<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620</id><updated>2009-09-23T20:35:33.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Philosophy Confidential</title><subtitle type='html'>Every great philosophy so far has been the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.

--Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-670039475425665209</id><published>2007-12-09T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T18:41:34.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare to Be Deep</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Philosophy used to be taught at colleges and universities to acquaint students with the rich heritage of the Western intellectual tradition, to present texts against which one might define, develop, challenge, and re-evaluate one’s own ideas, and to encourage logical thinking. But now, in an age where celebrity gossip dominates all of life, the student is less likely to learn about the intellectual achievements of the past and to encounter models of reasoned discourse than to be told, for example, that Kant is “a disaster” (Bertrand Russell), that John Dewey “replaces structure with fog” (Arthur C. Danto), that “Wittgenstein wants to make a bonfire of our philosophical vanities” (Hilary Putnam), that Jean-Paul Sartre is “an appalling language-user” (Mary Warnock), that A.J. Ayer “might have been a great philosopher--ruined by sex” (Gilbert Ryle), and even that awarding an honorary degree to Jacques Derrida showed “it had been a bad year for bullshit in Cambridge” (Hugh Mellor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to restore philosophy to the grand tradition of providing a guide to wisdom and the conduct of life, philosophers must return to their true calling, which is to challenge people to &lt;em&gt;dare to be deep&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad as it is to say, nobody’s going to accept you as a profound thinker unless they believe you have acquired your superior knowledge by reflecting upon the wisdom of the great philosophers. This does not mean you must spend your life studying their work or &lt;em&gt;actually reading&lt;/em&gt; all their difficult books. Fortunately, the keys to becoming a profound thinker can be found in proven, practical guidelines and techniques to put you on the road to wisdom. For example, &lt;em&gt;selective&lt;/em&gt; reading can save you years of time in achieving your goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consider first and foremost the &lt;em&gt;philosophers you have not read&lt;/em&gt;. Either they are &lt;em&gt;major &lt;/em&gt;philosophers, like Plato and Aristotle, or they are not. You need not read philosophers who are not major, for they are less influential and thus less important than the “majors.” This alone eliminates 99% of the philosophers who have ever written or are writing now. Of the remaining 1%, there are &lt;em&gt;philosophers who you would no doubt read if you had more time, but unfortunately you don’t&lt;/em&gt;. No one will hold it against you if you have not read anything by this group of thinkers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are &lt;em&gt;philosophers you intend to read as soon as you’ve read other philosophers&lt;/em&gt;. Again, it will not reflect badly on you if you have not read anything by philosophers who fall into this group. Take Aquinas, for example. No one would expect you to read the philosopher who attempted to reconcile Aristotle’s thought with Christianity until you had read Aristotle himself. So much for Aquinas. How about Aristotle? Surely no one would expect you to read Aristotle until you have read the works of Aristotle’s great teacher, Plato.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next there are &lt;em&gt;philosophers who treat topics that are not about anything you are thinking about right now or expect to think about in the foreseeable future&lt;/em&gt;. They can be removed from your reading list. And there are &lt;em&gt;philosophers you suspect everyone has pretended to read, but whom probably very few have&lt;/em&gt;. Strike them from your “must read” list as well. You can use this technique to find countless other philosophers you can safely ignore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, there are &lt;em&gt;philosophers everyone’s read&lt;/em&gt;, so there’s no need for &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;to read them too, and &lt;em&gt;philosophers no one’s read&lt;/em&gt;, so there’s really no need for you to read them either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you tally up all the philosophers you must read, one conclusion seems inevitable: you only have to read Plato. After all, did not Alfred North Whitehead--&lt;em&gt;a philosopher you would no doubt read if only you had the time&lt;/em&gt;--say the history of Western philosophy is a series of footnotes to Plato? So Relax. Dare to be deep and start reading a copy of Plato’s &lt;em&gt;Republic&lt;/em&gt; today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-670039475425665209?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/670039475425665209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=670039475425665209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/670039475425665209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/670039475425665209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/12/dare-to-be-deep.html' title='Dare to Be Deep'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-8297117726394081889</id><published>2007-10-29T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T10:57:16.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minimal Maxims/#2 in a series</title><content type='html'>Hope lights a path out of the darkest woods; misadventure leads us back into them. --Jean-Jacques Rousseau&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let bygones be bygones" is not so much good advice as a brute fact precisely because the past is unalterable. --Lord Acton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even a poor argument by a Russell or a Dewey can be a thing of beauty, but a page of Heidegger is the ultimate insult. --A.J. Ayer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a conscience is a terrible burden except in the most favorable circumstances. --Oscar Wilde&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst affairs, the ones which present the most intractable problems, are nearly always the work of single women or married men. --Marcel Proust&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-8297117726394081889?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/8297117726394081889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=8297117726394081889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8297117726394081889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8297117726394081889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/10/minimal-maxims2-in-series.html' title='Minimal Maxims/#2 in a series'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-1571945397158968607</id><published>2007-10-29T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T10:22:03.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Etymologically Mixed Metaphor (see "Mixed, Not Stirred" below)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A writer for the &lt;em&gt;New Yorker &lt;/em&gt;(October 29, 2007, p. 66) used the expression "spacious confines" to describe the metaphor "in the arena of truth." One might call this an etymologically mixed meta-metaphor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-1571945397158968607?