This the “most overplayed” of Irish folk songs obviously lends itself to interpretation across genres. There are several very excellent versions but these rate as two of my favorite.
Mishima and Masculinity
This article featured in the “politically incorrect” (whatever the fuck that means) Return Of Kings blog.

An Unpublished Note on Christian Morality
I chanced upon the piece below published in Religious Studies 19 (2):175 – 183.

F. H. Bradley, An Unpublished Note on Christian Morality, Introduced and edited by Gordon Kendal.
At some time between 1907 and 1912, probably very much nearer the earlier date, [1] Bradley produced the first draft of an article on Christian morality. He did this in response to criticism that his moral ideas were anti-Christian. This charge was based mainly on the content of two articles that he published during 1894 in the International Journal of Ethics, one called ‘Some Remarks on Punishment’ and the other ‘The Limits of Individual and National Self-Sacrifice.’ [2] In these Bradley had maintained that the conventional ‘Christian’ belief in the sacredness of life undermined any sensible approach to punishment and any clear understanding of the moral importance of self-assertion (in contrast to self-sacrifice). It encouraged a squeamishness about retribution and ‘social surgery.’ It devalued proper human ends and interests, and the rights and duties founded on them. There was needed ‘a correction of our moral view, and a return to a non-Christian and perhaps a Hellenic ideal,’ [3] one that would recognize the unlimited right of the moral organism (i.e. virtually the state) to dispose of its members and to use force internationally in defence of right. Bradley pulled no punches and had this to say about the self-styled ‘Christian’ party:
If ‘Christianity’ is to mean the taking the Gospels as our rule of life, then we none of us are Christians and, no matter what we say, we all know we ought not to be. If Greek morality was one-sided, that of the New Testament is still more one-sided, for it implies that the development of the individual and the state is worthless. It is not merely that it contemns victory over the forces of nature, that it scorns beauty and despises knowledge, but there is not one of our great moral institutions which it does not ignore or condemn. The rights of property are denied or suspected, the ties of the family are broken, there is no longer any nation or patriotism, and the union of the sexes becomes a second-rate means against sin. Universal love doubtless is a virtue, but tameness and baseness—to turn the cheek to every rascal who smites it, to suffer the robbery of villains and the contumely of the oppressor, to stand by idle when the helpless are violated and the land of one’s birth in its death-struggle, and to leave honour and vengeance and justice to God above—are qualities that deserve some other epithet. The morality of the primitive Christians is that of a religious sect; it is homeless, sexless, and nationless. The morality of today rests on the family, on property, and the nation. Our duty is to be members of the world we are in; to be in the world and not of it was their type of perfection. The moral chasm between us is, in short, as wide as the intellectual; and if it has been politic to ignore this, I doubt if it is politic any longer. We have lived a long time now the professors of a creed which no one consistent-ly can practise, and which, if practised, would be as immoral as it is unreal. [4]
But Bradley still wanted to regard himself as a Christian (indeed as an Anglican: see A. E. Taylor’s obituary article in Mind). [5] His projected article was an attempt to show that nobody really accepts ‘Christian morality’ in the conventional sense: it is incoherent. There must be another sense, and in that sense Bradley counts himself as Christian.
The article was never offered for publication. It appears that he had made a typewritten revision, and he left instructions in 1921 that it be published after his death; but the typescript was lost. In the early 1930s the matter was discussed at length in correspondence between Mrs Marian de Glehn (one of Bradley’s sisters) and Bradley’s younger colleague and fellow-Idealist, H. H. Joachim. The early draft seemed plainly one-sided and not entirely fair to Bradley’s antagonists (whoever precisely they may have been): Mrs de Glehn had no doubt, for example, that Bradley had taken out the sentence about Nonconformists. Some of the reasons for his reluctance to publish it near the time of writing—that it would horrify some good people and embarrass his College—were pertinent still in the 1930s. [6] Moreover, if it were to be included in the Collected Essays it might well distract attention from the rest of that collection. The possibility of a private printing was raised but not pursued; so was the possibility of a discreet rewording here and here. But nothing ultimately was done, and the manuscript has remained since then, largely unread, among the Bradley papers in Merton Library.
It bears a small number of later amendments and insertions, and with it there are three handwritten fragments: two are clearly preparatory to the original draft, while the third (reproduced below) is the rough sketch of a more positive sequel.
