Thursday, May 19, 2011

I am the light that resides within
That supreme being beyond beings
I am the peace amongst chaos
Towards every element I extend
A familiarity of oneness
I am the loath of a jealous unborn
And parent to the living
I am the destiny of time
Fulfillment of joy and longing of tears
I am
The fire in the sun and cool of the moon
I am the static in change
The finale of the beginning, I am
Creations words spoken artistically
And sometimes dangerously obscene
I am both sides of one coin
The water in the stream
The rock meandering distant dreams
I am philosophy history science technology
A whole in one piece
I am the twinkle in the stars
I am the lightening of angry clouds
The air in the breeze
The sound less in silence
I am
I am you and you me
I am ..... That!

Friday, May 13, 2011

Fuck Knows..

I try to write different styles
While all I have is mine
back to the class room to search
My forbidden childhood and
Miss Wonders notes
What do I see?
i am there sitting on the wooden seat
coloring a people red yellow and green
the sheet, and on that a star
its mom dad my sisters and me
purple hills and a meandering street
a sloping roof and a chimney
Miss Wonders note to silly me
Remark- good job
Imagination lends to you artistically
As I try to write different styles
Tap tap tap
Click click- delete
To take a walk in the thoughtful beneath
The garden once we hid in and seeked
It is a starry night and reasonably lonely
What is it that I find so incomplete?
Forty two degrees have left me
Staring
At a completely blank screen
Well, it must be one of those days
You know
when you feel
Maybe I should watch a movie…
Have a beer
Not hear my thoughts in a loud club
with a dancing stampede
And look for a good conversation
Over a some burning nicotine
While we try different styles
Arent we all looking for Miss Wonder
Hand in hand
Outside the house
with a meandering street
Colored red yellow purple
Fuck knows
We could be green!

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Precursor

For once to realize- it’s a matter of time
The pledge of a mortal soul
Cannot finds its belonging in eternity
Thus far, realize
You are what you are
For that is why you pledge as you do
Time is for you – not eternity
Imagination is a gift – not your place to be
Ability is a choice – capacity is will
Serenity is a mood – not to achieve
For once realize – it’s a matter of time
What you can and what you must will
Yours is to love – not to seek

Lala Land

It mustve been a selfish spell
The way we ushered our beliefs
There must lie a note of thanks
You see
I find a bigger lesson as you teach
Together I must say
The demons of you and me
Surfaced crude realities
I am what I am as
I must what I must
What you have seen in me
the crazy angry beast, I
sometimes just as you have been
You see
Lets for once voice the underneath
In the cold night, figuratively
As I speak
The winter within me
Was the cold of you beside me
I must conceive
I were the troubled angry beast
Within your sight I seeked
Just you and me
Plain simple I and you, being
You see
Perfection to me was it
Whereas you and your moulds
Restricted not just me
Clearly, your perfection is you
And not in me
A little puppet I, if you please
Love there is
But I hate
the way you make me feel
I tell you
Not perfect are you
Not even in speech
The love is there
I just hate the feel
Some are in action and some beneath
You see
Your poison
kept you from screaming
but pain,
you inflicted inconspicuously
you see
I must be what I must
Youre no different
Only if
Within yourself you were to seek
Heres lala land
Abandoned – lonely

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

….But What If?

The hunger of, often veils
Metaphors of imaginations trickle
A slow paced chaos
My heart beats as part of a drum circle
The dancing figures of unrest
Glide over in mysterious movements

A rather benevolent mind
Starts to play tricks of a circus joker
Somewhere there is a need
Of the soulless jester to lighten up
As I indulge in tantrums of thoughts
Through the my own hands
I nurture a new born idea into
A callous criminal, guiltless
With an appetite of a beast
That feeds over my consciousness
As I too feed off the angst; “thinking”
To sustain the cob wed
I build to be real

The hunger of, often veils
For every thought must be alive
Alive enough to affect
Alive as I make them
It is my own indulgence in the
Captivation show of misplaced reality
That shadows of relentless assumptions
Are strong as the scorching sun
It is I who gives them power
It is I who veils my own
Serenity

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

My Friend Frenzy

I bestow unto you my dear friend
The frights and flights
Wonder why I couldn’t understand
The horrors of your insecure faith
Off the surface you calm son of a bitch
Find the depth in the powers of angst
We are one as you said; you recall?
I am me and you separate!