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/1571945397158968607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=1571945397158968607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/1571945397158968607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/1571945397158968607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/10/etymologically-mixed-metaphor-see-mixed.html' title='Etymologically Mixed Metaphor (see &quot;Mixed, Not Stirred&quot; below)'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-6725775575724866682</id><published>2007-09-21T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T08:11:31.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minimal Maxims/#1 in a series</title><content type='html'>Count no man consistent until he is dead. --Aristotle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flirtation has a dual moral flaw: it is a questionable means to a dubious end. --Immanuel Kant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most fatal obstacle to happiness is the overexamined life. --Mark Twain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never apologize, never explain: a true friend does not require an apology; a false friend will not believe your explanation. --Truman Capote&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance plays no favorites. --Voltaire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-6725775575724866682?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/6725775575724866682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=6725775575724866682' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6725775575724866682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6725775575724866682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/minimal-maxims1-in-series.html' title='Minimal Maxims/#1 in a series'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-417891574238066302</id><published>2007-09-21T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T07:53:15.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Man to Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Philosopher Keith Burgess-Jackson’s eponymously-named blog is filled with nuggets of philosophical insight, political commentary, and keen observations on sports, music, and the like. In a post from January 29, 2007, he wrote movingly of his mentor, Joel Feinberg, from which I take this excerpt: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He was not just a great philosopher and a good man; he was a wonderful teacher and friend. He taught, mentored, and inspired hundreds of graduate students during his long, distinguished career. Some of them, because of his influence, have gone on to do great things. Some of us, in spite of his influence, have gone on to do mediocre things. I miss you, Joel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;As incredible as it may sound, I have never heard (or seen) a single disparaging comment about Joel. The man was universally loved. Of how many people can that be said?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hours after this blog was posted, "Will," a regular visitor to the blog, left this comment:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Joel sucked&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In a follow-up comment, Will explained that he assumed Keith Burgess-Jackson knew him well enough by now to recognize “&lt;em&gt;a snappy comeback when you see one and an attempt at humor&lt;/em&gt;.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In what can only be described as a monumental act of forbearance (one that must have been preceded by a huge sigh), Keith Burgess-Jackson replied:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, I know you well, Will. You couldn’t bear the thought that someone, somewhere, hadn’t been disparaged&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-417891574238066302?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/417891574238066302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=417891574238066302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/417891574238066302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/417891574238066302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/good-man-to-know.html' title='A Good Man to Know'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-3638000512190588837</id><published>2007-09-17T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T11:46:30.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bergmaniac</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In the week following Ingmar Bergman’s death, David Denby wrote in &lt;em&gt;The New Yorker&lt;/em&gt; that Bergman “was perhaps the most influential of all filmmakers as well as the most widely parodied.” (August 13, 2007, p. 10).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Denby said “perhaps,” and he supported his view by writing that “In the nineteen-sixties and seventies, antic couples quarreled in mock Swedish, film students spoofed his morbid dream sequences, Woody Allen sent the hooded figure of death from ‘The Seventh Seal’ stalking through ‘Love and Death’.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, his assertion is astonishing. It was as if someone had called Nietzsche “perhaps the most influential of all philosophers as well as the most widely parodied,” and had noted that in the nineteen-seventies students walked about Harvard Square in Nietzsche T-shirts, that some thinkers have called Nietzsche &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; philosopher of the twentieth century, that even &lt;em&gt;The&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Sopranos&lt;/em&gt; invoked the pronouncement for which Nietzsche is best known (at least to non-philosophers), “God is dead.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, the case for Nietzsche is considerably &lt;em&gt;stronger&lt;/em&gt; than the analogous one for Bergman. While there are no &lt;em&gt;obvious&lt;/em&gt; alternative candidates to Nietzsche in the “most influential and widely parodied” contest (with the possible exception of Wittgenstein, who has been hugely influential--even among those who do not accept his view of philosophy-- and parodied at least once in a while), there &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; an obvious alternative to Bergman in the person of Alfred Hitchcock, whose work has influenced and been imitated, parodied, and otherwise sent up by admirers and acolytes from Mel Brooks and Jonathan Demme to Gus Van Sant and Brian de Palma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has there ever been a more recognizable filmmaker, one who combined artistic achievement so thoroughly with commercial success, and whose influence can be felt in such disparate movements and subgenres as film noir, French New Wave, thrillers, psychological dramas, espionage, romance, and horror films?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To see how “the case for Hitchcock” might be made, see the recent collection of essays on the range and influence of Hitchcock’s films, &lt;em&gt;After Hitchcock: Influence, Imitation, and&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Intertextuality&lt;/em&gt;, edited by David Boyd and R. Barton Palmer (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2006).   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-3638000512190588837?