I am very grateful to the Warden and Fellows of Merton College for allowing the text to be published. Editorial intrusions have been kept to a minimum. The Note should be read with the two earlier articles mentioned above, with an article of comparable vintage ‘On the Treatment of Sexual Detail in Literature,’ [7] and of course with Ethical Studies. [8] But it can stand on its own. It is a good example of Bradley’s invective. It illustrates his passion for common sense and relevance in morality. It makes plain his conviction of the value of the experienced world: Bradley did not maintain that this world is unreal! It shows him struggling to find a way of delineating a moral authority sufficiently determinate to have a prescriptive bearing upon us, while not so prematurely defined that it stultifies and distorts our moral sense. The Note is an interesting complement of his more theoretical writings. It goes as follows. [9]
[The note begins]
The views expressed in the two foregoing papers have, I believe, been condemned as anti-Christian. They have been even taken to have been inspired by a hatred of Christianity. Now if by Christianity is meant the moral doctrine of the New Testament and of the early Christians, I have certainly urged that this is defective. Viewed as a supreme guide I life I do not hesitate to call it detestable. And, apart from self-deception and hypocrisy, there is no one, if we except a few fanatics, who does not really think as I think. There are of course countless persons who for good or for evil attempt in part to realize the moral idea of the Gospels. But any man in any ordinary social position who, in acts and not in words, tries to follow this teaching thoroughly is at once set down as more or less intellectually and morally insane. And in the sense in which I am said to hate Christianity every honest man knows, or should know, that he does well to hate it. This I take to be indubitable fact and, this being so, here are some questions which are perhaps worth our attention.
Is or is not, I ask first, our moral consciousness to be supreme? Has it a right to judge as to moral good and evil, or has it to listen to some authority external to itself? I insist on an answer to this question, and I have a right to insist, for I address myself here only to those who accept the above supremacy. With those who reject it I am not seeking to argue. And now that we are possibly clear on one question, I will go on to ask another. Suppose that our present moral sense finds that the morality of early Christianity is one-sided—does (or would) that fact show that we are at issue with Christianity? It seems to have been assumed against me that no other alternative is possible, but is not any such assumption false and is it not really even monstrous? If the reader will reflect I am sure that he will find that I have some reason on my side.
I ask him to say in general that a living principle may be superior to its first origin, and I ask him to apply this general truth to Christianity. I ask him to agree that the present Christian mind is autonomous and has a right to judge of its own beginnings. And I beg him to tell me why the early appearance of a principle should not be one-sided and defective. The idea of a spirit which developes itself within the Christian community, if a false idea, is at least not novel. And if there is any reason why this developed spirit should not pronounce on its own history, and if there is any reason why this history should not have started with imperfection, I should be glad to hear, for I do no know what these reasons can be. And when I am told that to identify the moral idea with the morality of the early Christians is to show love for Christianity, while to refuse to do this is hatred, I ask the reader to consider what is involved in such a principle of judgment.
I am going on now, not because I like it, but because I find that I must, to point out some of the many defects of the Gospel morality. There is nothing new to say on the matter, but there are things which apparently are hard to convey. And the difficulty arises, I urge, from the refusal to look at plain and obvious facts. Listen to this utterance: “Every man who . . . taking Christ as his model in all the relations of life.” [10] Reflect on what it means and on the state of mind from which such a saying proceeds. Imagine Jesus of Nazareth plunged into our social and political life, and then take him as a model, no matter what the situation may be. Is it my duty to the State to beget children? Have I any right to refuse to serve as a soldier? Ought I, being a soldier, to volunteer to lead a storming party to take a town by assault? Have I a right to insist on an increase of my salary? Should I under the sheriff serve as a hangman or sit on a jury to try cases of adultery with damages? I need never be in doubt on such questions. I need only betake myself to the words and to the ideal of Jesus of Nazareth. For I suppose that Jesus of Nazareth is what is meant by “Christ.” Is not this monstrous? It is blasphemous, you may reply, but who, I ask, is responsible for the blasphemy? And there is another question I would put to the reader. Is there any man who, in perfect good faith, could speak in this way of taking Jesus everywhere as his model, if he had not lived, as we most of us have lived, in a world full of hypocrisy, a world where on certain subjects we have formed the habit of not saying what we mean and of not meaning what we say? But the result is not merely that we do not know what we mean. There is a worse result still – that we do not mean what we know.
To any one who can see the facts it is obvious that the morality of the Gospels and of the early Christians is the one-sided morality of a mere sect. How could it have been otherwise, and what other morality could have answered the purpose? I am not speaking of the essence and principle of Christianity, and I am not even here asking what that is. I am speaking of how Christianity shows itself in its first imperfect appearance. It in fact was a sect. And that from the morality of such a sect we can learn our duty as citizens in a state and in the world, is, when you consider it, at once ridiculous. But I will venture to point to a few details.
We most of us believe in the moral necessity of private property, and we all of us, save a few fanatics, believe in the moral necessity of some degree of wealth, held at least by the community. Consider on the other side the attitude of Jesus as reported in the Gospels. And yet there are those who will tell you that to acquire wealth is a Christian’s duty to God and to his fellow men and to himself, and that, in carrying out this duty, his master and his model is Jesus of Nazareth. It is the same man perhaps who will give his hypocrisy a deeper dye by condemning the sacred duty of every citizen to serve his country in arms. He will fatten himself like a parasite on an organism without which he would lose all he cares for in life, and he will not blush to invoke the name of one who, whatever else he was, was no hypocrite.
