New essay on my Philosophy Site!

I added an epistemology essay on my philosophy site. This was one of my fav's at the U of MN and it won me a T-shirt with our Vice President saying "Go @!## Yourself" on it from my anti-Bush professor. Hmmmm. Anyway, you can tell by the preview paragraph below that it's gripping, controversial stuff, eh? I hope I don't crash the blogger server with the increased traffic. (more mainstream posts are coming, I promise)

Testimony and Knowledge:
Contrasting and Evaluating the Humean and Reidian Models

According to David Hume, "There is no species of reasoning more common, more useful, and even necessary to human life, than that which is derived from the testimony of men, and the reports of eye-witnesses and spectators." The majority of a person's knowledge is based on second-hand evidence (I read in a book that Mt. Fuji is in Japan) rather than first-hand experiences (I traveled to Japan and saw first-hand that Mt. Fuji exists). As we are now overly saturated in propositions in this internet-fueled age of information, it is increasingly imperative that we have a guideline to help decide when it is reasonable to believe a proposition based on testimony. If we are overly strict in what we allow ourselves to believe based on testimony, we risk shutting ourselves out of a world of valid information. If we are too loose in our standards, however, we risk gullibly accepting false propositions. Both David Hume and Thomas Reid have offered guidelines that could help us decide when we are justified in believing testimonial evidence. I will examine Hume's view on testimony in Part I, then I will set out the contrasting view of Reid in Part II. In Part III, I will critically assess both views before concluding in Part IV where I will give support for the better of the two views.

Got ya hooked, didn't I??? (are you picking up any sarcasm yet?)

To read the full article: http://myphilosophypapers.blogspot.com/2006/08/testimony-and-knowledge-contrasting.html

Just Call Me Betty Lou...

Prologue: The Soccer Shoe

The indoor soccer shoe is by far the most comfortable every-day shoe available. They are form-fitting, sleek, and extremely light. Most importantly, they are the one type of athletic shoe that won’t make you look like a doofis. I hate soccer, but I love their fashion. Try on a pair; you’ll be sold for life.

The History of the Samba

In 1998, I purchased a pair of soccer shoes: the Adidas Samba. They are a simplistically lovely shoe: black with white stripes and an extra long tongue to cover the first few laces. More importantly, they fit my feet nice and snug and I thought they looked pretty rad. For eight years, I have been buying the Sambas. Each year they wear out and each year I get a new pair. There were times when I’d even plan ahead and purchase 2 pair at the buy-one-get-one-half-off sale so I’d be stoked for 2 years straight.

THE SAMBA: Soft, supple full grain leather upper with Brushed nylon quarter lining, HF molded tongue, and full rubber shell outsole with functional indoor sole profile.

Ever since I had the financial responsibility to purchase my own footwear without the help of my maw, I’ve been an Adidas loyalist. They fit my goofy feet and they have good style. My basketball shoes, my running shoes, my Sambas… all Adidas. Back in Kindergarten we all new what A-D-I-D-A-S meant and I stayed true to the philosophy of the three stripes.

On Sunday my wife and I made the annual trek to Famous Footwear to get my replacement set of Sambas as they were looking pretty ragged. On a whim, I tried on a pair of Nike Air Tempo Rivals. I felt a bit ashamed so I made sure that I did this a few rows away from my Sambas. The Nikes looked pretty rad, plus they fit a bit… (gasp!) better. To seal the deal, they were $10 cheaper.

The Betrayal… or The Midlife Crisis?

I bought the Nikes.

I don’t know if my feet just perked up after 8 years of being in the same shoe or what, but they told me to do it. Maybe my arches are in a midlife crisis and they need to fulfill some sort of Indonesian Sweat Shop fantasy or something. My ankles seemed to have perked up as they look down upon a white shoosh.

Say goodbye to your rivals in this throwback with style and substance. The Nike Air Tempo Rival offers a comfortable fit, and provides the perfect touch on the soccer ball.

