“Chicken or the Egg?” is the most famous philosophical question that had fascinated and puzzled of the greatest geniuses, scientists, professors, and even philosophers. Why? Because people or any other individuals can’t seems to find the accurate answer that is related to this question. Plethora of individuals tried to answer with false or irrational reasoning such as “God made them, so the chicken came first” or some sort.

If I’d to debate about this certain question then i’ll answer the chicken came first before the egg, why? Because there’ll be no egg when there’s no organic being to produce it. Perhaps now you would ask where is the evidence to support my assumption, this evidence is from the dinosaur where you’d see evolution revolving around them just to adapt to their environment. In particular, lets say that there’s a T-Rex which is entering a moist yet wet environment but later on it will be flooded with water, so the T-Res must adapt to their environment by evolving into a new kind of dinosaur which had the characteristic of a fish like fins and so forth.

There’re two possibilities who came of their existence and that’s “Da Chicken” which was stated above (not the picture) and “Da Egg”. Lets assume that the egg came first then the question is where did that egg came from? Was it from another animal? If so, how can a chicken egg come from another animal? Since the genetic coding is different. Supposed that you’re having the idea of “The Sims” where the egg would instantly spawn in front of you but that’s just not logical right?

Perhaps scientists have an alternative point of view where they’d say that it was the egg came first because a living organism inside the eggshell would have evolved into what is known as a chicken before it hatched,since DNA can only be modified before birth, so in other words evolution inside the egg.

Probably right now your asking who started this question? Well, it was found that the ancient philosopher created the question about the first chicken or egg also evoked the questions of how life and the universe in general began.

Image by Hubpages

Religion was involved in this question by stating that “God” made everything from the subatomic-level to the universe. There’ll be a contradiction between religion and science when their are discussing about metaphysical question.

For some point, the Bible says that the chicken come first then the egg but how does the chicken reproduce since they’re no mate to copulate with, so it would cease to exist in which case where the chicken extinct.

~Your Personal Opinion~

As referenced in my last entry, I’ve been thinking lately about renewal.

This year, I’ve experienced what I’d term renewal in several areas of my life. It has meant a return of optimism. It has meant a fresh bubbling of hope. It has meant leaving behind difficult, painful past experiences and reaching forward to new pursuits and friendships.

For me, renewal looks like this in real life. I spent two years, from summer 2006 to summer 2008, in Germany. A barrage of experiences created a wealth of memories. My mind needs only a tiny trigger to trip the hammer and fire off a blast of images, emotions, laughter, and tears. When I moved to the States and began a challenging new job last fall, I did not realize what tempest still raged inside me. For months, I cried frequently and experienced an ache and longing I’d never felt before. I longed to go back, but I knew it was not the place for me any longer. I missed the places, the language, the missionary culture. Most of all, I missed the people. Seeing a group photo of my dorm girls, much less watching one of the year-end videos my coworkers produced, could instantly prompt a fit of weeping. Part of my heart was ripped out, savagely, and the wound continued to throb and fester for a long time.

Because my departure and transition to the States was so emotional, I neglected to fully recognize what had happened. I saw only its immediate effects, like a trauma victim who is dazed, feeling only pain and seeing blurry images. Now, after many months of healing, I can look back and see the experience more clearly. I can see that I invested a lot at Black Forest Academy; very slowly, sometimes unintentionally, and then deliberately. I loved many of my dorm girls and coworkers to a great depth; I embraced them as family. No wonder, after such investment of myself, it devastated me to leave.

“Devastated” is a good word for how I felt. Although I knew life would go on, I had a hard time picturing a community or a job as fulfilling as those I found at BFA.

