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.

Art and Poetry by Sean Mcdonagh and David Mcdonagh respectively

Kids corner - By Ellese Elliot

Kids corner, By Ellese Elliot

Speaker 1: Aliens!
Speaker 2: Where?
Speaker 1: Out there!
Speaker 3 : Ewwww gross   
Speaker 2 : Yuk! They have gunge implanted into their top parts!
Speaker 1: And holes in their bodies - You can see their insides.
Speaker 3: Eeeewwwwwwwww. Disgusting!
Speaker 2: Don't look Speaker 1 and Speaker 3.
Speaker 1: What?
Speaker 2 They're putting some weird stuff into their holes.
Speaker 3: Ewwww! Why do you think they're doing that?
Speaker 2: Probably so no one can see their hideous insides!


All: Ha ha ha . Ah Ha ha ha!

Speaker 3: But look - they do seem to be smart, in a backward type of way.
Speaker 2: How?
Speaker 3: Well they are building massive things to live in, which are millions of times bigger than they are to-
Speaker 1: To-
Speaker 3: To destroy themselves!
Speaker 2: Do you think they are doing it because they are so gross?
Speaker 1 and 2: Ha ha ha.
Speaker 2: But it's quite beautiful, in a ugly, dark kind of way.
Speaker 1: Meh (shrugs).
Speaker 2: A life that strives towards its own death.
Speaker 3: Poetic speaker 2.
Speaker 2: Thank you speaker 3.
Speaker 1: Maybe they think death is better.
Speaker 2: I don't see what all the rage is about. I've died a few times- it aint all it's cracked up to be.
Speaker 3: Look at them - making such complicated stuff to do something that is so simple.
Speaker 1: Ha ha- how stupid...

End thoughts:

What do you think aliens would think about us if they visited our planet? Do you think our view of aliens is limited by our minds or the fact that we haven't seen them? Do you think we are so used to our own ways that we label other things alien when they are really just like us? There is a long history of encounters with the unknown and we tend to judge before we understand. But let us try to understand before we judge. 

Art by Harry Wareham

Don't let it be. - By Lloyd Duddridge

Don't let it be.

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Flight to Arras, 1942

We live in an age of data,everything can be statistically analysed,we can have a pie chart for this,a neat formula for that. We treat intelligence in the same way,we treat it in a mathematical way, and we like to give people a number. A child is encouraged to know exactly what level it is at. Yet is this picture of intelligence,helpful, should intelligence ever be conceived in this way ? I would argue that it is not; if anything it distorts intelligence and its nature.

    So let me first say what I consider the nature of intelligence to be. In the words of 'Hey Jude' by the Beatles,intelligence lies in taking a sad song and making it better. What I am arguing is that intelligence is creative. It is the art of making a situation the best it can possibly be. Intelligence is the art of adapting experience. I imagine intelligence to be similar to fishing. Imagine the stream is experience,on its own it will just flow, it is just a process. The act of intelligence, is the act of plucking the fish from the stream. You can not take too many fishes,for too many would be hard to keep. The good fisherman, knows just how many fish to take from the stream. This is the same with intelligence,too many thoughts would overwhelm us. We must be selective,and selection involves a creative process. Thus in this conception of intelligence,intelligence is not given as commonly held. It is not a gift, it requires work.  Intelligence is an act. However the question must then be asked,what  is intelligence selecting towards ? What is their end? What is their goal ? I would argue that the end must be happiness.

     This may at first seem a vague goal. You will ask - 'Well define happiness then fella', or say that everyone has different ideas of what makes them happy. I would agree with you it is a vague goal. However I would say that it is still the goal that we aim towards. This requires a leap of faith on my part. It requires me to hold the belief that it is more intelligent to want to be happy,than to want to be unhappy. This is a leap I am willing to take. Once I take this leap, I can link a critique back to my starting point of the conception of intelligence as a number. For in the statistical  definition of intelligence,we miss and disregard a lot of what I would class as intelligent action. Take for example the person,who sees the suffering of African children,goes over to Africa and helps to build a school. You may say that this is a kind, perhaps moral action but not necessarily intelligent. Yet I would say that this action lies at the heart of intelligence. The person that is building the school, has identified a problem, a state of experience they do not agree with,and attempted to solve this problem. They have taken a sad song,and tried to make it better. This links intelligence and morality,and so it should. This is not a new or novel idea, in fact it goes back all the way to Socrates.

