First Cause Argument Quotes

Men are keen on blaming women for the rise in sin. It's been something plaguing humanity since the Bible first accused Eve of tempting Adam. As if he had no mind to taste that forbidden fruit before she offered it to him. Everyone seems to forget God told Adam the fruit was forbidden. He created Eve later.” “Honestly?” I snorted. “I didn’t realize you were so well versed in religion.” Thomas placed my hand in the crook of his arm, steering us toward my uncle, who’d just exited the station. “I enjoy causing discord when forced to attend parties. You ought to hear the arguments that break out from uttering something so supposedly blasphemous. The one question no one can answer is always, if Adam had been warned, why didn’t he pass the message along to his wife? Seems he was more to blame than she was. Yet Eve is always the villain, the wicked temptress who cursed us all.

If everything must have a cause, of course, this also applies to God; if God can exist in isolation, then why not the universe?

Naive people tend to generalize people as—-good, bad, kind, or evil based on their actions. However, even the smartest person in the world is not the wisest or the most spiritual, in all matters. We are all flawed. Maybe, you didn’t know a few of these things about Einstein, but it puts the notion of perfection to rest. Perfection doesn’t exist in anyone. Nor, does a person’s mistakes make them less valuable to the world. 1. He divorced the mother of his children, which caused Mileva, his wife, to have a break down and be hospitalized. 2.He was a ladies man and was known to have had several affairs; infidelity was listed as a reason for his divorce. 3.He married his cousin. 4.He had an estranged relationship with his son. 5. He had his first child out of wedlock. 6. He urged the FDR to build the Atom bomb, which killed thousands of people. 7. He was Jewish, yet he made many arguments for the possibility of God. Yet, hypocritically he did not believe in the Jewish God or Christianity. He stated, “I believe in Spinoza’s God who reveals himself in the harmony of all that exists, not in a God who concerns himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.

Put simply, the cosmological argument claims that since the physical world had to come into existence somehow, there must be a First Cause, namely, a creator God.

I will tell you the deeper significance of this, which otherwise might seem a banal hydraulic joke. Caus knew that if one fills a vessel with water and seals it at the top, the water, even if one then opens a hole in the bottom, will not come out. But if one opens a hole in the top, also, the water spurts out below." "Isn't that obvious?" I said. "Air enters at the top and presses the water down." "A typical scientific explanation, in which the cause is mistaken for the effect, or vice versa. The question is not why the water comes out in the second place, but why it refuses to come out in the first case." "And why does it refuse?" Garamond asked eagerly. "Because, if it came out, it would leave a vacuum in the vessel, and nature abhors a vacuum. Nequaquam vacui was a Rosicrucian principle, which modern science has forgotten." "Excuse me," Belbo said to Agliè, "but your argument is simply post hoc ergo ante hoc. What follows causes what came before. You must not think linearly. The water in these fountains doesn't. Nature doesn't; nature knows nothing of time. Time is an invention of the West.

Very often the test of one's allegiance to a cause or to a people is precisely the willingness to stay the course when things are boring, to run the risk of repeating an old argument just one more time, or of going one more round with a hostile or (much worse) indifferent audience. I first became involved with the Czech opposition in 1968 when it was an intoxicating and celebrated cause. Then, during the depressing 1970s and 1980s I was a member of a routine committee that tried with limited success to help the reduced forces of Czech dissent to stay nourished (and published). The most pregnant moment of that commitment was one that I managed to miss at the time: I passed an afternoon with Zdenek Mlynar, exiled former secretary of the Czech Communist Party, who in the bleak early 1950s in Moscow had formed a friendship with a young Russian militant with an evident sense of irony named Mikhail Sergeyevitch Gorbachev. In 1988 I was arrested in Prague for attending a meeting of one of Vaclav Havel's 'Charter 77' committees. That outwardly exciting experience was interesting precisely because of its almost Zen-like tedium. I had gone to Prague determined to be the first visiting writer not to make use of the name Franz Kafka, but the numbing bureaucracy got the better of me. When I asked why I was being detained, I was told that I had no need to know the reason! Totalitarianism is itself a cliché (as well as a tundra of pulverizing boredom) and it forced the cliché upon me in turn. I did have to mention Kafka in my eventual story. The regime fell not very much later, as I had slightly foreseen in that same piece that it would. (I had happened to notice that the young Czechs arrested with us were not at all frightened by the police, as their older mentors had been and still were, and also that the police themselves were almost fatigued by their job. This was totalitarianism practically yawning itself to death.) A couple of years after that I was overcome to be invited to an official reception in Prague, to thank those who had been consistent friends through the stultifying years of what 'The Party' had so perfectly termed 'normalization.' As with my tiny moment with Nelson Mandela, a whole historic stretch of nothingness and depression, combined with the long and deep insult of having to be pushed around by boring and mediocre people, could be at least partially canceled and annealed by one flash of humor and charm and generosity.

The point of these studies is that moral judgment is like aesthetic judgment. When you see a painting, you usually know instantly and automatically whether you like it. If someone asks you to explain your judgment, you confabulate. You don’t really know why you think something is beautiful, but your interpreter module (the rider) is skilled at making up reasons, as Gazzaniga found in his split-brain studies. You search for a plausible reason for liking the painting, and you latch on to the first reason that makes sense (maybe something vague about color, or light, or the reflection of the painter in the clown’s shiny nose). Moral arguments are much the same: Two people feel strongly about an issue, their feelings come first, and their reasons are invented on the fly, to throw at each other. When you refute a person’s argument, does she generally change her mind and agree with you? Of course not, because the argument you defeated was not the cause of her position; it was made up after the judgment was already made.

Two people feel strongly about an issue, their feelings come first, and their reasons are invented on the fly, to throw at each other. When you refute a person’s argument, does she generally change her mind and agree with you? Of course not, because the argument you defeated was not the cause of her position; it was made up after the judgment was already made.

Dawkins, as I have said, tells us that there is “absolutely no reason” to think that the Unmoved Mover, First Cause, etc. is omnipotent, omniscient, good, and so forth. Perhaps what he meant to say was “absolutely no reason, apart from the many thousands of pages of detailed philosophical argumentation for this conclusion that have been produced over the centuries by thinkers of genius, and which I am not going to bother trying to answer.” So, a slip of the pen, perhaps.

I will here give a brief sketch of the progress of opinion on the Origin of Species. Until recently the great majority of naturalists believed that species were immutable productions, and had been separately created. This view has been ably maintained by many authors. Some few naturalists, on the other hand, have believed that species undergo modification, and that the existing forms of life are the descendants by true generation of pre existing forms. Passing over allusions to the subject in the classical writers (Aristotle, in his "Physicae Auscultationes" (lib.2, cap.8, s.2), after remarking that rain does not fall in order to make the corn grow, any more than it falls to spoil the farmer's corn when threshed out of doors, applies the same argument to organisation; and adds (as translated by Mr. Clair Grece, who first pointed out the passage to me), "So what hinders the different parts (of the body) from having this merely accidental relation in nature? as the teeth, for example, grow by necessity, the front ones sharp, adapted for dividing, and the grinders flat, and serviceable for masticating the food; since they were not made for the sake of this, but it was the result of accident. And in like manner as to other parts in which there appears to exist an adaptation to an end. Wheresoever, therefore, all things together (that is all the parts of one whole) happened like as if they were made for the sake of something, these were preserved, having been appropriately constituted by an internal spontaneity; and whatsoever things were not thus constituted, perished and still perish." We here see the principle of natural selection shadowed forth, but how little Aristotle fully comprehended the principle, is shown by his remarks on the formation of the teeth.), the first author who in modern times has treated it in a scientific spirit was Buffon. But as his opinions fluctuated greatly at different periods, and as he does not enter on the causes or means of the transformation of species, I need not here enter on details.

In the Second Part of this Dialogue, that which hath already been shewn concerning the passive power of the universe is demonstrated for the active power of the efficient cause, set forth with arguments of which the first deriveth from the fact that divine power should not be otiose; particularly positing the effect thereof outside the substance thereof (if indeed aught can be outside it), and that it is no less otiose and invidious if it produce a finite effect than if it produce none.

This is the latest approach by antitheistic thinkers who seek to explain good and evil apart from God. Over the years naturalists first denied causality as an argument to prove God’s existence: Why do we have to have a cause? Why can’t the universe just be? Then they denied design as an argument for God’s existence: Why do we need a designer? Why could it not have all just come together with the appearance of design? Now they deny morality as an argument for God’s existence: Why do we need to posit a moral law or a moral law source? Why can’t it just be a pragmatic reality? This I find fascinating! They want a cause for suffering or a design for suffering, but they have already denied that either of these is necessary to account for every effect. This

So Bruce came to believe, as he put it, that “today’s flood of addiction27 is occurring because our hyperindividualistic, frantic, crisis-ridden society makes most people feel social[ly] or culturally isolated. Chronic isolation causes people to look for relief. They find temporary relief in addiction . . . because [it] allows them to escape their feelings, to deaden their senses—and to experience an addictive lifestyle as a substitute for a full life.” This isn’t an argument against Gabor’s discoveries. It’s a deepening of them. A

eighteen, I read John Stuart Mill's Autobiography, and I there found this sentence: "My father taught me that the question 'Who made me?' cannot be answered, since it immediately suggests the further question `Who made god?'" That very simple sentence showed me, as I still think, the fallacy in the argument of the First Cause. If everything must have a cause, then God must have a cause. If there can be anything without a cause, it may just as well be the world as God, so that there cannot be any validity in that argument. It is exactly of the same nature as the Hindu's

Take terrorism, one example among the methods used in that struggle. We know that leftist tradition condemns terrorism and political assassination. When the colonized uses them, the leftist colonizer becomes unbearably embarrassed. He makes an effort to separate them from the colonized's voluntary action; to make an epiphenomenon out of his struggle. They are spontaneous outbursts of masses too long oppressed, or better yet, acts by unstable, untrustworthy elements which the leader of the movement has difficulty in controlling. Even in Europe, very few people admitted that the oppression of the colonized was so great, the disproportion of forces so overwhelming, that they had reached the point, whether morally correct or not, of using violent means voluntarily. The leftist colonizer tried in vain to explain actions which seemed incomprehensible, shocking and politically absurd. For example, the death of children and persons outside of the struggle, or even of colonized persons who, without being basically opposed, disapproved of some small aspect of the undertaking. At first he was so disconcerted that the best he could do was to deny such actions; for they would fit nowhere in his view of the problem. That it could be the cruelty of oppression which explained the blind fury of the reaction hardly seemed to be an argument to him; he can't approve acts of the colonized which he condemns in the colonizers because these are exactly why he condemns colonization. Then, after having suspected the information to be false, he says, as a last resort, that such deeds are errors, that is, they should not belong to the essence of the movement. He bravely asserts that the leaders certainly disapprove of them. A newspaper-man who always supported the cause of the colonized, weary of waiting for censure which was not forthcoming, finally called on certain leaders to take a public stand against the outrages, Of course, received no reply; he did not have the additional naïveté to insist.

If everything must have a cause, then God must have a cause. If there can be anything without a cause, it may just as well be the world as God, so that there cannot be any validity in that argument. It is exactly of the same nature as the Hindu's view, that the world rested upon an elephant and the elephant rested upon a tortoise; and when they said, "How about the tortoise?" the Indian said, "Suppose we change the subject." The argument is really no better than that. There is no reason why the world could not have come into being without a cause; nor, on the other hand, is there any reason why it should not have always existed. There is no reason to suppose that the world had a beginning at all. The idea that things must have a beginning is really due to the poverty of our imagination. Therefore, perhaps, I need not waste any more time upon the argument about the First Cause.

The contemporary design argument does not rest, however, on gaps in our knowledge but rather on the growth in our knowledge due to the revolution in molecular biology. Information theory has taught us that nature exhibits two types of order. The first type is produced by natural causes-shiny crystals, hexagonal patterns in oil, whirlpools in the bathtub. But the second type-the complex structure of the DNA molecule-is not produced by any natural processes known to experience.

Some people would deny the existence of such a powerful God rather than believe that everything else is uncertain. Let us grant them – for purposes of argument – that there is no God, and theology is fiction. On their view, then, I am a product of fate or chance or a long chain of causes and effects. But the less powerful they make my original cause, the more likely it is that I am so imperfect as to be deceived all the time – because deception and error seem to be imperfections.

In Paley's famous illustration, the adaptation of all the parts of the watch to the function, or purpose, of showing the time, is held to be evidence that the watch was specially contrived to that end; on the ground, that the only cause we know of, competent to produce such an effect as a watch which shall keep time, is a contriving intelligence adapting the means directly to that end. Suppose, however, that any one had been able to show that the watch had not been made directly by any person, but that it was the result of the modification of another watch which kept time but poorly; and that this again had proceeded from a structure which could hardly be called a watch at all—seeing that it had no figures on the dial and the hands were rudimentary; and that going back and back in time we came at last to a revolving barrel as the earliest traceable rudiment of the whole fabric. And imagine that it had been possible to show that all these changes had resulted, first, from a tendency of the structure to vary indefinitely; and secondly, from something in the surrounding world which helped all variations in the direction of an accurate time-keeper, and checked all those in other directions; then it is obvious that the force of Paley's argument would be gone. For it would be demonstrated that an apparatus thoroughly well adapted to a particular purpose might be the result of a method of trial and error worked by unintelligent agents, as well as of the direct application of the means appropriate to that end, by an intelligent agent. Now it appears to us that what we have here, for illustration's sake, supposed to be done with the watch, is exactly what the establishment of Darwin's Theory will do for the organic world. For the notion that every organism has been created as it is and launched straight at a purpose, Mr. Darwin substitutes the conception of something which may fairly be termed a method of trial and error. Organisms vary incessantly; of these variations the few meet with surrounding conditions which suit them and thrive; the many are unsuited and become extinguished.