For long the jolts of your wit
Have sufficed my reason and action
Of the untrue, you sly wizard
I find you to be the crux of ugly snoot
Incongruous fallacies of imaginations
Scurrying a stampede of rampant thoughts
Of your cloaked fury of darkness

I have now the one who rest beside me
Of fantasies she makes my belief
The deeper I swim with her
I find your sneaky little tactics
Behind me
The one who rests besides me
Tells me a reality of a forever she sees
I bestow unto you my dear friend
A goodbye, so long you boastful snob
I hope to never see you again

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Normative Ethics: after the leap into Objectivism.

Ye olde leap o faith.


The oft misquoted Dostoevsky saying reads: If there is no God then everything is permitted. This is a rough summary of perhaps one or more of the utterances of Ivan Karamazov, a character in Dostoevsky's classic novel: The Brothers Karamazov. It might even be a summary of Father Zosima (another character in The Brothers Karamazov) when he says: "Our people believe tirelessly in the truth, acknowledge God, weep tenderly. Not so their betters. These, following science, want to make a just order for themselves by reason alone, but without Christ now, not as before, and they have already proclaimed that there is no crime, there is no sin. And in their own terms, that is correct: for if you have no God, what crime is there to speak of? All in all, this hyperbolic expression falsely attributed to Dostoevsky seems to correctly amplify the over all debate in his novel, and possibly, his personal opinion. The opinion that if there is no absolute God, then there is no absolute morality.  

When examined at first glance "absolute morals" point towards religion. Albeit, the fact that there are varying principles of morality within the paradigm of religious belief seems to indicate that divinely prescribed morals are at least not true in every instance. In Islam, for example, it is not OK to eat pork, whereas in Jainism vegetarianism is a compulsion. It is however also worth noting that there is no way to bargain/weigh-in divinely prescribed morals for its adherer.

How can we question the perfect word of God? This is not a question but a condition. Believers of such morals feel that they have answers or guidance and they are satisfied or obliged to follow. This in turn gives meaning to their life. 

But not everyone who believes in absolute morals believes in religion, what then is their moral compass?

Normative Ethics is the part of moral philosophy, or ethics, concerned with the criteria of what is right or wrong- good or bad. It is the discipline of philosophy concerned with formulating or stipulating moral guidelines for human actions, institutions (such as the legislative sort), and how one should live. Thusly, the pivotal query of normative ethics is determining how basic moral standards are arrived at and justified. The answers to this question fall into two broad categories: deontological and teleological.

Deontological theories use the authenticity of its own inherent virtues or rightness to establish moral standards, while teleological theories consider the good and value brought into being by actions as the principal criterion of their ethical value. Thus, deontological theories akin to religion stress the concepts of duty, ought, obligation, and right and wrong, while teleological theories lay stress on the good, the valuable, and the desirable. 


Deontological theories set forth formal or relational criteria such as equality or impartiality; teleological theories, by contrast, provide material or substantive criteria, as, for example, happiness or pleasure. The word "teleological" is derived from the word ‘Telos’, which is Greek for "purpose".

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Problems with Objectivism and conscience on the Objectivist account.

Note to reader:

The following post is a continuation of a series of posts on this blog entitled "The Distinction Between Morailty and Ethics". Please refer to the previous posts for my overview of other moral disciplines, namely: Socratic Ethics, Relativism, Subjectivism & Humean SubjectivismFor a short introduction to the distinction between morality and ethics, please go here.





Since Objectivism is a theory that explains moral persuasion, from the school of thought of metaethics, objections to it naturally follow from the other two theories on moral persuasion. In this write-up, I plan to explore relativist and subjectivist criticisms of objectivism.


Relativist Objections:


In her famous book, Patterns of Culture, Ruth Benedict describes how the Kwakiutl people of the Northwest Coast of Canada, especially their chieftains, saw the death of a family member as an affront or insult that could only be overcome, and dignity and nobility restored, by killing someone - man, woman or child - from another tribe. Does this show that the value of human life - perhaps the cornerstone of morality- is not universal? Could our sense of the value of innocent human life be a cultural creation - the product of our history and our social practices- a creation that the Kwakiutl never achieved? Is morality finally then conventional as relativist claim


In Arab Bedouin culture, with its strong emphasis on communal solidarity, marriages are arranged and no one can marry, or embark on any other significant enterprise in life, without the approval of their tribes's Sheikh. Western liberal culture regards this practice as an infringement of individual freedom and self-determination. Is there any independent standpoint from which we can evaluate these conflicting traditions? Is either right or wrong? Or are they different and incommensurable social conventions as relativists argue? 


