(C'mon Hollywood!)
No more waiting on them
As you rise inside new rooms
It's official, you've gone,
You could live for no one
Else man, the guilt must be huge
There's no pain in failure
You succeed at being mine yeah,
Old friend, see you there
I will be proud from afar
I can paint a picture in a moment
Of memories, and there are many left
I am extradited
Uninvited
(Yeah, C'mon!)
It's just another Saturday
Take a step to freedom
You and her loathing
This cruel world
Take a breath of shelter
Then exhale trust and allegiance
Liberate yourself from hell
It's just another Saturday
It's just another Saturday
(Let's Go!
C'mon Dude!
C'mon!
There you go fucker!)
(Goddamn Hollywood, Thanks very much.)
~Lagwagon, May 16th
(Taken from Live in a Dive)
Monday, May 16, 2005
Saturday, May 14, 2005
GRE Practice
Prompt:
The concept of free will is a fallacy. Many actions are not the product of choice and thus people should not be held responsible for them.
My response:
The above argument makes several bald assertions concerning free will and responsibility. It basically states that, since there is no free will, people cannot be held responsible for their actions (because they are merely "pawns" in a predestined world, one would guess). The statement assumes that if there is no free will, then there is no will at all, and only with will can one claim responsibility. The statement does make a good point against the argument for free will, because it states that, "[m]any actions are not the product of choice..." which is true. But to conclude from that reason that people cannot be held responsible for their actions is a fallacy in itself.
It is true that many actions are not the product of choice, and the situations we encounter are sometimes beyond our control. Take, for instance, the recent tsunami disaster in South East Asia. I doubt anyone willed such an event to occur, and the aftermath--the lives lost, the destruction, the disease, and the famine--certainly was beyond any person's control. Even on an individual scale, there are actions that are performed by people that they do not control. There are reflexes that just occur when stimulated, there is the need to evacuate one's bowels, gas, and hunger. Even breathing is not necessarily controlled by will. From the grand-scale tsunami to the individual breath, there are a wide array of actions that are not a product of choice, which would make a case against free will. It does not follow from this that man is not responsible for his actions.
Man is responsible for his actions, because, although he might not have free will, he does have a will. And while this will is bonded with destiny, it does not exclude man from taking responsibility for his actions. Returnng to the tsunami example of the previous paragraph, once the tsunami had ravaged South East Asia, people's reactions to the tsunami were governed by their wills. Whether one chose to help reconstruct ravaged homes, donate money, or completely ignore the problem, one needed a will to react, and hence one must take responsibility for the action. Even on the individual level, while being hungry, breathing, and evacuating one's bowels are things that the individual does not necessarily control, the will can choose whether one eats, whether one continues breathing, or when one needs to relieve oneself. Hence every action, whether chosen are not, can be taken into account because man does have a will, even though it is not a free will.
The argument above makes a good point about free will--it is a fallacy. There are so many actions that we cannot control. However, the argument automatically assumes that if there is no free will, then there is no will at all, and hence, no responsibility. This is not true. Man does have a will to choose how to react to situations that are beyond his control, and hence he must be held responsible for how he reacts. While he may not have a free will, it does not mean that he has no will at all.
*****
Something tells me I'm going to do very poorly on the GRE.
The concept of free will is a fallacy. Many actions are not the product of choice and thus people should not be held responsible for them.
My response:
The above argument makes several bald assertions concerning free will and responsibility. It basically states that, since there is no free will, people cannot be held responsible for their actions (because they are merely "pawns" in a predestined world, one would guess). The statement assumes that if there is no free will, then there is no will at all, and only with will can one claim responsibility. The statement does make a good point against the argument for free will, because it states that, "[m]any actions are not the product of choice..." which is true. But to conclude from that reason that people cannot be held responsible for their actions is a fallacy in itself.
It is true that many actions are not the product of choice, and the situations we encounter are sometimes beyond our control. Take, for instance, the recent tsunami disaster in South East Asia. I doubt anyone willed such an event to occur, and the aftermath--the lives lost, the destruction, the disease, and the famine--certainly was beyond any person's control. Even on an individual scale, there are actions that are performed by people that they do not control. There are reflexes that just occur when stimulated, there is the need to evacuate one's bowels, gas, and hunger. Even breathing is not necessarily controlled by will. From the grand-scale tsunami to the individual breath, there are a wide array of actions that are not a product of choice, which would make a case against free will. It does not follow from this that man is not responsible for his actions.
