Yesterday the Amateur Philosophers Discussion Group convened in the corner at the round table at Starbucks. We discussed a topic “the right of belief” using a essay by professor Daniel DeNicola to launch us into dialog. The exchange between the nine of us was down-to-earth, directly tied to individual past histories, and to recent…
Another day in paradise… The thought often comes to me here at Starbucks, standing at the counter speaking to the barista. I know him by name and he already knows the type of coffee that I am in habit of ordering. Sometimes I say the phrase out loud and Noah smiles. We agree, a…
How can I say this? A conversation with a friend yesterday remained in my psyche. Upon waking I recalled what he said about his experience with Medicare and the Veterans Administration. His story was not a happy one. I reflected upon the rules that constrain receiving medical care benefits that one is qualified for,…
In a state of vertigo this morning, feeling my way along hoping the words come. Yesterday while concentrating to write an entry for another day, I discovered that a few weeks ago my aunt passed away. I was not aware she was ill. I visited with her a year ago in North Carolina. She…
Six of us, a wide ranging discussion last night. The topic was death; more precisely, pondering whether death gives meaning to life. The discussion was satisfying. We did not resolve the matter after an hour and a half of back and forth. Briefly in the midst of the session we touched on guns, mass…
I am feeling déjà vu. The scene keeps repeating itself. Except in Highland Park, it appears that white people are grieving innocents struck down by gunfire. The story has headlined the evening news for days now. Not the “one and done” of such stories that keep happening on the west and south side…
This morning I finished reading, The Tears of Eros by Georges Bataille. I am sure the book is not finished with me. Bataille offers not an argument, but an assertion demonstrated by photography of artworks from the Paleolithic to the modern era, to paintings by various artists in the late 20th century. The book,…
A sultry Sunday afternoon, and here I am at Starbucks, moving words on this screen, like pieces on a chessboard. Yesterday evening was spent at Henry Maier Festival Park, Milwaukee for Summerfest. Summerfest bills itself as the worlds largest music festival. As a marketing ploy, I suppose the outsized claim works. The site is…
It is Saturday morning. The day promises to be comfortable, more so than the high 90s of the past several days. This morning the Farmers Market with Laura and our daughter and grand daughter is anticipated. In the afternoon I look forward to keeping accompany with my son to the race track in Wisconsin. …
We are discontinuous beings, individuals who perish in the midst of an incomprehensible adventure, but we yearn, for our lost continuity. Continuity is what we are after… -excerpt introduction to Eroticism by Georges Bataille, trans. by Mary Dalwood This tune will be our lifeline, enough to hold onto for this part of the journey….
