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I Don’t Want to Be Lonely Anymore – Part 2

Analysis of The Man Chapter 3  Continued

A Man said to the universe:

“Sir, I exist!”

“However,” replied the universe,

“The fact has not created in me

A sense of obligation”.

Stephen Crane 1871 – 1900

Who Caused My Bad Luck?

No one can deny that Nietzsche had his fair share of ‘bad luck’ during his life time. But when things went pear shaped (bad), for example, with his relationships or his health or when he had money problems, he never complained about his bad luck or blamed his circumstances on someone else.

Nietzsche’s view, which he later developed into a philosophy of life that is the basis of his book, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, was that we are responsible for our own life and for making the decisions that will affect it.

God is Dead said Nietzsche

Frustration with religion prompted Nietzsche to declare "God is Dead"

Most of you will know that Nietzsche was rabidly anti religion and he had many reasons for that but one was that he felt strongly that man uses religion like a crutch to abrogate (to do away with, to avoid) taking responsibility for his life.

Nietzsche felt we are happy to take credit for our successes (whether we were responsible for them or not) but quick to ascribe (credit, allocate) our bad decisions or our failures to “God’s will” rather than accepting that it is our responsibility to make decisions and to act on them and consequently we have to accept responsibility for the consequences they reap. This concept became very important to Nietzsche and it is echoed so succinctly (with concise and precise brevity) in the above poem by Stephen Crane.

Stephen Crane

I first read the poem “A Man said to the universe” many years ago and it made a huge impact on me that has never waned (decreased). I think of it when I am not happy with the way things are and I often quote it to clients, especially these days when they complain about business but do nothing to change the way they market.

Stephen Crane in Greece 1897

Crane was only 28 and already a great writer, poet and journalist when he died of tuberculosis in a Black Forest sanitarium.

The poem reminds us that Life, the universe, God owe us nothing. It gave us the miracle of life which as far as we know, has occurred no where else in the universe, what more do we expect? Nietzsche’s continues this theme by arguing that what we do with our life after birth, is up to us.

This is how I understand what they are saying;

Our life is our responsibility. How we live it is our responsibility. Our ethical and moral code, whether we choose to follow the Christian, Moslem, Jewish, Buddhist, Hindu religion or any faith or no faith, they too are our responsibility as long as we don’t use that as an excuse for not taking responsibility for making our own decisions.

Good, bad or indifferent, we and we alone make the decisions that ultimately determine our quality of life. That applies equally if you make a decision not to make a decision or to follow someone else’s decision.

The Meaning of Life

Of course, it does not mean that you are responsible for everything that happens, for example, if you get laid off (fired) from work during a recession. But it is up to you to decide how you respond to that. You can either become bitter and hate the world for doing this to you (i.e. see yourself as a victim) or you can use the opportunity to learn a new trade, spend more time with your kids, start a business or any of a thousand other choices that are within your capacity to make. And if you don’t like the result you get, change it by making another one and so on until you get a result you are happy with.

Zarathustra is Nietzsche’s invention to enable him to answer the question “What is Truth?” Which could be restated as “What is the meaning of life?” Basically Nietzsche’s answer is; isn’t it the realization that there is no truth except the truth which you yourself are? That there is no truth, no meaning to life in the world that is relevant to you, except the truth, (the meaning) that you yourself give your life.

Nietzsche says

Friedrich Nietzsche

There is no truth, no meaning to life in the world that is relevant to you, except the truth that you yourself give your life.

“… To give life a meaning: that has been the grand endeavor of all that have preached ‘truth’; for unless life is given a meaning it has none. At this level, truth is not something that can be proved or disproved: it is something which you determine upon, which, in the language of the old psychology, you will. It is not something waiting to be discovered, (it is not) something to which you submit or at which you halt: it is something you create, it is the expression of a particular kind of life and being which has, in you, ventured to assert itself. …….. Because each particular life and being needs a fortress within which to preserve and protect itself and from which to reach out ….. and truth (your meaning to life) is this fortress.”

In the philosophical novel, The Man we have met two people so far who take responsibility for their life, the chemist and Annie and two who are victims of life, the aboriginal woman and The Man.

What we learn is that when you feel you have no control over your life it is easy to lose hope and without hope there is little point to life and no reason to look forward to the future. It is “Like standing between two mirrors, you see the future but it is just a repetition of today, through to infinity.”

The interesting thing is it can happen to anyone, whether you come from a disadvantaged position as per the Aboriginal woman or you are a hot shot like The Man you can lose the Way. However, Nietzsche says it is within the power of even the most disadvantaged person to wrest control of their life back, for example, little Annie who has only known poverty and illness.

Obviously losing control of your life would be a catastrophic situation if there was no chance of “redemption’ as Nietzsche calls it. And it was in developing this philosophy that Nietzsche invented the much misunderstood concept of the Übermensch or “Superman”.

