Art by Harry Wareham

What is Meta Ethics?

How many times have you heard someone say that such and such is a ‘wrong’ thing to do? How many times have you wondered what it was for something to be ‘wrong? It’s likely that you’ve done more listening than you have thinking. But consider the question for a minute. What do we mean when we say that an action is ‘wrong’ or ‘good’? 

Questions like these come under meta ethics. The word ‘meta’ comes from a Greek word which means ‘above’ or ‘beyond’ and essentially meta ethics asks what we mean by moral language. It analyses the reasoning behind the nature of moral language. This is extremely important; we use moral language every day but if this is just a reflection of our emotions then how seriously should we take it?

There are several different views on the meaning of moral language and this article will give you a crash course in some of the key basic ideas. The first is that moral language can be verified (proven to be correct) by looking at the world. The second view is that moral language is like a gut instinct (or intuition to be more precise). The third view is emotivism – moral language is simply a reflection of emotion. Finally, there will be a brief comment on the view that ethical statements gives guidance on how to act.

Got me thinking!

So, the first view is that moral language can be verified: Aquinas (a medieval philosopher) believed that moral language is exactly like non-moral statements. For instance, when we say that Michael Jackson died in 2010 we can check this and know that it is true. When it comes to moral language, if we say that murder is wrong, we can check this against nature to see whether it is true. We know that murder is wrong because it prevents happiness. It prevents the natural fulfilment of the individual. Aquinas would say that such a statement is non-negotiable – murder is always wrong.

However, G.E. Moore argued that the stance Aquinas was advocating (ethical naturalism) was incorrect. He believed that we could still question whether murder was wrong – it is not like asking ‘does happiness make people happy?’. There is a clear answer to this question. However when terms like ‘good’ and ‘right’ are used we can always ask – is it really though? This is known as the ‘open question argument’ because there is no clear answer to whether it is genuinely good.

Maybe terms like ‘good’ etc are indefinable? This was the opinion of G.E. Moore who refuted (a posh word for ‘argued against’) Aquinas. Moore believed that trying to define ‘bad’ was like trying to define yellow. In his classic example he stated that “We know what ‘yellow’ is and can recognise it whenever it is seen, but we cannot define yellow. In the same way, we know what good is but we can’t define it.” How do we know what good is? Through our intuition or gut instinct. This is our second opinion in meta ethics that is called intuitionism.

Like Aquinas, G.E. Moore also has his refutation. According to Moore if everyone knew morality through intuition, then surely our intuition would be the same. We would all be able to get along like one big happy family. However, this is not the case and seeing as Moore ruled out defining moral terms there can be no empirical evidence to prove either side.

H. A. Prichard answered this criticism. He defended G. E. Moore by arguing that it was down to education and that individuals were at different stages of moral development. But this takes us back to the open question argument. How do we know who is further up the stage of moral development? Furthermore, many people who have been educated academically hold different political views. They do not vote the same way. They do not believe the same beliefs. If intuitionism was true, humans would have worked out what was good and what was bad by now. However, clearly we haven’t as the questions of meta ethics are still floating around.

Nevertheless, it is vital to ask these questions. It would be irresponsible not to look into what we mean in our moral language. We need to work out whether it is subject to social conditioning; whether it is reliable; can it be used as a guide to a moral life? Intuitionism is often backed up through the example of love. When two people fall in love, those on the outside ask how they knew they loved each other and the two people in love reply that they ‘just knew’. It was intuition. On the basis of this intuition they were prepared to make life changing decisions because of it – to get married, to have children, to get Sky Plus. Is this however, what we should rely on when it comes to decisions on whether we should euthanise a family member? Many people love bad people who abuse them mentally and physically. Love is blind. Does this mean that intuition blinds us and encourages us to merely ‘make do’? It is clear that it is important to ask what we mean by ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.