If you ask religious believers why they believe, you may find a few "sophisticated" theologians who will talk about God as the "Ground of all Isness," or as "a metaphor for interpersonal fellowship" or some such evasion. But the majority of believers leap, more honestly and vulnerably, to a version of the argument from design or the argument from first cause. Philosophers of the caliber of David Hume didn't need to rise from their armchairs to demonstrate the fatal weakness of all such argument: they beg the question of the Creator's origin.

It caused my opposition to any ideologies—Marxist, Fascist, National Socialist, what you will—because they were incompatible with science in the rational sense of critical analysis. I again refer back to Max Weber as the great thinker who brought that problem to my attention; and I still maintain today that nobody who is an ideologist can be a competent social scientist." It is extremely difficult to engage in a critical discussion of National Socialist ideas, as I found out when I gave my semester course on “Hitler and the Germans” in 1964 in Munich, because in National Socialist and related documents we are still further below the level on which rational argument is possible than in the case of Hegel and Marx. In order to deal with rhetoric of this type, one must first develop a philosophy of language, going into the problems of symbolization on the basis of the philosophers’ experience of humanity and of the perversion of such symbols on the vulgarian level by people who are utterly unable to read a philosopher’s work. A person on this level—which I characterize as the vulgarian and, so far as it becomes socially relevant, as the ochlocratic level—again, is not admissible to the position of a partner in discussion but can only be an object of scientific research. Because of this attitude I have been called every conceivable name by partisans of this or that ideology. I have in my files documents labeling me a Communist, a Fascist, a National Socialist, an old liberal, a new liberal, a Jew, a Catholic, a Protestant, a Platonist, a neo-Augustinian, a Thomist, and of course a Hegelian—not to forget that I was supposedly strongly influenced by Huey Long. This list I consider of some importance, because the various characterizations of course always name the pet bête noire of the respective critic and give, therefore, a very good picture of the intellectual destruction and corruption that characterize the contemporary academic world. Understandably, I have never answered such criticisms; critics of this type can become objects of inquiry, but they cannot be partners in a discussion. Anybody with an informed and reflective mind who lives in the twentieth century since the end of the First World War, as I did, finds himself hemmed in, if not oppressed, from all sides by a flood of ideological language—meaning thereby language symbols that pretend to be concepts but in fact are unanalyzed topoi or topics. Moreover, anybody who is exposed to this dominant climate of opinion has to cope with the problem that language is a social phenomenon. He cannot deal with the users of ideological language as partners in a discussion, but he has to make them the object of investigation. There is no community of language with the representatives of the dominant ideologies.

There’s something weird about arguments: They’re the first thing we reach for when we want to change someone’s mind, and yet they’re not very effective at actually changing minds. The more desperate we are to change someone’s mind, the more passionately we argue. And the more passionately we argue, the more defensive each side gets. It’s as if we’re trying to force them into our way of thinking by making our words louder and harsher, but in so doing, we only cause them to dig in their heels more and more, as both sides grow increasingly angry and irrational.

Soc. For, in fact, these alone are goddesses; and all the rest is nonsense. Strep. But come, by the Earth, is not Jupiter, the Olympian, a god? Soc. What Jupiter? Do not trifle. There is no Jupiter. Strep. What do you say? Who rains then? For first of all explain this to me. Soc. These to be sure. I will teach you it by powerful evidence. Come, where have you ever seen him raining at any time without Clouds? And yet he ought to rain in fine weather, and these be absent. Strep. By Apollo, of a truth you have rightly confirmed this by your present argument. And yet, before this, I really thought that Jupiter caused the rain. But tell me who is it that thunders. This makes me tremble. Soc. These, as they roll, thunder. Strep. In what way? you all-daring man! Soc. When they are full of much water, and are compelled to be borne along, being necessarily precipitated when full of rain, then they fall heavily upon each other and burst and clap. Strep. Who is it that compels them to borne along? Is it not Jupiter? Soc. By no means, but aethereal Vortex. Strep. Vortex? It had escaped my notice that Jupiter did not exist, and that Vortex now reigned in his stead.

The Bible Christian Church in Philadelphia struggled along for about a hundred years. Early in the twentieth century it quietly expired. The group initiated the U.S. vegetarian movement and shaped its thesis. Metcalfe gave the cause moral and religious arguments, tended his pastorate, founded the first vegetarian society, edited its magazine, The American Vegetarian, and died in 1862 with full confidence that asparagus seed had a bright future as a coffee substitute; 'already in many places,' he said, 'becoming such a favorite, as to threaten wholly to supplant coffee at the breakfast table.

the AI100 report says there is “no cause for concern that AI is an imminent threat to humankind.” This argument fails on two counts. The first is that it attacks a straw man. The reasons for concern are not predicated on imminence. For example, Nick Bostrom writes in Superintelligence, “It is no part of the argument in this book that we are on the threshold of a big breakthrough in artificial intelligence, or that we can predict with any precision when such a development might occur.” The second is that a long-term risk can still be cause for immediate concern. The right time to worry about a potentially serious problem for humanity depends not just on when the problem will occur but also on how long it will take to prepare and implement a solution.

Most people-all, in fact, who regard the whole heaven as finite-say it lies at the centre. But the Italian philosophers known as Pythagoreans take the contrary view. At the centre, they say, is fire, and the earth is one of the stars, creating night and day by its circular motion about the centre. They further construct another earth in opposition to ours to which they give the name counterearth. In all this they are not seeking for theories and causes to account for observed facts, but rather forcing their observations and trying to accommodate them to certain theories and opinions of their own. But there are many others who would agree that it is wrong to give the earth the central position, looking for confirmation rather to theory than to the facts of observation. Their view is that the most precious place befits the most precious thing: but fire, they say, is more precious than earth, and the limit than the intermediate, and the circumference and the centre are limits. Reasoning on this basis they take the view that it is not earth that lies at the centre of the sphere, but rather fire. The Pythagoreans have a further reason. They hold that the most important part of the world, which is the centre, should be most strictly guarded, and name it, or rather the fire which occupies that place, the 'Guardhouse of Zeus', as if the word 'centre' were quite unequivocal, and the centre of the mathematical figure were always the same with that of the thing or the natural centre. But it is better to conceive of the case of the whole heaven as analogous to that of animals, in which the centre of the animal and that of the body are different. For this reason they have no need to be so disturbed about the world, or to call in a guard for its centre: rather let them look for the centre in the other sense and tell us what it is like and where nature has set it. That centre will be something primary and precious; but to the mere position we should give the last place rather than the first. For the middle is what is defined, and what defines it is the limit, and that which contains or limits is more precious than that which is limited, see ing that the latter is the matter and the former the essence of the system. (2-13-1) There are similar disputes about the shape of the earth. Some think it is spherical, others that it is flat and drum-shaped. For evidence they bring the fact that, as the sun rises and sets, the part concealed by the earth shows a straight and not a curved edge, whereas if the earth were spherical the line of section would have to be circular. In this they leave out of account the great distance of the sun from the earth and the great size of the circumference, which, seen from a distance on these apparently small circles appears straight. Such an appearance ought not to make them doubt the circular shape of the earth. But they have another argument. They say that because it is at rest, the earth must necessarily have this shape. For there are many different ways in which the movement or rest of the earth has been conceived. (2-13-3)

At first my father's job was clearing ruins. He had filed a sharp protest, however, justifying his disability over ten pages of closely spaced handwriting, buttressed by statements from witnesses and discharge papers from clinics for nervous diseases. His arguments were irrefutable, particularly if we take into consideration--aside from the actual facts--his polemical tone and his brilliant style. 'I hereby state for the attention of the esteemed Commissarist,' he wrote in his appeal, 'in connection with Item A-2, in which I took the liberty of citing the causes of my total incapacity and proving--if in a very sensible fashion--my abnormality as well as my complete mental and physical worthlessness, the worthlessness of a neurotic and alcoholic incapable of taking care of his family or himself, I hereby state, therefore, with a view to the most specific information possible on this matter, although each and every one of the aforementioned matters is in itself a physical amputation, I am stating that I am also flat-footed, a certificate to which effect I am appending from the draft board at Zalaegerszeg, by which I am exempt from military service by virtue of 100 percent flat-footedness. . .

I’m not just behaving like an idiot, I’m behaving like my mother – and rush around issuing desperate apologies to everyone concerned. Mum never snapped out of it, never seemed contrite, never appeared to think she was in the wrong or behaving badly. The best you could hope for was a terrible argument – in which, as ever, she had to have the last word – followed by an awkward smoothing over, a shaky truce that lasted until she went off again. As the years passed, she had elevated sulking to an epic, awesome level. She was the Cecil B. DeMille of bad moods, the Tolstoy of taking a huff. I’m exaggerating only slightly. We’re talking about a woman who didn’t speak to her own sister for ten years as a result of an argument over whether Auntie Win had put skimmed milk in her tea or not. A woman whose dedication to sulking was such that, at its height, it literally caused her to pack her entire life up and leave the country. It happened in the eighties; she fell out with me and one of Derf’s sons from his first marriage at the same time and, as a result, emigrated to Menorca. She would rather move to a foreign country than back down or apologize. There’s not an enormous amount of point in trying to reason with someone like that.

Also, I say that although things other than God are actually contingent as regards their actual existence, this is not true with regard to potential existence. Wherefore, those things which are said to be contingent with reference to actual existence are necessary with respect to potential existence. Thus, though "Man exists" is contingent, "It is possible for man to exist" is necessary, because it does not include a contradiction as regards existence. For, for something other than God to be possible, then, is necessary. Being is divided into what must exist and what can but need not be. And just as necessity is of the very essence or constitution of what must be, so possibility is of the very essence of what can but need not be. Therefore, let the former argument be couched in terms of possible being and the propositions will become necessary. Thus: It is possible that something other than God exist which neither exists of itself (for then it would not be possible being) nor exists by reason of nothing. Therefore, it can exist by reason of another. Either this other can both exist and act in virtue of itself and not in virtue of another, or it cannot do so. If it can, then it can be the first cause, and if it can exist, it does exist—as was proved above. If it cannot [both be and act independently of every other thing] and there is no infinite regress, then at some point we end up [with a first cause].

Understand: we can never really experience what other people are experiencing. We always remain on the outside looking in, and this is the cause of so many misunderstandings and conflicts. But the primal source of human intelligence comes from the development of mirror neurons (see here), which gives us the ability to place ourselves in the skin of another and imagine their experience. Through continual exposure to people and by attempting to think inside them we can gain an increasing sense of their perspective, but this requires effort on our part. Our natural tendency is to project onto other people our own beliefs and value systems, in ways in which we are not even aware. When it comes to studying another culture, it is only through the use of our empathic powers and by participating in their lives that we can begin to overcome these natural projections and arrive at the reality of their experience. To do so we must overcome our great fear of the Other and the unfamiliarity of their ways. We must enter their belief and value systems, their guiding myths, their way of seeing the world. Slowly, the distorted lens through which we first viewed them starts to clear up. Going deeper into their Otherness, feeling what they feel, we can discover what makes them different and learn about human nature. This applies to cultures, individuals, and even writers of books. As Nietzsche once wrote, “As soon as you feel yourself against me you have ceased to understand my position and consequently my arguments! You have to be the victim of the same passion.

Theists like Thomas Aquinas have argued that we see from experience that nothing exists without a cause. Since it is unacceptable for a chain of causes to be infinite, the Universe itself must have a first cause. This has been one of the main arguments for the existence of a creator God. Sceptics have always challenged this argument. Since we have no problems imagining an infinite future, it is hard to see any overwhelming reason why the chain of causes in the past should not be infinite. The argument for a creator God also has a very serious logical flaw. It is based on the premise that everything requires a cause - and yet theists accept that one thing does exist without a cause: God himself. This tends to undermine the basic premise of the argument. God is thought to exist without a cause. But if one thing can be self-existing, why can this one thing not be the Universe itself? When we say something has a cause, we mean that something preceded it which brought it about - cause precedes effect. But by definition the Universe includes all time and space, and no time could have preceded it. It seems unreasonable to ask for the cause of a totality that includes all space and all time. The only answer theists provide to this argument is to modify the premise to say “Everything except the first cause requires a cause.” But to sceptics this merely seems like an evasion, not an answer. The idea of a creator God does not really answer the question of cause, but simply pushes it back one level. The question of the cause of God's own existence remains unanswered, yet theists draw a boundary here to our urge to question causes.