Most of us, I think, still believe in the duty of patriotism. I will go so far as to say that even those who contemn this duty keep, most of them, a place for it in their hearts. One cannot after all forget everything and reach complete baseness in a day. On the other hand where in the Gospels is the patriot applauded or even recognized? How could there be a duty of patriotism where the framework of society was to go and the world itself soon to pass away? The idea is absurd, and the actual fact, to anyone who is not blind to fact, is certain. To profess here to follow Jesus as a model is not possible except to the injury or ruin of one’s own moral honesty.
I will go on to say something on another point where the truth is even more certain to give offence. Let us think of sexual morality, a subject which, whether we like it or not, is becoming more and more a burning question. “Wherewithal,” we have to ask, “shall a young man cleanse his way?” And we shall perhaps agree that, especially when a young man thinks for himself, it is desirable for him to find not only good example but also sound doctrine. But, as things are, unless the young man is specially fortunate, a sound doctrine is precisely that which he is unlikely to find. He meets on the one side the moral code of the man of the world. And this, even if it is not too lax, is at least confused and void of principle and far from inspiring. And on the other side the young man is offered a doctrine of purity which is downright false and immoral, a doctrine which is essentially one-sided and negative. And against this not only do his senses revolt, but his reason and his heart and his whole spirit reject it as monstrous. [11] Is it not an abominable lie that fornication takes the first place among the deadly sins? Do we not all, except a small minority, really know that this is a lie and that to utter it is hypocrisy? No one could deny that the habitual pursuit of a certain pleasure, in abstraction from all that normally should qualify it, is bad, and may be extremely bad, not to say pernicious. But that is not the way in which this matter is put to the young man. Where does his sacred book tell him that both the perfection of his own nature and also his duty to the community call for the proper use of his sexual powers, and that this (to speak in the main) is the reason why any abuse of them is wrong? What he learns from his sacred book is that to remain virgin is the ideal state of man, and that anything else (if I may repeat myself) is “a second-rate means against sin.” And, rejecting this as morally false, the young man is left, to speak in general, without any doctrine to help him in his troubles. He lives in England, and I dare say things are worse in Scotland or Wales, where men hear and say one thing in church and in public and quite another thing outside an in private. And things are worse at the polluted level of “the Nonconformist conscience,” where wholesale treason and robbery and murder weigh like feathers and one adultery like lead.
To pursue this subject in further detail, and to point out how the moral ideal of early Christianity clashes positively and negatively with the real dictates of our conscience, is not my desire. It is a conclusion not to be enforced by argument and illustration so much as to be seen by any man who is willing and is able to open his eyes. And I must be permitted henceforth to take it as obvious. I will go on to ask if our disease admits of any remedy.
I am not with those who seek a remedy in the rejection of Christianity. It is not easy to say, when we accept or reject Christianity, exactly what it is which we reject or accept. The assumption that the Christian principle is to be identified with its defective origin, to myself seems ridiculous. I do not ask here what in its essence this principle is, but I do not think it hard to find a sense in which this principle expresses absolute truth. And the evil which attends any attempt at complete rejection is obvious. My difficulty is not with the principle of Christianity, whether on the theoretical or the practical side. What troubles me is the collision between any decent ethical principle or practice and the moral doctrine and the moral ideal of the sacred books. It is these sacred books which to us, like our fellow sufferers of Islam, threaten, if we cannot subordinate them, to become an intolerable burden.
It is better where the Bible is interpreted by authority, and where the living voice of the Church decides on spiritual truth. The valid interpretation of the holy oracles by every idiot for himself is the price due from Protestantism for whatever merits it possesses. And the price which has bee paid, and which will have to be paid, is heavy. But on the folly and the hypocrisy which disgraces Protestantism enough has been said.* [*Bradley’s footnote: “The Socialists were counted atheists. What was their crime? They desired our political system, our industrial system, and our land system to correspond with the teaching of the Master.” (Keir Hardie, as reported in the Morning Post of Jan 14 1907.) Imagine the industrial and the land systems of Jesus of Nazareth. Think of the blindness and the self-deception involved in the above utterance. The only persons who say these things and really mean them are persons like the Doukhobors. And can there by anything more sickening than this dragging of the name of Jesus into our political disputes?] It is the living Church which has the right to override and to subordinate the one-sidedness of its own beginning. The principle here is clear and is to my mind indubitable. Unfortunately no living Church exists which can be said even approximately to realize our ideal.* [*Bradley’s footnote: I am not suggesting that Christian morality outside of Protestantism is self-consistent. We have only to consider (to take one instance) how the practice of dueling is regarded in some orthodox Roman Catholic circles to see that the opposite is the case.]