Once intuitionism and ethical naturalism have been ruled out this leaves us with emotivism and prescriptivism. Emotivism is the belief that when we say something is wrong it is a reflection of our emotion – it has also been called the ‘Boo-horrah theory’. This is because when the pacifist says ‘War is wrong’ what they are really saying according to A J Ayer is ‘Boo to war’. When a politician says ‘War is good’ what they are really saying is ‘Horray to war’. In this sense, ‘good’, ‘right, ‘bad’ and ‘wrong’ are all “ethical symbols.” There is no logic involved in ethical language; it simply expresses whether you approve of an action.

Ayer also believed that we chose our words carefully to provoke a similar feeling of agreement in the listener. When we say ‘you act wrong when you steal money’, what we are really saying according to Ayer is that you the listener should not steal because it goes against how I feel. Our moral language therefore is not only a reflection of our emotion but it is also heard in terms of command.  Ayer has summed this up in the following; “Ethical terms do not serve only to express feelings. They are calculated to arouse feeling, and so to stimulate action.” 

Compared to Aquinas and Moore this is a much more balanced perspective in that it looks for justification of what we say. It calls for less reliance on emotion - or at least to be aware of its presence. However, seeing moral language as pure emotion may not leave it enough substance for any ethical statement to be taken seriously.

However, emotivism also has its own downfalls. Perhaps G.J. Warnock gives the most serious criticism. He argued that ethical statements aren’t judged on emotional response and that they are actively discussed. Ethical statements are not the linguistic equivalent of arithmetic sums; ethical language is much richer and far more muddy than science. This criticism can also be combined with the reductionist challenge to Ayer’s theory concerning meta-ethics. When something is reductionist, it is an oversimplification. Applied to Ayer’s theory, it suggests that when someone states: ‘the Holocaust was inherently evil’ it has the same value or meaning as when a child says ‘I like the red jelly babies best’. Moral statements seem to go further than emotion, in everyday language moral language has the most weight, and therefore emotivism has some apparent downfalls. We do not base important moral decisions on emotion alone; in cases such as abortion, we consider our own empirical circumstances and our beliefs (although there is room for debate over how these two elements relate to forming our emotion). 

This leads us on to the final view on meta ethics that is prescriptivism. RM Hare tried to explain moral language through commands. He felt that moral statements were more than mere expressions of emotion as they tell us how to we ought to act. Ergo, when an individual states that ‘Murder is wrong’ it isn’t personal revulsion as such but it is a method of stating the command that everyone should not murder a fellow human being. Hare developed this into his Universability principle. This effectively states that they wish that their moral statements were true for everyone in every circumstance. Importantly, Hare can be seen to have more substance than Ayer as a deontological approach can be taken. A deontological approach holds that a moral agent (i.e. the individual) has certain actions that he/she is required to do and so morality involves action. Hare also believed that a way of judging goodness was whether it fulfils its purpose (or actuality in Aristotelian terms). Thus, Hare does seem to give a more solid basis than Ayer in terms of practicality for being able to have discussions and moral judgements.

All that is left to say is congratulations. After reading this article you will (hopefully!) be more aware of the moral language that we use and what we mean by when we say ‘wrong’. We have covered over 500 years of thought on this subject in a few minutes, which is pretty impressive.  The criticisms I have listed here, as well as the strengths, are only a select sample so by no means has everything been covered in depth. So please, please, please discover more; it is definitely worth the time and effort. Beauty is in the detail.

Timothy Blythen

Art by Selly Funkbadger

Soldiers and Generals - By Selim 'Selim' Talat

Soldiers and Generals -

The ambiguous relation of soldiers to generals is thus: On the one hand they are in awe of their general, and love him like a father. On the other they are terrified of Father's disapproval, and live in constant fear of him.

It is in a human's nature to long for freedom, to create their own ideas of good and not to have to perform machinate tasks. This unquenchable lust to be uncaged lurks inside the most drilled and conditioned soldiers. This desire for freedom conflicts with their utter subjugation to Realm and General. As such, it leads the soldiers to hate the authority they simultaneously love and find purpose from. This in turn leads them to confusion, and out of the confusion they search out a cast-iron cure, an absolute truth. Ironically enough, the reassurance of their masters is that purpose and thus they continue the self-fulfilling cycle of searching after purpose, being confused by their ambiguous feelings, and resolving those feelings in the mindless obeyance of the powerful.