Consider a world in which cause and effect are erratic. Sometimes the first precedes the second, sometimes the second the first. Or perhaps cause lies forever in the past while effect in the future, but future and past are entwined. On the terrace of the Bundesterrasse is a striking view: the river Aare below and the Bernese Alps above. A man stands there just now, absently emptying his pockets and weeping. Without reason, his friends have abandoned him. No one calls any more, no one meets him for supper or beer at the tavern, no one invites him to their home. For twenty years he has been the ideal friend to his friends, generous, interested, soft-spoken, affectionate. What could have happened? A week from this moment on the terrace, the same man begins acting the goat, insulting everyone, wearing smelly clothes, stingy with money, allowing no one to come to his apartment on Laupenstrasse. Which was cause and which effect, which future and which past? In Zürich, strict laws have recently been approved by the Council. Pistols may not be sold to the public. Banks and trading houses must be audited. All visitors, whether entering Zürich by boat on the river Limmat or by rail on the Selnau line, must be searched for contraband. The civil military is doubled. One month after the crackdown, Zürich is ripped by the worst crimes in its history. In daylight, people are murdered in the Weinplatz, paintings are stolen from the Kunsthaus, liquor is drunk in the pews of the Münsterhof. Are these criminal acts not misplaced in time? Or perhaps the new laws were action rather than reaction? A young woman sits near a fountain in the Botanischer Garten. She comes here every Sunday to smell the white double violets, the musk rose, the matted pink gillyflowers. Suddenly, her heart soars, she blushes, she paces anxiously, she becomes happy for no reason. Days later, she meets a young man and is smitten with love. Are the two events not connected? But by what bizarre connection, by what twist in time, by what reversed logic? In this acausal world, scientists are helpless. Their predictions become postdictions. Their equations become justifications, their logic, illogic. Scientists turn reckless and mutter like gamblers who cannot stop betting. Scientists are buffoons, not because they are rational but because the cosmos is irrational. Or perhaps it is not because the cosmos is irrational but because they are rational. Who can say which, in an acausal world? In this world, artists are joyous. Unpredictability is the life of their paintings, their music, their novels. They delight in events not forecasted, happenings without explanation, retrospective. Most people have learned how to live in the moment. The argument goes that if the past has uncertain effect on the present, there is no need to dwell on the past. And if the present has little effect on the future, present actions need not be weighed for their consequence. Rather, each act is an island in time, to be judged on its own. Families comfort a dying uncle not because of a likely inheritance, but because he is loved at that moment. Employees are hired not because of their résumés, but because of their good sense in interviews. Clerks trampled by their bosses fight back at each insult, with no fear for their future. It is a world of impulse. It is a world of sincerity. It is a world in which every word spoken speaks just to that moment, every glance given has only one meaning, each touch has no past or no future, each kiss is a kiss of immediacy.

I understood slavery as bad and I had a vague sense that it had once been integral to the country and that the dispute over it had somehow contributed to the civil war. But even that partial sense ran contrary to the way the civil war was presented in the popular culture, as a violent misunderstanding, an honorable dual between wayward brothers instead of what it was. A spectacular chapter in a long war that was declared when the first Africans were brought chained to American shores. When it comes to the civil war, all of our popular understanding, our popular history and culture, our great films, the subtext of our arguments, are in defiance of its painful truths. It is not a mistake that Gone with the Wind is one of the most read works of American literature, or that The Birth of a Nation is the most revered touchstone of all American film. Both emerged from a need for palliatives and painkillers, an escape from the truth of those five short years in which seven hundred fifty thousand American soldiers were killed, more than all American soldiers kill in all other American wars combined, in a war declared for the cause of expanding African slavery. That war was inaugurated, not reluctantly, but lustily by men who believe property in humans to be the cornerstone of civilization, to be an edict of god, and so delivered their own children to his maw. And when that war was done the now defeated god lived on honored through the human sacrifice of lynching and racist programs. The history breaks the myth. And so, the history is ignored and fictions are weaved in to our art and politics that dress villainy in martyrdom, and transform banditry into chivalry. And so strong are these fictions that their emblem, the stars and bars, darkens front porches and state capitol buildings across the land to this day.

Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language — so the argument runs — must inevitably share in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes. Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause, reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible. Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and is not the exclusive concern of professional writers. I will come back to this presently, and I hope that by that time the meaning of what I have said here will have become clearer. Meanwhile, here are five specimens of the English language as it is now habitually written.

It’s so weird that it’s Christmas Eve,” I said, clinking my glass to his. It was the first time I’d spent the occasion apart from my parents. “I know,” he said. “I was just thinking that.” We both dug into our steaks. I wished I’d made myself two. The meat was tender and flavorful, and perfectly medium-rare. I felt like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby, when she barely seared a steak in the middle of the afternoon and devoured it like a wolf. Except I didn’t have a pixie cut. And I wasn’t harboring Satan’s spawn. “Hey,” I began, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been so…so pathetic since, like, the day we got married.” He smiled and took a swig of Dr Pepper. “You haven’t been pathetic,” he said. He was a terrible liar. “I haven’t?” I asked, incredulous, savoring the scrumptious red meat. “No,” he answered, taking another bite of steak and looking me squarely in the eye. “You haven’t.” I was feeling argumentative. “Have you forgotten about my inner ear disturbance, which caused me to vomit all across Australia?” He paused, then countered, “Have you forgotten about the car I rented us?” I laughed, then struck back. “Have you forgotten about the poisonous lobster I ordered us?” Then he pulled out all the stops. “Have you forgotten all the money we lost?” I refused to be thwarted. “Have you forgotten that I found out I was pregnant after we got back from our honeymoon and I called my parents to tell them and I didn’t get a chance because my mom left my dad and I went on to have a nervous breakdown and had morning sickness for six weeks and now my jeans don’t fit?” I was the clear winner here. “Have you forgotten that I got you pregnant?” he said, grinning. I smiled and took the last bite of my steak. Marlboro Man looked down at my plate. “Want some of mine?” he asked. He’d only eaten half of his. “Sure,” I said, ravenously and unabashedly sticking my fork into a big chuck of his rib eye. I was so grateful for so many things: Marlboro Man, his outward displays of love, the new life we shared together, the child growing inside my body. But at that moment, at that meal, I was so grateful to be a carnivore again.

By appealing to the moral and philosophical foundation work of the nation, Lincoln hoped to provide common ground on which good men in both the North and the South could stand. “I am not now combating the argument of necessity, arising from the fact that the blacks are already amongst us; but I am combating what is set up as moral argument for allowing them to be taken where they have never yet been.” Unlike the majority of antislavery orators, who denounced the South and castigated slaveowners as corrupt and un-Christian, Lincoln pointedly denied fundamental differences between Northerners and Southerners. He argued that “they are just what we would be in their situation. If slavery did not now exist amongst them, they would not introduce it. If it did now exist amongst us, we should not instantly give it up. . . . When it is said that the institution exists; and that it is very difficult to get rid of it, in any satisfactory way, I can understand and appreciate the saying. I surely will not blame them for not doing what I should not know how to do myself.” And, finally, “when they remind us of their constitutional rights, I acknowledge them . . . and I would give them any legislation for the reclaiming of their fugitives.” Rather than upbraid slaveowners, Lincoln sought to comprehend their position through empathy. More than a decade earlier, he had employed a similar approach when he advised temperance advocates to refrain from denouncing drinkers in “thundering tones of anathema and denunciation,” for denunciation would inevitably be met with denunciation, “crimination with crimination, and anathema with anathema.” In a passage directed at abolitionists as well as temperance reformers, he had observed that it was the nature of man, when told that he should be “shunned and despised,” and condemned as the author “of all the vice and misery and crime in the land,” to “retreat within himself, close all the avenues to his head and his heart.” Though the cause be “naked truth itself, transformed to the heaviest lance, harder than steel,” the sanctimonious reformer could no more pierce the heart of the drinker or the slaveowner than “penetrate the hard shell of a tortoise with a rye straw. Such is man, and so must he be understood by those who would lead him.” In order to “win a man to your cause,” Lincoln explained, you must first reach his heart, “the great high road to his reason.” This, he concluded, was the only road to victory—to that glorious day “when there shall be neither a slave nor a drunkard on the earth.” Building on his rhetorical advice, Lincoln tried to place

It serves the American socialists as a leading argument in their endeavor to depict American capitalism as a curse of mankind. Reluctantly forced to admit that capitalism pours a horn of plenty upon people and that the Marxian prediction of the masses' progressive impoverishment has been spectacularly disproved by the facts, they try to salvage their detraction of capitalism by describing contemporary civilization as merely materialistic and sham. Bitter attacks upon modem civilization are launched by writers who think that they are pleading the cause of religion. They reprimand our age for its secularism. They bemoan the passing of a way of life in which, they would have us believe, people were not preoccupied with the pursuit of earthly ambitions but were first of ali concerned about the strict observance of their religious duties. They ascribe ali evils to the spread of skepticism and agnosticism and passionately advocate a return to the orthodoxy of ages gone by. It is hard to find a doctrine which distorts history more radically than this antisecularism. There have always been devout men, pure in heart and dedicated to a pious life. But the religiousness of these sincere believers had nothing in common with the established system of devotion. It is a myth that the political and social institutions of the ages preceding modem individualistic philosophy and modem capitalism were imbued with a genuine Christian spirit. The teachings of the Gospels did not determine the official attitude of the governments toward religion. It was, on the contrary, thisworldly concems of the secular rulers—absolute kings and aristocratic oligarchies, but occasionally also revolting peasants and urban mobs—that transformed religion into an instrument of profane political ambitions. Nothing could be less compatible with true religion than the ruthless persecution of dissenters and the horrors of religious crusades and wars. No historian ever denied that very little of the spirit of Christ was to be found in the churches of the sixteenth century which were criticized by the theologians of the Reformation and in those of the eighteenth century which the philosophers of the Enlightenment attacked. The ideology of individualism and utilitarianism which inaugurated modern capitalism brought freedom also to the religious longings of man. It shattered the pretension of those in power to impose their own creed upon their subjects. Religion is no longer the observance of articles enforced by constables and executioners. It is what a man, guided by his conscience, spontaneously espouses as his own faith. Modern Western civilization is thisworldly. But it was precisely its secularism, its religious indifference, that gave rein to the renascence of genuine religious feeling. Those who worship today in a free country are not driven by the secular arm but by their conscience. In complying with the precepts of their persuasion, they are not intent upon avoiding punishment on the part of the earthly authorities but upon salvation and peace of mind.

Marx discovered the significance of economic power; and it is understandable that he exaggerated its status. He and the Marxists see economic power everywhere. Their argument runs: he who has the money has the power; for if necessary, he can buy guns and even gangsters. But this is a roundabout argument. In fact, it contains an admission that the man who has the gun has the power. And if he who has the gun becomes aware of this, then it may not be long until he has both the gun and the money. But under an unrestrained capitalism, Marx’s argument applies, to some extent; for a rule which develops institutions for the control of guns and gangsters but not of the power of money is liable to come under the influence of this power. In such a state, an uncontrolled gangsterism of wealth may rule. But Marx himself, I think, would have been the first to admit that this is not true of all states; that there have been times in history when, for example, all exploitation was looting, directly based upon the power of the mailed fist. And to-day there will be few to support the naïve view that the ‘progress of history’ has once and for all put an end to these more direct ways of exploiting men, and that, once formal freedom has been achieved, it is impossible for us to fall again under the sway of such primitive forms of exploitation. These considerations would be sufficient for refuting the dogmatic doctrine that economic power is more fundamental than physical power, or the power of the state. But there are other considerations as well. As has been rightly emphasized by various writers (among them Bertrand Russell and Walter Lippmann25), it is only the active intervention of the state—the protection of property by laws backed by physical sanctions—which makes of wealth a potential source of power; for without this intervention, a man would soon be without his wealth. Economic power is therefore entirely dependent on political and physical power. Russell gives historical examples which illustrate this dependence, and sometimes even helplessness, of wealth: ‘Economic power within the state,’ he writes26, ‘although ultimately derived from law and public opinion, easily acquires a certain independence. It can influence law by corruption and public opinion by propaganda. It can put politicians under obligations which interfere with their freedom. It can threaten to cause a financial crisis. But there are very definite limits to what it can achieve. Cæsar was helped to power by his creditors, who saw no hope of repayment except through his success; but when he had succeeded he was powerful enough to defy them. Charles V borrowed from the Fuggers the money required to buy the position of Emperor, but when he had become Emperor he snapped his fingers at them and they lost what they had lent.’ The dogma that economic power is at the root of all evil must be discarded. Its place must be taken by an understanding of the dangers of any form of uncontrolled power. Money as such is not particularly dangerous. It becomes dangerous only if it can buy power, either directly, or by enslaving the economically weak who must sell themselves in order to live.

This brings me to an objection to integrated information theory by the quantum physicist Scott Aaronson. His argument has given rise to an instructive online debate that accentuates the counterintuitive nature of some IIT's predictions. Aaronson estimates phi.max for networks called expander graphs, characterized by being both sparsely yet widely connected. Their integrated information will grow indefinitely as the number of elements in these reticulated lattices increases. This is true even of a regular grid of XOR logic gates. IIT predicts that such a structure will have high phi.max. This implies that two-dimensional arrays of logic gates, easy enough to build using silicon circuit technology, have intrinsic causal powers and will feel like something. This is baffling and defies commonsense intuition. Aaronson therefor concludes that any theory with such a bizarre conclusion must be wrong. Tononi counters with a three-pronged argument that doubles down and strengthens the theory's claim. Consider a blank featureless wall. From the extrinsic perspective, it is easily described as empty. Yet the intrinsic point of view of an observer perceiving the wall seethes with an immense number of relations. It has many, many locations and neighbourhood regions surrounding these. These are positioned relative to other points and regions - to the left or right, above or below. Some regions are nearby, while others are far away. There are triangular interactions, and so on. All such relations are immediately present: they do not have to be inferred. Collectively, they constitute an opulent experience, whether it is seen space, heard space, or felt space. All share s similar phenomenology. The extrinsic poverty of empty space hides vast intrinsic wealth. This abundance must be supported by a physical mechanism that determines this phenomenology through its intrinsic causal powers. Enter the grid, such a network of million integrate-or-fire or logic units arrayed on a 1,000 by 1,000 lattice, somewhat comparable to the output of an eye. Each grid elements specifies which of its neighbours were likely ON in the immediate past and which ones will be ON in the immediate future. Collectively, that's one million first-order distinctions. But this is just the beginning, as any two nearby elements sharing inputs and outputs can specify a second-order distinction if their joint cause-effect repertoire cannot be reduced to that of the individual elements. In essence, such a second-order distinction links the probability of past and future states of the element's neighbours. By contrast, no second-order distinction is specified by elements without shared inputs and outputs, since their joint cause-effect repertoire is reducible to that of the individual elements. Potentially, there are a million times a million second-order distinctions. Similarly, subsets of three elements, as long as they share input and output, will specify third-order distinctions linking more of their neighbours together. And on and on. This quickly balloons to staggering numbers of irreducibly higher-order distinctions. The maximally irreducible cause-effect structure associated with such a grid is not so much representing space (for to whom is space presented again, for that is the meaning of re-presentation?) as creating experienced space from an intrinsic perspective.