Subjectivist Objections: 


Subjectivists argue whether there can really be any moral facts? Aren't facts things that we can, at least in principle, see or touch or hear in the world around us? But, as Hume said, we cant see good and evil. So Isn't morality in us, in the way we subjectively respond to our experience? 


Aren't feelings and desires what motivate us? How can the judgement that something is good or evil be a motive?


Objectivist Disclosure:


We are justified in following, and obliged to follow, our best- that is, our informed and considered - moral judgements even when those judgements are mistaken. However, society is entitled to stop us from following our consciences when the resulting action involves significant injustice or a significant threat to public order. This means that we can give reasons for our moral beliefs and judgements; we can be mistaken in our moral beliefs and judgements, and that moral beliefs and judgements can be true and false.


That is, individuals and communities may believe that they are morally justified in following a particular course of action; but this belief may be objectively wrong. Many of those who practised paternalistic slavery did so in good conscience, believing that some races were like children and incapable of choosing for themselves; but they were mistaken in this belief- an the profound injustice of slavery entitled those who opposed the practice to force slave owner to free their slaves. 


So, if we assume that Objectivism is correct, what sorts of reasons should guide us in our moral decision-making? How do we decide what is objectively right or wrong, good or evil? Relativism and Subjectivism appear to offer immediate guidance for moral decision-making- What is the social convention here? What are my feelings on the matter? 


Socratic Ethics, Utilitarianism, Natural Law Theory, Kantianism, Divine Command Theory and Ethical Liberalism are essentially Objectivist theories (though there is a significant subjectivist element in Preference Utilitarianism) which each provide a different answer to these questions - that is, they propose very different and conflicting "basic moral norms".












In my next post, I will explore the transition from Metaethics to Normative Ethics by looking at the key elements of the Utilitarian point of view.  

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Voice me

The world shouldn’t exist in anarchy
There shouldn’t be wars or any war drums
There shouldn’t be beats
that silence those who breathe
From hands of who
They sound their energy

Don’t you see
I was a kid just as you
praying for a future
We were one,
for the stars were to many
For us to see any doldrums

What happened my friend
We used to play hide and seek
to no end
We used to believe in
Football, basketball, volleyball
Rock, pop, hip hop
Strawberries, raspberries,
blueberry ice creams
What happened, why do you
Keep fiddling with that blackberry

Don’t you see time and again
I come back to see
The little dance you promised to keep
Up and down the merry go round
Circling, yes! circling at the same spot
You promised you loved me
So I am back again
Don’t you see
Burglary, theft, murder, divorce,
Marriage. Kids. workload
Complacent to me
Your hands theyr so filthy
with greed

Don’t you see
There!
that was the past as you like to believe
I am here again
Time time time – I am the spell
Don’t you remember
As you ran into the wooden door
Jumping in bed that morning
What a beautiful child you were

Don’t you see
I am your present
And im back to release
That little symphony
You tickled on the piano keys
Don’t forget me
this time
Please

While God sat in the vanity van

There are gods
and there are gods
Who do you decide to keep?
Who shall be the one;
The one that
resides as a mere belief ?
Or one that decides not to preach ?

There are questions you ask to
No other than your self belief
Lest in words you find
Ones who agree
As (when) you insist
There are gods to keep
As you pick them
From a busy street

I sit silently
Pondering
what a mystery you create
On the hustlers street
There are gods
And such gods you steal

They must look like you
On a canvas sheet
Talk like you
And of what you preach
They are your gods
You flip
Through a magazines

There are gods and
such gods you preach
You are men
and as men you deceive

none but yourselves
in a quest to please
idols you find in people
in them,
of what you must be

And today there is he
And tomorrow
swept away
into
Another shiny monastery

There are gods
And such gods you keep
Nothing but a reflection of
What you believe

As I idealize you
There are your own
You keep
How could we ever
Ever agree?