The soldiers have no means of taking out their frustration upon their masters, so instead they bully those weaker than themselves. Thus, their hatred of master and the impotent frustration it fosters is an absolutely essential element in maintaining the hierarchy between rulers and ruled. To put it another way, the hidden anger of the obedient soldier at having sold his freedom is what separates him from the people (the threat of his armed anger forever hangs over their heads) - if the people were allowed to advise the soldier, how long would the lofty general last?

Of course you might say the soldier defends his people. Indeed, the soldiers you salute at a parade may protect you from other soldiers, but those other soldiers fight for authoritative figures. It doesn't make a difference where a soldier is from, they belong to the universal category of soldier. And likewise with a general. Whoever wins whatever war, you as a person lose, for you are still under a violent authority. Your Realm may be the richest and the most powerful, yet still you should despair - you are merely a preened slave to violent authority. We must desire to have all soldiers in the world unite on one side, fighting against all of the generals on the other side, until we gain freedom; for what do soldiers do but defend us from, or instigate, the ambitions of soulless, evil rulers, who may only be marginally worse than our own, soulless, rulers? i.e. by having generals leading soldiers, we are perpetuating the very idea of generals and soldiers. Whilst this division exists, we cannot know freedom.

By Selim 'Selim' Talat

Philosophy Tales - Sophie (a) - By Ellese Elliott

Philosophy Tales - Sophie (a)

Once upon a time in space, there was a little girl with a pure heart called Sophie. Every morning, Sophie would head to the river, to frolic and play and laugh all day.

Splashing or paddling, rowing or skating, Sophie never tired to be with the river and the river never ceased to tire of Sophie.

Sometimes the river was warm and sparkling. So sparkling, Sophie swore that’s where the stars took their bath. And at other times the river was hard and freezing. So freezing, she turned blue and started wheezing. However, nothing would stop Sophie from heading to the river, to frolic and play and laugh all day.

But one day when Sophie played in the river all went dark, the air fell silent and then the river ran wild. A giant wall of water rolled toward Sophie, the thunder shook the land and the lightening ruptured the skies. Crash!!!!!!

The giant wall of water swept Sophie into the air, crash and then dragged her under.

She struggled against this beast, spluttering and fighting. Sophie screamed ‘Arrrrggghhhhh!’, as she was thrown out of the water and into a shadowy cave. So surprised, so scared and so hurt, Sophie stayed in the cave and her pure heart turned dark.

The cave was hard, wet and dingy. But unlike the erratic river that was so kind, but then so awful, the cave was steady and predictable. It was safe.

The seasons slowly passed, autumn, winter, spring and then summer. But the cave had no seasons, only emptiness. Sophie forgot that every day she used to go down to the river to frolic and play and laugh all day, as she too became empty.

But then, a beam of light entered into Sophie’s line of sight and something entered the cave.

“‘Allo’, what’s your name?” It was boy! His appearance was scruffy. He had dirt on his face and clothes, and he was smiling from ear to ear. An astonished Sophie knew not what to say. “What you doing in here?” said the boy. Sophie wanted to speak, but again nothing came out.

Becoming dis-heartened, the boy turned and headed back from where he came. Suddenly, Sophie spoke in a panic. “Where are you going?” she said in a scared little voice. “Well, to go down to the river, to frolic and play of course.” said the boy.

Standing in the beam of light, protruding into the cave the boy shone. “But what ... what if you get hurt and the river runs wild?” Sophie begged from the dark corner of the cave. However, the boy replied, “Well that’s better then staying in some dingy old cave.”

And with that thought – Sophie followed the boy into the light and out of the darkness.

The End

By Ellese Elliott

The Nature of Reality

There is a world outside us. Hard to believe I know, but it’s true. We spend so much of our time looking at the outside world; watching the news, sitting in coffee shops people watching, staring out of the window wondering what might have been. How many of us live in the ‘real’ world? What is ‘real’? Is it what we can see, taste and touch? Or is it something more than that? Is it a combination of emotions, interactions and reactions?