Today, such studies are illegal. Medical scientists cannot offer inducements like pardons to persuade prisoners to take part in their studies. Although they can award small cash payments to research subjects, they are forbidden from giving anyone so much money or such tempting favors that their compensations might constitute what ethicists term an inappropriate inducement, an irresistible temptation to join the study. Now, more than eighty years after the 1918 flu, people enter studies for several reasons—to get free medical care, to get an experimental drug that, they hope, might cure them of a disease like cancer or AIDS, or to help further scientific knowledge. In theory at least, study participants are supposed to be true volunteers, taking part in research of their own free will. But in 1918, such ethical arguments were rarely considered. Instead, the justification for a risky study with human beings was that it was better to subject a few to a great danger in order to save the many. Prisoners were thought to be the ideal study subjects. They could offer up their bodies for science and, if they survived, their pardons could be justified because they gave something back to society. The Navy inmates were perfect for another reason. Thirty-nine of them had never had influenza, as far as anyone knew. So they might be uniquely susceptible to the disease. If the doctors wanted to deliberately transmit the 1918 flu, what better subjects? Was influenza really so easily transmitted? the doctors asked. Why did some people get it and others not? Why did it kill the young and healthy? Could the wartime disruptions and movements of troops explain the spread of the flu? If it was as contagious as it seemed, how was it being spread? What kind of microorganism was causing the illness? The normal way to try to answer such questions would be to study the spread of the disease in animals. Give the disease to a few cages of laboratory rats, or perhaps to some white rabbits. Isolate whatever was causing the illness. Show how it spread and test ways to protect animals—and people—against the disease. But influenza, it seemed, was a uniquely human disease. No animal was known to be susceptible to it. Medical researchers felt they had no choice but to study influenza in people. Either the Navy doctors were uncommonly persuasive or the enticement of a pardon was overwhelmingly compelling. For whatever reason, the sixty-two men agreed to be subjects in the medical experiment. And so the study began. First the sailors were transferred to a quarantine station on Gallops Island in Boston Harbor. Then the Navy doctors did their best to give the men the flu. Influenza is a respiratory disease—it is spread from person to person, presumably carried on droplets of mucus sprayed in the air when sick people cough or sneeze, or carried on their hands and spread when the sick touch the healthy. Whatever was causing the flu should be present in mucus taken from the ill. The experiments, then, were straightforward. The Navy doctors collected mucus from men who were desperately ill with the flu, gathering thick viscous secretions from their noses and throats. They sprayed mucus from flu patients into the noses and throats of some men, and dropped it into other men’s eyes. In one attempt, they swabbed mucus from the back of the nose of a man with the flu and then directly swabbed that mucus into the back of a volunteer’s nose.

Hyphen This word comes from two Greek words together meaning ‘under one’, which gets nobody anywhere and merely prompts the reflection that argument by etymology only serves the purpose of intimidating ignorant antagonists. On, then. This is one more case in which matters have not improved since Fowler’s day, since he wrote in 1926: The chaos prevailing among writers or printers or both regarding the use of hyphens is discreditable to English education … The wrong use or wrong non-use of hyphens makes the words, if strictly interpreted, mean something different from what the writers intended. It is no adequate answer to such criticisms to say that actual misunderstanding is unlikely; to have to depend on one’s employer’s readiness to take the will for the deed is surely a humiliation that no decent craftsman should be willing to put up with. And so say all of us who may be reading this book. The references there to ‘printers’ needs updating to something like ‘editors’, meaning those who declare copy fit to print. Such people now often get it wrong by preserving in midcolumn a hyphen originally put at the end of a line to signal a word-break: inter-fere, say, is acceptable split between lines but not as part of a single line. This mistake is comparatively rare and seldom causes confusion; even so, time spent wondering whether an exactor may not be an ex-actor is time avoidably wasted. The hyphen is properly and necessarily used to join the halves of a two-word adjectival phrase, as in fair-haired children, last-ditch resistance, falling-down drunk, over-familiar reference. Breaches of this rule are rare and not troublesome. Hyphens are also required when a phrase of more than two words is used adjectivally, as in middle-of-the-road policy, too-good-to-be-true story, no-holds-barred contest. No hard-and-fast rule can be devised that lays down when a two-word phrase is to be hyphenated and when the two words are to be run into one, though there will be a rough consensus that, for example, book-plate and bookseller are each properly set out and that bookplate and book-seller might seem respectively new-fangled and fussy. A hyphen is not required when a normal adverb (i.e. one ending in -ly) plus an adjective or other modifier are used in an adjectival role, as in Jack’s equally detestable brother, a beautifully kept garden, her abnormally sensitive hearing. A hyphen is required, however, when the adverb lacks a final -ly, like well, ill, seldom, altogether or one of those words like tight and slow that double as adjectives. To avoid ambiguity here we must write a well-kept garden, an ill-considered objection, a tight-fisted policy. The commonest fault in the use of the hyphen, and the hardest to eradicate, is found when an adjectival phrase is used predicatively. So a gent may write of a hard-to-conquer mountain peak but not of a mountain peak that remains hard-to-conquer, an often-proposed solution but not of one that is often-proposed. For some reason this fault is especially common when numbers, including fractions, are concerned, and we read every other day of criminals being imprisoned for two-and-a-half years, a woman becoming a mother-of-three and even of some unfortunate being stabbed six-times. And the Tories have been in power for a decade-and-a-half. Finally, there seems no end to the list of common phrases that some berk will bung a superfluous hyphen into the middle of: artificial-leg, daily-help, false-teeth, taxi-firm, martial-law, rainy-day, airport-lounge, first-wicket, piano-concerto, lung-cancer, cavalry-regiment, overseas-service. I hope I need not add that of course one none the less writes of a false-teeth problem, a first-wicket stand, etc. The only guide is: omit the hyphen whenever possible, so avoid not only mechanically propelled vehicle users (a beauty from MEU) but also a man eating tiger. And no one is right and no-one is wrong.

that arguments like yours cannot establish whether the first cause was, or is, alive or conscious—‘and,’ he says, ‘an inanimate, unconscious god is of little use to theism.’ 29 He has a point there, doesn’t he?” “No, I don’t think so,” said Craig. “One of the most remarkable features of the kalam argument is that it gives us more than just a transcendent cause of the universe. It also implies a personal Creator.” “How so?” Craig leaned back into his chair. “There are two types of explanations—scientific and personal,” he began, adopting a more professorial tone. “Scientific explanations explain a phenomenon in terms of certain initial conditions and natural laws, which explain how those initial conditions evolved to produce the phenomenon under consideration. By contrast, personal explanations explain things by means of an agent and that agent’s volition or will.” I interrupted to ask Craig for an illustration. He obliged me by saying: “Imagine you walked into the kitchen and saw the kettle boiling on the stove. You ask, ‘Why is the kettle boiling?’ Your wife might say, ‘Well, because the kinetic energy of the flame is conducted by the metal bottom of the kettle to the water, causing the water molecules to vibrate faster and faster until they’re thrown off in the form of steam.’ That would be a scientific explanation. Or she might say, ‘I put it on to make a cup of tea.’ That would be a personal explanation. Both are legitimate, but they explain the phenomenon in different ways.” So far, so good. “But how does this relate to cosmology?” “You see, there cannot be a scientific explanation of the first state of the universe. Since it’s the first state, it simply cannot be explained in terms of earlier

The first major debate between racists had invaded the English discourse. This argument about the cause of inferior Blackness—curse or climate, nature or nurture—would rage for decades, and eventually influence settlers to America.

When a great deal of later inauthentic imitation has been sifted out, the most compelling of these accounts are more than just edifying guides to do-it-yourself sainthood: they preserve portraits of people in the most extreme of situations, the circumstances of which have released them to behave well beyond convention. Most surprising is the journal of sufferings written in the first decade of the third century by an unusually well-educated, spirited (and Montanist) North African martyr called Perpetua. One of the most remarkable pieces of writing by a woman surviving from the ancient world, its content caused problems to both its editors and to subsequent conventionally minded devotees because it was shot through with her determined individuality and self-assertion. She did not simply defy the authorities but went against the expectations of everyday society (including, of course, Christian everyday society) by disobeying her father, who desperately wanted her to abandon her faith: ‘Father’, I said, ‘for the sake of argument, do you see this vase, or whatever you want to call it, lying here?’ And he said, ‘Yes, I see it’. And I said to him, ‘Can you call it by any other name than what it is?’ And he said ‘No, you can’t’. ‘So’, I said, ‘I cannot call myself anything other than what I am – a Christian’. Merely hearing this word upset my father greatly. He threw himself at me with such violence that it seemed he wanted to tear my eyes out …18 In that charged encounter is a characteristic moment of tension for Christianity: how does one form of authority relate to another, and which is going to prevail? Perpetua was disobedient not just to her father but to the institutional Catholic Church which later enrolled her among its martyrs, because she was a Montanist. Some of the most remarkable passages in her account occur in her description of the second and third dreams or visions that she had in her prison cell.

Traditionally, both Lent and Advent are penitential seasons—not times of overflowing celebrations. This is not something we have sought to cultivate at all, even though we do observe a basic church calendar, made up of what the Reformers called the five evangelical feast days. Our reluctance to adopt this kind of penitential approach to these seasons of the year is not caused by ignorance of the practice. It is a deliberate attempt to lean in the other direction. I want to present three arguments for a rejection of this practice of extended penitential observance. First, if we were to adopt this practice, we would be in worse shape than our Old Covenant brethren, who had to afflict their souls only one day out of the year. Why would the time of anticipation of salvation be so liturgically celebratory, while the times of fulfilled salvation be so liturgically glum? Instead of establishing a sense of longing, it will tend to do the reverse. Second, each penitential season keeps getting interrupted with our weekly Easters. Many who relate exciting movies they have seen to others are careful to avoid “spoilers.” Well, these feasts we have, according to God’s ordinance every seven days, spoil the penitential mood. And last, what gospel is implicitly preached by the practice of drawing out the process of repentance and forgiveness? It is a false gospel. Now I am not saying that fellow Christians who observe their church year in this way are preaching a false gospel, but I am saying that lex orandi lex credendi—the law of prayer is the law of faith, and over time, this liturgical practice will speak very loudly to our descendants. If we have the opportunity to speak to our descendants, and we do, then I want to tell them that the joy of the Lord is our strength.

It is not always necessary that a thing should be proved by something else. For there are some things which are self-evident according to the philosophers (as the highest categories of things, and ultimate differences and first principles) which are not susceptible of demonstration, but are evident by their own light and are taken for granted as certain and indubitable. If perchance anyone denies them, he is not to be met with arguments, but should be committed to the custody of his kinsmen (as a madman); or to be visited with punishment, as one (according to Aristotle) either lacking sense or needing punishment. Aristotle says there are certain axioms which do not have an external reason for their truth 'which must necessarily be and appear to be such per se' (ho anankē einai di’ auto kai dokein anankē, Posterior Analytics 1.10 [Loeb, 70–71]); i.e., they are not only credible (autopiston) of themselves, but cannot be seriously denied by anyone of a sound mind. Therefore since the Bible is the first principle and the primary and infallible truth, is it strange to say that it can be proved by itself? The Bible can prove itself either one part or another when all parts are not equally called into doubt (as when we convince the Jews from the Old Testament); or the whole proving the whole, not by a direct argument of testimony (because it declares itself divine), but by that made artfully (artificiali) and ratiocinative (because in it are discovered divine marks which are not found in the writings of men). Nor is this a begging of the question because these criteria are something distinct from the Scriptures; if not materially, yet formally as adjuncts and properties which are demonstrated with regard to the subject. Nor is one thing proved by another equally unknown because they are better known by us; as we properly prove a cause from its effects, a subject by its properties. The argument of the papists that Scripture cannot be proved by itself (because then it would be more known and more unknown than itself) can with much greater force be turned against the church.

It is not always necessary that a thing should be proved by something else. For there are some things which are self-evident according to the philosophers (as the highest categories of things, and ultimate differences and first principles) which are not susceptible of demonstration, but are evident by their own light and are taken for granted as certain and indubitable. If perchance anyone denies them, he is not to be met with arguments, but should be committed to the custody of his kinsmen (as a madman); or to be visited with punishment, as one (according to Aristotle) either lacking sense or needing punishment. Aristotle says there are certain axioms which do not have an external reason for their truth 'which must necessarily be and appear to be such per se', Posterior Analytics 1.10 [Loeb, 70–71]); i.e., they are not only credible of themselves, but cannot be seriously denied by anyone of a sound mind. Therefore since the Bible is the first principle and the primary and infallible truth, is it strange to say that it can be proved by itself? The Bible can prove itself either one part or another when all parts are not equally called into doubt (as when we convince the Jews from the Old Testament); or the whole proving the whole, not by a direct argument of testimony (because it declares itself divine), but by that made artfully and ratiocinative (because in it are discovered divine marks which are not found in the writings of men). Nor is this a begging of the question because these criteria are something distinct from the Scriptures; if not materially, yet formally as adjuncts and properties which are demonstrated with regard to the subject. Nor is one thing proved by another equally unknown because they are better known by us; as we properly prove a cause from its effects, a subject by its properties. The argument of the papists that Scripture cannot be proved by itself (because then it would be more known and more unknown than itself) can with much greater force be turned against the church.

