"I finished Eli Weisel's Night and I was kind of disappointed with the end. I think his father should have lived. He should have finished it off on a lighter note, you know, with a happy ending".
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
This Week in Ethics: James Tries to be a Good Person.
As an ethicist (fine, a student philosopher who specializes in ethics), I've been learning a lot lately about some crazy moral theories and thinking deeply about how bad a person I really am. I think the same goes for a lot of people who want to be good people but when given the choices, will usually come out looking like a total dicks. Those who know me probably know that this is especially true. Anyways, I've been examining my lifestyle and thinking of ways that I can apply modern theories of ethics. I could go the utilitarian path where I examine every situation, figure out which action would maximize happiness, and then do that; or I could go all Kantian on your ass and just follow the categorical imperative where you just don't do stuff that you wouldn't want to make a universal rule; or I could be all contractarian where I'm self-interested to the point where I feel the need to support everyone else.
I was gonna do a thing where I was going to adopt a moral principle for like a week and see if it made me feel better about myself and then report back here. Then I realized something:
All of these things are really hard to do:
Utilitarians have to examine every action. And I thought I was indecisive now. (And don't bring up rule utilitarianism because when you have to make exceptions to rules, it all boils down to act utilitarianism anyways). Otherwise, I think it would be very nice to be a utilitarian. If it weren't for John Stewart Mill's higher-order pleasures, I'd be justified in just rooting around in my own filth, masturbating on things all day. But no, I have to read Shakespeare and help people and shit. Screw that.
Kant's categorical imperative is really simple but it also puts a ban on anything that covers your ass, i.e. lying. That's right, it's never right to lie, even to save your life or that of anyone else. Remember the movie Liar, Liar with Jim Carrey? If I followed Kant's categorical imperative, my life would become a really shitty movie. Also, even if I was going to be a good person for a week, the fact that I couldn't lie (Kant claims that withholding the truth counts) would mean that all my past indiscretions would catch up to me. I mean, technically I'd be supremely moral, but I'd also be living a very sad and lonely life (maybe? If you're wondering what I could be, I haven't really done anything wrong, but my past is full of shame).
![Cover of "Liar Liar [HD DVD]"](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_vdMfY2JzZbxnoHfY-s4FB8e-ewn2Y8zGnIxSy9ru3Hv15C6hWiRuf0YhYG2OCCBJxfTcahBM5u1bLWmqu99pJsJnUSQFkXX-d0AnHmIM4j1SAqNJ7OG45YSvr9bCtCWQ=s0-d)
Cover of Liar Liar [HD DVD]
Immanuel Kant clearly wanted your life to be the plot of this god-awful movie. ---->
Deontology is therefore clearly the wrong ethical theory. Not only would your life be a never-ending series of predictable gags that an observer could only watch stoned, but they'd also have to own an HD DVD player. Oh the shame...
Contractarianism has one serious flaw: other people have to be entered into the contract. Hard to test that out. I'd be like, "I want to maximize my self-interest while acting morally. Wanna join me?" and the guy on the train would be like "fuck off buddy, you're creeping me out". It just wouldn't work.
Anyways, what I was originally trying to get at was that I am a fairly terrible person when it comes to following my moral duties. I haven't got a God to fear, and yet I still feel guilty. How strange... I think that I feel like I need to be a good person in order for my life to have meaning. Maybe I've been reading way too much Plato, but I feel like justice is an incredibly important component in the meaning of our short, mundane lives. A huge part of justice and being a just person is doing right by everyone. That's simply something that I desperately need to work on.
I want to be ethical but at the same time, I also love pirating music and software. I am also fairly sure that I'm not very effective at maximizing utility. And I really can't justify not giving most of my stuff away to needy people if I truly want to be a good person. What's more is that I lie all the time to people. Usually ones that I don't know. For example, when that guy at the bus terminal tells me about his church and invites me to his holy Jesus picnic, I nod my head and pretend to be interested. That is technically lying. It's just impossible to avoid the white lie if you want to seem to be a nice person. Every time that you lie, you undermine the institution of truth-telling, you inconsiderate asshole. Think about it.
Anyways, it's late and I didn't really think this post through. I'll update you on how the whole being a better person thing is going.