One can argue, of course, that we are what we are. Humans made the same. Granted, there are disparities between us, those with higher or lower intelligence perhaps, those on higher or lower incomes, those with higher or lower physical abilities. We are, however, in essence all human. We all have senses (and far more than those five that are espoused to exist. Senses of balance and direction being other examples) and we use them to heighten our reality and our connection to the ‘real’ world.

It could also be argued, of course, that it is through our interactions with people that we come to live in the ‘real’ world. After all, it was John Donne that said ‘No man is an island’. Is it perhaps the case that we come to the ‘real’ world through other people? That on our own, our lives mean nothing?

It’s tough to imagine a world with only one person in it. What would you do? Would you go crazy? Would it be possible to be crazy if there’s no one to tell you are? After all, our concepts of sanity or insanity are relative concepts, as are many of the labels we attach to people. Is the ‘real’ world then a battle for superiority to be ‘better’ than the others who you live with? Certainly, a subversion of a Darwinian methodology would seem to point to this as would a vast majority of much political philosophy, not to mention some psychological schools of thought. 

People make people real. Also swan chariots!

One is said to be most alive when they are closest to death or right on the edge, embroiled in a struggle with their fellow man. Men are also seen to be at their most ‘macho’ when they are fighting with another. Boxing, wrestling, most sports and anyone in the armed forces, not to mention regular gym goers could all be pointed out as the most ‘masculine’ within our society. Are they then the most ‘real’ people in our society or the ones who get closest to what ‘real’ is?

By contrast, women are said to be closest to what ‘real’ is after the birth of a child. The release of oxytocin floods their system and the bonding between mother and child takes place. Is this then the most ‘real’ experience we can know? Is it right that there should be a distinction between males and females in this respect?

It seems foolish to continue to try and define what ‘real’ is. There are many possible definitions and for one person to try and make sense is demeaning to everyone else. What I will say however, is that for me, reality is definitely best found through other people. Sadly, reality isn’t as wonderful as others would have us believe and burying one’s head in the sand frequently seems like the best option. Others will chastise and berate one for doing this. They will say ‘He’s out of touch’, ‘He’s taken a walk off the planet’ and ‘He’s not present, he’s not engaging with the world’. To them, I say: The world hurts. More than we can possibly come to terms with. Those small victories like gaining and maintaining superiority over one’s fellow man or having a child are the things that keep us going. We need people and none of us should be ashamed of that. We all want to be loved, we want to be admired and cared about and anyone who tries to take that away from us will have ‘reality’ brought to their doorstep. Between a man's testosterone and a women’s oxytocin, nothing gets in the way.

Reality, for me, is a combination of desire and fear. Desire to be loved, wanted and needed and fear of losing it, once one has it. That’s what those people in the coffee shops are looking for, I think. You can’t ‘sense’ reality either. All those interactions with everyone you meet are what make up reality. One could say nature is part of reality but I don’t think it is. Reality is shared experiences. That’s what it means to be human; to share experiences. We can choose to disconnect by being on our phones, on the internet, on Facebook and that’s all well and good but we need shared experiences to bring us closer to each other and give us ‘real’ experiences. If nature is shared, it is real.

I know this brings problems as well, because those things that are absolutely individual to us, such as sleep, couldn’t be real in this case. However, the other side of the argument is that the things that are most real are the things we share most; art, drama, music, books, film, and so on. Perhaps then, the most individual things to us such as fighting (not necessarily on a physical level but on any competitive level) or having a child are the things most ‘real’ for an individual. Yet on a community level, the things we share most, such as our creativity, are the things that are most ‘real’. Maybe it’s a combination of the two that enables us to grasp our surroundings and prioritise as to what’s most important. Maybe it’s necessary for people to have both sides of the coin and be able to do both as well as the other.

One thing is sure though: The latter one buries their head in the sand; they’ve lost touch with both themselves and their community.

The world hurts. Engage or create. Either one will do.

