Realism

I am a confused realist. I think that there are concreta, material things which exist independent of our minds, and abstracta, ideas which are purely subjective. I think that properties, colour or texture or tone or taste, are subjective to the extent that they are mediated by the emergent 'thing' that is consciousness, and therefore abstracta. But I have some huge conceptual problems. Is consciousness itself abstract? And what about number? Obviously to the realist number is a property of concreta, but it is also a property of abstracta. One can imagine 'three different imaginary items'. It seems to me that number is both a simple property of concreta and a metaproperty of abstracta. But perhaps this is a category error. Perhaps number is a simple property of abstracta. Perhaps number is the only Platonic form. Any elucidation of these ramblings would be much appreciated.

Madeleine 'Birdbrain' Bunting

I was going to relentlessly expose the flaky theism that forms the backdrop for Madeleine Bunting's articles as the Guardian's Religious Affairs Editor. I was going to take her arguments and show how implicit in them is her commitment to a deity, and to dualism. I was going to show how her ill-informed criticisms of Dennett and Dawkins stem from her epistemological poverty and why she feels the need to cuddle up in bed with the halfbaked Michael Ruse. I even considered throwing her to the pack of atheist wolves at Pharyngula.I was going to whitter on about how this makes her about as interesting as a hatstand in programmes such as the Moral Maze, a programme I find increasingly childish. "Well, go on then.. " I hear you expostulate.

No, I shall not. If you have got this far then you know exactly what I mean and I need explain no further. I would be delighted to hear why one should take seriously anything arising from a mind able to accommodate such a hopelessly incoherent philosophy.

Existential Rollercoaster

This morning I heard an interview with Shabina Begum on the Today programme. I heard this smug young woman pontificate on how her 'religious' convictions ought to trump the social norm of a Luton school in which more than 50% of pupils were her co-religionists - holier than thou or what? Cherie Blair, the slack minded tree hugger, acted for this middle class tart - ad hominems I know but tell me why they are not thoroughly deserved by those prepared to suck at the public teat whilst stabbing all but their special interest clients in the heart?
Later in the day I read in the Times that the lords had overturned the appeal court ruling in favour of miss Begum. Wunderbar! Magnifique! How enlightened are their Lordships?

Later still, in the Guardian, I come across this..
"Lord Bingham said any sincere religious belief such as that held by Shabina must command respect, particularly when derived from an ancient and respected religion."

Why? Why should a sincere belief in Odin command respect? Must the believer be permitted to carry a pet Raven on their shoulder as part of the 'school uniform'? What is wrong with these people? Why can't they see the consequences of permitting 'sincerity' to trump objective evidence? My head hurts.

Laughter

I don't know whether my sense of humour is at all unusual, but why is the world not hammering on this person's door? I haven't been so amused since reading about the Sacred Kumquats of Miriam on H2G2; and that was long away and far ago.

Great Questions

"Why" I hear you cry "oh, why have you neglected us so?" Well, my desultory reader, it is because we have been living the high, err.. slightly higher.. life in wintery Wales.
I climbed Cader Idris for the second time, in good company, and avoided my agoraphobic terror courtesy of 100% cloud cover on the summit. It was very much like this.. We stayed at a wonderful house called Ty Mawr and I hope to post our own bamboozled images of the weekend quite soon.
And on the subject of large, if not great questions, I made the error of mentally tuning in to this on the today programme. How Giles Fraser is permitted to lecture in Philosophy is a mystery to me. I suspect it is a mystery to him too; although he seems to be having some trouble in separating the supernatural and the natural. In fact, unless my understanding of my native tongue has been totally subverted, he seemed this morning to be suggesting that christianity (his interpretation) should insist that there is no distinction. God, in the form of Jesus, acted on Earth. There is a huge metaphysical problem here - or there is for Giles Fraser. How can the physical and the non-physical interact? What is the mechanism? What predictions can one make? If one permits divine intervention then none of us have free will, of any kind. Is the Rev Fraser a Calvinist?

Earth Shaking Poetic Confession..

I have felt, since my late teens, some affinity with poets; and have written some execrable poetry. That is no reason why you should be spared and, anyway, this is probbly the best poem what I 'ave wrote for years. Go easy on the plaudits - I might have a Withnail heart...

Integrity

Drink your wine son, drink it down
You’ll never need to chance
Your insulated self-obsessed
Persona at the disco

Dance your life son, dance along
You’ll never need to stop
To think, to doubt, to introspect
What gets you to the

Top your truth son, cut it down
All ideas are one
Shit’s as good as beans on toast
When love for truth has gone.

MacCavity, MacCavity..

The dentist filled my cavity.. well, four of them actually - root canal cavities. We are now £200 lighter, but I have to say that it is money well spent. At least I will be able to enjoy the cuisine and fine wines which beckon us to Wales this coming weekend, isn't it? This will be the first elevensome holiday, Andy and Carol Greggs being new victims in our ever expanding middle-aged self-abuse society. Both are more than capable of playing silly games into the wee small hours and soaking up stupendous quantities of disguised ethanol. Oh my aching liver.
For some odd reason my lap is this evening occupied by the Zagglepuss, small fluffy stray whom we kid ourselves is not really part of the family, just a frequent diner and non-paying lodger. She evidently thinks otherwise. The Boofies are curled up on a duvet next to the radiator. The small grey Boofy has been practicing for the England Olympic Feline Gourmande event, three suppers so far this evening. I am very hopeful that she may be eating for two, or three, or four, or five....
There, that silly title eventually got around to W.H.Auden's poem.

Pet Loves - and Hates

I had every intention of refraining from bloggage (Fr. blogging) this evening, but for many reasons my determination is rendered dentally lacking. Firstly, I have been subjected to two bottles of genuinely decent SA plonk; or perhaps one mediocre and one decent, but this second, a Nederburg Shiraz Pinotage, is sublime. Secondly, .. oh bless me, I've forgotten.

Ten minutes later..

Ahhh yes, the vino is one of my pet loves. So what, you cry eagerly, is your tin of walnuts? No, no, no; what is your pet hate, you eagerly cry. Well, since you ask, 'tis this. Transcendence
In my booze befuddled state I read this essay by Vaclav Havel - a poet, so I have heard - and the more I read, and reread, the more I realised that my existing distrust of that most weaselish word, transcendence, is thoroughly justified. It boils down to this, Dear Heart; that which transcends human reason is... errr... unreasonable.

Boofymum

At this very moment I have Topaz (Artro Blue Topaz - Showday name) on my lap. She has just been rather inconsiderately handled because we desperately want to know if she is with kittens. Or rather - we want some evidence to inform our decisions as to her care over the next few weeks. The whole process of encouraging reproduction in Topaz is epistemologically enlightening. We are novice cat breeders. Those parts of our conceptual web(s) concerned with cat breeding would at first pass seem to be almost completely formed from arguments from testament; to whit "Janet is reputedly a very successful breeder and says ...". Taking a Quinean view in its broadest sense helps me to see things in what I personally consider the most useful way, but only if I subscribe to a materialistic view that accepts the premise that memories are physical, or energetic, representations of real events; and perhaps consequently that dreams are distorted or synthesised views of real events. It seems to me that Russell's argument about a universe created a moment ago must be set aside as axiomatically useless. I am all for skepticism, but only to the point where it renders decision making difficult rather than impossible. To come back to Earth - it seems to Max and I that Topaz has more prominent nipples now than she had a week ago. We remember both testamentary and sensory evidence that she has had a romantic dalliance and that such doings often lead to pregnancy, and that Janet told us that prominent nipples in a female moggie are a sign of pregnancy. Are we warranted in thinking she is probably with kittens?