bits and pieces
A new young man, Matt, sixteen, has come under my foster care, at a slightly difficult time as it’s the school holidays and so he has a lot of time on his hands. Suggestions have been made about activities, apart from going to the movies together (expensive, my finances are at their lowest ebb in months). they include helping him to get his bike fixed so we can go for a ride together, perhaps even to the beach, and a trip to the Port where they have boat trips for dolphin-spotting, quite inexpensive unless you include the lunches on offer. Energy levels low as the temperature rises.
A review of Theodore Drange’s book, Nonbelief and Evil: two arguments for the non-existence of God,
points out that the academic philosophers who have devoted much of their effort to opposing theism have been relatively few – fewer than those on the other side. Never will be able to work out why that is, haven’t we got all the good arguments? These heroes are mentioned, so I can seek them out: Michael Martin, Richard Gale, Paul Kurtz, Kai Nielsen and J L Mackie. I’ve read and have a high regard for Mackie’s work on ethics, but the others are unknown to me. I should also mention William Rowe, interviewed in Philosophy Now, issue 47. Kurtz has edited a book, Science and religion: are they compatible?, which’ll be one to watch out for.
I’ve just been reminded that the lad’s name’s Mat, so-spelt.
On the home front, blue day, not enough steps, acted as dogsbody but did receive some pay, prepared the lawn for Christmas Eve, to be spent with someone else’s family, though Rachel and family sent me a separate card, which was promising (and undeserved since I never send cards myself), also socialised with two women still keen to be a part of our co-op, keep forgetting the co-op, getting way behind with things, recently asked by a stranger about my grandkid when I was with Courtney, so there, I look old, might as well let it go, the battle of the bulge, battle against ageing, though must admit the exercising and stepping out, when I do it, fills me with a prideful energy, funny how that comfort you have in your body, in your skin, which you realise with exhilaration, maybe about twenty, a sort of coming into the age of invincibility, it doesn’t last, it slowly ebbs, though the realisation that it’s gone, that comfort, might come quick, or not, as the case may be.
It’s unusual for me these days to finish a book, but the one I finished recently was longish, by Alan Moorehead, and called The road to Tunis. Started reading it at Victor Harbour, that fateful holiday. Picked it up because Moorehead’s The Blue Nile was such a ripsnorter, his writing style fluid, detailed, immediate and unflashy. Page-turning. The road to Tunis recounts the allied campaign in North Africa between 1941 and 1943, when the Germans and their allies were finally kicked off the continent
A review of Theodore Drange’s book, Nonbelief and Evil: two arguments for the non-existence of God,
points out that the academic philosophers who have devoted much of their effort to opposing theism have been relatively few – fewer than those on the other side. Never will be able to work out why that is, haven’t we got all the good arguments? These heroes are mentioned, so I can seek them out: Michael Martin, Richard Gale, Paul Kurtz, Kai Nielsen and J L Mackie. I’ve read and have a high regard for Mackie’s work on ethics, but the others are unknown to me. I should also mention William Rowe, interviewed in Philosophy Now, issue 47. Kurtz has edited a book, Science and religion: are they compatible?, which’ll be one to watch out for.
I’ve just been reminded that the lad’s name’s Mat, so-spelt.
On the home front, blue day, not enough steps, acted as dogsbody but did receive some pay, prepared the lawn for Christmas Eve, to be spent with someone else’s family, though Rachel and family sent me a separate card, which was promising (and undeserved since I never send cards myself), also socialised with two women still keen to be a part of our co-op, keep forgetting the co-op, getting way behind with things, recently asked by a stranger about my grandkid when I was with Courtney, so there, I look old, might as well let it go, the battle of the bulge, battle against ageing, though must admit the exercising and stepping out, when I do it, fills me with a prideful energy, funny how that comfort you have in your body, in your skin, which you realise with exhilaration, maybe about twenty, a sort of coming into the age of invincibility, it doesn’t last, it slowly ebbs, though the realisation that it’s gone, that comfort, might come quick, or not, as the case may be.
It’s unusual for me these days to finish a book, but the one I finished recently was longish, by Alan Moorehead, and called The road to Tunis. Started reading it at Victor Harbour, that fateful holiday. Picked it up because Moorehead’s The Blue Nile was such a ripsnorter, his writing style fluid, detailed, immediate and unflashy. Page-turning. The road to Tunis recounts the allied campaign in North Africa between 1941 and 1943, when the Germans and their allies were finally kicked off the continent
posted by Stewart at 9:20 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home