Arthur Anderson49 said:I am deeply convinced that there is some sort of "moral accounting" happening—that every good deed is rewarded and every wrong is punished.
If that’s the case, I suppose you couldn't really call yourself a true agnostic. You'd probably fall more into the category of a believer.
Arthur Anderson49 said:I don't know if you've ever seen the movie 'Flatliners' by Joel Schumacher. If you have, then you know what I mean. Everything matters. Every single action, every thought, every omission—it all goes into the moral ledger, either in the credit or debit column.
But maybe moral accounting isn't just something waiting for us at the end; perhaps it's an internal feeling. I mean, very few people actually feel good when they do something wrong. And when we do something kind, we get—well, a good feeling. Heaven and hell, essentially.
Arthur Anderson49 said:I can't say that I'm not afraid of that final reckoning.
That fear of punishment... well, it suggests you might be more Catholic than you care to admit. Actually, I think that exact fear and anxiety—which would technically be categorized as "bad" or "hellish" feelings—will eventually fade away if you simply focus on doing good.
And if you already are focused on that, then there really isn't much to worry about.
And does that not frighten you even the slightest—or perhaps it doesn't bother you at all?
Actually, there are certain interpretations suggesting that heaven and hell aren't physical destinations we reach after death, but rather internal states of being.
Since you seemed to resonate so much with my description, I can't help but assume you might fall into that second category—the kind where one's spirit isn't nourished by eternal sources, but instead constantly chases fleeting moments of joy, never quite grasping lasting happiness because they’re always hunting for "more," under the mistaken belief that more equals fulfillment.
But then again, those are just my own unsettling assumptions—mostly intended to nudge you back toward the comforting embrace of the Mother Church (I haven't successfully converted any Jews to Catholicism yet this year, so I suppose I'm trying to make up for it by converting an agnostic).
Agnostics are essentially hollow people. They’re amoral and, frankly, quite corrupt. In my view, they suffer from this fundamental indecisiveness—they just can't commit to whether God exists or not—which makes them incredibly easy to sway. I honestly think one decent atheist—someone who knows for certain that God isn't there—carries more weight than fifty of those amoral, wishy-washy agnostics. At least an atheist sins out of a genuine conviction that the laws imposed by some corrupt church shouldn't apply to them, unlike the blind followers who just drift along. Agnostics, on the other hand, seem to sin simply because it suits their whims. It’s really just a symptom of being decadent hedonists. I mean, I’ve met plenty of agnostics, and it seems like every single one of them was constantly smoking marijuana.
And it wasn't even for some lofty goal of expanding their consciousness—no, it was just because it felt good. It’s honestly a shame. Agnosticism is inherently decadent—and decadence eventually leads to ruin because it’s fundamentally rotten. It’s a philosophy that is entirely self-serving. That’s why I believe people should be atheists rather than agnostics. They ought to define themselves in relation to us and our established laws, instead of just making up their own rules as they go.
Where exactly does Jesus call for some violent revolution? To tear down the existing social order? And if I’m remembering correctly—which I might not be—violent revolution is actually a core component of communism. He was speaking about the internal world. Politics is what deals with organizing the external world. So, I’m a bit worried you might be mixing up apples and oranges here. He didn't come to instruct people on whether to be leftists or rightists; he came to teach them—through both his actions and his words—how to be good human beings. If we are going to take your dissection of Jesus seriously, we have to admit he occupied a middle ground. He wasn't calling for the overthrow of the law, but rather for its fulfillment; he wasn't looking to dismantle tradition or topple the government. Yet, at the same time, he helped those in need and stood up for the marginalized—people whom everyone else ignored (sort of like how a civil rights advocate might function in the States)—always emphasizing solidarity and similar values. All things considered, the situation isn't quite that black and white. He was a bit of both. A traditionalist (since he was supposedly a rabbi) and an evolutionist.
Plato said:This is how we should handle it, brothers—by keeping atheists at arm's length so they don't interfere with us too much.
The thing is, I think atheists actually have their own versions of churches, rituals, and religious leaders—it just works differently. They don't use those specific terms, obviously; instead, they might call their "leader" a scientist, for instance. From what I gather, everything in an atheist's life seems centered around empirical knowledge rather than faith, since faith is precisely what they've rejected. Because of this, you'll often hear atheists describing themselves as "open-minded." In doing so, they—perhaps unintentionally—imply that anyone who isn't an atheist lacks that openness, which conveniently ignores the fact that many of history's greatest scientific pioneers were actually people of faith. Personally, my take is this: just as a truly devout believer doesn't strictly *need* a church—though they go because there's a sense of community, especially around Christmas when everyone is in good spirits—an authentic atheist doesn't really need their own "church" either. I suspect both sides mostly need a venue to perform their identities and show the world exactly where they stand.