Man is responsible for his actions, because, although he might not have free will, he does have a will. And while this will is bonded with destiny, it does not exclude man from taking responsibility for his actions. Returnng to the tsunami example of the previous paragraph, once the tsunami had ravaged South East Asia, people's reactions to the tsunami were governed by their wills. Whether one chose to help reconstruct ravaged homes, donate money, or completely ignore the problem, one needed a will to react, and hence one must take responsibility for the action. Even on the individual level, while being hungry, breathing, and evacuating one's bowels are things that the individual does not necessarily control, the will can choose whether one eats, whether one continues breathing, or when one needs to relieve oneself. Hence every action, whether chosen are not, can be taken into account because man does have a will, even though it is not a free will.
The argument above makes a good point about free will--it is a fallacy. There are so many actions that we cannot control. However, the argument automatically assumes that if there is no free will, then there is no will at all, and hence, no responsibility. This is not true. Man does have a will to choose how to react to situations that are beyond his control, and hence he must be held responsible for how he reacts. While he may not have a free will, it does not mean that he has no will at all.
*****
Something tells me I'm going to do very poorly on the GRE.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Failure's Art
They had Little Billy tied up in the basement when the doorbell rang.
"It’s them!"
"I can’t go South again–not again!"
"We have to do something!"
"I’m not going South, you hear me?"
At this point, Little Billy began to cry–a low moaning crescendo becoming a cacophonous howl.
"They’re going to hear him, what are we going to do?"
"I can’t go South, I can’t. I just can’t go South."
Tears began to form around the corner of Sid’s eyes; his long eyelashes seemed even longer when wet. Pacey continued to pace around the foyer, mumbling.
"I just can’t. Not again. Not ever."
"Well, we sure as hell will go South if you don’t help me think of what to do with Little Billy!" Sid was not openly weeping, but the tears were coming down now, the hint of desperation not so subtle anymore. Pacey stopped. He gave an incredulous look at Sid, as if realizing for the first time the real possibility of going South. Little Billy yowled violently. The doorbell rang again.
"Why didn’t we get a muzzle for him? We could have bought a muzzle from some pet store on the way back, I’m sure it would work. We just can’t deal with them if Little Billy is free to howl and wail as if Judgment Day has come!"
"We didn’t have time to get a muzzle! We should have gotten the muzzle before we started the operation!" Pacey said, the fear of going South bleeding through his eyes as he spoke. Sid was weeping now, his frail body rattling as he buried his face in his hands. Sid looked like some skeleton resurrecting itself.
"Sid, stop it! You’re worse than a woman!" Pacey checked himself— they might hear him if he yelled too loudly. He couldn’t go South, and now Sid was going to send both of them there. Little Billy’s moans abated. The doorbell rang, followed by knocking. A thought occurred to Pacey.
"Sid, listen to me!" It was a hushed yell. In two steps, Pacey was shaking Sid’s limp shoulders.
"I have an idea but you have to listen to me!" Sid looked up at him, tears all over his face, in a sort of grimace that only people who are crying can attain.
"This is what you’re going to do. Go down to the basement and calm Little Billy down, and I’ll handle whoever is at the door [Pacey suddenly began to deny that it was them who were at the door.]. I’ll give you a signal—it’ll be something like, well, there’s nothing down in the basement—when you hear that, hide Little Billy and yourself, and then we won’t go South!"
The thought caught Pacey by surprise, and there was a moment when he suddenly felt free. He was far away from this run-down, two-story house, from Sid, from this failed "operation," and especially from Little Billy. He was on the shores of Africa, on the pinnacles of the Alps, and in the basins of Death Valley. He was everywhere and nowhere, with no responsibility and no liability. He was absolute.
The knocks on the door now, vicious and constant, brought him back. Pacey released the nodding, contorted grimace. Despite the exigent circumstances, Sid shuffled past the stairs over to the basement door. Sid looked back at Pacey, rubbed his nose and his grimace with his entire palm, rolled his neck, and then opened the door to the basement and disappeared.
"It’s them!"
"I can’t go South again–not again!"
"We have to do something!"
"I’m not going South, you hear me?"
At this point, Little Billy began to cry–a low moaning crescendo becoming a cacophonous howl.
"They’re going to hear him, what are we going to do?"