It is not always necessary that a thing should be proved by something else. For there are some things which are self-evident according to the philosophers which are not susceptible of demonstration, but are evident by their own light and are taken for granted as certain and indubitable. If perchance anyone denies them, he is not to be met with arguments, but should be committed to the custody of his kinsmen (as a madman); or to be visited with punishment, as one (according to Aristotle) either lacking sense or needing punishment. Aristotle says there are certain axioms which do not have an external reason for their truth 'which must necessarily be and appear to be such per se', Posterior Analytics 1.10 [Loeb, 70–71]); i.e., they are not only credible of themselves, but cannot be seriously denied by anyone of a sound mind. Therefore since the Bible is the first principle and the primary and infallible truth, is it strange to say that it can be proved by itself? The Bible can prove itself either one part or another when all parts are not equally called into doubt (as when we convince the Jews from the Old Testament); or the whole proving the whole, not by a direct argument of testimony (because it declares itself divine), but by that made artfully and ratiocinative (because in it are discovered divine marks which are not found in the writings of men). Nor is this a begging of the question because these criteria are something distinct from the Scriptures; if not materially, yet formally as adjuncts and properties which are demonstrated with regard to the subject. Nor is one thing proved by another equally unknown because they are better known by us; as we properly prove a cause from its effects, a subject by its properties. The argument of the papists that Scripture cannot be proved by itself (because then it would be more known and more unknown than itself) can with much greater force be turned against the church.

Since the circle (according to philosophers) is a sophistical argument (by which the same thing is proved by itself) and is occupied about the same kind of cause in a circuit coming back without end into itself, the circle cannot be charged upon us when we prove the Scriptures by the Spirit, and in turn the Spirit from the Scriptures. For here the question is diverse and the means or kind of cause is different. We prove the Scriptures by the Spirit as the efficient cause by which we believe. But we prove the Spirit from the Scriptures as the object and argument on account of which we believe. In the first, the answer is to the question Whence or by what power do you believe the Scriptures to be inspired? (viz., by the Spirit). But in the second, the answer is to the question Why or on account of what do you believe that the Spirit in you is the Holy Spirit? (viz., on account of the marks of the Holy Spirit which are in the Scriptures).

Let us review three cases from widely separated locations in the world. A Tungus shaman in Siberia agrees to the request of tribal hunters to locate game during a poor hunting season. Using a drumming technique, he enters an ASC and provides information to help his hunters. The Western interpretation—if it accepts at all the validity of this kind of information—would be that the shaman calculates the behavior of the game according to weather and well-known environmental conditions. In other words, his is information based on cognitive processing of sensory data. The explanation of the shaman himself is different: Guidance has been provided by forest spirits. On another continent, hunters of the Kalahari !Kung tribe leave the settlement to hunt for a period that may last anywhere from two days to two weeks. The tribe’s timely preparation for the return of successful hunters is necessary for processing the game. The people left behind make the appropriate steps long before the hunters’ reappearance. Their foreknowledge of the hunters’ return could be explained rationally by attributing it to a messenger sent ahead or the use of tam-tam drums or smoke signals. The tribesmen report, however, that it is the spirit of ancestors who informs them when the hunters will return. Next, we move to the Amazon basin. The Shuar shaman is facing a new disease in the community. An herbal remedy is sought by adding leaves of a candidate plant into the hallucinogenic beverage ayahuasca, a sacrament indigenous to the Upper Amazon region. The shaman drinks it and, upon return to ordinary consciousness, decides the usefulness of the plant in question. Is his decision based on accumulation of ethnobotanical knowledge of several generations in combination with trial and error? The headhunter Shuar are not likely to be merciful to an ineffective medicine man, and his techniques must be working. As Luis Eduardo Luna explained to me, according to ayahuasqueros, the spirit of a new plant reveals itself with the help of the spirits associated with the ayahuasca. Sometimes, they also tell which plant to use next. We can point to the following contradiction: Healers from different cultures are unequivocal in their interpretation of the source of knowledge, whereas rational thinkers use diverging, unsystematic explanations. Which side should be slashed with Occam’s razor? Also called the “principle of parsimony,” Occam’s razor is usually interpreted to mean something like “Do not multiply hypotheses unnecessarily” or “Do not posit pluralities unnecessarily when generating explanatory models.” The principle of parsimony is used frequently by philosophers of science in an effort to establish criteria for choosing from theories with equal explanatory power. At first glance it is the “primitives” who multiply causes unnecessarily by referring to the supernatural. Yet Occam’s razor may be applied easily to the rational view, if those arguments are less parsimonious.

First and foremost, it is important to recognize another important reason that arguments with our loved ones can cause so much pain. Most of us think that we are arguing about being right versus being wrong. The truth is, we are almost always arguing about being seen, heard, and understood by our loved ones. It is painful to feel as though someone you love does not understand you in the heat of the moment. It often feels like we are disconnected, and usually that is what hurts more than anything else. This is where a beautiful first step comes in. It is possible to validate a person’s feelings without validating their behavior. If Liam used this tool, he might say to Faith, “Hi, honey. I can see that you’re hurting right now, and I’m sorry for that. However, I don’t like the way you are expressing it, and I would be able to listen better if you could change your approach to become gentler.” Although this might seem like a small trick, it works wonders. The impact of being able to validate a loved one’s emotions in the heat of the moment is profound. It completely removes the helplessness, feelings of being misunderstood, and feeling shamed. More importantly, it prevents the defense mechanism from being tripped due to the stored subconscious associations around conflict. As a result, the individual on the receiving end of this statement is likely to be calmed down instead of fired up.

As a threefold cause can be granted for the manifestation of anything (an objective, efficient and instrumental or organic), so a threefold question can arise about the divinity of the Bible: the first, concerning the argument on account of which I believe; the second, concerning the principle or efficient cause from which I am led to believe; the third, concerning the means and instrument through which I believe. And to this triple question a triple reply can be given. For the Bible with its own marks is the argument on account of which I believe. The Holy Spirit is the efficient cause and principle from which I am induced to believe. But the church is the instrument and means through which I believe. Hence if the question is why, or on account of what, do I believe the Bible to be divine, I will answer that I do so on account of the Scripture itself which by its marks proves itself to be such. If it is asked whence or from what I believe, I will answer from the Holy Spirit who produces that belief in me. Finally, if I am asked by what means or instrument I believe it, I will answer through the church which God uses in delivering the Scriptures to me.

By the late 1830s and ’40s, when Margaret was a young single woman living in Providence, Boston, and Cambridge, New England had become the first region in the country with a shortage of men. The overcrowded job market and economic volatility that drove her lawyer father back to farming and her younger brothers to seek employment in the South and West created this imbalance, leaving one third of Boston’s female population unmarried. Little wonder that Margaret toyed for a while with the notion that only an unmarried woman could “represent the female world.” Her argument was theoretical: American wives belonged by law to their husbands and could not act independently. Yet she also spoke for a surging population of women, many of them single, who sought usefulness outside the home and who readily joined the political life of the nation by advocating causes from temperance to abolition long before they gained the right to vote.

In other words, under normal circumstances the rider takes its cue from the elephant, just as a lawyer takes instructions from a client. But if you force the two to sit around and chat for a few minutes, the elephant actually opens up to advice from the rider and arguments from outside sources. Intuitions come first, and under normal circumstances they cause us to engage in socially strategic reasoning, but there are ways to make the relationship more of a two-way street.

What is the probability that their faculties are reliable? What is P(R/(N8cE8cQ), specified not to us, but to them? According to Quine and Popper, the probability in question would be rather high: belief is connected with action in such a way that extensive false belief would lead to maladaptive behavior, in which case it is likely that the ancestors of those creatures would have displayed that pathetic but praiseworthy tendency Quine mentions. But now for the contrary argument. First, perhaps it is likely that their behavior is adaptive; but nothing follows about their beliefs. We aren't given, after all, that their beliefs are so much as causally connected with their behavior; for we aren't given that their beliefs are more than mere epiphenomena, not causally involved with behavior at all. Perhaps their beliefs neither figure into the causes of their behavior, nor are caused by that behavior. (No doubt beliefs would be caused by something in or about these creatures, but it need not be by their behavior.) You may object that as you use 'belief, beliefs just are among the processes (neural structures, perhaps) that (together with desire, fear, and the like) are causally efficacious. Fair enough (you have a right to use that word as you please); but then my point can be put as follows: in that use of belief it may be that things with propositional contents are not beliefs, that is, do not have causal efficacy. It can't be a matter of definition that there are neural structures or processes displaying both propositional content and causal efficacy with respect to behavior; and perhaps the things that display causal efficacy do not display the sort of relation to content (to a proposition) that a belief of the proposition p must display toward p. You say that in that case the things, if any, that stand in that relation to a proposition would not be beliefs (because, as you see it, beliefs must have causal efficacy). Well, there is no sense in arguing about words: I'll give you the term 'belief and put my case using other terms. What I say is possible is that the things (mental acts, perhaps) that stand in that relation to content (to propositions) do not also enjoy causal efficacy. Call those things whatever you like: they are the things that are true or false, and it is about the likelihood of their truth or falsehood that we are asking. If these things, whatever we call them, are not causally connected with behavior, then they would be, so to speak, invisible to evolution; and then the fact that they arose during the evolutionary history of these beings would confer no probability on the idea that they are mostly true, or mostly nearly true, rather than wildly false. Indeed, the probability of their being for the most part true would have to be estimated as fairly low.

Nigga, you ain’t gotta know her like that to love her! You been boiling over and mad at the world for five years! And it always shows during the Christmas holiday. It’s called soul ties! Love at first sight type shit. You a cold nigga for asking for that money back, though. That girl might need that for child support, and groceries cause yo’ daughter can eat. Her lil’ greedy ass is still in the kitchen. She done stole my mama and won’t share any of the cookies. We even got into a lil argument; you know when I get high, I like to snack. Ion like that shit. She better hope I feel like going out and getting her lil’ ass a Christmas gift.” He shook his head and I had to laugh at his ass

I first became aware of this phenomenon while litigating closed head injuries, when my expert witnesses would make a very compelling argument that just because a person suffered a trauma to his or her brain causing permanent damage to their prefrontal cortex, the region involved in higher level cognition, other, less rational, competing areas of the brain would attempt to fill the void, almost always with undesirable consequences.

COSMOLOGICAL ARGUMENT The First Cause Argument The real problem with the first cause argument is not if God or anything else needed a cause but if the first cause is necessary for anything. If the Ultimate Being, or Absolute, always existed, nothing else exists or can exist outside of it except a transformation, “creation,” or recreation within the Absolute. Absolute Being is not the first cause of the world. We must agree with Russel that the world is without a cause. The view that the Absolute (in someone’s eyes, God) is without a cause does not mean that the world had a different, specific cause. The world is the Absolute itself or emanation of it. The world is the life of the Absolute (or God, but not a God from religious books), not something “different” from the Absolute. Therefore, neither the Absolute, God, Nothingness, nor the Universe need a cause because they are all the Absolute itself. Absolute is the causeless cause operating within itself. The world is a manifestation of the Absolute and its celebration, lovemaking between the Being and Nonbeing in the form of the cosmic fireworks for the hidden eyes of the Absolute. The World is a causeless cause's transformation, creation, or Recreation. The Nothingness and the Being or Something are eternal and, therefore, are without a cause. The real question for atheists is how something can appear out of nothing at some point. Believing that something can come out from nothing is way less believable than the idea that there is an eternal Being that does not need a cause. We may call it whatever name we choose, but it is not necessarily incompatible with science. The limitations of science and its limited outreach cannot serve as proof against the eternal source of everything. Limitations are only proof of the level of science at some point. There is no absolute knowledge, and we can say, with almost absolute certainty, that humans cannot acquire absolute knowledge. Even if this were possible, humans would no longer be humans but be something else.

The Argument from Design Based on Russell's treatment of this argument, we assume that Russel expected that the world's creation, by design, had to be perfect. But, as with all other arguments, we must establish what design and perfection mean. If we do not clearly define what design is and what perfection is, we are applying our judgments to something either undefined or loosely defined. Evolutionary theory, be it Darwin’s theory, cannot be proof of a bad design of the world. Anomalies or shortages in the world are not proof of a bad design. Imperfections are needed in the world and serve a higher purpose. Let’s say that God if he existed, wanted to create the perfect world. This perfect world would be sterile. In the perfect world, there would be no cosmic hierarchies, lows, and highs, enough friction to sustain life as something whose purpose is not to be made perfect from the beginning but to seek perfection, to make “progress” in myriad ways toward the main purpose which is life itself. Life, by definition, is not perfect. Perfect life is not a real life. The purpose of design is not to predict a Ku Klux Klan or the fascists and eliminate them from the design before any creation but to put the “engine” of the vast Universe in motion, to enable the world to seek its paths freely, without a God playing dice. That is where determinism and free will come together to create a sensible world. Design does not mean playing dice, nor necessarily creating something new, but the creator offers himself an exit to exist in an ever-new world, a new form with meaning. We also may say that in the Universe or Omniverse, beyond our knowledge, there can be not only thirty-six (to make a comparison with dice) but a googolplex of universes (dice), and the possibility for combinations is infinite. “Impossibility to prove God” is not proof that God does not exist. Russel would argue that the burden of proof is on the person making a claim, but the world itself is proof of God’s existence. The solution to this enigma is to recognize that the world is God. The problem is not belief or disbelief, first cause, natural law or good or bad design, or any other argument for the existence or against the existence of God; the problem is in our understanding and consensus about the idea of what God is. Argumentation or proof can never be shifted to only one side. Something so obvious as the world does not need proof but understanding that the world is also, in its deepest nature, God itself. We can fight as long as we want, but if we fight from different positions for the sake of different positions, we are not going anywhere. God is not the same for the theist or the deist. Christian God is so far from Spinoza’s idea about God. The majority of people who are atheists today are atheists more in revolt against nominal, official religions and not necessarily in revolt against God if this God was better defined or approached from an angle unaffected by religions.