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/3638000512190588837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=3638000512190588837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/3638000512190588837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/3638000512190588837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/bergmaniac.html' title='Bergmaniac'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-861363608147304724</id><published>2007-09-17T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T11:41:29.911-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In (what must have been) first grade, I had a teacher who read a story to the class in which the narrator tries to disabuse people of the notion that there are bears on Hemlock Mountain. Our teacher would read the line this way: “There &lt;em&gt;are &lt;/em&gt;no bears on Hemlock Mountain!” I don’t know who wrote the story, how it ended, or what anyone else in class felt, but that “line reading” scared the hell out of me. It was my first encounter with irony, which is perhaps why I’ve never forgotten it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-861363608147304724?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/861363608147304724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=861363608147304724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/861363608147304724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/861363608147304724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/irony.html' title='Irony'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-9112900862906705013</id><published>2007-09-06T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T12:22:25.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Obscure Object of Desire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Any effort in philosophy to make the obscure obvious is likely to be unappealing, for the penalty of failure is confusion while the reward of success is banality."--Nelson Goodman, &lt;em&gt;The Structure of Appearance &lt;/em&gt;(1951), p. xv.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-9112900862906705013?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/9112900862906705013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=9112900862906705013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/9112900862906705013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/9112900862906705013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/obscure-object-of-desire.html' title='The Obscure Object of Desire'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-4875718466365111113</id><published>2007-09-06T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T12:12:41.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed, Not Stirred</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The American philosopher W.V. Quine (1908-2000) is widely regarded as one of the most influential and important philosophers of the twentieth century. In addition to its philosophical merits, Quine's work is written in a clean, admirably clear style. He once told an interviewer he tried to avoid “mutually conflicting etymological metaphors,” as in “stirring up tensions” and “it was at the height of the Depression.” What would Quine have made of this: "That January, for the second year in a row, the Byrds unveiled a sound that would spread like wildfire"? (from &lt;em&gt;Riot on Sunset Strip&lt;/em&gt; by Domenic Priore [Jawbone Press, 2007])&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-4875718466365111113?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/4875718466365111113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=4875718466365111113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/4875718466365111113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/4875718466365111113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/mixed-not-stirred.html' title='Mixed, Not Stirred'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-2850666578040992780</id><published>2007-09-06T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:56:19.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wake Us Before You Go-Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At a gathering of Somerville College faculty and graduates in the mid-1980’s, three of its most celebrated alumna, Elizabeth Anscombe, Iris Murdoch, and Philippa Foot, performed an impromptu a capella version of the Go-Go’s “We Got the Beat.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-2850666578040992780?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/2850666578040992780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=2850666578040992780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2850666578040992780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2850666578040992780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/wake-us-before-you-go-go.html' title='Wake Us Before You Go-Go'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-6008687620191612069</id><published>2007-09-06T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:53:42.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honorable Intentions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In her book &lt;em&gt;Intention&lt;/em&gt; (Blackwell, 1967) Anscombe said “the primitive sign of wanting is &lt;em&gt;trying to get."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-6008687620191612069?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/6008687620191612069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=6008687620191612069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6008687620191612069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6008687620191612069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/honorable-intentions.html' title='Honorable Intentions'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-8864405848237731394</id><published>2007-09-06T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:50:05.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Professor Imbroglio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anscombe opposed awarding former president Harry S Truman an honorary degree at Oxford because of his responsibility for dropping the atomic bomb, saying “If you honour Truman now, what Neros, what Genghis Khans, what Hitlers, what Stalins will you honour next?” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-8864405848237731394?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/8864405848237731394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=8864405848237731394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8864405848237731394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8864405848237731394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/professor-imbroglio.html' title='Professor Imbroglio'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-8595492388721611259</id><published>2007-09-06T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:48:45.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Eve in Eden</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Colin McGinn, the author of &lt;em&gt;The Making of a Philosopher: My Journey Through Twentieth-Century Philosophy&lt;/em&gt;, called  Anscombe “an authentically terrifying woman.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-8595492388721611259?