"I can’t go South, I can’t. I just can’t go South."
Tears began to form around the corner of Sid’s eyes; his long eyelashes seemed even longer when wet. Pacey continued to pace around the foyer, mumbling.
"I just can’t. Not again. Not ever."
"Well, we sure as hell will go South if you don’t help me think of what to do with Little Billy!" Sid was not openly weeping, but the tears were coming down now, the hint of desperation not so subtle anymore. Pacey stopped. He gave an incredulous look at Sid, as if realizing for the first time the real possibility of going South. Little Billy yowled violently. The doorbell rang again.
"Why didn’t we get a muzzle for him? We could have bought a muzzle from some pet store on the way back, I’m sure it would work. We just can’t deal with them if Little Billy is free to howl and wail as if Judgment Day has come!"
"We didn’t have time to get a muzzle! We should have gotten the muzzle before we started the operation!" Pacey said, the fear of going South bleeding through his eyes as he spoke. Sid was weeping now, his frail body rattling as he buried his face in his hands. Sid looked like some skeleton resurrecting itself.
"Sid, stop it! You’re worse than a woman!" Pacey checked himself— they might hear him if he yelled too loudly. He couldn’t go South, and now Sid was going to send both of them there. Little Billy’s moans abated. The doorbell rang, followed by knocking. A thought occurred to Pacey.
"Sid, listen to me!" It was a hushed yell. In two steps, Pacey was shaking Sid’s limp shoulders.
"I have an idea but you have to listen to me!" Sid looked up at him, tears all over his face, in a sort of grimace that only people who are crying can attain.
"This is what you’re going to do. Go down to the basement and calm Little Billy down, and I’ll handle whoever is at the door [Pacey suddenly began to deny that it was them who were at the door.]. I’ll give you a signal—it’ll be something like, well, there’s nothing down in the basement—when you hear that, hide Little Billy and yourself, and then we won’t go South!"
The thought caught Pacey by surprise, and there was a moment when he suddenly felt free. He was far away from this run-down, two-story house, from Sid, from this failed "operation," and especially from Little Billy. He was on the shores of Africa, on the pinnacles of the Alps, and in the basins of Death Valley. He was everywhere and nowhere, with no responsibility and no liability. He was absolute.
The knocks on the door now, vicious and constant, brought him back. Pacey released the nodding, contorted grimace. Despite the exigent circumstances, Sid shuffled past the stairs over to the basement door. Sid looked back at Pacey, rubbed his nose and his grimace with his entire palm, rolled his neck, and then opened the door to the basement and disappeared.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Mr. Smith on a Plane
baby britain feels the best floating over a sea of vodka
separated from the rest
fights problems with bigger problems
sees the ocean fall and rise
counts the waves that somehow didn't hit her
water pouring from her eyes
alcoholic and very bitter
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help until you start
we knocked another couple back
the dead soldiers lined up on the table
still prepared for an attack
they didn't know they'd been disabled
felt a wave a rush of blood
you won't be happy 'til the bottle's broken
and you're out swimming in the flood
you kept back you kept unspoken
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help you until you start
you got a look in your eye
when you're saying goodbye
like you wanna say hi
the light was on but it was dim
revolver's been turned over
and now it's ready once again
the radio was playing "crimson and clover"
london bridge is safe and sound
no matter what you keep repeating
nothing's gonna drag me down
to a death that's not worth cheating
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help until you start
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
~ baby britain, Elliott Smith
And,
The worst paper ever written.
separated from the rest
fights problems with bigger problems
sees the ocean fall and rise
counts the waves that somehow didn't hit her
water pouring from her eyes
alcoholic and very bitter
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help until you start
we knocked another couple back
the dead soldiers lined up on the table
still prepared for an attack
they didn't know they'd been disabled
felt a wave a rush of blood
you won't be happy 'til the bottle's broken
and you're out swimming in the flood
you kept back you kept unspoken
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help you until you start
you got a look in your eye
when you're saying goodbye
like you wanna say hi
the light was on but it was dim
revolver's been turned over
and now it's ready once again
the radio was playing "crimson and clover"
london bridge is safe and sound
no matter what you keep repeating
nothing's gonna drag me down
to a death that's not worth cheating
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
and I can't help until you start
for someone half as smart you'd be a work of art
you put yourself apart
~ baby britain, Elliott Smith
And,
The worst paper ever written.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
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