There are gods
Just not in what we perceive

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Sermon to a Mathematical Society

Let me go down to dissect
every ludicrous thought behind the scene
as I rupture thoughts flooded with debris
of the unspoken virtues of our envy
we live our reality
through the sermons of the dead
into the land of such fallacies
our children are born as ghosts, plundered
on rage of nations over nations
we are people,
we forget at times such as these
where is the form in the formless?
where is the color in the colorless?
distinctions separate you and me
yet we build on the mathematical society
where my cause is the effect on we
in our eagerness to plead our sanity
to our unborn
wars bygone, wars go on
the sounds of the bombs are silent now
there is noise within me
let us breath the air of peace
where is the soulful journey?
wrapped in cloaks, “knowledge”
there is no bigger devil I see
in the name of serendipity
I am you are we are nothing but just lazy
Monuments of our times
Stranded between the paths
Of prayers, appeals, beliefs, morality
We are no heroes
Heroes don’t live
to see themselves succeed
lets not build this family
into vengeful gun trotters
living on the street
listen, listen closely
I hear screaming
The shouts of the children
We once were to be
Lets let them out of the misery
Of practicality
Of partiality
of the illusions of superiority
let them breathe free
let our children speak

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Cuckoo Clock

Of all forms of emotions I must feel
Guilt is where
Righteousness finds its plea
My morality is
When such plea justifies belief

As I become me
From a child’s folly
Towards the mirage of
The illusive emancipation
Of a boy; who as a man is deceased

Between causality and
Actions of responsibility
It is I who breathes
Slowly into manhood and mortality
Riches and the glitterati

The more I think I begin to wonder,
If any of it all seems to be me
Over and again as experiences tell
Stories revealed
Notions of the meandering stream
Engulf the silence of the mysterious dream

Of all forms of emotions
Realizations scream
The more I grow the smaller I feel
More I gain poorer I seem

An ageless child
As a man deceased, I

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Thought of the Day

Given the sense of reality I must
Find the degrees of construed vision
As formations of experiences attach me
To the wonders of reminiscing
The gentle strokes of moments bygone
Reoccur in captions within dreamy eyes
Such attachment finds me restricted
Faces must change as reality recreates
Emotions remain constant
Of learning from those in the past
The present reveals a pattern
A wondrous I smiles at me
What if then was no different to now
And now remaining a mere projection to
Thoughts subdued
I must learn …
For notions of eternity only last momentously
I must conceive
For the truth bestowed on me lasts an eternity

The Linguist

Through words one might find solace
Within experience as the glitterati
As I sense the outside through
parameters of limited knowledge
between unity and subjectivism, the bridge
misled towards constricted forms
Their perishable fate becomes me

lest we tread on the path of devotion, selflessly
a fearlessness stride takes contours
within my own being,
in shape less journey
I am not blaze of my actions
Becoming them instinctively; finding
I am nothing but a dream

A dream where the only dear one seems me
Where I is the center point reality
The darkness of such roads lead into
An infinite
Not one that sets free, not in union
But into
the wilderness of exasperation needs

confounding and restricting
my solace in words is impermanent
every now and again to find newer ones
pacifying my insecure mortality
I become a sensory machine
An active source of infinite reactivity

Fed through experience
The light within me is veiled, through
An image of the self
Built within a narrative extensively
Trying to please the need of my ego
I am nothing now
but a conductor it seems

Merely gratifying an egotist’s needs
I am in search of solace
Wondering whether or not
I am in the right place

As the moment passes
I am no more a dream of senses
I am awake –
As the fear of
What might become of me trenches

Roundabout Thee

Questions I ask
myself now and again
for the tussles
of the incongruous thoughts
mysteriously stir
the origin of peace within me

as the soul writes its own destiny
I victoriously move towards
the destruction of thee
Chances as I plead
Such that I must perceive
resolve
To destruct indeed

Quite an anomaly of resolutions
I see
For every one such made
Harder to keep
But resolutions that keep me astray
are none
but ones that seem to agree with me

thus far what I encumber
although none I want to keep
bound in the paradox of action, see
forever a debt I receive

clusters of learning fill with abundance
the knowledge I once seeked
as my knowledge grows
I discern what lies in me, my belief

The colossal loss of
As I see
Helplessly create a rift between
I who once was thee
In complications of the static
Clouding, a thoughtful void
I lose sight of me

As much as I seek
There is winter within
The garden I once filled with thee

It is my concern
In such action bound as I breathe
The voice of you occurs
And disappears in me

Lest I speak
I am the origin
of an amalgamation
Construed by fiction of me
I am a wanderer
Losing and finding
My path roundabout thee