Some would claim the answer to these questions is that there is a God who chose to create the universe that way. It is reasonable to ask who or what created the universe, but if the answer is God, then the question has merely been deflected to that of who created God. In this view it is accepted that some entity exists that needs no creator, and that entity is called God. This is known as the first-cause argument for the existence of God. We claim, however, that it is possible to answer these questions purely within the realm of science, and without invoking any divine beings.

The first major debate between racists had invaded the English discourse. This argument about the cause of inferior Blackness—curse or climate, nature or nurture—would rage for decades, and eventually influence settlers to America. Curse theorists were the first known segregationists. They believed that Black people were naturally and permanently inferior, and totally incapable of becoming White. Climate theorists were the first known assimilationists, believing Black people had been nurtured by the hot sun into a temporary inferiority, but were capable of becoming White if they moved to a cooler climate.

The aspiring dictator may not be able to identify in philosophic terms the clash between reason and his particular schemes. But he, too, is aware of it. In some (usually unverbalized) form, he knows that he cannot demand unthinking obedience from men, or gain their consent to the permanent rule of brutality, until he has first persuaded his future subjects to ditch their brains and their independent, self-assertive judgment. He knows that he can succeed only with a populace conditioned to seek neither evidence nor argument, a populace which, having shrugged aside the demands of logic, will agree with, and then endure, anything. Hence the spectacle of statists, of every variety and throughout history, both before and during their period in power, systematically attacking the mind. In some terms, these men have grasped that their political goals cannot be achieved until the proper epistemological base is established. Hitler grasped it, too.

When the Sky Woman was pleased with this new world, the Creator sent First Man down to be her husband and help her care for the new land. At first they were happy, but eventually they began to argue. After one particularly bitter argument, Sky Woman grabbed her belongings and walked away from her husband. “I am going to find somewhere else to live,” she said. “You are lazy and you ignore me all the time.” She turned her back on him and left. Soon, First Man began to regret his harsh words, and he tried to catch up with his wife so he could apologize. But after struggling to reach her, he realized that she was simply too far ahead of him. He cried to the Creator, “Slow her down, Creator! I want to tell her how much she means to me!” The Creator heard his cries and answered, “Is her soul one with yours?” “We have been one since time began,” First Man answered. “We have been one since you breathed life into us, and we will remain one until the end of time.” The Creator was touched by the man’s words, and he intervened to stop her. As the woman walked, he caused plants to grow at her feet to slow her down. On one side of her, blackberries sprang up, and on the other, huckleberries, but she avoided them and walked on. He made gooseberries and serviceberries grow on either side of her, but she kept going. Finally the Creator grabbed a handful of strawberry plants that were growing in his garden and cast them down in front of her, where they began to bloom and ripen. The berries looked so good, Sky Woman paused to try one. As she picked and ate the berries, her anger disappeared, and while she filled her basket with the fruit, she began to wish that her husband was there to share it with her. Just then, First Man appeared, his heart full of gladness to have found his wife. With a smile, she took a strawberry from her basket and placed it in his mouth. He smiled with pleasure and gave thanks to the Creator. Together they returned home hand in hand, eating strawberries along the way.

Your dad's been approached by the Democratic Party to run for the United States Senate. We haven't made a decision yet, we wanted to talk to you two first and see how you feel about it," Kane said, sliding an arm around each child. "But you're a Republican, Daddy. Are you going to vote for Dad?" Autumn asked Kane. That made him smile, and he looked over at Avery who actually laughed. It had been years and years of heated arguments about their difference in political views that caused the worry from his daughter. "If we agree to do this, I'll vote for your dad," Kane promised reassuringly. "So you're gonna change your vote?" Robert asked, clearly not believing it for even a minute. "I will for him, honey, but that's not the issue. This is gonna affect each of us, and we all need to be a part of the decision whether he moves forward with this or not." Kane pulled in both arms he had around their shoulders, drawing them in for a hug. He was so proud.

AT FIRST SIGHT   Looking up at me she does question the beauty that most men believe her to possess with an almost displeased notion of herself. Her eyes seem to almost deepen with a sorrow that only I feel impelled to acknowledge. It is her second take of me that gives her away and it is her argument of self that moves me with a determination to reveal within her all that causes me to marvel. I feel anxious to know her and anxious to explain to this beauteous creature why there is no need to question. For the first time in my life I feel a desire in my heart to give this woman the one true peace that I have only now found. Only in the eyes of such grace, whose heart longs for those answers do I now feel relinquished to impart. Her haunting eyes seem to climb inside of my body where my soul can rest no more. It is her faint smile that lifts me up and tears me down. It is this feeling that I now consider to be that great mystery–even that mystery worth knowing and loving for as long as my body gives me breath.

Arguments about debt have been going on for at least five thousand years. For most of human history—at least, the history of states and empires—most human beings have been told that they are debtors.4 Historians, and particularly historians of ideas, have been oddly reluctant to consider the human consequences, especially since this situation—more than any other—has caused continual outrage and resentment. Tell people they are inferior, they are unlikely to be pleased, but this surprisingly rarely leads to armed revolt. Tell people that they are potential equals who have failed and that therefore, even what they do have they do not deserve, that it isn’t rightly theirs, and you are much more likely to inspire rage. Certainly

If you follow events backwards through time, you will always find a preceding event that led to it, but theists reason that this chain of events could not go on forever. Something must have started all of it into motion. Since events cannot cause themselves, something else must have existed first to cause all of these things. This might seem like a reasonable argument, but it falls victim to the same problem as the hypothetical God behind the argument from design, as discussed in Chapter 1: if everything has a cause or a creator, then who created God? And who, then, created the entity that created God? Rather than solving the problem of infinite causality, the cosmological argument simply recreates the problem using different terms. God is used as an answer, but in reality, the issue of God simply raises new questions. You cannot solve a mystery by using a bigger mystery as the answer.

Unusual as this may seem, I was relieved that Nigel hadn’t fatally injured Silas,” Lucetta added as she inched just a little closer to Bram, enjoying the feel of his hand settled against her back and the fact that his large form was blocking her from some of the wind. “He’s an evil man—there’s no question about that—but . . . I wouldn’t have wanted him dead, no matter his transgressions.” Millie turned and considered Lucetta and Bram for a moment. “You do know that, as your acting chaperone, I’m supposed to insist that the two of you maintain a few inches of separation from each other at all times, and . . . I believe the recommended space to be maintained is six inches.” Lucetta blinked. “Is that an actual chaperoning rule, or one you just made up?” Frowning, Millie wrinkled her nose. “Abigail told me to enforce that particular rule at all times, but . . .” She gave a sad shake of her head. “I’m afraid I’ve been negligent in enforcing it, what with all the dangerous situations, arguments between you and your mother that pulled at everyone’s heartstrings, except perhaps Nigel’s—since I’m not certain he has a heart—and . . . Well, let us not forget the emotional toll returning to Virginia took on you in the first place.” Bram’s brows drew together as he caught Millie’s eye. “And what does that have to do with you being negligent in your duties?” “Lucetta needed comforting, of course, and I certainly wasn’t going to stand in the way of her getting that comfort from you.” As Bram and Millie continued bantering, Lucetta couldn’t help but think that Millie was exactly right. She had been emotionally exhausted throughout the time they’d spent in Virginia, coming to terms with her anger at her father, and coming to terms with the animosity she’d been holding for far too long against her mother. Bram had been a rock beside her through everything, and . . . oddly enough, she had not been opposed to the idea of leaning on that rock, nor had she been embarrassed that she’d needed his strength to soothe her when she felt a little overwhelmed, and . . . “. . . so don’t despair about your chaperoning abilities,” Bram was saying, tugging Lucetta straight back to the conversation at hand. “Since I’m fairly certain the six-inch rule isn’t a real rule, you’ve not failed as a chaperone just yet.” “I’m hoping I’m never called upon to chaperone again,” Millie said with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s far more difficult than I ever imagined, and definitely not for the faint of heart. Although . . . for the most part, you and Lucetta didn’t cause me too many difficulties.” Lucetta

It would have been amazing enough if Jesus had said, "I always turn the other cheek when someone wrongs me," or "I refuse to return violence when violence is done to me." After all, Jesus is the Son of God, and we expect him to be nice. Unfortunately, Jesus commanded his disciples—us, those who presumed to follow him—to behave nonviolently. How do we get back at our enemies? "Love your enemies!" What are we to do when we are persecuted for following Jesus? "Pray for those who persecute you." Thus, we have many instances in the New Testament of people violating and killing the followers of Jesus. But we have not one single instance of any of his followers defending themselves against violence, except for Peter's inept, rebuked attempt at sword play. This consistent, right-to-the-end, to-the-point-of-death nonviolence of Jesus has been that which Jesus' followers have most attempted to modify. When it comes to violence in service of a good cause, we deeply wish Jesus had said otherwise. There are many rationales for the "just war," or for self-defense, capital punishment, abortion, national security, or military strength. None of them, you will note, is able to make reference to Jesus or to the words or deeds of any of his first followers. You can argue that violence is sometimes effective, or justified by the circumstances, or a possible means to some better end, or practiced by every nation on the face of the earth—but you can't drag Jesus into the argument with you. This has always been a source of annoyance and has provoked some fancy intellectual footwork on the part of those who desire to justify violence. Sorry, Jesus just won't cooperate.

Problem #5: Critical Attitudes Stress is often caused by working with or for someone who is supercritical. People will get hooked into either trying to win over the critical person, which can almost never be done, or by allowing the person to provoke them to anger. Some people internalize the criticism and get down on themselves. All of these reactions indicate an inability to stand apart from the critical person and keep one’s boundaries. Allow these critical people to be who they are, but keep yourself separate from them and do not internalize their opinion of you. Make sure you have a more accurate appraisal of yourself, and then disagree internally. You may also want to confront the overly critical person according to the biblical model (Matt. 18). At first tell her how you feel about her attitude and the way it affects you. If she is wise, she will listen to you. If not, and her attitude is disruptive to others as well, two or more of you might want to talk to her. If she will not agree to change, you may want to tell her that you do not wish to talk with her until she gets her attitude under control. Or you can follow the company’s grievance policy. The important thing to remember is that you can’t control her, but you can choose to limit your exposure to her, either physically or emotionally distancing yourself from her. This is self-control. Avoid trying to gain the approval of this sort of person. It will never work, and you will only feel controlled. And avoid getting in arguments and discussions. You will never win. Remember the proverb, “Whoever corrects a mocker invites insult; whoever rebukes a wicked man incurs abuse. Do not rebuke a mocker or he will hate you; rebuke a wise man and he will love you” (Prov. 9:7–8). If you allow them to draw you in, thinking that you will change them, you are asking them for trouble. Stay separate. Keep your boundaries. Don’t get sucked into their game. Problem

At the beginning of the fourth century, in Alexandria in the north of Egypt, a theologian named Arius began teaching that the Son was a created being, and not truly God. He did so because he believed that God is the origin and cause of everything, but is not caused to exist by anything else. ‘Uncaused’ or ‘Unoriginate’, he therefore held, was the best basic definition of what God is like. But since the Son, being a son, must have received his being from the Father, he could not, by Arius’ definition, be God. The argument persuaded many; it did not persuade Arius’ brilliant young contemporary, Athanasius. Believing that Arius had started in the wrong place with his basic definition of God, Athanasius dedicated the rest of his life to proving how catastrophic Arius’ thinking was for healthy Christian living. Actually, I’ve put it much too mildly: Athanasius simply boggled at Arius’ presumption. How could he possibly know what God is like other than as he has revealed himself? ‘It is,’ he said, ‘more pious and more accurate to signify God from the Son and call Him Father, than to name Him from His works only and call Him Unoriginate.’2 That is to say, the right way to think about God is to start with Jesus Christ, the Son of God, not some abstract definition we have made up like ‘Uncaused’ or ‘Unoriginate’. In fact, we should not even set out in our understanding of God by thinking of God primarily as Creator (naming him ‘from His works only’) – that, as we have seen, would make him dependent on his creation. Our definition of God must be built on the Son who reveals him. And when we do that, starting with the Son, we find that the first thing to say about God is, as it says in the creed, ‘We believe in one God, the Father.’ That different starting point and basic understanding of God would mean that the gospel Athanasius preached simply felt and tasted very different from the one preached by Arius. Arius would have to pray to ‘Unoriginate’. But would ‘Unoriginate’ listen? Athanasius could pray ‘Our Father’. With ‘The Unoriginate’ we are left scrambling for a dictionary in a philosophy lecture; with a Father things are familial. And if God is a Father, then he must be relational and life-giving, and that is the sort of God we could love.

Thomas Aquinas famously laid out five arguments for the existence of God, but he characterized one of them as “the first and more manifest way.” This is the proof from motion, which can be presented simply and schematically as follows. Things move. Since nothing moves itself, everything that is moved must be moved by another. If that which causes the motion is itself being moved, then it must be moved by another. This process cannot go on to infinity. Therefore, there must exist a first unmoved mover, which all people call God.

At 9.03 pm on June 21, 1982 Diana produced the son and heir which was cause for national rejoicing. When the Queen came to visit her grandchild the following day her comment was typical. As she looked at the tiny bundle she said drily: “Thank goodness he hasn’t got ears like his father.” The second in line to the throne was still known officially as “Baby Wales” and it took the couple several days of discussion before they arrived at a name. Prince Charles admitted as much: “We’ve thought of one or two. There’s a bit of an argument about it, but we’ll find one eventually.” Charles wanted to call his first son “Arthur” and his second “Albert”, after Queen Victoria’s consort. William and Harry were Diana’s choices while her husband’s preferences were taken into account in their children’s middle names.