I was gonna do a thing where I was going to adopt a moral principle for like a week and see if it made me feel better about myself and then report back here. Then I realized something:
All of these things are really hard to do:
Utilitarians have to examine every action. And I thought I was indecisive now. (And don't bring up rule utilitarianism because when you have to make exceptions to rules, it all boils down to act utilitarianism anyways). Otherwise, I think it would be very nice to be a utilitarian. If it weren't for John Stewart Mill's higher-order pleasures, I'd be justified in just rooting around in my own filth, masturbating on things all day. But no, I have to read Shakespeare and help people and shit. Screw that.
Kant's categorical imperative is really simple but it also puts a ban on anything that covers your ass, i.e. lying. That's right, it's never right to lie, even to save your life or that of anyone else. Remember the movie Liar, Liar with Jim Carrey? If I followed Kant's categorical imperative, my life would become a really shitty movie. Also, even if I was going to be a good person for a week, the fact that I couldn't lie (Kant claims that withholding the truth counts) would mean that all my past indiscretions would catch up to me. I mean, technically I'd be supremely moral, but I'd also be living a very sad and lonely life (maybe? If you're wondering what I could be, I haven't really done anything wrong, but my past is full of shame).
Cover of Liar Liar [HD DVD]Immanuel Kant clearly wanted your life to be the plot of this god-awful movie. ---->
Deontology is therefore clearly the wrong ethical theory. Not only would your life be a never-ending series of predictable gags that an observer could only watch stoned, but they'd also have to own an HD DVD player. Oh the shame...
Contractarianism has one serious flaw: other people have to be entered into the contract. Hard to test that out. I'd be like, "I want to maximize my self-interest while acting morally. Wanna join me?" and the guy on the train would be like "fuck off buddy, you're creeping me out". It just wouldn't work.
Anyways, what I was originally trying to get at was that I am a fairly terrible person when it comes to following my moral duties. I haven't got a God to fear, and yet I still feel guilty. How strange... I think that I feel like I need to be a good person in order for my life to have meaning. Maybe I've been reading way too much Plato, but I feel like justice is an incredibly important component in the meaning of our short, mundane lives. A huge part of justice and being a just person is doing right by everyone. That's simply something that I desperately need to work on.
I want to be ethical but at the same time, I also love pirating music and software. I am also fairly sure that I'm not very effective at maximizing utility. And I really can't justify not giving most of my stuff away to needy people if I truly want to be a good person. What's more is that I lie all the time to people. Usually ones that I don't know. For example, when that guy at the bus terminal tells me about his church and invites me to his holy Jesus picnic, I nod my head and pretend to be interested. That is technically lying. It's just impossible to avoid the white lie if you want to seem to be a nice person. Every time that you lie, you undermine the institution of truth-telling, you inconsiderate asshole. Think about it.
Anyways, it's late and I didn't really think this post through. I'll update you on how the whole being a better person thing is going.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
20 years old - Another Year Older, Another Year Closer to Death.
And I still can't rent a car.
Today is my 20th birthday. I used to get excited by my birthday but I've noticed the past couple of years that it's gotten pretty unexciting. A birthday nowadays is more or less an excuse to get completely wasted. As fun as that is, the consequence of getting a year older is that every year seems less and less important. There's a reason that time seems to go by faster and faster the older that you get. The more time you spend alive, the shorter a year is in relative terms. Man, when I turned 7, that was a big deal. Know why? Because a year was 14% of my life. Now a year only constitutes 5% of my life. That's barely significant at all. Every year that we tack on, the shorter a year gets in relative terms. Is it weird for me to be scared that I'm gonna wake up one day soon and realize that I'm 82? Nobody wants to be 82. That would suck.
A mostly unrelated picture that makes me smile. ---------->>>
Fuck off, it's my birthday. I'll put an unrelated picture if I want to.
Anyways, I just felt like complaining about something that everyone goes through and nobody can change. It's my party and I'll complain if I want to. Just saying, life is really fucking short. Every moment is very fleeting and it gets more fleeting the further along you go. I'll write a blog sometime soon about the nature of time. In the meantime, I'm going to work on the massive post that I keep promising and haven't finished. Not that anyone really cares if I keep my promise or not...
Also, here's a picture of an adorable kitty.