     This conception of intelligence see the intellect as active rather than passive. It says the intelligent man is the man who can not simply read a pattern,but can make the pattern that they see is best. Does this mean that anything is permitted ?  Well yes and no. Everything should be attempted and tested, if only in the mind. For example genocide, does not need to be physically tested before we know its a bad idea,it can be tested in the arena of thought. However in general, all ideas and solutions should be tested. The fact I used the word tested, means there is something that an idea must be tested against. The test is seeing if an idea will work when it comes up against the wall that is experience. So for example, I have the idea that I want to fly. If I jump out of my window, I will injure myself, and if I take injury to be a negative thing I will see that my initial idea of flying has failed. However if I get in a plane,and jump out of it with a parachute, I have seen that I am able to fly, without injuring myself. Thus the second course of action is the more intelligent. After a period of time we may accept other peoples tests,rather than having to do them ourselves. This stage is why most of us will accept a scientist, or a doctor. However we must not become complacent, we must continue to test for ourselves. Or else our intelligence becomes flabby, and flaccid.

    So I argue that intelligence is active not passive,creative not given,moral not mathematical. So people, take up your fishing rods,and catch a sad song,and make it better.  

By Lloyd Duddridge

Why study Philosophy at all in this day and age? - Phil Overal

Why study Philosophy at all in this day and age?

Why would a group of (apparently) sane and intelligent people spend their time on a ‘Philosophy’ stall? What IS Philosophy anyway? 

What’s the point of it all?

Sometimes, when I look at the world, my degree, and all the various things I’ve done, I wonder why... well, actually, no, I don’t, but the article needs a framing device. And the question ‘Why?’ is as good as any. In truth, I know why I did Philosophy and it’s a secret I plan to share with you.

The thing about Philosophy is, more than anything else, it requires thought. Lots of thought. Luckily, an inquiring mind is all you need. The subject was born out of a lack of knowledge and a lack of science. In the words of Bertrand Russell, Philosophy “...is something of an intermediate between theology and science”. Science is the observed, the experimented. You look at the world, you poke it, you describe what you see, you make predictions, and see if they match up. If they do, then your theory is correct until the next iteration blows it out the water (see Newton vs. Einstein). It’s all based on what you can see, more or less. In fact, scientists before the word ‘science’ was invented were called ‘natural philosophers’, i.e. theorising about the natural world.

Theology, on the other hand, is arch certainty. Something descends from on high (the Pope, the Holy Book, the imam, the whatever) and tells you the world was made in six days, God made the world, mankind ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and now we're damned for all eternity because Adam couldn’t just obey God (really, God ought to have planned his garden better and put that tree up a hill...and that is why God created ‘landscape architecture’).

In between is Philosophy. Philosophy is about thinking things through, arguing and making things consistent, but it’s all speculative. The fields of interest to Philosophy are, or were, unknowable at the time. So, smart men thought about it using logic as their guide and tried to work out...well, the world. How do ethics work? What is the world made of? What can we know? What kind of knowledge is the best?

Some of these questions have become the realm of science. As science has expanded its scope and knowledge, Philosophy has receded from these subjects. Many philosophers, from those who lived before Socrates, to the 17th century, pondered what the world was made of.  Science probed the heart of the atom, then the heart of the proton, and now, we have awesome machines somewhere beneath the Swiss French border, looking for more answers. Philosophy has rescinded these questions.