In 2004, the atheist world was shocked when famed British atheist Antony Flew announced that he believed in the existence of God. For decades he had heralded the cause of atheism. It was the incredible complexity of DNA that opened his eyes: In a recent interview, Flew stated, “It now seems to me that the findings of more than fifty years of DNA research have provided materials for a new and enormously powerful argument to design.” Flew also renounced naturalistic theories of evolution: “It has become inordinately difficult even to begin to think about constructing a naturalistic theory of the evolution of that first reproducing organism.

I think paranoia is an unavoidable moment in the discovery of truth for a variety of reasons. First, you could say that paranoia is the structure of 'knowledge' as a chain of signifiers: S1 --> S2 --> S3, etc. That is, just as knowledge works by perpetually adding new signifiers, so paranoia is characterised by the endless work of adding new connections. In McCarthyism, we discover that x is friends with y who has a business in z which has been the recipient of Soviet bloc investment. Or that a is a supporter of the Palestinian cause which often also gets the support of b who is friendly with c who has said antisemitic things. That's the logic of paranoia. And it's why you might find it difficult to argue with conspiracy theorists however absurd their claims are because, as soon as you knock down one part of their argument, they can invoke dozens of other supports which don't have to hang coherently together. Second, perhaps you could say that paranoia is a moment in the discovery of truth in the Cartesian/Augustinian sense: to arrive at certainty, you have to suppose that everything you perceive is the result of deception by an evil demon (of which the contemporary equivalent is the Matrix, or better yet the Truman Show). Or, at a stretch, in the sense Hegel discusses in the Phenomology: there is a moment when the object appears to have a deeper 'essence' that is not accessible in its appearance. In a manner of speaking, you feel the object is deceiving you, until you press forward and discover the the indecipherable 'essence' is actually in the form of the object's appearance. But this suggests that the "labour of the negative", as Hegel calls it, necessitates a moment of solipsistic despair, panic, the sense of being at the centre of an entirely simulated reality that is motivated by some nefarious Other's bad libido. [...] So, [in society today] paranoia might be unavoidable. But obviously it's a very, very bad place to get stuck. Politically, the logic is most often turned against the Left by its opponents, and within the Left usually appears as a disintegrative moment, when it starts operating as a circular firing-squad, and you get practices of snitch-jacketing or ill-founded 'calling out'. But more fundamentally, it's bad hermeneutics. Being stuck in paranoia means fortifying oneself against doubt, so that all evidence essentially becomes evidence for a delusional structure of certitude. It means that we lose the capacity for critical thinking, for the labour of the negative through which any lucid totalisation might be possible. The reparative moment comes when we stop making 'connections', and instead introduce the cut, the disconnect. That's when we say, "look, this argument might often be used for bad purposes, or it might be wrong in its current articulation, but there are ways to think with it to make a better argument." Or, "x might be friends with y, but that doesn't mean x approves of or was complicit in anything wicked that y has done, and actually everything we know about x makes such complicity racingly unlikely." And so on. The cut is reparative because it militates against the tendency toward social decomposition. The cut is the starting point for a critical procedure that takes all of the reasons for paranoia into account, fully acknowledges their force, but then integrates them into a strategy for repairing the social link.

The problem did not lie with Lewis’s rejection of naturalism. Anscombe made it clear from the outset in her presentation of February 1948 that she agreed with Lewis that naturalism is untenable. Yet she did not regard his specific argument, as set out in the first edition of Miracles, as being sufficiently rigorous to justify this conclusion. Her main concern related to Lewis’s insistence that naturalism was “irrational.”[546] Anscombe made the entirely fair point—which will probably cross the mind of any informed reader of Lewis’s original chapter—that not all natural causes are “irrational.” Anscombe rightly pointed out that many (probably most) natural causes can legitimately be described simply as “non-rational.” If rational thought is produced by natural “non-rational” causes, there is no need to doubt its “validity” for that reason—unless those causes can be shown to predispose it to false or unreasonable beliefs.

For someone who is fifty pounds overweight, losing three to five pounds over half a year is a frustrating drop in the bucket. Accordingly, a stock response to these studies has been to declare exercise futile for trimming your waist. Before we entirely dismiss the weight control benefits of walking, the most fundamental type of endurance physical activity, let’s examine the major arguments behind this contention through the lens of evolutionary anthropology. The first is the specter of compensatory mechanisms, notably fatigue and hunger. If I walk ten thousand extra steps, I’ll be more tired and hungry, so I’ll rest and eat more to recoup lost calories. From an evolutionary perspective, these urges make sense. Because natural selection ultimately favors those who can allocate as much energy as possible to reproduction, our physiology has been tuned over millions of generations to hoard energy, especially fat. Further, because almost no one until recently was able to become overweight or obese, our bodies primarily sense if we are gaining or losing weight rather than how much excess fat we have. Whether you are skinny or stout, negative energy balance—including dieting—causes a starvation response that helps us restore energetic equilibrium or, better yet, gain weight so we can shunt more energy toward reproduction.35 It’s unfair, but losing ten pounds elicits food cravings and the desire to be inactive regardless of whether one is skinny or obese.

The most common arguments against using exercise to control weight are that calories from diet dwarf those spent on physical activity and that exercise increases hunger and fatigue, thus supposedly causing us to compensate by eating more and becoming couch potatoes after we exercise. A two-mile walk burns about 100 more calories than sitting, but that refreshing Coca-Cola afterward contains 140 calories. However, studies show that people who exercise more don’t necessarily compensate by eating more and they usually don’t become less active for the rest of the day.5 It is untrue you can’t lose weight by exercising. Instead, weight loss from exercise is much slower and more gradual than weight loss from dieting. Over the course of a year, walking an extra two miles a day can potentially lead to five pounds of weight loss. In addition, exercise definitely helps prevent weight regain following a diet, and likely plays a major role in preventing weight gain in the first place.6

The antislavery Vermont Republican Charles Rich delivered a full refutation of the slaveholders, and with it a summation of an emerging antislavery constitutionalism.104 Although it pained him to oppose his longtime southern Republican allies, Rich said, he found it impossible to square the first principles of either the Declaration of Independence or the preamble of the Constitution with slavery. Although slavery existed at the nation’s founding, this misfortune hardly necessitated slavery’s continued existence. “By what charter of a national character,” he asked, “[has] a right to hold a human being in slavery … ever been recognised?” The absence of the word “slavery” in the Constitution signaled that, although “for obvious reasons, [the framers] were obliged indirectly to admit the fact of its existence, they purposely, and very carefully, avoided the use of any expressions from which, by fair construction, even an argument could be derived in favor of its legitimacy.” Any justification for slavery would have to be derived “by a reference to the laws of nature and natural rights, and not to the Constitution.” As slavery was strictly an unfortunate local institution, Rich asserted, Americans had an obligation, in accord with the laws of nature and natural rights, to prevent its extension, The Missouri question presented to the nation an irrevocable choice: Hitherto, slavery has not been so recognized by the General Government, as to cause our national character to be materially affected by it; for, although there are States in the Union which, from the necessity of the case, may be termed slave-holding States, it cannot, with truth, be alleged that, as a nation, we have permitted slavery. But if, under present circumstances, Congress shall solemnly decide that it cannot restrain the unlimited extension of it, and that a want of power to do so results from an unqualified recognition of it by the Constitution, our national character will become identified with it; and instead of its being, as heretofore, a local malady, and susceptible of cure, it must henceforth be regarded as affecting the whole system, and past the hope or possibility of a remedy. Rich bade his colleagues and countrymen to join in limiting “an evil which cannot at present be removed” or “diminished by dispersion”—hemming it in and keeping it a local institution “till removed, and our national character thereby preserved.”105

There can only be one God according to these arguments for many reasons. First, the God of the Cosmological argument is infinite48since every finite thing needs a cause. And there cannot be two infinite Beings. For in order for there to be two beings of the same kind, they would have to differ. But two infinite Beings do not differ; they are the same kind of Being, namely, infinite. Second, the theistic God (of the Moral Argument) is absolutely perfect.

Joy, unless you gonna pull that curtain down and get on some dick, we ain’t got nothing to talk about right now.” She folded her arms, my little stubborn one. I couldn’t front like her being stubborn wasn’t a turn on. I loved that shit about her because we were both stubborn. Do you know how good sex was when you both were bull headed. That good ass stubborn sex knocked a nigga out every time, ‘cause we were both trying to outdo the other. I turned my wife into a freak because her ass had won the last two rounds. Especially after our first argument. It was like she was trying to get payback for me yelling at her.

At the beginning of the twenty-first century, physicians such as Iain McInnes were finding out that new biologic drugs designed for inflammatory conditions like rheumatoid arthritis could treat symptoms of depression. A number of researchers have since trawled back through the results of clinical trials that tested anti-inflammatory drugs for various chronic inflammatory conditions such as rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, psoriasis, asthma and inflammatory bowel disease. They were particularly interested in trials that also reported data for symptoms of depression as a secondary outcome. The overwhelming picture is that anti-inflammatory drugs – from older, generalized drugs such as ibuprofen and aspirin to new, targeted monoclonal antibodies – tend to improve depressive symptoms.22 One study, carried out in 2020, was able to look at very detailed patient data from eighteen clinical trials and factored in patients’ physical improvements. These trials had used a range of new anti-inflammatory drugs designed to target the inflammation behind various autoimmune diseases. Two drugs in particular demonstrated an improvement in low mood, regardless of improvement in physical symptoms. These were both antibody drugs that specifically targeted pro-inflammatory cytokines: sirukumab relieves rheumatoid arthritis by targeting IL-6, and ustekinumab treats psoriasis by blocking the cytokines for IL-12 and IL-23. Here we have data to back up Iain McInnes’s observations in his arthritis clinic: anti-inflammatory medication treating the psychological symptoms of depression, regardless of the state of physical symptoms. This doesn’t just help to strengthen an argument for inflammation causing some forms of depression; it offers hope of a treatment.

variable. In social science, this is called a nomothetic mode of explanation—the isolation of the most important factors. This approach is consistent with the philosophy of seeking complete but parsimonious explanations in science.1 The second part involves addressing those variables that were not considered as being of most relevance. Regarding the first part, the specification of the “most important” independent variables is a judicious undertaking. The use of a nomothetic strategy implies that a range of plausible models exists—different analysts may identify different sets of “most important” independent variables. Analysts should ask which different factors are most likely to affect or cause their dependent variable, and they are likely to justify, identify, and operationalize their choices differently. Thus, the term full model specification does not imply that only one model or even a best model exists, but rather it refers to a family of plausible models. Most researchers agree that specification should (1) be driven by theory, that is, by persuasive arguments and perspectives that identify and justify which factors are most important, and (2) inform why the set of such variables is regarded as complete and parsimonious. In practice, the search for complete, parsimonious, and theory-driven explanations usually results in multiple regression models with about 5–12 independent variables; theory seldom results in less than 5 variables, and parsimony and problems of statistical estimation, discussed further, seldom result in models with more than 12. Key Point We cannot examine the effect of all possible variables. Rather, we focus on the most relevant ones. The search for parsimonious explanations often leads analysts to first identify different categories of factors that most affect their dependent variable. Then, after these categories of factors have been identified, analysts turn to the task of trying to measure each, through either single or index variables. As an example,

Because humans are capable of knowing, the first cause that produced them must have a mind. Because humans are capable of choosing, the first cause must have a will. And so on. Philosopher Étienne Gilson captures the argument neatly: because a human is a someone and not a something, the source of human life must be also a Someone.

This means - and religious people might find this a useful argument - that there was only one creation, one single event when life was born. Of course, that life might have been born on a different planet and seeded here by spacecraft, or there might even have been thousands of kinds of life at first, but only Luca survived in the ruthless free-for-all of the primeval soup. But until the genetic code was cracked in the 1960s, we did not know what we now know: that all life is one; seaweed is your distant cousin and anthrax one of your advanced relatives. The unity of life is an empirical fact. Erasmus Darwin was outrageously close to the mark: 'One and the same kind of living filaments has been the cause of all organic life.

However, without its essential attributes the concept of ‘God’ is empty on its own. Like any other concept, it contains some essential features for your mind — at least God is either merely the Creator, or also Regulator of everything in the Universe, including your brain, mind and behavior. On the surface, maybe there is no serious distinction between them, since the majority looks at the surface only, the interchange of their meanings causes little or no discomfort for the intellect. But at the bottom there is clear-cut distinction between them. God as only the creator is the first cause of the Universe, which in turn also affects your brain and mind states through deterministic relationships between everything, visible or invisible for you, in the Universe. But even God itself cannot break that determinism and regulatory. In that context God is passive rather than active super power, he is not omnipotent, he can neither damn nor forgive you. Therefore, there is no need to worship, to perform numerous rituals, sacrifice, struggle for God against God’s enemies and so on and so forth. There is no appearance of any phenomenon, only the deep content related to ’emotional-motivational’ sub-system of mind such as the ultimate purpose of life and after death. The concept of ‘God’ with the meaning of just creator is more philosophical, and in some context more ‘scientific’, than the concept of 'God' with also the meaning of the regulator. In the former meaning you can substitute the concept of ‘energy’, ‘information’, ‘hard determinism’ and so on, in their broader sense, for the concept of ‘God’. But you cannot do it related to the latter meaning, because unlike the former, it is ideological rather than philosophical and ‘scientific’. There is no free thought there, there is no free conceptual analysis there, your contemplation cannot circulate in any direction only on the base of the logical investigation and logical argumentation. it is going to be confined at some point after which would come all-powerful God’s will, expressed in the holy scriptures, and ideological interpretation of that will according to various political-economic interests. (The Denotation and Connotation of the concept of God, Part 3)

I tell Ceri, this is most likely when I developed an utter love of literature. The Adventures of Tom Sayer. David Copperfield. The Little Prince. Then Cervantes. Balzac. Nabokov. Capote. Some of Miller – but my folks found out and said I was too young for that. I tell Ceri, most likely this is when I developed my inner fears. But that would be an oversimplification. Some-times he used to come around when my mum wasn't there, and Dad was always tired and angry cause he couldn't find a job. And when they had done drinking and Dad was resting, sometimes he would come to my room and we'd read together. He would pull me out of my bed, put me on his knees and hold me tight and read Verne or Rimbaud or Carroll. In candlelight, we would read Dickens and Doyle. Salinger as well. I tell Ceri, this is most likely when my brain started to repress memories and wounds. Then one day they had an argument, Mum was crying a lot that day and at one point came to my room and hugged me till night. We moved out of there shortly after, we moved to a smaller house and I never saw him again. The first time I meet her, I tell Ceri this is just another story now. No need to worry about anything, really. I tell her, I don't even read Rimbaud or Cervantes anymore, you know.