Richard Lee9 said:So, you're actually feeling guilty about it?! Why is that? Are you saying "no" when you know you could actually help—but choose not to out of some sense of principle—or is it just that you say "no" because you genuinely can't, for some objective reason?
I suppose I just have this tendency where people tend to get attached to me—quite quickly and rather intensely, too.
Because of that, I always find it difficult to turn someone down, even when I have a perfectly valid excuse, simply because I know it’s going to hurt them.
That's just how it is for me. You end up surrounded by people—everyone wanting a slice of your time and attention—and since you can't possibly be there for everyone 100% of the time, these awkward situations just... happen. I'm very aware of the fallout from my refusals. That's why it's such a struggle.
blueranger12 said:I know we aren't supposed to bring up people's real lives here, but yesterday—while I was working over on Main Street—William Gonzalez3 showed up and started picking a fight with me. I mean, it’s a free country; I can choose my own customers wherever I want, right? But then I called security to have him removed, and now it feels like William Gonzalez3 is trying to get back at me through this forum. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, but honestly, it just doesn't feel right.😠
I wasn't calling you weak, per se—I was more implying that you're someone with very little backbone. So, I didn't mean to say you were selling your soul, but rather that you're a sort of yes-man who just can't seem to say no to anyone.
blueranger12 said:And I didn't even mention if it stung when I was peeing...
You couldn't have said that anyway. Just to remind you—
William Gonzalez3 said:blueranger12, does it sting when you pee?
blueranger12 said:When someone asks me something, I instinctively say "yeah, sure, obviously, yep, looks like it, yeah"—because, I guess, that's just how I respond.
(you're still going to hear about what happened yesterday)
none said:It isn't so much a sense of guilt I feel, more like a sense of obligation.😕
Whenever someone asks me something, my reflex—almost an automatic response—is to say "yes, sure, absolutely, let's make it happen," just because it feels like the polite thing to do, I suppose. 😁 Then, usually a moment later, I realize I actually can't commit, so I have to backtrack and say, "Oh, wait, I actually can't." But honestly? When I finally do say "no," I don't feel a single ounce of remorse—and my conscience certainly doesn't bother me at all.
Man, you're such a flake. You're always saying yes, but you never actually follow through. Now, I know I probably shouldn't say this here, but William Gonzalez3 has said "yes" plenty of times before, and it definitely ate at him afterward. And it even bothered him while he was just sitting there in the bathroom. William Gonzalez3 is a total pushover.
He doesn't even know if saying "no" would actually hurt his conscience, since he’s never actually had the guts to do it.
Baron Samedi said:What else would Independence Day be, anyway? 😁
Independence Day belongs to our republic, not yours. It’s a day for the cheerful, hardworking women and the strong, bearded laborers at the high furnaces. Not for those sneaky, nosey bankers and doctors hiding behind their money.
Baron Samedi said:Hell no, the last time I saw William Gonzalez3, he was drinking down at some shady spot near the Wall. 😁
William Gonzalez3 was actually drinking with a blonde Aryan woman—and those bankers were just hovering nearby, terrified of a true anti-Semite.
Baron Samedi said:From what I hear, by the end he couldn't even tell his glass from his hat, so the glass ended up on his head... 😁
That's nonsense. Whoever told you that is clearly lying to you. Anyone who was actually there saw me drinking straight from the bottle, not out of a glass. If you're going to go through the trouble of lying and making things up, I guess you should at least try to make it sound believable.
Baron Samedi said:Is this really what our struggle was meant to achieve?
Go celebrate your Jewish holidays somewhere else—don't come here trying to ruin things by mocking us with your profanity, you heretic. It seems the Inquisition didn't quite manage to clean up your foul language, I see. If the Inquisition couldn't handle it, well, you know who steps in next... William Gonzalez3!
Honestly, Baron, I was expecting a bit more sophistication from you...
Henry Kinasky said:If we look at Switzerland, you have the Frenchmen (let's say Mexicans), the Germans (say, Canadians), and then the Italians (perhaps Americans).
it just won't work. We want to be the Germans. But maybe the Canadians should be the Italians, and you Mexicans can be the Frenchmen. Then—and only then—could we maybe play out a version of World War II.
I can't really give you a specific reason—at least, not one that fits perfectly.
Essentially, it’s about those moments when a person is suddenly confronted with death (violently, in my case) or something just as jarring. It knocks you right out of your comfort zone and forces you to face the reality of how the world actually works.