UPDATE: Earlier I mistakenly wrote that 1/20 is equal to 0.5. This is entirely incorrect. A year in the life of a 20 year-old is actually equal to 5%. But one day, when I turn 200, it'll be equal to 0.5. With medical technology, I don't think that's entirely unreasonable.
Today is my 20th birthday. I used to get excited by my birthday but I've noticed the past couple of years that it's gotten pretty unexciting. A birthday nowadays is more or less an excuse to get completely wasted. As fun as that is, the consequence of getting a year older is that every year seems less and less important. There's a reason that time seems to go by faster and faster the older that you get. The more time you spend alive, the shorter a year is in relative terms. Man, when I turned 7, that was a big deal. Know why? Because a year was 14% of my life. Now a year only constitutes 5% of my life. That's barely significant at all. Every year that we tack on, the shorter a year gets in relative terms. Is it weird for me to be scared that I'm gonna wake up one day soon and realize that I'm 82? Nobody wants to be 82. That would suck.
A mostly unrelated picture that makes me smile. ---------->>>
Fuck off, it's my birthday. I'll put an unrelated picture if I want to.
Anyways, I just felt like complaining about something that everyone goes through and nobody can change. It's my party and I'll complain if I want to. Just saying, life is really fucking short. Every moment is very fleeting and it gets more fleeting the further along you go. I'll write a blog sometime soon about the nature of time. In the meantime, I'm going to work on the massive post that I keep promising and haven't finished. Not that anyone really cares if I keep my promise or not...
Also, here's a picture of an adorable kitty.
UPDATE: Earlier I mistakenly wrote that 1/20 is equal to 0.5. This is entirely incorrect. A year in the life of a 20 year-old is actually equal to 5%. But one day, when I turn 200, it'll be equal to 0.5. With medical technology, I don't think that's entirely unreasonable.
My Psychoactive Experience
This post is dedicated to Josh Kay. Thanks for cleaning up the vomit man.
Almost two years ago I had a crazy psychoactive experience. So everyone knows, I have never done any hallucinogenic drugs.
It was 2009 and I had just made a delicious salad at my now ex-girlfriend's house. I put on some ranch dressing and gobbled down my food quickly as I always do. When it comes to eating for me, it's shoot first, ask questions later. After eating this bowl of salad, I was bored waiting for my ex to finish her own food so I read the ingredients and other written facts on the back of the bottle. There, on the lid, clearly labeled, were the words - best before 07.05. Yes, you read that correct, 2005. As in the dressing was expired for 4 years. My ex's grandmother had a habit of holding on to old things. At the time I didn't feel sick so I didn't worry much about it. I knew it was a bad thing to eat expired salad dressing but I didn't quite grasp how bad.
A few hours later I was sitting around my friend's garage as I always did, just shooting the shit and you know, doing things that people who are unemployed (or employed part-time as I was), and not in school do for fun. All of the sudden, everyone's voice got distant and my head ached terribly. I closed my eyes to reduce the light sensitivity as all of the colours seemed to get more vibrant. With my eyes closed, and light shining through my eyelids, the hallucinations began. I got flashes of strange shapes and colours that seem strangely familiar, reminding me somehow of my childhood. The room started spinning and upon opening my eyes, all of the room was filled with these indescribable apparitions. My friends had no idea what's going on with me, I just seemed off in my own world. I closed my eyes again and felt like I was spinning around in a roller chair. It's then that I started to feel sick to my stomach and the hallucinations go from bad to worse. The products of my cubist painting world seem to be tormenting me. I felt like I was going to die.
My field of vision kinda looked like this -->
I got up because-as I exclaimed, "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" and I ran outside where I puked all over my friend's grass. The vomiting went on for a good while until all of the contents of my stomach spilled onto the grass. You know when you burp and you can taste the hot dog you had two days ago? Ever puke and see the hot dog you had two days ago? I did. Disgustingness aside, vomiting completely cleared my mind. That's how I knew such an experience was due to the dressing and not due to any other substances I may or may not have inhaled that night. I have not had a psychoactive experience since then but just tonight I was reminiscing about it and decided to search the internet for anyone having that same experience as me from ingesting salad dressing. The search turned up nothing. It seems that there is nobody else dumb enough to eat salad dressing that expired. In fact, from the search, I have learned that I might be lucky to have survived the experience. Eating dressing even a couple months expired can give you very bad food poisoning that in some cases leads to death. This is especially true with creamy dressings that are made with milk products. Mold grows well in those products. I think that the dressing was so expired that my body rejected it hard core, maybe saving my life.