And the way of salvation, thus open in principle, seems closed in practice. We are, without regard to any past authority, to develop from within the Christian principle. And, attempting to do this, we are in collision at once with our sacred books. And how is it possible for us to insist openly that, since we are right, these holy books can say only what we mean? On the other side how is it possible for us to disconnect “Christ” as an ideal from the historical Jesus? This disconnection seems to be essential and to be really a matter of life and death for Christianity. And yet, if we attempt it openly, can we hope to succeed?
“No,” I shall be told, “and what you are seeking to do is to force an open door. This separation of Christ from the historical Jesus (if we are to use your misleading phrase) is in great part already done and is still in doing before your eyes. No one, if we are to except a few scholars, reads the Bible as you seem to imagine that it can be read. Every one finds there what he brings with him, and between what he finds and what he brings he cannot distinguish. And, as his ideal developes, so by a beneficent necessity he reads his ideal into his holy books. You may speak of hypocrisy, but things after all are not as simple as you would make them. Nay, have you not yourself said somewhere that ‘Hypocrisy is often the beginning of virtue’? And, as to the historical Jesus, surely you yourself must know what best deserves to be called historical. [12] The true Jesus of history is not the man who once lived and is dead. The true historical reality is the living spirit which makes the history of the Christian church and which for ever projects backward its ideal Christ on the changing clouds of its own progress. The reconstitution of the original Jesus is a task which, partly perhaps because it is not possible, will never cease to attract. But in practice we know that this attempt, eve if it succeeded, would be useless, because we know that this original for us is now actually nothing. The real Jesus is the Christ originated within us whom we transport to a far origin and who meets us in whatever we make of our Scripture—if, that is, we read it with our hearts. If you yourself cannot see this, it is because (forgive us) you are made blind by your own one-sidedness, your own impatience and your own want of living faith in the true Christ. Be of good cheer, for even in the world of politics things are better than you fear. You will yet go to the poll with the successful cry of ‘Universal and compulsory military service in the name of Jesus.’”
I admit the truth of this reply, but I cannot believe that we have here the whole truth. The power of overlaying, of superposing our own ideal on the evidence of documents is great indeed, but this power is not unlimited. And yet we are to continue, every one of us, it appears, to use these documents for ourselves as an infallible guide. The power on the other side of a false ideal presented to us to react on our own ideal no doubt again is limited, but it is not negligible. And we have seen in fact the undeniable existence and the injurious effect in our lives of a double morality with all its confusion and hypocrisy. Your faith may assure you that all will come right in the end, but your faith can tell you nothing about the mean time, and as to how much in the mean time is to be ruined it cannot assure you. If it is true, for instance, that our country has reached a crisis in its history, and if it is true that our country is blinded and weakened by false morality and hypocrisy and cant, then your ideal can afford to wait and we cannot. And yet, so far as I see, you have no remedy but to wait.
And for myself I cannot profess to have a remedy at all. For myself, and for any others whose views I share, to throw off in public the incubus of the holy books would be useless, and to separate ourselves from our religious community would, if anything, be perhaps worse. I never myself have had any personal leaning towards the career of a hotgospeller or schismatic, and if allowed to remain in the church in which I was born, I see no advantage in moving. And being no theologian I am not even aware that any opinion which I hold is heretical. But not to make a noise in public is one thing, and to be altogether silent is another. And, thinking as I think, I cannot believe that I ought wholly to conceal the views which I have expressed. For, though not to myself, yet to others a remedy for our disease may be visible, and at any rate silence may be taken as condonation of that which I am forced to abhor. Hence I offer the above opinions, which, whether they are right or are wrong, belong I might almost say to my life, and, if mistaken, at least are my honest convictions.
(Additional note written separately)
Reluctant to leave the matter so. Is there a sense in which I can accept Christian morality. Yes there is but the question is whether this sense can properly be called Christian? This I cannot answer and I do not see how it is to be answered except more or less arbitrarily. But I can say what it is I accept and in what sense I accept Christian morality.
The principle is that of the positive immanence and realization of the Divine in the Human or rather in the world of finite mind. It is negatively the denial of any good outside of the world of finite mind. It is again the denial of any breach or split in this world. It is positively the assertion of Good as the self-realization of this world as a Whole. And for the individual the self-realization of this so far as it is given him to see it (both in and beyond his own personal existence) and (?) so far as in him lies.
This means Autonomy—no external authority. And it means Autocracy—no internal limit to rights of Whole over constituent members. We are our own Providence.
(1) The individual has no rights—as an individual. His duty to self-sacrifice or self-assertion is the foundation of his rights.
(2) The individual as such has no value—let alone an infinite value. The right and duty of the Whole to dispose of him is in principle unlimited.
Positively the right and duty of self-assertion on the part of the Whole and lesser Wholes and again the individual follows. And of course the use of force where required follows (force as compulsion of others). Immorality of Peace-mongers.
