Is the universe conscious?

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Is the universe conscious?

Is the universe conscious?

It’s a question as old as time, and often debated, but is the universe conscious? It depends on how you look at it. Through a materialist lens, the answer is no, the universe is made up of things, objects, some of which may be conscious and others not. Living things have an ever-increasing capacity for self-awareness, depending upon their complexity, an earthworm not so much, a human being a whole lot more. In this model of the universe, non-living matter has no capacity for awareness. In the grand tradition of Socratic mystics everywhere I like to undermine materialist arguments by

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Mystic Nihilism, Reincarnation in Materialist Form – Part 2

Mystic Nihilism, Reincarnation in Materialist Form – Part 2

Infinity and nothing are very closely linked. There’s something very strange about ‘nothing,’ because we can conceptualise it and not experience it. It’s impossible to have an experience of ‘nothing’ in this universe which is made up of things, everywhere you look ‘nothing,’ does not exist! Likewise, there’s something very strange about infinity, and that’s because infinity can also be conceptualised but not experienced. Science tells us every day that the universe is not only made up of finite things but is itself finite. We can be reasonably sure of how big it is, but despite its vast size, it

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Cathars or Western Buddhists?

Cathars or Western Buddhists?

In the wake of a thrilling conversation with my good friend and collaborator on this site (Epicurus of Albion) the other day I decided to dive deep into the mystical interpretations of the life of Jesus with the idea that it might make a good article. This is not that article, but along the way, I rediscovered the fascinating world of the now-extinct Cathars and the interesting parallels that their beliefs have with Buddhist teachings/philosophy. I don’t tend to write explicitly about religion on this site for the simple reason that the focus of theology tends to be the correct

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Meaning, not happiness…

Meaning, not happiness…

By all accounts Albert Camus was a very happy man, he lived the high life, enjoyed outrageous parties, having a taste for fun and shared the company of many girlfriends.  He was evidently a very sophisticated man, that enjoyed all of the pleasures that life would afford him. Albert Camus spent his life searching for meaning, and being unable to find any, never gave up. The act of seeking is a virtuous act, whilst action with virtue is a good thing because it leads to the development of a better character, a fact that was not wasted upon Aristotle (a

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Hieraclitus, an argument for Dualism

Hieraclitus, an argument for Dualism

Heraclitus was a Greek philosopher who lived between 535 BC and 465 BC, most famous for his ethical fragments and his doctrine that change was not only central to the experience of living but that the entire universe was constantly in change. “Nothing endures but change,” Heraclitus He’s oft-quoted as having said that: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man. Heraclitus Which brings me onto an interesting aspect of mind that we all share. Put simply we can sit by the riverbank and watch the water

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Hierocles and The Cosmopolitan Ideal in the Ancient World.

Hierocles and The Cosmopolitan Ideal in the Ancient World.

The origins of cosmopolitanism can be traced all of the way back to the 4th Century BC, to the then much loved (as indeed he still is today) Diogenes of Sinope, who having been forced into exile from his home city of Sinope moved to Athens to live the simple lifestyle of an ascetic, sleeping in a cracked pot in the marketplace and begging for food. The exploits of Diogenes are manifold and legendarily famous, he turned philosophy into a performance-art, demonstrating his values through deeds not just words, becoming a hugely popular and much-loved figure in and around Athens.

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The Boy With No Brain…

The Boy With No Brain…

Dear Lord Justice Kendal, my name is William Anderson. My friends call me ‘Billy’ or sometimes ‘Willy’ depending on their moods, older people mostly call me ‘Bill’. I also have a variety of ‘nicknames’ dished out by my friends, most of which wouldn’t be wise to reveal to you. I clearly understand what is appropriate despite being labelled by the media as the ‘Boy with no brain’. I am not thick! Indeed I’ve done well in school. Though apparently, I might have my certificates revoked due to the flawed perception my teachers and examiners have of me. They claim that

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The Existence And Essence Of The Galloping Horses – A Praxis Approach

The Existence And Essence Of The Galloping Horses – A Praxis Approach

I really think this is true, namely, If you can apply the tools of philosophy to make sense of the everyday waking world we all inhabit then it becomes a useful practical utility under your belt because you’re involved in interacting with the world in a philosophical way. Those abstract concepts that are able to be put into practise (praxis)  towards the world as opposed to just being purely abstract concepts entertained by the armchair philosopher enables philosophy to enrich your life. The notions of existence and essence are able to be put into practise, to give these notions substance I’ll have to lead by

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What is Existence & Essence?

What is Existence & Essence?

  Existence and essence, ah that philosophical duality opposed daggers drawn and yet despite the antagonism they need each other in order to be. Though, If I were to hazard a guess in separating these philosophical twins I will say this, if we negate existence and are then left with essence, then the outcome that we have is called fiction. Which is why stories and events that have not existed in reality are confined to the fiction section of a bookstore. but I digress. I go on to define existence and essence and discuss the differences between the two:   Existence refers to the state of something which is extant now,

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Little Blue Men

Little Blue Men

Derek started the truck, it’s electric engines powered up with a gentle whine, as the headlamps came on, illuminating the courtyard fence. He hated starting early, it was something about the eerily large eyes of the Little Blue Men, glistening in the dark, black as tar, but reflective nonetheless, almost too large for their child-sized skulls… The Boss was ‘the Boss,’ for a reason, whatever the old man said, had to be done. It was Derek’s turn to get out of bed and do the early shift, he daren’t give the fat, old, bastard any excuse to replace him with

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