But after devastation came renewal. As I look backward now, not from any great height or spiritual vantage point, but still, as a more stable person, I see that God began the process as soon as I reentered the States. As I nursed my wounds and cried my tears, He began to surround me with a community of friends and family here. As I complained to Him that no one here understood what I’d been through, He showed me that there were plenty of people willing to listen to my stories. As I stumbled through the first few months and struggled in my first year of teaching, I often felt cynicism creeping close. I experienced hardship. It was difficult to see that things were getting better – but they were. I was adjusting. God was renewing me.

This fall, I’ve recognized the renewing work and seen it come to near fruition. My second year of teaching is wonderful: I love it. I’ve recently moved out on my own, with a dear friend as a roommate, and am loving the settled feeling it brings. I look around and see people to love, a community to belong to and invest in, and new opportunities to pursue. I don’t know what the future holds, or even what is around the immediate bend in the road, but I know this: that my God is a God of renewal. Restoration. Rebirth. Re-creation. He has healed wounds I once thought irreparable. He has restored hope where it was dead. He has melted away cynicism and replaced it with trust in His abundance.

I had a horrible day yesterday. Bleh.

First of all, I really did not enjoy our seminar in the morning. It’s precisely the kind of philosophy that annoys me, the kind that makes me want to scream, “It’s not a problem!” I mean, really, do they think that when philosophers have finally figured out what ‘reference’ entails or what knowledge really is, that there’ll be a parade?! My apologies, I’ve just heard that we’ll be right on after the guys who cured cancer.

I have nothing against epistemology, or metaphilosophy, whatever. They’re good for keeping the logic muscles toned, keeping the old gears lubricated. But don’t let’s pretend that these are real problems or that their solution will herald A New Era. It’s like people who calculate pi to Dis knows how many decimal places. Not important in the least. Fun, and no doubt an excellent way to keep in mathematical shape, but I don’t think you’ll make the front cover of Circles Monthly for it. Well, maybe Circles Monthly.

I lament that I didn’t speak up sooner and get on the ethics module (it clashes with one of my other modules, something that might have been avoided if I had expressed an interest earlier). Ethics is real philosophy, because it is the philosophy of real things. And although I hate the methodologies of political philosophy, and don’t recommend taking politics too seriously when it’s being stupid about things, at least pol-phil can make some sort of a difference. There are areas of philosophy of mind that can be helpful too.

One of Birmingham’s philosophers, Lisa Bortolotti, does a lot of work in psychology and with psychologists/psychiatrists, and recently published a book about delusions. This is important. Right now, a new DSM is being prepared. This is one of two internationally recognised diagnostic manuals for psychology (along with the ICD). I cannot exaggerate the importance of this document. We’re on the DSM-IV right now, and it was only one edition previously that listed homosexuality as a deviant practice, to be treated as a mental disorder. So work on delusions is exceptionally important. I’m not saying that this will be the time that religious faith is added as one officially (we’ll hold out for DSM-VI for that, muahahaha), but it’s important to get these definitions correct, and sometimes you need philosophers to do that. In fact, anyone who tries to define things like ‘delusion’ are going to have to do philosophy.

Even my pet area, the philosophy of consciousness, can have an impact. It won’t affect the way people live their lives, but if we can solve the mind-body problem, if we can finally explain the existence of the one thing we experience directly, the one thing that we know to exist, then we’ll have made some form of Progress. And we might have come up with a new ontology along the way that will help us explain other things.

I’m far less able to suspend disbelief than most of my peers. They all swallow this nonsense with silent WhatTheFuck, if any at all. Indeed, mine has been silent up until now, because I don’t care to express this to them directly. I don’t fit in with them, in all honestly, the metaphorical chemistry isn’t right. I get on with the Latin crowd far better.