Mark Tannett

Art by Harry Wareham

Happiness and the City, by Eliza Veretilo

Happiness and the City, by Eliza Veretilo

People who live in cities either love or loathe them. The advantages and disadvantages are countless and living in one creates habits that can change you as a person. Originally, cities were planned around a place of gathering, like a market or a church. Thus we have their social nature; but they were also designed for protection, which is why old cities have walls around them. These walls would not only protect people from enemy attacks but also from the chaos of nature. So far, cities seem like a good place to live, products and services are accessible and you are provided protection, but are cities really that good for us? Are they the epitome of civilization? Why did people abandon the fields and move to the flats? Are people happier there? Does art, culture and technology develop faster in cities and if so, why?

Living in London, which is a modern day mega-city (of around 10 million inhabitants) and one of the most important art cradles of the past century, I have always wondered whether and why people become so productive here. The city demands a lot of you. It can drain you both financially and energetically. So why choose the city? To explore these questions I am going to sit on the edge of Freud’s essay ‘Happiness and Civilization’. We agreed that in theory, cities are good places to live and that art develops at an amazing speed; but art doesn’t always spring from happiness. Anger, sadness, wrath and loneliness have inspired some of the most beautiful art pieces.

Cites isolate people within an incredibly populated space, pretty paradoxical. Parting from the notion that human beings are sociable creatures, this contradiction of ‘belonging’ to a city but ‘not’ to the community at the same time (for instance people don’t know who lives next door) may cause a sort of frustration and deep loneliness which perpetuates the accelerated life style of the city and perhaps gives birth to angry art. 

So, surely the biggest exodus that has occurred in human history, when millions moved from the country side to the city in China in 2009, has to be viewed as a good thing, as progress? Here I am going to have to argue a big: NO. People are getting charmed by the glow of the city lights and are starting to forget where things (food for example) really come from. This can especially be seen in the mega-cities and across the urbanised ‘developed world’. The accessible resources and seeming big opportunities are a dangerous lullaby. Contact with nature and a sense of community have become obsolete, though not in reality, only as propaganda for the metropolises. I am in favour of individuality and think that everyone should be entitled to do as they feel, but the mega-city may not be the best place to bloom, it does not give you independence, high rents and long working hours are not my idea of freedom. 

The average person in a modern city interacts with at least three hundred people a day depending on their job (by interact I mean being in the same bus, cafe, at the till of a shop, etc). As this happens daily, we start creating habits that we may not even be fully aware of; maybe our brains are trying to cope with the sea of faces and storm of activities we see around us City people are quicker to pick trends and new technology, why? Maybe because their ‘copy-cat’ survival instinct is constantly working at high speed. There are exceptions, of course, such as tramps, but that’s a different story about people who were perhaps pushed to disillusionment by the city itself. Coming back to your average office or shop worker at the city, where trends spread like fire in a paper house, these people will be quicker to get all the codes in appearance of urban tribes, different social statuses and jobs. They are over-exposed, and that makes them over-aware. If you think of the geography of the planet, we have so many vast open spaces, and staring at these landscapes does nothing but good to us. The National Geographic says we can fit all 7 billion human beings in the city of Los Angeles so why do we insist on cramming up? Are factories and businesses in need of workers accumulating human labour in cities and have complete disregard for actual human needs besides the basics? I think yes.

City people live under constant pressure from all angles and almost no release; there is a layer of individuals who are almost expected to be more cultured, to have money, to have a position, that’s what people want when they move to the city, right? Cities do have a dense accumulation of: universities, libraries, museums and galleries as well as bars, casinos and night clubs. The choice is there, the city engulfs you. I do believe that the incredible amount of ‘choice’ and lack of ‘air’ (literally and figuratively) can cause frustration in individuals and this relatively new phenomenon: stress, is a consequence of urban living; and poverty.

City people are also almost forced to maintain a serious facial expression and a tougher attitude in order to keep their place in a cue, for instance, but it could also be because of a fear of crime, which is a hard reality of the city. This surely will have consequences in your real mood, if you have to pretend to be moody all day. Maybe it has been this constant interaction with people which at the same time hides an infinite solitude and the pressure to appear tougher in order to survive, that has made cities the default hatching point of development, not of happiness or contentment but of stuff yes, material things. Also, rooted in non-conformism, cities are hatching places for art and culture, crude, rude and true, street art reflects our dissatisfied state.