This self-realization is to have no limits. No asceticism—no higher region of any kind which is separate and has more than a relative value.
Hence no denial of right to exist to any class or part of the finite world. Early Christianity asserted this principle though only of all human beings—mainly on a mistaken ground. But we cannot stop there. We cannot exclude what we call the lower animals. We cannot even exclude what we call the inanimate world. There is no downward limit. To treat these things as matters of indifference is not moral.
Nothing is excluded but on the other side all is a matter of degree. There are no equal rights in the human world or outside it. You must sacrifice the welfare of part to whole within that world—and also outside it. It is monstrous to say that for us man has no more right than lower animals or inanimate nature. It is also monstrous to say that these have no right as against him. The covering a hideous world with the greatest possible number of inferior beings so long as they are human is not the end—even for us.
To go into detail is (even if it were possible) not my subject. All I want to assert is the principle. And how far this principle is Christian I must leave it to others to determine.
Notes
- Bradley’s own estimate, in a letter written in 1921, was 1909. The outer limits are set by the date of the quotation from the Morning Post and the date of the later article “On the Treatment of Sexual Detail in Literature.” The two notes keyed by symbols are Bradley’s own.
- Reprinted in Collected Essays (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1935), VII and VIII, pp. 149-76.
- Ibid. p. 149.
- Ibid. pp. 173-4.
- Mind, XXXIV, 133 (January 1925], 1-12, esp. pp. 9-12.
- Mrs de Glehn wrote: “I don’t think he ever quite understood . . . the character and personality of Christ that still emerges out of the confusion, and affects so many in their deepest feeling and lives. It was the difficulty he always had of understanding a very—to him—foreign stand-point—so that he hurt where had no idea or wish to hurt.” The correspondence is with the manuscript in Merton Library, Bradley papers, II. B. 9.
- Collected Essays, pp. 618-27.
- Ethical Studies (Oxford, 1876; second edition 1927).
- Punctuation and spelling has been kept strictly as it is in the manuscript. Ed. [E.g., “developes” – A.F.]
- Contentio Veritatis, p. 86 [1902 “By Six OxfordTutors”: W. R. Inge contributed an article on “The Person of Christ,” to which Bradley refers].
- Cf. Collected Essays, p. 625: “Which is the higher being? Is it the man who strives to empty his mind of all that is sexual, to banish from his life all the beauty and all the romance that, based on sex, carries sex into an idealised world? Is it he who thus leaves his own nature at best vacant and starved, or opened perhaps to the inroad of that which turns it into ‘a cistern for foul toads to knot and gender in’? Such a question surely cannot be answered in the affirmative.”
- Cf. Bradley’s “The Presuppositions of Critical History,” Collected Essays, pp. 1-70.
Stranger: Bernie Worrell on Earth
Alongside Booker and Martha Argerich, Bernie (“The Wizard of Woo”) is my favourite keyboard genius. I’ve been wanting to see this documentary for some time and am pleased that someone has made it available — at least for the time being. Like Booker, an absolutely authentic character and the most synesthesiac musician I can think of.
The Failed Programme of Analytical Philosophy
Wayne Cristaudo in The European Legacy.

Walker Percy Wednesday 145
WHY DO SCIENTISTS DISLIKE what is apparently the case, that Homo sapiens appeared very recently and very suddenly, in a few hundred thousand years more or less of the Late Pleistocene, perhaps even less—in a word, in less time, cosmologically speaking, than it takes to tell the Biblical story of creation; that the peculiar characteristics of man, the explosive growth of the cortex and 60 percent increase in brain volume, emergence of language, consciousness, self, art, religion, science, occurred in cosmic time in the wink of an eye; that though it is Darwin, not Wallace, who gets the credit for the theory of evolution, it was Wallace, not Darwin, who seems to be right in saying that all men, even the most primitive, come fully equipped with the same neo-cortex and that all men have made the same unprecedented crossover into language and culture; that the brain of the most “primitive” man is not discernibly different from the brain of Beethoven and therefore cannot be accounted for by Darwin’s theory of the gradual adaptation of a species to its environment by the natural selection of those traits which best equip it for survival?
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Darwin was right about the fact of evolution, and his contribution was unprecedented. Evolution is not a theory but a fact. For a fact, the dinosaurs were here 75 million years ago and were supplanted by mammals. For a fact, man arose from more primitive hominids.
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Sir Fred Hoyle suggests the bacteria might have arrived through encounters with the tails of comets. As fanciful as such notions are, they seem to these scientists less inadequate than the current evolutionary theory.