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/8595492388721611259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=8595492388721611259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8595492388721611259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8595492388721611259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-eve-in-eden.html' title='No Eve in Eden'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-766169229845639492</id><published>2007-09-06T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T11:47:24.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>English Channeling</title><content type='html'>Stuart Hampshire described Anscombe’s classes at Oxford as “brooding séances.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-766169229845639492?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/766169229845639492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=766169229845639492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/766169229845639492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/766169229845639492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/english-channeling.html' title='English Channeling'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-6351888692686547885</id><published>2007-09-06T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:42:59.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glass Houses</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"The example on which [F.H.] Bradley spends a good deal of time (do not commit adultery), is worth a little attention here. Used as it is as a criticism of [John Stuart] Mill, it may be thought to make a somewhat malicious allusion to Mill’s association with Harriet Taylor, at a time when her first husband was still alive. That would not be so bad if it were not for the grotesque hypocrisy involved in Bradley’s morally outraged posture on the subject. He may well have believed that Mill’s relations with Mrs. Taylor were literally adulterous, although this is now generally doubted. What is quite beyond doubt is that Bradley was himself an inveterate adulterer who for a long time spent a period each year with the wife of another man. His only moral achievement in this particular domain of human striving is that he managed to keep his misconduct from general notice. But it was not as champion of the principle 'do not be seen to commit adultery' that he strode forth so self-righteously against Mill.&lt;br /&gt;--Anthony Quinton, &lt;em&gt;Utilitarian Ethics&lt;/em&gt; (St. Martin’s, 1973), p. 96&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-6351888692686547885?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/6351888692686547885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=6351888692686547885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6351888692686547885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6351888692686547885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/glass-houses.html' title='Glass Houses'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-3703134788077363223</id><published>2007-09-06T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:32:20.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way We Weren't</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When Herman Melville encountered Ralph Waldo Emerson’s advice “Trust men, and they will be true to you,” the truculent author of &lt;em&gt;Moby-Dick&lt;/em&gt; wrote in the margin of his copy of Emerson’s &lt;em&gt;Essays&lt;/em&gt;, “God help the poor fellow who squares his life according to this.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(See Andrew Delbanco, "The Great White Whale," &lt;em&gt;The New Republic&lt;/em&gt;, September 30, 2002, p. 36)&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-3703134788077363223?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/3703134788077363223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=3703134788077363223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/3703134788077363223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/3703134788077363223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/way-we-werent.html' title='The Way We Weren&apos;t'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-8628738654221435603</id><published>2007-09-06T09:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:28:50.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Riddle of Consciousness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nietzsche asked how is it that consciousness, which emerges from and supervenes on the brain, is not reducible to the brain? “Only a handful of philosophers can contemplate this riddle for more than five minutes without going mad.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SS:&lt;/strong&gt; And one fewer than he realized.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-8628738654221435603?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/8628738654221435603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=8628738654221435603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8628738654221435603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/8628738654221435603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/riddle-of-consciousness.html' title='The Riddle of Consciousness'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-5143671278272037737</id><published>2007-09-06T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:26:00.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashionable Nihilism</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Every night Samuel Beckett goes home to his wife, whom he’s lived with all these years; he lies down in bed with her, puts his arms around her, and says, ‘No meaning again today . . .’ Critics can say, and do say, well, it doesn’t matter what he says, it’s how well he says it. But I think in the long run Beckett is in for it. Because great writers tell the truth exactly – and get it right.” --John Gardner interview in &lt;em&gt;The Writer's Chapbook&lt;/em&gt;, ed. George Plimpton (Modern Library, 1999), p. 36.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-5143671278272037737?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/5143671278272037737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=5143671278272037737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/5143671278272037737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/5143671278272037737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/fashionable-nihilism.html' title='Fashionable Nihilism'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-4775274861211045885</id><published>2007-09-06T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:18:57.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faith, Hope, and Clarity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“I find it difficult to excite myself very much over right and wrong in practice. I have, e.g., no clear idea of what people have in mind when they say that they labour under a sense of sin; . . . A healthy appetite for righteousness, kept in due control by good manners, is an excellent thing; but to ‘hunger and thirst after’ it is often merely a symptom of spiritual diabetes.”--C.D. Broad, &lt;em&gt;Five Types of Ethical Theory&lt;/em&gt; (1930), paperback edition (Littlefield, Adams, 1959), p. 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-4775274861211045885?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/4775274861211045885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=4775274861211045885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/4775274861211045885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/4775274861211045885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/faith-hope-and-clarity.html' title='Faith, Hope, and Clarity'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-7165671740338109323</id><published>2007-09-06T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:13:19.