To Freud, there were three main sources of unhappiness: our own bodies, the environment (the rain for example) and our relations to others. If we address each one with regards to the city, we can see how the city can be a candy coated paradise, till it cracks. Our body causes us much distress, with its many needs, lust and tiredness. It gets in the way of plans and projects. In the city, we can find easy solutions for our bodily needs, we have food from all over the world, ready-made and sometimes very cheap, we have brothels, we have night clubs, we have hotels, we have drugs. Cities offer a lot of easy escapes which the country side doesn’t, in the country side you need a more planned life, you need to stock up your fridge, and its harder to find a partner, but maybe, maybe the end results are more substantial. The environment in the city is almost an artificial one, we put sand over rivers to build roads and build canals in valleys to give way to boats. Human beings manipulate the land of cities over and over again as if they stopped being part of nature and became permanent construction grounds. In the country side, on the other hand, people have to dwell a bit more with the environments, a snow storm will block the road, but, at the same time, people at the country side, especially the ones that do like to get their hands dirty, can get into a harmonious rhythm with the environment, the seasons, nature, the pace of growth of plants can tell us a lot about ourselves and can be great shapers of character. How else do you think human beings can survive in the Sahara desert and the Himalayas? Because we can work with nature.

City people get consumed by their work, they can become automatons that only want to sleep and eat. Meeting friends becomes harder; a few lucky ones have families, which is a great source of happiness according to Freud. Many, many city people feel isolated, perhaps consumed with the idea that work is home and home is a place to sleep. Some think they should be more ambitious and chase the rabbit’s tail of the city dream: a better job, a better flat, nicer clothes, be more powerful, be respected; but most of the time they end up in the same job, trying to cover the same bills, saving up for the never coming holiday, its sad but statistically true. Country side people have a choice, they can be isolated or be part of their community. A smaller town means that the chances of meeting its inhabitants are higher and a more relaxed, less competitive environment means people are more likely to stop, talk and share. This is not intended to be a 'City versus Country side article; I am just suggesting that we could live differently.

Still, the city feels unnatural, with its millions of inhabitants, most of which are lonely hearts. Perhaps it is that feeling of emptiness that creates art, an art that tries to create an impression, to exist and to shock, to change. It is also the sense of comfort which the city claims to provide which makes city people so innovative and always in the search for a new thing, a search for more comfort perhaps, something easier, stronger, better, shinier, faster; as if the city was an invisible personal trainer that was always saying: keep pushing. With this statement I am not saying that art is not created in the country side, or that people from more rural environments are less creative, the only thing I am comparing here is the speed rate, the incredible velocity of development that occurs in the city. It is perhaps, the social pressure of the city what has increased the speed so incredibly.

But why do we still move into the cities? Maybe to look for better jobs, we could work the land but we don’t, why? In Freud’s words: humans don’t search for happiness, humans avoid pain. Our herd instinct is perhaps stronger than we like to admit. In 20 years at least 80% of us will be living in cities, either because old cities will expand or because mass migration to the cities will continue. Perhaps we need to reconsider this; perhaps we need to restore a balance. More attention to the softer, more patient side of our characters, the one that is able to look after a plant, a field, a horse, can teach the city rat a few things about well being, as patience is a limited resource in the city. We need it back. Perhaps if we weren’t so consumed with the idea that we need to impress to exist in the city, we would move slower, even create slower but deliver quality, the quality that comes from dedicated, enjoyed, non-pressured work. Perhaps if people didn’t loose themselves to the concrete streets, or if there was something other than just concrete in our streets, our city tales would be less about anger and more about sharing and the result would be, happiness and the city.

Art by Harry Wareham

Sadness as theft, by Lloyd Duddridge

Sadness as theft, by Lloyd Duddridge

“I do believe that if you haven't learnt about sadness, you cannot appreciate happiness."