The attempts to refute the cogito ergo sum argument based on the idea of the self are useless and futile because the primary purpose of the argument was to prove the existence as a phenomenon and not necessarily the particular transitory, or potentially illusory, self. Descartes wanted to show and prove that existence is universally the “self” itself (in a more profound sense) and that it is beyond any doubt, regardless of the sense of self, a particular self, or I. That which provides the basis for the “thinking” or the “self“ or the “I” exists, be it reality or illusion, with no difference. There could be no effect caused by something if there were nothing in the first place. That is a contradictio in adjecto.

We may still insist that space, although mainly emptiness, is completely “contaminated” by all the forces in the Universe—particles, waves, and so on. Still, based on this deduction or inference, we cannot prove that what is curved is space since nothing remains nothing and cannot be transformed into something based on the laws of physics. If the Nothing does not convert into something, the curvature of space is impossible. To prove the curvature of nothing (space), we must prove that nothing can transform itself into something based on the laws of physics. Suppose we further insist that this is only a problem of linguistics and philosophy and not physics since we stated that space is how we define it and not as it is. This reasoning would be insufficient because we must first prove that actual space is what it is and not what we say it is to fit our arguments. There can be no answers to the most critical questions of contemporary science, physics, philosophy, and even religions if we are not as precise as possible, linguistically, experimentally, or in any other way. These questions appear to be self-evident, self-explanatory truths and axioms, yet they are neither self-evident nor clear and precise to reflect the actual underlying reality. If we are not as precise as possible, we create theories and paradigms presented as facts, although the starting premises are undefined and unanswered. However, if we do not answer the starting causes and premises, we cannot adequately describe the laws of nature, nor can we understand them. Regardless of how sure we are about space and the curvature of space, we still cannot claim we are correct without describing the nature of nothing. Without the Nothing, there can be no space. There will be an immediate argument, though, that the Nothing has no nature and, therefore, there is nothing to describe. The answer is that its passivity and lack of properties are its most potent “property” because they enable creation and existence. Without the Nothing or void, there is no creation and no existence. We converted nothing into something by our thoughts and language, using deduction or inference, and concluded that space is the consequence of this thought process, not the actual process. We applied our definite language to our indefinite “understanding,” ideas, or reasoning to prove the “fact.” However, the fact is or is not, regardless of our ideas, language, or reasoning. We must use the opposite and apply language to the facts rather than our understanding. Our understanding is limited, and facts are impersonal and independent of our knowledge. We cannot falsify the language to fit and understand the facts better. We cannot change facts or affect them with our ideas, but facts are verifiable up to a point. There are facts beyond the verifiable point by humans since human beings are limited. Still, language is verifiable, and our theories are both falsifiable and verifiable to a large extent.

Thomas Aquinas (1225—1274) states that God is a simple being. Although God is eternal, a material world, Universe, is not eternal. For Aquinas, God’s existence is his essence, the basis of Divine simplicity. For anything else, there is a distinction between existence and essence. Aquinas defined his five arguments for the existence of God in his book Summa Theologica: 1. The First Way: Motion. (The argument from "first mover.") 2. The Second Way: Efficient Cause. (The argument from universal causation.) 3. The Third Way: Possibility and Necessity. (The argument from contingency). 4. The Fourth Way: Gradation. (The argument from degree.) 5. The Fifth Way: Design. (The argument from final cause or ends [Teleological argument].)

Suppose I think, after doing my accounts, that I have a large balance at the bank. And suppose you want to find out whether this belief of mine is 'wishful thinking'. You can never come yo any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself. When you have checked wny figures, then, and then only, will you know whether I have that balance or not. If you find my arithmetic correct, then no amount of vapouring about my psychological condition can be anything but a waste of time. If you findnany arithmetic wrong, then it may be relevant to explain psychologically how I came to be so bad at my arithmetic, and the doctrine of rhe concealed wish will become relevant-but only after you have yourself done the sum and discovered me to be wrong on purely arithmetical grounds. It is the same with all thinking and all systems of thought. If you try to find out which are tainted by speculating about the wishes of the thinkers, you are merely making a fool of yourself. You must first find out on purely logical grounds which of them do, in fact, break down as arguments. Afterwards, if you like, go and discover the psychological causes of the error.

Suppose I think, after doing my accounts, that I have a large balance at the bank. And suppose you want to find out whether this belief of mine is 'wishful thinking'. You can never come yo any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself. When you have checked my figures, then, and then only, will you know whether I have that balance or not. If you find my arithmetic correct, then no amount of vapouring about my psychological condition can be anything but a waste of time. If you findnany arithmetic wrong, then it may be relevant to explain psychologically how I came to be so bad at my arithmetic, and the doctrine of rhe concealed wish will become relevant-but only after you have yourself done the sum and discovered me to be wrong on purely arithmetical grounds. It is the same with all thinking and all systems of thought. If you try to find out which are tainted by speculating about the wishes of the thinkers, you are merely making a fool of yourself. You must first find out on purely logical grounds which of them do, in fact, break down as arguments. Afterwards, if you like, go and discover the psychological causes of the error.

Suppose I think, after doing my accounts, that I have a large balance at the bank. And suppose you want to find out whether this belief of mine is 'wishful thinking'. You can never come yo any conclusion by examining my psychological condition. Your only chance of finding out is to sit down and work through the sum yourself. When you have checked my figures, then, and then only, will you know whether I have that balance or not. If you find my arithmetic correct, then no amount of vapouring about my psychological condition can be anything but a waste of time. If you find any arithmetic wrong, then it may be relevant to explain psychologically how I came to be so bad at my arithmetic, and the doctrine of rhe concealed wish will become relevant-but only after you have yourself done the sum and discovered me to be wrong on purely arithmetical grounds. It is the same with all thinking and all systems of thought. If you try to find out which are tainted by speculating about the wishes of the thinkers, you are merely making a fool of yourself. You must first find out on purely logical grounds which of them do, in fact, break down as arguments. Afterwards, if you like, go and discover the psychological causes of the error.

It appears that those born by Caesarean section (C-section) are more prone to allergies later on in life,28 but it is hard to tell whether it is the method of delivery itself that causes this, or the fact that those born by C-section are more likely to have had in-utero problems or mothers with pre-existing health issues. Still, one argument in favour of the delivery hypothesis is that those born by C-section are more likely to have an unbalanced microbiome that is inadequately diverse and that can harbour opportunistic pathogens.29 This persists for at least the first year of life and the effects may last longer. This early dysbiosis (an unbalanced microbiome) may result in a poor learning experience for the young immune cells in the gut’s military academy. When stimulated, the immune systems of those who have been born by C-section produce inappropriately high inflammatory markers compared with vaginally-delivered babies.30 This is an immune system that has not developed tolerance; one that is inappropriately skewed towards inflammation. Remarkably, but perhaps not surprisingly, the mental part of the defence system also becomes hypervigilant. A 2022 study found that adults who were born via C-section were more likely to exhibit a stronger psychological stress response, as well as a greater immune response, to both short-term stressors and during a longer-term period of stress, such as exam season.

How did the senator know that children meant happiness? Could he see into their souls? What if, the moment they were out of sight, three of them jumped the fourth and began beating him up? The senator had only one argument in his favor: his feeling. When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object. In the realm of kitsch, the dictatorship of the heart reigns supreme. The feeling induced by kitsch must be a kind the multitudes can share. Kitsch may not, therefore, depend on an unusual situation; it must derive from the basic images people have engraved in their memories: the ungrateful daughter, the neglected father, children running on the grass, the motherland betrayed, first love. Kitsch causes two tears to flow in quick succession. The first tear says: How nice to see children running on the grass! The second tear says: How nice to be moved, together with all mankind, by children running on the grass! It is the second tear that makes kitsch kitsch. The brotherhood of man on earth will be possible only on a base of kitsch. And no one knows this better than politicians. Whenever a camera is in the offing, they immediately run to the nearest child, lift it in the air, kiss it on the cheek. Kitsch is the aesthetic ideal of all politicians and all political parties and movements. Those of us who live in a society where various political tendencies exist side by side and competing influences cancel or limit one another can manage more or less to escape the kitsch inquisition: the individual can preserve his individuality; the artist can create unusual works. But whenever a single political movement corners power, we find ourselves in the realm of totalitarian kitsch. When I say totalitarian, what I mean is that everything that infringes on kitsch must be banished for life: every display of individualism (because a deviation from the collective is a spit in the eye of the smiling brotherhood); every doubt (because anyone who starts doubting details will end by doubting life itself); all irony (because in the realm of kitsch everything must be taken quite seriously); and the mother who abandons her family or the man who prefers men to women, thereby calling into question the holy decree Be fruitful and multiply. In this light, we can regard the gulag as a septic tank used by totalitarian kitsch to dispose of its refuse.

How did the senator know that children meant happiness? Could he see into their souls? What if, the moment they were out of sight, three of them jumped the fourth and began beating him up? The senator had only one argument in his favor: his feeling. When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object. In the realm of kitsch, the dictatorship of the heart reigns supreme. The feeling induced by kitsch must be a kind the multitudes can share. Kitsch may not, therefore, depend on an unusual situation; it must derive from the basic images people have engraved in their memories: the ungrateful daughter, the neglected father, children running on the grass, the motherland betrayed, first love. Kitsch causes two tears to flow in quick succession. The first tear says: How nice to see children running on the grass! The second tear says: How nice to be moved, together with all mankind, by children running on the grass! It is the second tear that makes kitsch kitsch. The brotherhood of man on earth will be possible only on a base of kitsch.

Tyrannical anthropocentrism" is a good phrase to keep in mind next time you hear someone describe any animal-protection cause as "anti-human," one of those cliches of disparagement that's tossed off as if it settled anything: "Why don't you go help humans instead?" We're left to ask why such people always seem to think that it is beneath human beings to admit and correct cruelty but not to commit cruelty in the first place. It has the ring of self-satisfied excuse-making, by those who lack empathy and resent the quality in others. Why do the very people who like to rhapsodize most about human dignity so often try to explain away practices and industries so transparently beneath our dignity?

Gay & Lesbian Love Attraction Traditional Rituals & Spells+27828367570 Same-sex spells have been on the front burner for some time and series of debates on whether lesbian love spells work. But, as one will expect, magic love spells naysayers won't spare a second to outright tag same-sex tag love spells such as lesbian spells as hoaxes and the handiwork of fetish tricksters. Thankfully, we don't have to engage in such back-and-forth arguments because a seasoned spell caster, Spellcaster Maxim, has done the entire magic community a favor by making time to address same-sex love spells on his reputable blog +27828367570. You should check it out. You will also find several other posts that will take you on an intriguing journey through the fascinating world of love spells, such as casting ancient magic spells and how to perform rituals without putting yourself in harm's way, and several other topics that most spell casters and magic enthusiasts have expressed concerns about. Why are same-sex love spells causing so much buzz? +27828367570 To adequately understand what same-sex love spell entail and why the subject has pricked so much interest in recent times, one must first understand what they are and how they work. And this brings us to the question; What are lesbian love spells and how do they work? +27828367570 Lesbian love spells or same-sex love spells as they are popularly known are one out of many types of love spells. They are often found in the same group as obsession spells and voodoo magic spells to make someone fall in love, among other types of love spells. As you can imagine, lesbian love spells are cast to help lesbian couples strengthen their bond (if they already a relationship going on) or make them realize how much they love themselves (if they are hesitant to kickstart a relationship or take their relationship to the next level). Moving on to the latter part of the question; How does a lesbian love spell work?+27828367570 Lesbian love spells work in the same manner as traditional love spells. In addition, there are white magic and black magic same-sex spells, and they can be cast to help lesbian couples solve problems in their love life. If you are wondering what white magic and black magic same-sex love spells are, read on because we have got all the information you need. White magic lesbian love spells are intended to foster love between lesbians and help them to sustain a healthy relationship. It can also be used to make one attractive to their partners and rekindle dying love. On the other hand, black magic spells or voodoo love spells are mostly cast to help the caster achieve results faster. However, this king of same-sex love spells are not as easy to cast as most people (especially amateur lesbian love spell caters) make it seem. Voodoo love spells are often cast alongside voodoo love spell rituals to make them yield results or work faster. However, having mentioned love spell rituals, Spellcaster Maxim noted that such rituals aren't a fetish, and only professional spell caster should perform them. +27828367570 Because of their complex nature and all the work that has to be done to make them a success, it's always best to allow vetted spell caster like Spellcaster Maxim to cast them. Voodoo spells involve consulting with higher authorities such as guardian angels to gain their permission before casting spells. If any spell caster jumps the gun to cast dark magic spells without the backing of higher authorities, they are setting themselves up for failed same-sex spells, and that could mark the beginning been haunted by dark forces when they retaliate. Lesbian love spells that work Do same-sex voodoo love spells retaliate? Contrary to popular misconceptions about voodoo same-sex love spells, they are not all evil. Instead, it's the ill intentions of the spell casters that make them seem so.