What follows is a draft of my introduction to a collection of essays that I hoped to publish in 2006 -- presumably with minor editorial revisions. I am also hoping to find an editor and new publisher. (I think I have one.)
One way or the other, I WILL publish this collection and make the book available through the major distributors.
I am still struggling against censorship and cybercrime. New Jersey leads the nation in political corruption. Requests for information from Trenton continue to be stonewalled in a slimy ass-covering move by the forces that be in Trenton. "Errors" continue to be inserted in my writings to maximize psychological harm or in an effort to control me.
Maybe things will change with the arrival of Mr. Murphy in the New Jersey Governor's mansion.
Earlier versions of most of the essays gathered here appeared somewhere on the Internet.
The Internet is a strange and powerful new medium for the written word. The reactions to one's thoughts are almost immediate which is not always gratifying. For instance the reaction to my essay entitled "Why I am Not an Ethical Relativist" (which is available in the archives here) was so intense and non-comprehending that it quickly descended to the level of obscene insults.
It seems that nothing is as infuriating to people -- especially young people these days -- as the suggestion that there is such a thing as morality, that there are some things which it is objectively "true" to consider good or evil, that everything is not permissible. Tolerance for dissent and disagreement, for instance, may be one true value judgment. Inconsistently, it is taken for granted by these same people that it is simply "evil" to believe that anything is really good or evil. Relativists are intolerant when it comes to tolerance of absolutist or objectivist theories in ethics. In fact, New Jersey's minions are absolutely intolerant of persons who are adherents of forms of ethical cognitivism.
When I point out that there is a logical problem with such an "absolute" anti-absolutist position people become even more infuriated. In fact, the result of this controversy is often to force the shut down of discussion groups and, much worse, to undermine the free discussion of ideas online as well as in what used to be called "the real world."
Cybercrime, it seems, is only "relatively" wrong for the chi-chi thought police.
At the moment my access to MSN is obstructed -- illegally. My computer is subjected to daily attacks and my cable signal is blocked on a regular basis by persons using N.J. government computers.
I am sure that New Jersey attorneys were involved in censorship efforts against me. I am also confident that this disturbing fact is known to numerous tribunals in many jurisdictions.
I wonder whether the OAE in Trenton can shed some light on the mystery of these state censorship efforts?
When people on the Internet do not have a substantive response in a debate they arrange to sabotage the site of their humiliation. This is somehow supposed to vindicate them for losing the argument in the first place. It is an odd culture that thrives on the net. This culture is New Jersey-like in its fondness for slithering behind-the-back attacks. Even using third parties to deliver emotional harm to a victim is not unknown among such loathsome specimens of humanity.
I wonder whether some of my interlocutors at the "Philosophy Cafe" are still members of the bar or state government in New Jersey? Judges? A U.S. Senator perhaps?
I will find out very soon.
It is certainly shocking to think that lawyers behave with such disregard for the provisions of the U.S. Constitution while judging the conduct of others.
Maybe in New Jersey it is not so shocking.
Since that ugly episode former members of the Cafe have contacted me hoping that I will re-create the group, so that everyone will participate in heated discussions again, perhaps leading to further hostilities and maybe to a homicide or two, not to mention indictments of some of the participants in the chats.
As attractive as I find this possibility I have yet to attempt a new setting for online or offline discussion of philosophical or jurisprudential issues. No doubt, eventually, I certainly will create a new discussion forum.
I have been depressingly industrious and well-behaved now for more than a year, publishing on-line and elsewhere, and hard at work (in my own mind at least) on a novel, a long semi-autobiographical and romantic story, not to mention "blogging," and it dawned on me that it would be fun to put together a collection of my "revised" Internet pieces that have generated the most controversy.
These writings now seem pretty tame to me. By virtue of their lack of political correctness alone it seems that some of my essays irritate humorless and not very bright people.
I hope to offer a new edition of the Paul Ricoeur book; a new essay collection should appear before December of 2006.
In July, 2018 the forces of censorship are still winning in America, ironically, as we criticize the human rights records of other countries -- countries like China or Cuba.
I hope to provide a volume of short stories on classic themes to be published next year as I start on my novel, again, which will be a two- to-ten-year project. This should keep me busy for a while.
I have no idea what will happen to these books, that is, whether they will be read or disseminated against the censorship efforts of powerful politicians and their mafia friends -- I suspect that they will be read -- by a few people at least and for years to come.
I know that I have to write books and make them available to others. Each book will probably have a different publisher and yet all (cross your fingers) should be widely available someday.
The essays which follow differ in tone and mood, some are seriously reflective and more academic pieces, and these pieces were almost universally ignored when they appeared despite what I regard as their greater merits. For instance, "The Galatea Scenario and the Mind/Body Problem" (which can also be found in the archives here) is a pretty serious piece of work.
Other texts are only meant to provoke a response and to get people thinking. A great way to get people thinking is to annoy or amuse them. I am not above doing exactly those things. But then, neither were Socrates, Nietzsche, or Schopenhauer, all of whom often "charmed" readers into agreeing with their views. This is not to mention my grandmother and Woody Allen, both of whom should be recognized as great philosophers.
I have divided the essays in this collection into several thematic groups: thoughts on metaphysical and epistemological issues, usually dealing with mind/body questions and the nature of consciousness, leading to reflections on personal identity; essays dealing with ethical and political controversies, especially defenses of the possible objectivity of ethical judgments and "equity" liberalism or "socially responsible" liberalism in politics; and finally, comments on literature, science and religion followed by an increasing number of texts examining New Jersey's disaster.