Difficulties arise when triadic creatures (scientists) try to explain evolution through exclusively dyadic events. Neo-Darwinian theory has trouble accounting for the strange, sudden, and belated appearance of man, the conscious self which speaks, lies, deceives itself, and also tells the truth. It gives an admirable account of the variations in the beaks of Galapagos finches, but what does it have to say about Darwin himself, sitting by his fireside in Kent and hitting on a theory which assigns all of life into a sphere of interaction and immanence while covertly elevating himself into the sphere of transcendence, and worrying about whether he or Wallace was going to publish first?The current heated controversy between evolutionists and “scientific creationists” is one of the most peculiar in the history of science, peculiar in the way in which dogma is concealed and smuggled in by both sides.
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As unsatisfactory as the battle lines, as presently drawn, may be, one must nevertheless throw in with the modern evolutionist, if only for the reason that his position, if wrong, is in the end self-correcting, whereas that of the scientific creationist is not.
The battle is, in fact, a marvelous waste of energy.
The Christians need not have got in such a sweat. The evolutionary facts about the emergence of man, e.g., the sudden appearance of Homo sapiens sapiens (Cro-Magnon man) no more than 35 thousand years ago, are as spectacular as the account in Genesis and allow hardly less room for theology.
Scientists should be less worried about overt intrusions by religion upon science, which never succeed, and more worried about covert scientific dogma, e.g., that we triadic scientists require that only dyadic events be admissible to scientific theory. For example, scientists have never seriously addressed themselves to the phenomenon of language, considered as a natural phenomenon and not as a formal structure, that salient triadic property of man. It is only when science is willing to focus on what Sebeok calls “the intersection of nature and culture” that the full import of man’s emergence in the evolutionary scheme can be calculated.

The Neurodiversity Case for Free Speech
Fabulous article, beautifully written. Geoffrey Miller in Quillette.
Here’s the problem. America’s informal ‘speech norms’, which govern what we’re allowed to say and what we’re not, were created and imposed by ‘normal’ brains, for ‘normal’ brains to obey and enforce. Formal speech codes at American universities were also written by and for the ‘neurotypical’

Nicholas Rescher
A belated birthday greeting to Nick still going strong at eighty-nine. Nick is one of the most prolific, wide-ranging, insightful, eclectic and kindest philosophers I have known. See Michele Marsonet’s Internet Enclyclopedia of Philosophy entry for Nick.

Taking the Super out of the Supernatural (or a Manifesto for a Latter-Day Pantheism).
Excerpt from a symposium on Loyal Rue’s Religion Is Not About God. Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science.
There’s something horribly plausible about Ralph’s arguments, religion arising out of man’s unique awareness of his own mortality. . . . In fact—when you think about it in this light—the story of Original Sin in Genesis could easily be a myth about the advent of self-consciousness in evolutionary history. Homo sapiens, by virtue of his sudden surge in brain-power, apprehends his own mortality, and is so appalled by the discovery that he makes up a story . . . a story about having offended some power greater than himself, who punished him with death for his transgression—and in later elaborations of the story, offered him a second chance of immortality. . . . In the myth, the forbidden tree is the tree of knowledge. . . . But perhaps in reality the knowledge was of death, and all the existential angst it brought in its train. The fall of man was a fall into self-consciousness, and God a compensatory fiction. (Lodge 2001, 107–8)
The existential angst that is a by-product of consciousness is as good a characterization of the human condition as one will find. Consciousness, one might say, is an encounter with eternity. With this angst comes epistemological and metaphysical musings about humankind’s place in the larger scheme of things. Epistemologically, humans as naturally disposed cause-seeking creatures hypostasize all manner of beliefs where explanation of a long as they enhance survival: “Religious traditions work like the bow of a violin, playing upon the strings of human nature to produce harmonious relations between individuals and their social and physical environments” (p. 1). Put another way, “religious traditions are primarily about manipulating aspects of our universal human nature for the sake of achieving the twin teloi of personal wholeness and social coherence, thereby to maximize the odds favoring human reproductive fitness” (p. 122). Hence, for Rue there is unquestionably an evolutionary story to be told about religion. Religion as an essentially adaptive cognitive phenomenon functional to the evolutionary impulse, is the presupposition that underwrites the explanatory dimension to Rue’s project. In this sense, Rue takes the super out of the supernatural and is what he means when he declares religion to be not about God but about us.
Rue writes that “there is much to be said for the thesis that all theological formulations are dubious for the simple reason that God is inscrutable” (p. 3). Epistemologically speaking, the concept of God does not achieve enough clarity and distinctness to be discussable. When we cite the divine attributes—omniscience, omnipotence, and so on—I do not think we have the least purchase on these ideas, which generate antinomies almost immediately. Such antinomies might well be what feed our conceptual alienation from the natural world, of which we are a part.
