I have noticed that the ‘audience’ of Wittgenstein Tweets comprises a fair number of philosophers and writers. I employ these terms ‘philosophers’ and ‘writers’ as loosely as they do. I personally believe that a great deal of good can be created in the realm where philosophical thinking meets creative writing. If you don’t agree with me, stop reading. Have a biscuit. Whatever. Continue reading “Challenge for PHILOSOPHERS who WRITE”
So, what would the great philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein have done with a Twitter account? Over the next 6-months I am going to be updating @WittTweets in an attempt to answer this question. Here you’ll get a drip-feed of updates from a mocked-up Wittgenstein, right from his boyhood to his eventual death (which I imagine will be quite a sad event for me to tweet). This may be the only chance you get to live side-by-side with an accelerated form of Wittgenstein for a long time, so please take advantage. No love for or knowledge of Wittgenstein is necessary!
Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale reminded me how much I love dystopias. In fact, this list of dystopian films serves well as a jumbled-up 50 Greatest Films of All Time. It’s got it all: Orwell, Vonnegut, Dick… WALL-E.
In The Handmaid’s Tale the ingredients for the dystopia seem to have been picked from two different places: the past, which provides sexism and theocracy, and the future, for its abundance of leaky chemicals and annoyingly meltdownable nuclear power plants. Obviously the present (which means the 1980s for Atwood) must still feature holdovers from the past (e.g. Iran, Catholicism, and also sexism, racism and homophobia in the work place) and some ominous glimmers of the future (e.g. DDT, Agent Orange, and nuclear accidents such as Three Mile Island). But it would make little sense for someone to read about one dystopia from within the context of another.
Or would it? Continue reading “It’s Comfy Between Dystopias!”
It made me choke on my breakfast this morning to read the declaration from Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow that the subject I’ve taught for the last two years, and which I intend to study this coming year, is dead:
“[On questions concerning the nature of the universe]: Traditionally these are questions for philosophy, but philosophy is dead. Philosophy has not kept up with modern developments in science, particularly physics.” (‘The Grand Design’, 2010)
I hope that tomorrow I don’t discover that psychology has fallen too, or that mathematics is suffering from an upset stomach. Continue reading “Philosophy is Dead! Long Live Philosophy”
This week I was given the opportunity to see how a different social stratum live, by the accidental procurement of a ticket to Reading Festival. Not a working class congregation exactly – not with tickets at those prices – but perhaps less upper-middle class and more middle-middle class. The bands (nouveau riche) had wonderfully colourful names like Guns N’ Roses and This is Hell, but I soon realised that these names had little to do with the content of their shows, which was probably for the best.
Hello world! My name is Dr_DragonM8_37 and I am a Level 89 Barbarian in the world of Boletaria which is in what foreigners call “Demon’s Soul’s”, but I just call it home! My father was the most dextrous Temple Knight possible (crossbow specialism), and my mother was a Dark Priest with absol Optimised Build Quality , but they were both killed by a Black Phantom of only, like, Level 45, so WE DON’T GO THERE!! <=8 Continue reading “I am Dr_DragonM8_37, resurfacing!”
The entirety of the world’s online media is failing to generate new material at the rate needed to satisfy Mr. Pindish’s modest surfing appetite, according to reliable sources. Tech correspondents, futurologists, film reviewers – and even editors of long-running whimsical web comics – have come under heavy fire today as a close friend of the man described their efforts as “just not good enough.” Continue reading “BREAKING NEWS: Internet “not keeping up with” Abe Pindish”
[I have only just realised, after writing this whole post, that this is really just a PR plug for a podcast I’m involved in, ‘The Proof is in the Podcast’. Feel free to just go straight to the chitter-chatter first.]
There are clearly many forms of writing which have become well established over time: The Novel, The Short Story, The Poem etc. We know these forms, so we know what to expect e.g. we know that a short story can probably be finished whilst travelling on The District Line between Earl’s Court and Tower Hill – with a twist hopefully kicking in somewhere near Monument. Now, just another one of these forms, which has become quite as ubiquitous as the others, is The Review (a poor example of which I sort of ‘coughed up’ down below). And I have to confess that there are some aspects of reviews that I just don’t get. Continue reading “Reviews vs. Reflections”
You obviously have to be wary with games linked to film franchises, but then again why take any risks these days when metacritic can all but guarantee 90% satisfaction? More generally, you should be wary about making any assumptions, and here I made the false assumption that this was linked to a film franchise in the first place. It’s actually linked closely to the original comic book and animated TV series, I am told. This is good, because you’re just ‘being Batman’, you’re not ‘being Christian Bale being Batman and doing all the things you already know he’ll do because you’ve watched the film, like, five times’. Continue reading “Review of ‘Batman: Arkham Asylum’”
I have a very middle-class friend called Mr. Meyer Spoonbridge who wants to make a habit of visiting working-class establishments. I managed to yoink this from his holdall:
Diary Entry, 14th July 2010
I am still trying to put myself together after a shocking episode at lunchtime today. My colleague Jude Quinn – who is in all truth probably the most working class person I associate with – took me on a field trip of sorts to a place that sits right at the crest of his memory lane. To all those not sharing in his nostalgia, it is known simply as The Pie Shop, and it can be found in the least salubrious quarters of Bexleyheath, to the west, where you are greeted by the grind of restless traffic, the endless rattle of a hundred prams being pushed by 15-year-old mothers serving cigarettes to their babes, and Pizza Hut. Continue reading “Diary Entry of Mr. Meyer Spoonbridge”