You see, with two known exceptions, I’m doing better at the Latin than most of the others. This means that I don’t feel intimidated by them. They’re all more intelligent than me in areas such as antiquities, English language and so on, of course, but these aren’t areas that I have a stake in, so I don’t feel threatened by their superiority. Also, they’re all quite nice. Philosophy students tend to be quite obnoxious. Yes, I, Luke, consider some people obnoxious. That should tell you something. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the secret tacit understanding shared by them all that we don’t really know why we bother doing what we do in a world that wouldn’t notice if we were gone. Maybe the only thing that makes us feel better about that is to cultivate an environment of dog-eat-dog sneering and snobbiness. I will say, however, that if my Birmingham experience so far is anything to go by, this seems to disappear when one actually works as a philosopher. The academic staff at Birmingham have been nothing but pleasant to me. So maybe there is hope for our generation.

Moving on.

Then I managed to lock myself out of the flat at half past two. Way to go, Bob. Two and a half hours waiting for Amy to get back. It’s cold out there, folks. It wasn’t dreadful, I went for a walk around Cannon Hill Park, which was almost empty, so very nice. Even so, not having my phone, bus pass, wallet or MP3 player on me was exceptionally irritating.

The evening picked up, though, Amy came with me to see The Men Who Stare At Goats, which was a very good film, better than I thought it would be. I thought it would be merely good. I kept thinking it would have been great to have watched it in Parapsychology last year. Not sure if I’ll get it on DVD though. There wasn’t anything in it that was particularly awesome that I’d love to see again.

Thanks to everyone who has given me advice over the past couple of days. I intend to follow your unanimous recommendation, if only I can work out the proper way in which to do it. Somehow, I don’t think an e-mail will do the trick!

Oh! Wednesday! Yes. Went to see Ariane Sherine give a talk at Aston uni, about the Atheist Bus Campaign. It was wonderful. I hadn’t any idea how much money had been raised. They needed 5.5k, and raised over 150k. I cannot express how much it meant to see what could happen when atheists unite over something. Ariane’s story was inspirational, and she has become my latest favourite person. She is the Atheist Who Did Something, and I hope one day to follow her example. I also met an atheist more militant than me, which was refreshing. Perhaps I should make contact with him, and see what can be done. The time has come for atheists to stop huddling together in pubs and lecture theatres, and do what Ariane has done – make a bold, public statement that can be seen internationally.

In psychological terms, we are the goats to the theist sheep, and so are naturally quite individualistic creatures. But I would say that there are goatherds. And when it is in our common interest, and the best interests of the world and humanity itself, I believe that we can and must come together.  To any atheists who don’t think that a formal movement is a good idea, that it would make us Like Them, I say this: Order will always beat chaos. A united multitude will always defeat a passionate crowd as long as they remain divided, no matter how correct their beliefs. We are united by our common beliefs, let us be united in name as well. Strength through unity. We are Humanists, and we must see to it that our voice rings through the world long after the prophets and priests have faded into the dust. We already know that our rationalism has the will to survive the oppression of religion, the power to outlast theocratic tyranny.

I think I admire the emotional aspects of religious faith. The self-assuredness, the optimism, the hope for the future. Obviously the cognitive aspects are less desirable: the deliberate ignorance of evidence; the belittling of reason and rationality; and those who accept the evidence and are reasonable but still cannot let go. I do not see why we cannot look at the world as it is, and look at humanity as it is, and derive the same optimism. The same hope. These things may require faith, but not religious faith. Some things have evidence neither for nor against, and so are merely believed because of one’s tendency to see the best or worst of a situation. I’m traditionally an optimist, which leads me to enormous disappointment and my faith in humanity has been diminished in recent times. What do I lack that a Christian has? Not a god, because they don’t have one either. I lack a strong community. A Christian can go to his fellow God-Botherers and say that his faith has been challenged. And though they aren’t the people to go to in that instance because of course his faith is rightly challenged, he receives support and reassurance. If I see some fresh atrocity, some new outrage, in the news, to whom do I turn to ask, “can there be redemption from this? Can we recover, can we grow and become a better people?”

I close with this video. Her voice is just… amazing.

PS, yes, “a better people” is grammatically correct. Look it up.