-Nana Mouskouri

“Thou shall not steal”

- Some old fella

The longer I live,the more I see that for many people,sadness is inescapable. These people, often very bright, seem unable to outrun,or out-hide the monster of tragedy. It is often the default setting of thinkers to try and understand happiness,this is to be commended,for there can be no greater end than happiness. However as I see sadness engulf more and more peoples lives,I want to try and understand just what sadness is.

For me sadness seems to be linked to theft. Theft does not have to be seen in material terms. We do not have to leap to televisions,and Ipods when we think of theft. The theft that I feel is linked to sadness, is the theft of potential, the theft of opportunity. This is why we are sadder when faced with the death of a baby, than with the death of a centurion. For it is obvious that in most cases,death has robbed the baby,of a plethora of opportunities,where as the centurion,has been given time in which to conduct his life,and thus has been robbed of less. This idea can also be why we feel it is a sad life,to live in a poverty or ill heath. Poverty robs people of many opportunities,its not being poor in itself,its the conclusions that it leads to that is sad. It is the same with ill health.

The corollary of this conception of the sadness,is the opportunities that are missed or wasted. The origin of the love story, is not love found,but love missed. Love,or the opportunity for love,cannot be missed by much. Sadness lives in plausibility, so we do not cry,for the two year old baby, who cannot run the hundred meters in under ten seconds,but we are sad for the athlete that trains for the Olympics,but breaks his leg, they day before the event. It is the same with sadness in romantic love,we are sad for those that come close,but not close enough. The sadness rests, in the helplessness of the people or as is often the case,the person involved. This is why the image of a hand that is reached out,but is met with nothing is so powerful. Unrequited love,is only sad if,it had the potential to be requited. It can't be possible to feel as much sympathy with the woman that falls for a elephant, as for the best friends,who never quite get it together. Think of all the sad books, or films,or plays. They will live in one of these too senses of sadness as theft. Think of Romeo and Juliet,the sadness lies in the robbing of the opportunity of a prolonged love. Recall the end of Casablanca, an opportunity missed, to timing and contingency.

If we could live a hundred times,there would be no sadness. We could test everything out. No sadness,yet also no hope. No need for risk,no need for excitement. Sadness is the exchange we make for beauty. However don't allow this to let the doom mongers win out. For if sadness lies in lost opportunities, happiness must lie in grasping opportunities. Just as when a toddler is learning to walk he will fall a few times,he does not give up,you will often find if you look hard enough,the happy person has grazes on their knees. Sadness in the world is inevitable,your sadness is not. Nietzsche calls for a 'will to power',this is what he meant. He did not meant the power, to have the largest army,or the most powerful body. He meant the power to avoid sadness. The power to escape being the hand that reaches for thin air.

Thou shall not steal, is the eighth commandment. Now I am not believer myself,but what if this commandment makes more sense than we think. What if the commandment meant,don't steal people opportunities,don't rob them of what they could have. The positive side of this is that, we should help people fulfil the the potential they have. Perhaps this help could help people transgressing the unwritten commandment 'Thou shall not waste'. Sadness is often like quicksand,thelonger you stay within it,the harder it is to escape.

The hand can both swat and grasp. It is sad to have no hand at all, it is even sadder to have a hand,and to only swat.

The Philosophy Tales – Alli Star - By Ellese Elliott

The Philosophy Tales – Alli Star -

By Ellese Elliott

Once upon a time, there was a young boy with a great mind called Allistar.

All day and all night Allistar wondered about questions that others thought were quite silly.

Although his mind was great, he had a lot of trouble fitting in at school. No one understood him. But he did not care to be understood, but only to understand. Whilst his peers were at play Allistar stared at the sky waiting for the stars. He found that no matter how hard he stared, as long as the sun was in the sky the stars could not be seen. And as sure as can be, when the sun began to set, he would see the first natural twinkle that was not projected from a jet. He saw the stars.

Allistar asked this question; Where did the stars go when the sun rose and why did they come back when the sun went to bed?