Everything following that is just an attempt to make sense of this existence. And to truly succeed at that, you can't just pick a single, narrow goal. I mean, you aren't trying to promote one tiny fragment of reality; you’re trying to grasp the whole thing—the entirety of it. The goal is to explain that totality. So, you start asking yourself: what even is this world? How does it even exist in the first place? Is there any actual meaning to it all? Do you have a purpose? Why were you born? What are you made of? What is the world composed of? (I suppose sciences like biology, geography, and physics grew out of questions just like these). This isn't just aimless wandering. It’s more of an investigative journey. Wandering is just drifting—what a spiritual leader might call unconscious roaming. Philosophy, though... it's more like "poking around" with the specific intent of observing everything you encounter. It’s similar to an expedition into the unknown—like heading into a jungle—for the sole purpose of understanding that jungle. In this case, knowledge is its own reward. Imagine a biologist and a philosopher both observing that same jungle, driven by different impulses. The philosopher observes the jungle simply to know it—which, theoretically, means a kind of detached, disinterested observation. The biologist observes it to understand it and then practically apply that knowledge. He wants to eventually put what he learns to use. So, the biologist travels with a concrete objective in mind—perhaps finding a cure for a disease, or identifying resources and figuring out how to exploit them. That specific goal dictates his entire path. But the philosopher doesn't want to be tied down. He knows that having a fixed goal would only clutter his observations, tethering his perspective to one specific thing. And if he let himself be limited like that, it would move him further away from understanding the whole picture, rather than bringing him closer.
amberviper39 said:... or perhaps a sign of wisdom...😍
Based on what?
I mean, what’s actually wise about forgiveness?
Revenge—now that’s much more logical, I think.
Maybe once you've settled the score through revenge, then you can consider forgiveness.
But otherwise? Not really.
If someone hits me with a baseball bat, sure, I might forgive them eventually—but only after I’ve hit them back hard enough that they realize it’s better to just kill me next time than to try anything else.
So, if I were to use a bit of Lincoln-esque resolve and rhetoric here— justice followed by forgiveness? Yes. Forgiveness without justice? Absolutely not.
People often say you need strength to forgive. But honestly, I think someone who just forgives without consequence isn't being strong—they're actually being weak. For instance, imagine if someone comes up behind me and hits me over the head with a ruler. If I just shrug it off and forgive them because I want to be seen as this big, virtuous person—someone like Gandhi—well, that’s one way to look at it. But then, what happens? They don't change. And the very next chance they get, they’re hitting me with that same ruler again. By forgiving them so easily, I haven't shown strength; I've actually just weakened my own position. Instead of, say, making sure they couldn't hold a ruler in the first place—effectively neutralizing the threat—I played the saint, and all I did was invite them to hit me again. I suppose forgiveness can only truly be an act of strength if it's paired with some kind of accountability or penalty. And if that's the case... are we even really talking about forgiveness anymore?
The best way to change the world for the better is by tending to your own garden. One should probably get started as soon as possible. Maybe starting at fifty—well, I suppose I've already passed that mark.
Working in a garden is hard work, though.
Isn't there an easier way?
For instance, just picking fruit from someone else's yard—effectively stealing it.
Or, if someone isn't inclined toward criminal activity, simply buying produce from another's garden.
Then again, one could always just starve.
There is always a choice to be made, I suppose.
But unfortunately, it feels as though there is really only one right path.
In this context, that path is cultivation. But to actually begin cultivating, one first has to truly grow up. I imagine that requires dealing with that initial shock that pushes you out of your comfort zone—because, for me, childhood always felt like a state of total security.
neonhound32 is, quite clearly, a proud member of the gentler sex.
I’d actually suggest that we set the philosophers aside for a moment—maybe we shouldn't dive into any heavy reading before our first meetup—and just focus on getting to know one another instead. Or, if we really want some reading material, perhaps something a bit lighter. Something like Voltaire's *Candide*. That way, you could discuss how the protagonist completely misinterprets Leibniz—and all those other misunderstandings along the way. Or maybe talk about deism. We could even touch on what Eldorado looks like in the story and compare it to your own visions of an ideal society. And then, to wrap things up, there's that final takeaway: the need to tend to our own gardens—and what kind of message that sends to a young man or a true believer. I wonder, though—can a young person truly focus on their own garden? Or is it almost inevitable that a young person will feel this burning, passionate need to change the entire world first, only finding their way to "tending the garden"—becoming a philosopher, I suppose—once they've exhausted themselves trying to fix everything else? Maybe somewhere around age 50. As for me, I'll just be drinking.
Right now, I’m diving into modern philosophy. So, I’ll probably be cramming a lot of Kant—they really shoved him into this specific test— along with Berkeley, Hume, and the rest of those guys.
As far as timing goes, I guess I'm a bit more flexible.
But where would these literary readings actually take place? Like, at a local brewery? Or maybe just out in a park?
And I wonder—would we be talking about evening gatherings, or more of a morning thing, or perhaps late afternoons?
Personally, I think late afternoon or evening works best for me—mornings are always a bit too early for me to get started with anything significant. Though, if there isn't any other way to make this work, I suppose I'll just go along with whatever the majority decides.
So, you've got one person signed up. p.s. Just a heads-up right now—I’ll mostly be pushing books that are on my reading list for my next big exam.