I felt guilty as I walked up to the Famous Footwear counter, leaving the 9.5 US Sambas behind. Karla gave me a pat on the back and told me that all would be okay. Oh well, most guys buy floppy hats and convertibles when a midlife crisis happens. I bought shoes. It could be worse, I suppose.

Requiem for a Samba

I would now like to take a moment to thank my many pairs of Sambas for the 8 years of happiness you’ve given to my feet. Yes, you had no arch and you had little cushion, but boy you were light, streamlined, and really cool looking. You are the true sneaker as I could imagine ninjas donning Sambas before infiltrating some secret dojo. Yeah, the extra long tongue flap would occasionally flap upwards and make me look dorky. Yeah, you gave me blisters when I forgot my basketball shoes one Wednesday night. Yeah, you wore out a bit faster than most shoes… but we’ve been through a lot together, Samba, and my feet miss you already.

King Kong reviewed...

Hey gang,

My review of King Kong (yes it's late, but I don't go to theaters) is up on Movie Patron, so give the site some love and check it out; it's been recently revamped and it's quite impressive.

The site: http://www.moviepatron.com

Direct link to my review: http://www.moviepatron.com/moviereviews/k/kingkong_revisited.html

Also, I have a lot of writing to do! I'll be doing more reviews shortly and some blogs about running and my recent trip to Vegas. Check back next week!

Who's Afraid Of A Wee Little Kid?

Okay, really quick rant here...

There's a new scary movie being advertised over and over and over again with some little kid whispering, "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" then whispering the movie info in some spooky scared kid tone.

STOP IT! We've already had our fill of spooky whispering kids:

"I'lllll neverrrrr telllllllllll."

"I see dead people...."

"What are Midichlorians, Master QuiGon?"

etc....

Whispering kids aren't scary. They are annoying and I want them off my television.

(Kids who write REDRUM in the mirror are a bit spooky, though.)

Thanks.

Reality Sets In At 31.

I've always been a crotchety old man trapped in a young man's body: I walk to downtown Stillwater to see how high the river is, I keep bird feeders and change my feed in order to steal my neighbor's cardinals, I look out the window and shake an imaginary cane at the riff-raff passing by on their bikes. Music and TV were better back in the day, they don't make good stuff anymore, and I wish they'd just settle on a form of technology so we don't have to keep buying new DVD's and TV's.

(ahhh... the northern cardinal. add sunflower seeds to your mix to attract these lovely birds)


At the same time, I considered myself young: I could eat what I want and still fit into my 30x32 pants, the same size as in high school, I can play basketball with my young nephews every Wednesday and keep up, I can set the clock on the VCR when needed. I still rock out on my guitar every night and I can play the occasional videogame.

It's been a few months since my 31st birthday. I still fit into my 30x32's, but now the start of what looks to be a gut hangs over. Wha?

I weighed myself. I am now 154... that's 24 pounds heavier than my highschool-college weight! Apparently my body forgot how to lose weight by watching Saved By The Bell reruns.

Each time my wife cuts my hair, she has to ask what I want to do with my hairline. Once a month it creeps back, leaving stray hairs behind. I tell her to shave 'em off like the last time. Walking past a window downtown Stillwater, I noticed the sun glaring off my thinned out scalp and reflecting back at me, laughing, Ha Ha, baldy! Why don't you stop inside the antique shop? I know you want to! Damn sun.

It's official. I am old.

I now have to watch what I eat. To make it worse, I have to work off what I consume! Even worse: I went out and purchased running shoes and a pedometer! I now run a few miles every other day... and that's just to break even! I used to run in track back in the day, but now my muscles hurt a bit more than I remember and I don't remember sweating so much either. Sigh.

You know I went to see Deicide last time they came to the 'cities. I brought earplugs with me.

Sigh.

In reality, I think it's fun. I like to back up my old fogie attitude with a body that matches. I like to grunt and grab my back every time I get up from the lazy boy. I've earned it and I love it. My wife and I are going to grow reaaallly old together I and look forward to each surprise.

Did I mention my grey hair?

There is hope in Minnesota.