Others are as alive today as they ever were. Ethics is a fascinating subject. I love it. There’s so much to it, yet so many easy places to grasp at it from. When I talk to people about Philosophy, this is often where I start. Theology often provides ‘answers’ to Man’s moral dilemmas, showing us books and saying “Here is the proof”. Moral philosophy puts forth arguments which, if not perfect, provide us with a greater grounding on which to find our own answers.

Yet I still haven’t answered those first questions. Why do Philosophy in this day and age? After all, I hear you cry (I have sensitive ears) ‘you said science is encroaching on Philosophy’s territory all the time.’ It is, but that doesn’t make Philosophy any less valuable. There will always be questions which can’t be solved by science. Questions which require a sharp eye, a sharp mind, questioning and equipped to see the flaws in arguments. These are qualities Philosophy gives you. Not only are its subjects fascinating, either as the foreword to science or as a study in itself, but the tools you need for it are increasingly important for questioning a world in which people seek to pull the wool over your eyes, with fancy foot work and quick words. Philosophy lets you see the hollowness in those words, to cut through the bullshit and get to the heart of the matter.

It is important to remember, and I cannot stress this enough, that just because our understanding of science was possibly ‘less advanced’ in Ancient times, does not mean we should look at the world any differently to how they did. Whilst it may seem that during ancient times everything explored and discovered seemed shiny and new, and now there is ‘nothing left to discover’, nothing could be further from the truth. Socrates believed that we could only find the truth through questioning and this still applies today. Philosophy enhances your ability to see the world with fresh perspective, to gain child-like wonder, and to see everything you thought you ‘knew’ as ‘new’. To re-‘new’ that spark of ‘what if...?’ you had forgotten about years ago. We somehow idealise Ancient Greece as an intellectual revolution, where major leaps in science, maths, politics, literature, and philosophy somehow prove they were smarter than the current generation. Yet all these ‘geniuses’ had was an inquiring mind and lots of time on their hands. Inquire. Question everything, especially yourself. Ask ‘Why? If children had adult intelligence they would make perfect philosophers, as their perspective is not bound by preconceptions, with infinite curiosity. Luckily, you have adult perspective, and you can regain your infinite curiosity making you –yes, you- a philosopher. I challenge you, -yes, you – for ONE WEEK to ask the five W’s about EVERYTHING. Why is it morning? Why do you eat cereal? Why did you pick THAT cereal? Try it, and see your philosophical skills soar...     

Philosophy, in short, is the art of critical thought, and analysis, about anything and everything. It fills the space between what we know now, and indeed, what we can know. It looks at everything from why we live, to how we should live (or should we?) to what we can know. And the toolkit it gives is more powerful than anything else for analysing the world’s current affairs.

Phil Overal

Art by Harry Wareham

The Art of Carrying On, the amazingly unnecessary use of a Pop-Culture reference, with a side order of legal theory! - By Siobhan 'Shaz' Wilson

People are pre-occupied with perfection. People strive towards perfection. People are never happy unless they ‘have’ perfection. People obsess about perfection.

See? It has taken me, a self-confessed perfectionist, four different sentences to express the same idea: people want perfection. Unfortunately, through all of our self-lecturing for getting up three hours later than expected, eating Frosties for breakfast, and then sitting around in our pyjamas watching Jeremy Kyle until noon AGAIN, we miss something. People are imperfect.

This demand for perfection, and fury at imperfections is well-illustrated in public opinion of the legal system. We idealise the legal system to be sacred, and pure, and perfect. It is the stuff of comic books: The holy beacon of justice, run by these ‘superpeople’, who are far more intelligent, eloquent well-bred and efficient than we could even fathom. Yet every superhero experiences a backlash. How could our sacred, untouchable system ever go wrong? Why did it go wrong? How could that rioter get six months for stealing two bottles of water? Why haven’t rioters’ benefits been taken away? Why is this system not perfect? Holy smokes Batman- there is no justice anymore! And so, the myth of the legal system as an impenetrable ivory tower perpetuates, and we continue grasping for perfection in life, spectators and commentators on injustice that is seemingly evident everywhere, yet never taking action as we are too busy deciding which cereal contains more antioxidants, and feeling disappointed in the fallen idols we elected to save us.