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Torn Confession</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“The criticism which most perturbs me is that my book [&lt;em&gt;The Perfectibility of Man&lt;/em&gt; (Scribners, 1970)] encourages complacency, contentment with things as they are, by suggesting that any sort of enthusiasm, any attempt to encourage men to pass beyond the every-day limits of their life, is automatically to be condemned. I confess myself torn on this point.” --John Passmore, &lt;em&gt;The Perfectibility of Man&lt;/em&gt;, second edition, pp. 7-8.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-7165671740338109323?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/7165671740338109323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=7165671740338109323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/7165671740338109323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/7165671740338109323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/torn-confession.html' title='Torn Confession'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-6803256049430729631</id><published>2007-09-06T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T09:09:27.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creature Feature</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“[An] aspect [of proper humility] . . . is a kind of self-acceptance. This involves acknowledging, in more than a merely intellectual way, that we are the sort of creatures that we are.” --Thomas E. Hill, Jr., "Ideals of Human Excellence and Preserving Natural Environments," &lt;em&gt;Environmental Ethics &lt;/em&gt;5 (1983).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SS&lt;/strong&gt;: Does Hill's view invite a Russellian riposte that only a fool would not acknowledge that it is the sort of creature that it is?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-6803256049430729631?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/6803256049430729631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=6803256049430729631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6803256049430729631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/6803256049430729631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/creature-feature.html' title='Creature Feature'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-2019473574356756437</id><published>2007-09-06T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T07:46:47.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In &lt;em&gt;Philosophical Investigations&lt;/em&gt;, Wittgenstein's interlocutor asks: “What is your aim in philosophy?” and Wittgenstein answers: “To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(Ludwig Wittgenstein, &lt;em&gt;Philosophical Investigations&lt;/em&gt;, trans. Elizabeth Anscombe [Manmillan, 1953])&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-2019473574356756437?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/2019473574356756437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=2019473574356756437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2019473574356756437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2019473574356756437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/fly.html' title='The Fly'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-2747239761483519342</id><published>2007-09-06T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T07:48:26.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly and the Fly-Bottle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wittgenstein very fittingly compares a certain type of philosopher with a fly in a bottle, going on and on, buzzing about. And he says it is the task of his philosophy to show the fly the way out of the bottle. But I think it is Wittgenstein himself who is in the bottle and never finds his way out of it; and I certainly don’t think he has shown anybody else the way out."&lt;br /&gt;--Karl Popper (1902-1994), author of &lt;em&gt;The Logic of Scientific Discovery&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;The Open Society and Its Enemies. &lt;/em&gt;(Quoted from &lt;em&gt;Modern British Philosophy&lt;/em&gt;, edited by Bryan Magee [St. Martin's Press, 1971])&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-2747239761483519342?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/2747239761483519342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=2747239761483519342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2747239761483519342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2747239761483519342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/fly-and-fly-bottle.html' title='Fly and the Fly-Bottle'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-1102368150266806149</id><published>2007-09-06T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T07:29:29.191-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forbidden Planet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;G.E. Moore (1873-1958) invites us to imagine two worlds, one with “mountains, rivers, the sea; trees and sunsets, stars and moon . . . all combined in the most exquisite proportion,” and the other as “one heap of filth, containing everything that is most disgusting to us . . . without one redeeming feature.” Moore said it would be better that the former rather than the latter world exist, even if there were no possibility that it would ever be experienced by any human being.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-1102368150266806149?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/1102368150266806149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=1102368150266806149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/1102368150266806149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/1102368150266806149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/forbidden-planet.html' title='Forbidden Planet'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8333822099033258620.post-2849751881310368165</id><published>2007-09-06T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T08:00:31.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Man's Free Worship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Seeking to illustrate the vagaries of religious belief, Bertrand Russell used the example of the hypothesis that there is a china teapot in its own orbit around the sun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8333822099033258620-2849751881310368165?l=philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/feeds/2849751881310368165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8333822099033258620&amp;postID=2849751881310368165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2849751881310368165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8333822099033258620/posts/default/2849751881310368165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://philosophyconfidential.blogspot.com/2007/09/mans-free-worship.html' title='A Man&apos;s Free Worship'/><author><name>Steven Sanders</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10251417774196210323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='00405137571493631166'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>