This is sometimes called the attempt to define god into existence, and was first proposed by Anselm of Canterbury (1033—1109). This original version was busted by Kant and Hume amongst others, but lo and behold, it resurfaced after several reworkings. While modern apologists are mightily proud of the shiny new gloss this has given the argument, it still devolves to the same thing:
A thing that can be imagined to exist, must exist, if it is imagined to have certain properties.
Clearly this is nonsense. However the dense fug of philosophical obscurantism is, as usual, used to hide the central argument, so let me expand what it says:
God is a being greater than which none can be conceived (unsubstantiated premise.)
Sniff! She died. She’s been with me these last five years, and she’d been around a good few years before we met. She was like a female character out of a Springsteen lyric, kinda worn and raggedy, but she stuck with me through thick and thin. I don’t know how many films or repeats of TV series I’ve watched with her, or how many words I wrote with her, but I do know the paint was gone from most of her keys at the end…I did explain it was my old laptop that died, didn’t I?
My neighbour was given this with a load of other bits and bobs. She thought it was a toy, but closer examination made me disagree. For a start, it was quite clearly a gun of some order, but it didn’t have any kind of handle. There wasn’t a conventional trigger either.
It might have been a toy cannon, but it didn’t have a carriage. Yet opening it up revealed that it was chambered to take a real twelve-bore shotgun cartridge. Plus it’s made of very heavy cast iron. It’s just not like a child’s toy at all.
It’s a striking thought that civilisation evolved here on Earth only 7,000 years ago. Since then, humans have achieved many really incredible things. But even in terms of our own—mostly unwritten—history, 7,000 years is almost insignificant; it’s less than 4 % of the time Homo sapiens, the storytelling ape, has existed.
Surely it is a nasty, dirty, smelly procedure best consigned to the bucket of history? Surely digital is cheaper, easier, faster, more modern? And worst of all, film is analogue—well that’s just not right.
Does homosexuality exist, other than as a collection of sexual practices? How can it be seen as a separate sexuality at all? After all, sexuality admits only two roles, the male, or active, and the female or passive. In inter-male sex particularly, one party must play the female and the other the male role. This is axiomatic. So for the duration of the sexual encounter they are adopting conventional sex roles. Yes folks, one of them has to be a girl. On the other hand homosexuality, as understood today, implies attraction. Are there really big strong masculine men out there who are attracted to other big strong masculine men? And if so, what happens to the recipient, when he is anally seduced? Can he remain a man? Impossible. He is performing female sexuality and so must himself be female. Which ever way you crack it, this egg devolves to the conventional sex roles of inserter and insertee.
I was set off down this line of thought by a recent throw-away comment by JK Rowling, the author, who said that ‘If there is no sex, then there is no same-sex attraction.’ Well, I ask again, is there any such thing at all? And why should we get so exercised about it? The fact is that the currently dominant Western model, the New Gay Man, simply did not exist until around 1970 and still is restricted to the Anglo-Saxon West. Why is what might well be a passing phase — especially given that there are thousands, probably tens of thousands of years of historical record describing other forms of inter-male sex — so revered? Why is ‘gay’ on a pedestal, untouchable and apparently above criticism?
Dr Peggy Reeves Sanday is best known for her work amongst a tribal people called the Minangkabau who live in Indonesia. They are also called the Urang Padang and are the largest ethnic group on the island of Sumatra, whose traditional homeland is the west-central highlands. While these are notionally Muslim, they actually follow what is locally called an ‘adat’ which is a tribal set of beliefs, permitted under the local form of Islam. There are many of these.
I’m at the local motorcycle repair shop where Sherwyn, a most competent mechanic and pleasant cove, is replacing a brake master cylinder on the Blaze. He first thought to replace only the seals, but he can’t find the right size. A new cylinder is 400 pesos, just under six quid, an unwell encephalopod. I just tell him to get on with it. Sherwyn works in the open space outside a motorcycle parts shop, where he seems to buy most of his stuff, although, as today, sometimes he has to go further afield. While I wait I sit on a wooden bench in the shade and observe the street life. Baklas soon begin to appear; it’s like they’re in the woodwork.
Feminism has always been a lie. It is a deception perpetrated on women, in order to make them the front-line troops in a Communist Revolution. If you don’t believe me, read Gloria Steinem: ‘the only thing Marx got wrong is that the means ARE the end’.
The sex-doll issue, which was bubbling in the news-feeds as feminists set it up for attack — until COVID-19 stole the show — is illustrative of how they use sex to exercise power over men. No women are harmed in a sexual exchange between a man and a piece of plastic, yet somehow it is still ‘demeaning to women’ for this to happen. How is that even possible? It’s a SEX TOY.