I have been called every name in the book and a few that are not in the book. I have been classified -- incorrectly -- as a Libertarian, Republican, Conservative, Communist, Fascist, Democrat, and just about everything else.
I am best classified as a "democratic socialist" with a strong concern to protect civil liberties and the freedom to dissent, especially for writers, all artists and other (allegedly) strange or "weird" persons, such as myself.
I have reached a stage in my life when I simply could not care less what anyone -- except those I love -- thinks, says, or believes about me.
I hope never to join the proverbial "herd of independent minds" on any issue or controversy.
My healthy assumption is that "what matters is not what others think of us but what we think of them." (Gore Vidal)
M.S., are you getting this? All of the lowlifes who have hurt you are much worse human beings than you could ever be.
New Jersey's legal power structure is what I scrape off my shoe after my daily walk in the city.
There is a substantial dose of bullshit in most professions and disciplines -- including law and philosophy -- and there is no product of human effort that cannot be improved.
If this skepticism and irreverence is one result of being fifty-something then it is quite welcome.
These are tendencies that are rarely found in the same person, socialism and eccentric individualism, along with skepticism and hopefulness, not to mention total indifference to insults. For an interesting comparison, see Richard Rorty's essay "Trotsky and the Wild Orchids," in his collection entitled: Philosophy and Social Hope (New York: Penguin, 1999), p. 3. ("Richard Rorty's Ethical Skepticism.")
I often find myself disagreeing with Rorty and admiring the work of the late John Rawls. Professor Rawls was and remains, perhaps, America's finest political philosopher in the second half of the twentieth century.
It may come as a surprise to some who invoke Rorty's name to discover that, in his more recent writings, one senses a lingering fondness on the part of Professor Rorty for the American "religion of hope" (his term) together with an unwillingness to surrender a cheerful optimism about the United States of America even at the worst of times.
I believe that there are good and evil options in life. Moral judgments amount to something more than individual preferences like a taste for strawberry rather than chocolate ice cream. When I come to the conclusion that, for example, "the Holocaust is the great evil of the last century" I am confident that I am saying something that is "true" and not merely expressing my opinion, or a personal preference, or some such nonsense.
Admittedly, not all issues are so crystal clear and it may often be the case that we will not know what is right nor how to go about behaving properly even if we know what "right" may mean. This does not lead me to the conclusion that there is no right answer nor that it is all "relative." It also certainly does not mean that I claim to be morally "superior" to anyone else since one of the best reminders of the reality and independence of morality is the experience of screwing up.
A person who genuinely believes that Nazism was "right for Hitler even if it may be wrong for us" is either insane or evil, perhaps both. ("Why I am not an ethical relativist" and "The Wanderer and His Shadow.")
Identity and the self are fictions or "performances" that all of us offer to others every day as part of the task of living in society.
Such fictions are (by definition) as "unreal" as geographical boundaries or pieces of paper with a value written on them that we choose to regard, for reasons of convenience, as being "worth" something.
Literature and imagination, in my view, are not luxuries; rather, they are essential attributes of human social living, so are fantasy and desire.
We ALL live as much in our imaginations as in the so-called "real world."
Thank goodness for that. Too much reality is unbearable, especially in New Jersey.
We all inhabit stories of one kind or another, scientific or historical stories, religious and/or other myths if we choose to believe in them. Sometimes we are lucky enough to be the co-authors of those stories making use of the symbols and metaphors that we inherit from our ancestors. In thinking about "time and narrative" I am indebted to the work of Paul Ricoeur whose philosophy of "freedom as interpretation" has been the subject of my extended examination and discussion elsewhere. (See the link to my web page and publisher in my blogger profile.)
For Paul Ricoeur, paradoxically, the only way to "keep it real" is to make your life part of a story.
Just make sure that it is your plot and not someone else's story that you are living. This important French philosopher should be read by actors and, maybe, by all artists.
Most of us think about sex more than any other topic. I certainly do. I doubt that this will change any time soon. We are essentially sexual creatures and will continue to be for the foreseeable future. If it did change then I would immediately see my doctor.
But in "paradise" -- if an atheist (or agnostic) can get there -- we will not only have sex all the time, but our sexual encounters will deserve to be called "love-making" and will always be with a person whom we both desire and love, "uniquely," or differently from all others.
And yes, there is such a beloved person -- or more than one in a lifetime if we are very lucky -- for each of us. It is the expectation or hope for such a thing, as a regular experience shared with depressingly few women in my interesting life, and the challenge of writing good sentences that keeps me going.
During the few seconds during the course of the day when I think about something other than sex I ponder the mysteries of the universe, the books that I am reading, and films I wish to see, or such phenomena as Puccini's Turandot -- which is being performed this season at the MET, for example, and which I plan to see from a cheap seat since I happen to love that Opera.
I am going to try to make the journey to Central Park to wait for hours in order to get tickets for Twelfth Night.
At my local public park in Manhattan a group of young actors ("The King's Men") will be performing The Merchant of Venice.
BAM will feature As You Like It, again (I hope) directed by Sam Mendes. I will have to scrounge the money for two tickets.
The "Moose Head Shakespeare Company" is expected to perform one of the comedies after passing the hat around for contributions. They began by asking for contributions after performances, but they received more donations when they asked before their performances.
I write this paragraph during a week when I have been obstructed, prevented from making use of images, harassed, interrupted, denied access to my e-mails, MSN blocked, Internet use obstructed, corrections in essays have been made dozens of times -- a typical week, in other words, which leads me to wonder what is it about me that infuriates New Jersey's mobsters?
Have I brought some unwelcome attention to New Jersey's crooked politics and Cuban-American/Mafia alliance?
I can only hope so.