Anyways, that was my experience with hallucinogens. Doing some research, the effects I felt are similar to the effects felt by people on mescaline. So in a way, I've kinda done peyote. If anyone else has eaten expired salad dressing and hallucinated, please let me know. I wanna know if it's just me.
Also, I sincerely apologize, followers. Not just for this pointless post, but for having been gone so long, and having promised a monster post on facebook. It's in the process. I promise. Should be up tomorrow as I finish writing on the train. It comes with a new gimick...ahem...I mean...segment. Look forward to it. But not too much. Don't want your expectations to get too high.
Almost two years ago I had a crazy psychoactive experience. So everyone knows, I have never done any hallucinogenic drugs.
It was 2009 and I had just made a delicious salad at my now ex-girlfriend's house. I put on some ranch dressing and gobbled down my food quickly as I always do. When it comes to eating for me, it's shoot first, ask questions later. After eating this bowl of salad, I was bored waiting for my ex to finish her own food so I read the ingredients and other written facts on the back of the bottle. There, on the lid, clearly labeled, were the words - best before 07.05. Yes, you read that correct, 2005. As in the dressing was expired for 4 years. My ex's grandmother had a habit of holding on to old things. At the time I didn't feel sick so I didn't worry much about it. I knew it was a bad thing to eat expired salad dressing but I didn't quite grasp how bad.
A few hours later I was sitting around my friend's garage as I always did, just shooting the shit and you know, doing things that people who are unemployed (or employed part-time as I was), and not in school do for fun. All of the sudden, everyone's voice got distant and my head ached terribly. I closed my eyes to reduce the light sensitivity as all of the colours seemed to get more vibrant. With my eyes closed, and light shining through my eyelids, the hallucinations began. I got flashes of strange shapes and colours that seem strangely familiar, reminding me somehow of my childhood. The room started spinning and upon opening my eyes, all of the room was filled with these indescribable apparitions. My friends had no idea what's going on with me, I just seemed off in my own world. I closed my eyes again and felt like I was spinning around in a roller chair. It's then that I started to feel sick to my stomach and the hallucinations go from bad to worse. The products of my cubist painting world seem to be tormenting me. I felt like I was going to die.
My field of vision kinda looked like this -->
I got up because-as I exclaimed, "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" and I ran outside where I puked all over my friend's grass. The vomiting went on for a good while until all of the contents of my stomach spilled onto the grass. You know when you burp and you can taste the hot dog you had two days ago? Ever puke and see the hot dog you had two days ago? I did. Disgustingness aside, vomiting completely cleared my mind. That's how I knew such an experience was due to the dressing and not due to any other substances I may or may not have inhaled that night. I have not had a psychoactive experience since then but just tonight I was reminiscing about it and decided to search the internet for anyone having that same experience as me from ingesting salad dressing. The search turned up nothing. It seems that there is nobody else dumb enough to eat salad dressing that expired. In fact, from the search, I have learned that I might be lucky to have survived the experience. Eating dressing even a couple months expired can give you very bad food poisoning that in some cases leads to death. This is especially true with creamy dressings that are made with milk products. Mold grows well in those products. I think that the dressing was so expired that my body rejected it hard core, maybe saving my life.
Anyways, that was my experience with hallucinogens. Doing some research, the effects I felt are similar to the effects felt by people on mescaline. So in a way, I've kinda done peyote. If anyone else has eaten expired salad dressing and hallucinated, please let me know. I wanna know if it's just me.
Also, I sincerely apologize, followers. Not just for this pointless post, but for having been gone so long, and having promised a monster post on facebook. It's in the process. I promise. Should be up tomorrow as I finish writing on the train. It comes with a new gimick...ahem...I mean...segment. Look forward to it. But not too much. Don't want your expectations to get too high.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Dear Blog Readers,
I just moved out to a new place in Ottawa and I'm just getting settled in, trying to find a job and attempting to build copious amounts of Ikea furniture... damn Swedes with their fantastically priced pieces of wood and metal that one day will look like a sofa bed...
