe gamergoat will convince people of the inherit limitations of centralized discussion (looking at you, twitter).

Stimulus:

Not quite drunk, but DAMN, Belgian-style beers sure can sneak up on a person. Delicious, sneaky 11% quadrupel brew!

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Do you even need Euthyphro, when: god created humans without a conscience, told them not to do something, then knowing they didnā€™t know right from wrong, punished them for disobedience? Thatā€™s pretty much the pinnacle of injustice.

Would you break an infantā€™s neck for crying? The story of the fall isnā€™t that ā€œEve fucked everything upā€. Itā€™s that ā€œgod knowingly and intentionally set humans up to fail, then got mad about humans failingā€.

From the very beginning, the Hebrew bible shows that their god isnā€™t worth worshiping even if it did exist.

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"Modern life, too, is often a mechanical oppression and liquor is the only mechanical relief.ā€

Donā€™t you drink? I notice you speak slightingly of the bottle. I have drunk since I was fifteen and few things have given me more pleasure. When you work hard all day with your head and know you must work again the next day what else can change your ideas and make them run on a different plane like whisky? When you are cold and wet what else can warm you? Before an attack who can say anything that gives you the momentary well-being that rum does?ā€¦ The only time it isnā€™t good for you is when you write or when you fight. You have to do that cold. But it always helps my shooting. Modern life, too, is often a mechanical oppression and liquor is the only mechanical relief.
ā€

  • Ernest Hemingway to Ivan Kashkin
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Its amazing how you can have such a fundamentalist interpretation of metaphor.

Itā€™s how I was taught. Otherwise it was the bamboo switch.

Besides, you can only get so far with the problem of evil. Sometimes itā€™s useful to point out that god never loved man, and just wanted to condemn humanity to suffer from the beginning. Donā€™t blame the childā€™s mistake, when the parent never gave the kid a chance.

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I. GIVE. UP! Every time I think of something witty/erudite/urbane/clever/intelligent (delete as appropriate) to say, some feckerā€™s already said it!:smiling_imp:

Not liking that. Iā€™d downvote it if I couldšŸ˜œ

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Itā€™s kinda like Jeopardy around here; mostly everybody knows the right answer, it just comes down to hitting the button at the right time.

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Arenā€™t you like, in hollywood? Cause Iā€™d pay money to see that as some kind of movie - itā€™s all about how the ghost canā€™t change clothes, only done seriously! You can come film it here in Atlanta and Iā€™ll be a terrible extra (like Pee Wee Herman in Pee Weeā€™s Big Adventure).

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I donā€™t know how seriously I could take it, itā€™s just so fundamentally absurd! But it fits right into my wordview, and the kinds of thoughts I had as I grew up that made me not afraid of monsters anymore. Just the day-to-day logistics of it all. I swear, when I saw Monsters, Inc. I knew that Pete Docter and his co-writers were spiritual soulmates of mine.

Just like with the tentacled monster-under-the-bed I mentioned upthread, Iā€™ve been fascinated by the mundane necessities of supernatural entities. There was an 8-page comic story published in the June 1983 issue of Epic Illustrated, written by Christopher Claremont and illustrated by John Bolton, entitled ā€œBusiness Hours: Monday Through Friday, 9 to 5.ā€ I found the whole story online a few years ago, but it doesnā€™t seem to be readily available now. Essentially itā€™s about a woman who comes home at the end of a long day to her dark empty home, and as she unlocks her door, sorts through her mail, and goes upstairs, she doesnā€™t notice that in nearly every frame sheā€™s being menaced by different kinds of monsters that juuust miss grabbing her. The phone rings, itā€™s a client who needs service right away, she tells them itā€™s seven oā€™clock on a Friday, business hours are 9 to 5, and he should get in touch on Monday. She goes upstairs, draws a bath, doesnā€™t see the werewolf in the tree outside her window or the weird scary caterpillar thing that crawls into her bathtub. And then she gets out of the tub, puts on a filmy negligee, and brushes her hair in the mirror as a huge, scaly, reptilian beast of some sort enters her room and comes up right behind her. Their eyes lock in the mirror. As she whirls around in horror, the beast speaks: ā€œJoanna Marlowe?ā€

Upon which she unloads on him: ā€œYou?!? Damnation and bloody hell, I told you on the phoneā€“and I meant itā€“business hours are Monday through Friday, nine to five!ā€ And she stands there, hands on hips, as the beast slinks back out the door.

I love that stuff. I think Iā€™d have a ball writing a movie thatā€™s all about the everyday headaches of being a menacing ghost or monster. Not played broadly for cheap laffs, but played much more drily and matter-of-fact, as if it were Darren Aronofskyā€™s Requiem for a Nightmare.

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I liked the handbook, waiting room, and case-worker (s) in Beetlejuice. Rules and Regulations.

ā€¦

When I was a wee nipper, my parents obtained a copy of Ghosts I Have Met, cc 1896, a collection of ghost stories, one of which had a nuisance of a haunter trapped in a hotel room against the walk by a powerful fan (room paid for for several years in advance). Physics, and whatnot. Not scary stories, were these. Oddly humorous.

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Dare say Iā€™ll get used to it eventually - still trying to get my head around the fact I ainā€™t been sat on the naughty step or banned.

I donā€™t like the vagaries, though, perhaps things could be made a little more specificā€¦? Like messages informing me Iā€™ve performed ā€œthat actionā€ too many times - WHAT action, FFSā€¦?! If Iā€™d known telepathy was a prerequisite for membership, Iā€™d not have bothered registering.

As Iā€™ve said before, my handle is what it is for good reason. I is not like any of you, nor anyone else on the planet. I attempt to get by through a combination of guesswork, imitation, and failure. Thereā€™s not a lot in this world which doesnā€™t terrify the living shit outta me. I go through life in a state of near-permanent terror (and I truly mean that, no hyperbole here).

There IS summat which would aid me greatly but, as you know, itā€™s illegal here, and liable to remain so thanks to the efforts of the Fail, CRUK and Big Pharma. The more reading - and researching - I do, the more convinced I become that CBD oil is the ONLY thing that will help me - and Iā€™ve never needed it more than I do now.

I apologise, I didnā€™t mean this to turn into a rant. Iā€™m sorryā€¦:pensive:

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Atwood knows when youā€™ve been sleeping
He knows when youā€™re awake
He knows whether youā€™ve performed ā€œthat actionā€ or not
So Be Good for Goodness Sake!

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