Nasty, Brutish and Short: Hobbesian Ethics and the Zombie Apocalypse.

I was 19 when I read Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes. Like most of my classmates, I was at first taken aback by the idea that people act out of self-interest, but I came to really appreciate the idea of that, and of social contracts and a strong leadership, which were the elements which saved us from the chaos of man in the state of nature. The state of nature, in which the life of man would be ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.’

My friends and I loved that description, ‘nasty, brutish, and short.’ We’d throw it into conversations and laugh the laugh of the philosophy geek.   Continue reading

Growth.

I resisted Twitter for years before succumbing to it.  And now I’m there, I really like it, mostly because I follow some interesting sites which constantly tweet links to articles I might enjoy (and I generally do enjoy them).  The trouble lies when I start to read the comments.  I mean, this is the internet, so why am I surprised that comments can be like diving in a cesspool?  Generally, I avoid them, but sometimes… I guess I’m my own worst enemy.

The other day, I read an article about overpopulation where I became mired in the comments.  I didn’t respond, so at least I have some semblance of sense, but there were people who did annoy me.  Mostly, because they remind me of myself, and because I’m now on the defensive.

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Heaven is a Place on Earth.

Years ago, when the Handsome Sidekick and I were still child- and fancy-free, we lived in an inner city rental, where the roof leaked and the garden was in shade for about 7 months of the year. It was a trendy suburb with fairly mimimal rent (which may have had something to do with the leaking roof and the redundant clothesline) and after being there a few weeks, we adopted two cats: Sasha, and Indiana. The townhouse was on quite a busy road, so we were careful about letting the cats out—we waited until they were a few months old, and even then, brought them in before bed and didn’t let them out until morning.

You can see where this is going, can’t you?

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Humour Me, Please.

The Handsome Sidekick started playing the new South Park game, The Stick of Truth, the other night. I was reading, but in the same room, so I would look up now and then to see what was happening. In typical South Park fashion, it’s rude, racist, anti-Semitic, and sexist. It’s immature. It’s full of toilet humour. It’s offensive.

And it’s laugh-out-loud hilarious.

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