A standard objection to scientific inquiry into religion is that whatever scientific benefits accrue, humankind’s imaginative or religious sensibility will be correspondingly impoverished. Rue argues that notions of humility, awe, and delight are not necessarily alien to a scientific sensibility. Indeed, a naturalized religion will generate a new sense of mystery and awe, the object being Mother Nature (p. 17). I thus take Rue to be offering a deflationist metaphysic—that is, he considers the postulation of God to be redundant. Identification of the natural world and scientific method with a unity that may or may not be divine brings into focus some of the issues in the relationship between religion and science, which is known for generating more heat than light. It was with some apprehension, therefore, that I approached the so-called religion-science literature. It became apparent to me that this literature marks a deep philosophical question that in essence revolves around whether or not science is explanatorily closed. This question has a great deal of resonance within the philosophy of mind, my primary area of research. How are epiphenomenal phenomena—mental causation, intentionality, or consciousness—to be reconciled with physicalism? In philosophy of mind parlance, this debate is termed the “explanatory gap.”
Rue’s Feuerbachian slogan that religion is not about God but about us will no doubt alienate many who would be conceptually and perhaps emotionally bereft of the notion of the supernatural. So, before we examine Rue’s positive proposals, it will be useful to say what Rue is not doing. (Rue terms them disclaimers.)
1. Rue is not in the business of proving or disproving the epistemological and ontological claims of the various religious traditions. As a theorist guided by a strict scientific sensibility he can address only that which is open to falsification (pp. 316–18).
2. Rue has no axe to grind with a religious sensibility, the corollary in light of (1) being that neither is Rue an apologist for religion.
3. Rue’s environmentalism cuts across the Left-Right ideological spectrum (p. 355). Environmentalism certainly can be classed as a political ideology. Indeed, it offers no less than a substantive theory of the human good (p. 363).
The ground for any intellectual reconciliation between science and religion is the acknowledgment that there is an evolutionary story to be told about the rise of religion, a story that congeals around three inextricably linked theses:
A. There is such a thing as human nature, a nature whose outline sharpens through the lens of evolutionary theory.
B. Religious traditions are best understood as nurturing cognitive and emotional systems, conduits to personal and social well-being (hence the book’s subtitle “How spiritual traditions nurture our biological nature and what to expect when they fail”).
C. Because religion has lost the intellectual credibility and moral relevance that it once commanded, it is no longer able to attend to B, with the consequence that humanity, behaviorally adrift, has set the conditions for global environmental catastrophe.
Items A and B constitute Rue’s naturalistic explanation. Item C, as already indicated, constitutes Rue’s diagnosis. A diagnosis presupposes a remedy, but for some reason Rue defers an extended discussion to the end of his book.
What does Rue’s conciliatory overture mean? Where on the religion-science axis can we locate him? To answer this question is to work through the details of his position. His conciliatory steps take place against a background that typically has considered religion and science as incongruent, a fault line that gets definition partly through an ahistorical approach to the study of science and philosophy. I offer a brief and highly selective historical outline. We have the Romantics’ rejection of the notions of progress and rationality embodied in the universalizing tendencies of the scientific revolution and the Enlightenment. With the rise of postmodernism in the twentieth century, the leitmotif was again the rejection of objective truth and scientific rationality. Mid-century saw the two-cultures debate and the mid-1990s the debate ignited by the Sokal hoax. Currently, there is a debate between Intelligent Design theorists and the scientific establishment. Against this broad background, Ian Barbour’s fourfold religion-science categorization structures Rue’s discussion (Rue 2005, 319–24). Barbour’s classification, which I reconstruct via Rue, is as follows:
1. Conflict—profoundly different evidential requirements
2. Independence—modal incompatibility
3. Dialogue—there are metaphysical touchstones of shared interest
4. Integration i. scientific order is evidence of a creator ii. science offers resources to reconstruct extant myths iii. science and value achieve a synthesis in a metaphysic
Barbour’s classification is, I believe, pretty exhaustive, but I want to supplement it by emphasizing the morphological possibilities more, a conceptual leakage that would inform the unity Rue is positing: (a) religion as a “form of life” has prioricity; (b) scientific success underwrites its epistemological monopoly; (c) religion is sui generis; (d) science is sui generis; (e) religion and science are conversable.
Note that (b), (c) and (d) are not necessarily conceptually hostile to the religious viewpoint, and (a) is not necessarily conceptually hostile to the scientific viewpoint. For Rue, mythic traditions can foster attitudes toward the natural world in ways that are beneficial to the advancement of science (p. 322) and the corollary “science qua science presents no obstacle to theistic belief ” (pp. 316–17). If by scientism we mean a dilettantish engagement with science, an uncritical ebullience, for Rue scientism is inherently imperialistic—this would constitute a vulgar reading of (b). The conversability of (e) only acknowledges the de facto existence of different idioms of apprehending truth claims, idioms that may or may not agree. It certainly is not being suggested that they should agree given that each idiom has the inherent tendency toward superbia.
However one carves up the religion-science possibilities, many theorists have carelessly generated epistemological infelicities—disjunctions of irrelevance that cannot and should not be resolved within the sociopolitical sphere. This position is not to be taken as approximating Stephen Jay Gould’s widely cited modal view of science and religion as “non-overlapping magisteria” (Rue 2005, 320–21).