He stared long and hard and thought even harder. Days would pass and so would nights and Allistar would stay on the same patch of land trying to answer the same question at hand; where did the stars go when the sun rose?

Maybe the stars shot off faster then the speed of light. Or maybe they automatically turn off to preserve their energy. Could it be that a mystical being turns off the star lights one by one? Or aliens need the stars when the sun visits the earth and at our sundown they no longer needed the stars; they had the sun. Could it be that the stars stay there and my eyes don't work as well in the day?

Allistar decided that he may need more specialized equipment if he wanted to know the answer - a bigger brain! But then, as he was only ten years old and did not (at that time) know how to perform a brain growth spurt or brain transplant, Allistar fetched a telescope.

On the same patch of land he returned looking into his sky with his telescope. However, everything looked the same as before, just bigger. As Allistar was looking up he felt a splash of water on his face: “Oh no, rain!"

Dark clouds began to cover the sky turning day quickly into night. Fat droplets of rain ran down from the sky towards the earth. Allistar felt foiled.

Yet he was not deterred. He sat humbly on that same patch of land with his face towards the heavens and closed his eyes. He felt the rain pattering down on his head, beating down like a drum. He breathed in slowly and asked the same question; where did the stars go when the sun rose and why did they come back when the sun went to bed?

Many different answers to this question ran through his mind. With each answer, another more intriguing answer overshadowed the first. If the answer was not overshadowed it was dismantled by its lack of sense. Allistar's clothes were soaked through and the rain started to subside. And then Allistar said this;

"Maybe there is more then one answer! Could it be possible that the stars are there and not there? Or that aliens did borrow the stars and a mystical being did turn them      off. Why does it have to be one answer or the other? The world seems so vast and so great it could all be possible. Even if it is a contradiction!"

And with this thought Allistar opened his eyes to an amazing sight. It was morning. The sky had been painted orange and blue. And a rainbow had appeared. Even if he did not have the one answer he craved he now had many and the journey to that answer was unforgettable. Allistar got up, stretched out his arms and walked home. But as he walked a question arose in his mind; why do rainbows only have seven colours and not ten? And then the journey started all over again.

The end

Submerged into Subjectivity - By Selim 'Selim' Talat

Submerged into Subjectivity

By Selim 'Selim' Talat

    I look upon the human being as an empty vessel, seeking approval. This approval can come from anywhere. We have seen it, time and time again. You can be approved of by the Furher, by the Priest, by the King. To those of us outside of these circles of approval it seems utterly ridiculous, and obvious that the fanatical beliefs of people are blatantly false.

Yet for the people holding those beliefs, they gain so much easy approval from those around them that to jettison said mental retardants is to destroy the very foundation upon which their egotistic souls take their stead.

From childhood, our most vulnerable time, we are moulded by parents approval and disapproval. We are so used to being fashioned by human authority that we probably do not think about it too much, instead competing with each other mindlessly, forever beneath the shadow of a parental government and amoral corporation. We are taught to take the world for granted. This ignorance may seem blissful in the short term, yet in the long term the weak mind grows frustrated, for it cannot understand that its own foolish actions lead to its downfall; the mind entrenched in belief has no ability to use reason to understand cause and effect (which will help them grow more powerful than the events around them).

Yet we are not forever malleable. A belief once entrenched is hooked in like a flea, and no amount of tearing at the flesh can remove that flea. The believer must consistently feed their belief, and confirm that belief, yet they will always look to do so, and will not willingly pull the rug of faith from under their own feet.

So, human beings are approval engines. The question is, where will you find the approval necessary to make you feel like a successful human being?

Will you retreat into your immediate social circle and build walls around yourself; tend to each others wounds constantly and justify the world in terms familiar to you; stay safe in a cocoon with your friends; find company which maintains similar beliefs to yourself; think yourself successful based on the standards created by your group; see the approval of the group as an end in itself.

Or

Will you grasp after something beyond you. Seek to create works of art and philosophy and music that will heal the wounds of humanity; dare to compare yourself to the masters of your age (and the ages beyond); strive to find immortality in the infinity of glorious universal creativity.

Choose carefully.