She was stabbed to death on a sunny, Saturday morning in a suburb near Austin, Texas. It was April 18th … Read More “Infinitely Entangled: A Story of a Murder and a God Who Cried”
Materialism has been criticized on many grounds that I will not cover here. In fact, I have, in various ways, … Read More “In Defense of Materialism: Philosophy of Language and Employing Material Things as Symbols”
It’s a Saturday night somewhere. A warm summer breeze caresses a chiseled male jaw. The middle-aged man with grey … Read More “A History of Virginity: Purity Culture’s Ideals, Feminist Critiques, and a Philosophy of History; Or, How in the Hell Did We Go From Virginity to Hymens to Purity Balls?”
What does it mean “to speak to another human being”? That is, what does it mean to convey something using … Read More “How Do We Talk to Others?: Wittgenstein and Language-Games”
Moral leadership is defined as: The ability of an individual, functioning as a leader, to guide other individuals, functioning as followers, to act in accordance with the desired course of action of the leader; the “desired course of action” being informed by a theoretical ethic, which are the external, theoretical principles informing one’s concept of right versus wrong that govern one’s behavior. Such theoretical ethics are then acted upon and become moral habits, which are the internal, practical activities an individual conscientiously and willfully engages in, activities that reflect one’s own internalized concept of right versus wrong. The moral leader’s concept of right versus wrong is greatly influenced by the maxim: The greatest good action is an action that produces the greatest good for the greatest number—according to empirical notions of pleasure and pain—being inspired by right intent; an action, at the same time, you would will to become a universal law.
Roughly once a year, I grab some coffee, settle comfortably in a sofa, and re-read The Little Prince by Antoine … Read More “People are Flowers: The Art of Morality as Painted in The Little Prince”
The little girl suffering from leukemia dies, being buried on a damp April night under torrential rain. Her parents huddle closely, aching for death to take them too. They mumble prayers to the sound of raindrops bulleting the last of their hopes. Their god leaves them to their sorrows, offering them not so much as an ounce, a flicker, of comfort; a god who only wears black. The parents listen to the monotonous sermon being preached to the monotonous thunderclaps under a banal sky. “What a eulogy!” they think to themselves.