Because of Rue’s naturalistic credentials, he has to reject the hermeneutic contention that religious phenomena are culturally specific (p. 5). A diversity of myths may have democratic appeal, but religious pluralism is socially destabilizing (p. 325). No doubt many will take this as a provocation, but Rue is just making the sociological point that the preconditions to social peace tend to be conceptually tied to a culturally homogenized phenomenon is not forthcoming. The religious imagination is preeminent in its ability to consider things not immediately present to the senses and things that do not have a correlate in reality. Metaphysically speaking, philosophical, religious, and scientific thinking has sought to understand the relationship between the material and the nonmaterial (mind or soul). The philosophical, religious, and scientific are all in some sense refracted through the Gordian knot that is consciousness. For some this puzzle, pregnant with meaning, informs a religious or transcendentalist sensibility in that our senses of self and value are intimately tied up with consciousness. For others, a naturalized study of religious phenomena is a study of some important aspect of cognition and is derivative of the larger project of explaining consciousness. For both groups, the final frontier is not deep space but the perplexing universe bounded by our cranium.
Given that evolutionary accounts of consciousness are now legion and that notions such as the “God gene” have of late entered popular discourse, what is distinctive about Loyal Rue’s Religion Is Not About God (2005)? Rue offers a discussion that is as much a sociopolitical diagnostic as it is a scientific explanation; indeed, these are inextricably linked. It is a diagnostic in the sense that humanity is living under an ecological sword of Damocles. The prospect of global environmental catastrophe is tied to an unrelenting danse macabre of wants and satisfactions characteristic of the prevailing consumerist culture. Because environmental problems are for the most part self-inflicted, it stands to reason that the resources to address the problem lie with us as well. Any solution that forestalls or ameliorates global warming and related environmental problems lies with humanity, and this requires a life-affirming religious sensibility to be in tune with scientific insight. Rue’s recommendation therefore requires that the diverse mythic traditions converge on one, if not new, perhaps dormant, myth—a myth that is ecocentric and consonant with natural reality, a pantheistic religious naturalism that has nature as the sacred object of humanity’s ultimate concern (Rue 2005, 366).
To achieve this goal one has to appreciate the evolutionary development of religion. This explanatory dimension to Rue’s discussion is embodied in his proposals for a general naturalistic theory of religion, which lays bare the structural and functional features of religious phenomena as the critical first step on the road to a badly needed intellectual realignment. Such a realignment would facilitate a global response to a global problem—the environmental imperative. For Rue, the intellectual reconciliation between science and religion turns on the perceived plausibility of a given myth’s root metaphor. Science is in the business of plausibility; the seeds of this plausibility may already have been assimilated, to a greater or lesser extent, by some societies (p. 318). Religious traditions maintain plausibility so society. Whatever diverse “adaptive meanings” there are have been underwritten by natural selection. Rue subscribes to a brand of materialism that accepts the notion of the unity of science, even if the relevant bridging laws are currently unknown. The unity of science that he is proposing is not the ebullient positivistic version of seventy years ago in which reduction entailed reduction to physics. For Rue, the absence of such laws does not undermine the generality of scientific materialism; the various domains of science (physics, biophysics, psychology, sociology) offer fully valid levels of description, each running on different methodologies (p. 39). Whatever behavior might be, it is ontologically dependent on some biological materiality (p. 29). Taking inspiration from E. O. Wilson’s Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge (1998), Rue terms this brand of materialism consilient scientific materialism (2005, 14). Because all epistemological and ontological domains jointly and severally constitute an all-encompassing domain, call it Mother Nature, they are in principle part of a metaphysical unity. Rue’s monistic (materialist) or scientific pantheism is the conceptual solvent to the religion-science polarity. Clearly he does not subscribe to a reductive physicalism, a materialism that eliminates or discounts emergent nonphysical properties found at a high levels of description. Insofar as psychological phenomena are concerned, it would seem that Rue’s materialism would have to be a claim for supervenience—the idea, roughly speaking, that causal efficacy and explanatory relevance of mental phenomena are transmitted across levels of description, the mental being supervenient upon the physical.

Extremely flammable, please create with care
This is, without doubt, the best Canuck tipple that I’ve had. It may well be the best vodka I’ve ever had. I can’t imagine a serious mixologist not having this as the essential base for mixing vodka-based classics or as the ideal canvas against which to create some new cocktails. Just a smidgeon warms the cockles of the heart but beware: smooth as this is, you don’t want to pickle your innards. If a bottle of Scotch at 40% or 43% abv can power a car (yes, I’ve done this), then can you can imagine what Elixir could do. For some more info on the long overdue Liquor Law Reform in Canada see here. And who better than W. C. Fields for amusing alcohol jokes: “Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snakebite and furthermore always carry a small snake”.