It's sad to be a sports fan in Minnesota.

The Vikes? Who knows; and really, who really cares anymore?

The Wolves? Hah! McHale has run this jinxed franchise into the ground and The Franchise himself deserves to be let go to a competitor so he can get a ring. (Although I'd cry myself to sleep during basketball season).

The Wild? Uh... the Excel Center is neat.

Here's the spark plug, Minnesota!

!VAMANOS Francisco! !Estas mi jugador favorito! !Los Gemelos puede ser el equipo ultimo en el futuro!

Roger who? That old HGH freak had nothing on mi hombre, Francisco. After 8 innings, 7 K's and 2 earned runs, Liriano further cemented himself as my favorite Twinkie.

Now, add Liriano to Santana and the young bats behind 'em in Kubel, Mourneau and Mauer... LOOK OUT FUTURE, HERE COMES THE TWINS. Let's have one more World Series in the dome before we move outdoors, eh? October is mighty cold.

Oh yeah. Hey Torii. You have two I's. OPEN THEM AND USE THEM. The ball is LOW and OUTSIDE. Stop swinging.

My apologies to the Spanish speaking population... I am sorry for butchering your language. I am also sorry for assuming that Liriano speaks Spanish; I have no idea where he's from.

My philosophy papers...

In case you're interested, I am posting my philosophy essays on another site. I'll have one essay on the page at a time with links available to access other archived essays. The first one posted is my senior paper... it's a doozy!

Go here to see what my wife had to endure in her proofreading: http://www.myphilosophypapers.blogspot.com

Happy reading, philosophy nerds!

Happy 6.6.6 Everybody

Whatever. If it weren't for metal, it would be just another day.

But I was born to rock baby! To prove it, check me out--full mullet--in my high school band (our playist: Angel of Death, Holy Wars (The Punishment Due), Seasons in the Abyss, Anarchy in the U.K., some random other stuff and an original song with a title I forget).

Mullets rock, Slayer rocks, Deicide rocks, the goat horn finger salute rocks. Let us celebrate all that old metal music on this day.

I am now going downstairs to rock out on my V-shaped guitar (tuned down to C), write an "evil" sounding song, and make a mix of all that good ol' fashioned metal.

Have a good one! Next year we'll celebrate Danzig on July 7th!

what was in my car.......

Peeping Tom (2006)


Man, I've been waiting a long time for this CD: six years to be exact. This is the rumored return to accessible pop music that Mike Patton fans have been dreaming about since Faith No More broke up. Yes, we had Mr. Bungle's California and a couple Tomahawk CD's to feature Patton's singing over structured, beginning-middle-end songwriting, but we wanted something a little more sane to rest our heads after ingesting Fantomas and Maldoror. These were fun to listen to, but throw us a friggen 4/4 rhythm every once in a while, eh?

Anyway, this is everything I wanted. It's groovy pop music with a good hiphop beat, but it also has the typical Patton edge to throw you for an occasional "what the hell was that?" and keep you guessing what's coming next. Every song features a guest DJ, musician, or vocalist (Dan the Automater, Dub Trio, and even Norah Jones make appearances) but this is 100% pure Patton. He does his (sorry) "Patton-ted" tricks: crooning, whispering, screaming, etc. while not seeming as obtrusively goofy as his other stuff (i.e.: he actually sings WORDS on this one).

With no throw-aways, this CD is a concise, concentrated collection of densely produced tracks. They all have their hooks in order: catchy choruses, buildups to payoffs, and sing-along melodies. It's challenging enough to keep the hard-core Patton fan interested, but it's accessible enough to try to slip in to the CD player when your friend is in the car. While I did appreciate his zillion projects between FNM and the present, I can finally say: THIS IS THE PATTON I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! I WILL LISTEN TO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN!


Thanks, Mike!

Rating: ******** (outta 8)

Oh yeah, the packaging is really nifty. Not that it matters, but check it out if you are a downloader.

Hell Yeah!!

I am done. Whewwwww. Back to blogging, eh?