And of this moment…I often wonder where the moments go. Where does this physical space & time go once the moment has passed? Is it somewhere behind us, trailing us like the wake of a boat? Or is each moment like a drop of water rippling through the stillness of  the fabric of space time?

The moments must be somewhere! Or would that be somewhen? Seems to me like the moments would have to go somewhere…surely they cannot cease to exist? Methinks I have to think about this a little more as it begs larger metaphysical issues about how the fabric of space & time is created. Is everything created/recreated each moment only to be destroyed by the next moment? Or is there really a somewhen that the moments go to; which begs the question of changing the past…if we could physically or mentally access that specific moment of somewhen and change it…hmmm…somewhen…

I think that there are two ways to be in any system. First, crib about its fallacies and do nothing. Second, continue to practice what you believe and let others take a cue from your actions. (The third and fancier option to change the system is reserved for the truly great leaders.)

Being a proud and ethical person, I chose the second option. All my life, I have tried to “Be the Change”. Whether it is exams in school/college days or appraisals in office, I never confronted others. But neither have I tried to change it for the better. I believed that this was the right way, or is it?

Lets say that I voice my opinions, how would it change my world? I am not sure. There maybe strict action against the wrong doer or maybe no action at all. So, should I be happy if the wrong doer is punished? How does it help me? It doesn’t! Some may argue that it might discourage others from repeating the same mistake. Point well taken, but what about the person who is punished? He has lost his honour and in all probability he will continue his misdoings as he has nothing else to loose. But everything here looks so result oriented!

This takes the disscussion to another topic. Should outcome determine our actions? I have grown up believing that “While working, do not think of results”. But are the learnings of Gita still relevant in Kalyug? I don’t have an answer to it. My response will change based on my mood. On good days, I would say that we should “Enjoy the process”. On bad days like these, I will probably kick myself for being “Such a fart”.

Lets be objective for this final paragraph. No Emotions or Ethics. What people see and remember is what you achieve. And by the very nature of it, it is result-oriented. That explains why people cheat. Cause five years down the line, the cheater who was never caught reaches the top!

I am not a very ambitious person. I mean yeah, I have lots of ideas and dreams of things I want to do or see or accomplish but I have no real… drive to actually do them. I find it rather sad.

Ambition is a necessary thing; if anyone were completely without it they would have no desire to do anything beyond one’s basic survival instincts. That person would simply eat, drink and sleep (and perhaps attempt to procreate ).

As with most things too much ambition is a bad thing though, sometimes a very bad thing. Too much ambition quickly becomes loathsome greed. And greed, well… that’s a delusional rambling for another day .

by Karen Topakian

Recently while visiting Yellowstone National Park, I witnessed many geysers spout glorious plumes of hot water, yards into the air.

The best-known geyser, Old Faithful, draws a large audience of tourists waiting for the “show,” which occurs like clockwork every 75 minutes. Not the biggest geyser in the Park, but most assuredly the most predictable.

While waiting for Old Faithful, my traveling companion, David, whooped when suddenly another geyser in the far, far distance spectacularly shot its hot water straight into the air.

Instantly, he called his wife on his cell phone. This notoriously unpredictable geyser, that they had once waited hours in vain to see, was just now releasing a magnificent display of scalding water and steam.

His digital camera clicked repeatedly as he captured the moment for posterity.

Having never seen geysers before, and not being able to really discern the difference between the two, I felt grateful for seeing any. But for an old geyser watcher, David truly appreciated the magnificent more than the predictable.

The comparison of the two brought a question to mind. Which do we prefer the predictable or the magnificent?

Allow me to laugh for a minute ..(HAHAHAHAHAH).. Thank you, that was fun.

The idea that the world would end 2012 was always ridiculous, but the idea that some old mayan fuck has predicted it was even funnier, because they couldnt even predict their own demise. But a couple of weeks ago, real scientists interpreted the mayan calender that was predicting this “end of the world”. And found out that the actual date of this change(thats what it says) that was to occur was 2220, meaning a couple of hundred years from now.