People are imperfect. The legal system is man-made. The legal system is imperfect. A man-made creation is susceptible to man’s fallibility. We put the ‘law’ in ‘flawed’. Trials are slow due to inadequate facilities to hear cases. Trials are costly. Access to legal services is narrowing due to Government cuts to legal aid and closure of legal centres. Evidence is lost or inadmissible. Witnesses are unreliable. The law is inconsistent. The UK ‘adversarial’ approach to trial (Prosecution v Defence) means verdicts often depend on who has the better lawyer, not the case with the most merit. It may seem preposterous that we rely on such an imperfect system to resolve the ever-present problem of disputes and crime. This is correct. It is preposterous. It is preposterous that we so easily rely on such a small, select number of academics, judges and MP’s to reform. The law was designed by us, for us, over thousands of years through cases, protests, lobbying, legislation, and public demand. It is imperfect. Of course it is imperfect – we designed it. But it is OURS. The law doesn’t belong in an overpriced book in Waterstones, or in a weekly supplement in The Times (although do give those a read – it’s fascinating stuff). It belongs in public everyday discourse. It doesn’t belong as the preserve of ‘learned’ academics, or even of several thousand law students. The law is not to be preserved, like a ready meal, full of E-numbers we can’t pronounce, to remain frozen until the inevitable zombie apocalypse. The law is fruit. Fresh, often covered in an impenetrable skin which, once peeled, exposes a raw juice which can taste bitter at times yet once consumed, is often nourishing. Like fruit, the law cannot be left to fester without being used. It simply expires and rots. The law is best when exposed and consumed by the public.

To draw another terrible parallel, in ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’(required watching by all students), Buffy says in ‘Chosen’: ‘In every generation, one Slayer is born, because a bunch of men who died thousands of years ago made up that rule. So I say we change that rule. I say my power should be OUR power.’ Back in the unfortunately non-supernatural real world, in 1176-7, King Henry II divided England into six parts or ‘circuits’, to which he assigned three ‘justices’ or ‘circuit judges’, who were assigned to travel around resolving any disputes which arose in their ‘circuit’. It is from this early creation that our current legal system is born. The administrators of ‘justice’ are no longer selected by the monarchy, or even the House of Commons. Legal reasoning and reform is no longer the preserve of the few. Everyone who should have a say, can have a say. Everyone who wants to understand the law, can understand the law. It is in bookshops and on the internet. There are law firms and campaigns on Twitter. Parliament can be lobbied and petitioned. Cases are available to read. Courts are open to the public. What is happening in OUR legal system is open to discover and scrutinise. It’s almost like a democracy! Oh wait...

I have never experienced absolute perfection. What I do experience is waking up each morning. What I always experience is the passing of time. I have tried and succeeded. I have tried and failed. The Art of Carrying On. The art of finishing something. A job application, a letter, a book, a sprint, a drug program, a petition, a campaign, an article, a day, a month, a year. Life changes.  In my second year of A-levels, I nearly dropped out as I wouldn’t get the ‘perfect’ grades, which, of course, would ruin my entire life as a result. My Film Studies teacher (Incidentally, I nearly dropped Film at AS Level. I now worship regularly at the Church of Stanley Kubrick) said this: ‘Would you rather finish a race at 16^th place, or not finish at all?’ I carried on with my A-levels. I have now completed my first year of Law with a First Class grade. You had a bad day – it is about 99% certain you will wake up tomorrow. People are imperfect. Parliament, Whitehall, the Police, the Court – all imperfect. Perfection doesn’t exist, but beauty, love and goodness still do, as they did yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, making you smile as you eat that flapjack that you really shouldn’t have bought because you are breaking that diet you don’t need to be following, which will be burnt off during that walk to clear you head from that loan/uni/job application that isn’t going well RIGHT NOW, but will be completed, sent off tomorrow and forgotten by next week. The Art of Carrying On. Such is life.

By Siobhan 'Shaz' Wilson