Anyways, I figured I should let my loyal followers know what's up. I plan on posting much in the near future so please stay tuned. Unfortunately, since I am no longer living with my brother, I'm looking for something to fill the void left over from the Chris Murray Quote of the Week. Also, as I promised all of my former colleagues at the Laser emporium, there will be a formal goodbye letter and kick-ass poem waiting for you as soon as I have the time to write it. Also, as soon as I catch up with current affairs, I'll write on some sort of controversial issue.
Thanks for keeping yourself updated.
Anyways, I figured I should let my loyal followers know what's up. I plan on posting much in the near future so please stay tuned. Unfortunately, since I am no longer living with my brother, I'm looking for something to fill the void left over from the Chris Murray Quote of the Week. Also, as I promised all of my former colleagues at the Laser emporium, there will be a formal goodbye letter and kick-ass poem waiting for you as soon as I have the time to write it. Also, as soon as I catch up with current affairs, I'll write on some sort of controversial issue.
Thanks for keeping yourself updated.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Chris Murray Quote of the Week: August 16/10
About playing baseball in gym class:
"I hit it right back up the middle and hit my supply teacher in the stomach. I kinda felt bad for running to first."
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Who the Hell is in There?: The Vader-Fett Complex
If I wasn't nerdy enough before, this will do it. Those of you who know me probably know that I'm a huge fan of Star Wars. There's something about the original trilogy and the lore surrounding the Star Wars universe that I can't quite explain, but I just love it. Anyways, I watch the original trilogy quite often (and the new ones from time to time to give me a laugh or a Jar Jar Binks drinking game), and it came to my attention that although we know the voice actors of some of the greatest villains of all time, pretty much nobody knows who the people are inside the costumes. I mean, Darth Vader, voiced by James Earl Jones is probably one of the most well-known characters in all of North American pop culture. And for some reason, despite his meager number of appearances and I'm pretty sure only 3 lines in the whole series, Boba Fett is also one of the most recognizable characters. He has a cult following of sorts.
What I'm trying to get at is that it would kind of suck to be the guy in the Darth Vader or Boba Fett costume. First of all, the pay for an on-screen actor with no lines is really shitty. I mean, you can pretty much be replaced by anyone who has the same build. But the fact is, you're in one of the most influential film series of all time and you're in all of these awesome scenes and nobody except maybe your mom knows that it's you. It might be cool to be able to say to yourself, "Wow, I'm fuckin' Darth Vader." but when you go to tell other people, nobody would believe you. And it isn't even the same as with R2-D2 or C-3PO, or Chewbacca. The guy inside C-3PO at least does the voice, and you can at least believe it when a 7-foot tall guy tells you that he's Chewbacca or a little person tells you that they're R2-D2. But poor Darth Vader and Boba Fett. Forced to
live life in anonymity, their place in history completely unknown. Why does this bother me so much? That's a good question. 
Image via Wikipedia
Anyways, I went and looked up who the fellows in the costumes are, and this post is dedicated to them - English bodybuilder David Prowse (Right) as Darth Vader, and Jeremy Bulloch (Left) as Boba Fett.
May the force be with you guys... always.
What I'm trying to get at is that it would kind of suck to be the guy in the Darth Vader or Boba Fett costume. First of all, the pay for an on-screen actor with no lines is really shitty. I mean, you can pretty much be replaced by anyone who has the same build. But the fact is, you're in one of the most influential film series of all time and you're in all of these awesome scenes and nobody except maybe your mom knows that it's you. It might be cool to be able to say to yourself, "Wow, I'm fuckin' Darth Vader." but when you go to tell other people, nobody would believe you. And it isn't even the same as with R2-D2 or C-3PO, or Chewbacca. The guy inside C-3PO at least does the voice, and you can at least believe it when a 7-foot tall guy tells you that he's Chewbacca or a little person tells you that they're R2-D2. But poor Darth Vader and Boba Fett. Forced to
live life in anonymity, their place in history completely unknown. Why does this bother me so much? That's a good question. 
Image via WikipediaAnyways, I went and looked up who the fellows in the costumes are, and this post is dedicated to them - English bodybuilder David Prowse (Right) as Darth Vader, and Jeremy Bulloch (Left) as Boba Fett.
May the force be with you guys... always.
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