Now, not only did they make a really expensive(albeit terribly bad) movie about it, these doomsday prophets actually made several(some really good) websites about it.

So what do we do now? The mayans are wrong, but the 2012 people can fall back on other “prophecies”. Me, I dont really know, or care what will happen in 2012. If we die, we die, if not, I’m not going to celebrate either way.

On Thanksgiving in 2006, I was reminiscing with my Aunt Pat and Uncle Andy about our frequent outings to New York City when I was little. I was remembering walks in the park, movies in midtown, fancy restaurants. One time I asked for ketchup with my steak…Wasn’t that silly of me? I laughed. Good thing my taste has improved as I have gotten older. Ah, good times.

My aunt and uncle looked at me incredulously, and then my Aunt Pat said, “Jennifer, we only took you to the City twice.”

I was speechless.

Before you say to yourself – here is yet another example of how Jen has created an alternate reality in her head – I will beat you to it. Clearly, my memory of spending time with Pat and Andrew was a bit exaggerated, but with good reason. To a precocious girl of nine years, it was extremely meaningful that a sophisticated couple like Aunt Pat and Uncle Andrew took an interest in me.

I thought their life together was fascinating. They complimented each other perfectly. Pat was fun-loving and Andy had a wicked sense of humor. She laughed frequently and with abandon and he had plenty of material to fuel her outbursts of laughter. They enjoyed each other’s company and spent many afternoons or evenings sitting in their backyard or on their porch, Pat enjoying a cocktail while Andrew smoked his pipe. They enjoyed music, visited museums, read lots of books. They were an intellectual couple, eschewing TV-watching to such a degree that they only had a small black and white television set which was hidden in a closet. As a child, that fact was simultaneously maddening and admirable.

They were also fascinating to me as individuals. Pat made me want to be a working woman. Her life seemed glamorous as she ventured into New York City each day to work at a prestigious company like IBM. Pat’s career achievements were especially notable since she was one of few women in the technology field in the 1970s. I was amazed at her ability and willingness to be a pioneer. Pat showed me that it was worthwhile to strive and it paid off to make your own rules.

My Uncle Andrew was a writer, a career choice I found intriguing. I loved sneaking off to pore over Andrew’s stash of Cracked magazines, and I would spend an hour just skimming old issues for his writing and jokes. I thought it was remarkable that his observations on life were so sharp and witty that someone wanted to publish them in print.  My aunt and uncle were urbane, and I wanted to be like them.

Even in light of these outward achievements, Pat and Andy were extremely accessible people, and their approach to Thanksgiving was embodied how warm and inclusive they were. Each year when I arrived to their house there was someone new: a distant cousin of Pat’s from West Virginia who happened to be in town, a coworker from decades ago, a friend who couldn’t make it home to visit his family, a fellow cyclist who just wanted to join the fun. It never occurred to either Pat or Andrew that they shouldn’t invite more people over, that there might not be enough chairs or enough food. They just embraced everyone and let the rest work itself out. It always did.

As I grew into adulthood our relationship evolved into friendship. Aunt Pat and Uncle Andrew mentored me, encouraging me to follow my instincts, to take calculated risks with my career, and to make the most of the life I have to live. When I contemplated leaving public education for a career in the corporate world, they helped me put aside my doubts and take the leap. That decision was a defining one in my life, and their faith in me was crucial at a time when I was unsure of myself. After twelve years in the corporate world I yearned to start my own consulting firm, and again Pat and Andrew encouraged me to trust in my abilities and in myself. As a result a whole new world of opportunities has become available to me.

I continued to uncover new reasons to appreciate each of them. I noted the depth of my Uncle Andrew’s kindness and generosity toward others. Whether he was visiting my ailing grandparents multiple times per day or spending hours coaching aspiring cyclists who don’t know how to get started, he never expected anything in return. Andrew demonstrated to me how caring for other people makes one’s own life more significant.

As I learned more about my Aunt Pat, it was her bravery that struck me. Pat survived two World Trade Center bombings and helped others to safety both times. She and I spoke over the phone on September 14, 2001 when I was living in Texas, and I was surprised to realize she was comforting me because I was far from our family, even though she was the one who had just had a near-death experience, days before.

Andrew’s caring and Pat’s bravery was the crux of their relationship during their last years together on Earth. Pat was extremely brave during a battle with cancer that lasted over two years, and I know her strength was grounded in how Andy attended to her. Pat needed to be as fun-loving as her body would allow, and Andy facilitated that by enabling her to stay at home and have as close to a “normal” life as possible. Even the day before Pat died, she and I sat on her front porch with her daughter and her sister, telling stories while Pat nursed a martini. It was clear she was losing strength, but she wouldn’t let her spirit be subdued by her fading body. I am appreciative to Pat for being so brave and to Andy for creating an environment in which she could be that way. I am indebted to both of them for leaving me with such an indelible happy memory of her.

I am unbelievably thankful for having had someone like Aunt Pat in my life. I am extremely grateful to still have Uncle Andrew with me now. There is no doubt in my heart that I will be given the opportunity to see them together again, because Pat and Andrew are soulmates. I feel lucky to have witnessed their relationship.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Ever since
I started this blog
All I have done
Is slog and slog…

At home I am the gourmet chef
I always make a big deal
Of the breakfast that I prepare
Including the humble oatmeal!

Congrats Mr. General Manager
How did you climb the corporate ladder
“I worked so hard and never took breaks
Not even to empty my bladder!”

East is east and west is west
Never the twain shall meet
Except when you go to any
Multicuisine restaurant to eat

Work is work
And play is play
Don’t combine the two
That is my way…

An idle mind is a Devil’s workshop
So let’s just keep him busy
Give him so much work that he
Get’s into a tizzy!

So, I had wanted to have a dinner for thanksgiving, but I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to work out all the little details, I didn’t know where to buy a Turkey, I didn’t have a oven, I wasn’t even sure I knew how to cook anything. As you all know, Thanksgiving is this Thursday, but several people couldn’t come, and then I found I would have to work on Thursday, so I couldn’t make it anyways. However, Monday was a National holiday in Japan, so I figured people would be more available.

We stayed out late on Sunday, and on Monday I realized I would need to get up really early in order to make it all the way into Tokyo to the import store where I would buy all the materials. I dragged Harrison along, and we made it to the store in Hiroo around 10am. As Thanksgiving was coming up, all the good foods were out, so it wasn’t hard to find. We bought a Turkey Breast that was boneless, two turkey legs, mashed potatoes, corn, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and all the fixings. I also grabbed some Carrots from the local grocery, and we were on our way home. When we got home, I got to cooking. I tossed the Turkey in the oven and then set about preparing the other foods. Another American, Jacqueline, had cooked up a bunch of food, but was going to Church, so she donated the food to our cause. My Korean friend Jang EunHye came over and helped me prepare the food, though she had a bit of trouble reading all the English instructions. =P The food was all prepared and brought to the room. 16 people showed up and we had quite the feast. Surprisingly, the food wasn’t too terrible =P I actually thought it was pretty good. The Gravy was delicious, I was so happy with how it turned out. I guess cooking isn’t too terribly hard. The Swedes brought some Swedish meatballs which I gleefully destroyed in a matter of minutes (You know how much I like Swedish Meatballs…) Afterwards we all headed up to my room to hang out, and one by one people headed out, and when only three or four of us were left, we popped in a movie and just chilled out for a while. It was such a relaxing day and totally evaporated any of the homesick feelings I had. I mean, I still miss my family (especially my beloved sister =P) but last night, I was truly appreciative of my new family I’ve found here at Saidai.

Also, Koreans with fillet knifes are really scary.