The Übermensch or ‘Superman’

Nietzsche's Invention - The Ubermensch

The 'Superman’ is the man who is master of himself. Friedrich Nietzsche

For Nietzsche, ‘the Supermanis the man who is master of himself.

But Nietzsche tells us that to master oneself is the hardest task of all. It requires the greatest amount of ‘power’ (another misunderstood concept of Nietzsche’s).

Nietzsche believed that man was dominated by two primitive drives; the desire for power and the emotion of fear. However, Nietzsche came to understand fear as the feeling of the absence of power, so he was left with a single motivating principle for all human actions: the will to power. (Where power is the fortitude, the strength of character needed to master oneself).

Thus he who masters himself experiences the greatest increase in power and if happiness is the feeling that power increases, i.e. that a resistance (inside us) is overcome, then the Superman will be the happiest man and experiences the greatest sense of the meaning of existence.

By which Nietzsche means that, by transforming the chaos of life through the continual self-overcoming of the challenges life throws at us, we experience greater joy. This is the real meaning of life, for joy is to Nietzsche the one thing that requires no justification. It is in short, its own justification.

Which Comes First Happiness or Pain?

Nietzsche goes one step further, he says “He who had attained that joy would affirm life and love it however much pain it contained, because he would know that all things are chained and entwined together and everything is therefore part of a whole which man must accept as a whole”.

Wow! So now we know how Nietzsche was able to cope in the face of so many disappointments and perceived failures (I say perceived because that is how he saw himself although we now know that he was not a failed writer, thinker and philosopher, far from it). He saw all the pain, the trials and tribulations he experienced as stepping stones to the joy he experienced such as when he was in love or writing.

Annie seems to naturally know this; “She knew the melody for she was the composer” and as such she is able to be defiant in the face of her mortal illness rather than be a victim of it. She is in Nietzsche’s words a “Superman” and an excellent role model although I must admit, I had no idea she would turn out that way when I planned the story.

So, The Man A philosophical Novel, asks the question “What is reality?” is it what is happening to you or what you make it?

Annie created her own reality because “She revelled in the knowledge that her truth was indeed the truth. No matter what anyone said, it was her life and it was up to her to give it meaning for surely, if life is not given meaning, it has none

I think this is the secret that Nietzsche discovered that enabled him to live a happy and fruitful life. Mind you, ‘happy’ is a subjective term, if you want love and you don’t get it, can you be truly happy? But that is a topic for another day.

This is the end of the analysis of The Man chapter 3, and also concludes my sub theme on Nietzsche (for now :-) ).

The next two or three  posts will be a short series submitted by a reader on the Philosophy of Change. It is really great so I know you will like it and while that is happening here I hope to use the time to post some articles on the Chinese Philosophy section of this blog which I have neglected this year. I also intend to start work on Chapter 4 of The Man.

The Man, A Philosophical Novel –  The Chapters So Far:

The Man Chapter 1

The Man Chapter 2

The Man Chapter 3

Read an Analysis of Each Chapter – The Philosophy and Ideas behind the Story

Analysis of The Man Chapter 1

Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

A Readers Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

Pre Analysis Background Information for The Man Chapter 3

I Don’t Want to be Lonely – Author’s Analysis of the Man Chapter 3 – Part 1

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Category: Friedrich Nietzsche, Kitchen Sink Philosophy, The Man  Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,  
355 Responses
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Chapter 3 The Man Discovers the Aboriginal Settlement

The Man – A Philosophical Novel

The flame is not so bright to itself as to those on whom it shines

Chapter 3

Revised 15th September 2010

As he walked into town the Man passed the Aboriginal settlement. The houses, seemingly frozen in the process of being demolished had tell tale holes in the fibro and sacks soiled with the  muck of everyday life for curtains. The front yard of each house was littered with rubbish between obnoxious weeds and patches of dirty grass that stood out like dreary islands in a sea of mud.

He smelt the large metal drums of garbage and putrefied rain water in which were thrown the broken pieces of asbestos fibro and the discarded remains of plastic take out, the remnants of a diet of cheap calories. He noted the derelict cars half assembled or were they half stripped down, the owner had long ago forgotten which.

Young snotty nosed Aboriginal children ran amok, one waving a stick with a dead rat skewered to it chasing the others who were laughing and screaming.

Young girls were playing hop scotch but there were no chalk marks on the ground, they just knew where the invisible squares were. Another group were swinging a skipping rope singing a dimly recognisable ditty while the girl in the middle effortlessly danced with the rope.

Sitting with their backs against one of the skeleton cars a group of teenagers sat sniffing petrol from an old coke bottle, their dull eyes wide and unseeing.

A Life Without Hope

The Aboriginal woman from the chemist shop was sitting on a door step, a burnt out cigarette languidly hanging from her purple, puffy, unkissed sunburnt lips. Looking but long ago resigned to not seeing she had abandoned desire and with that began the inevitable decline that ended with the loss of all hope. For her there was no joy in existence, all she had now was her little Anna and she was losing her ounce by ounce.

It seemed she was cursed to always be the giver, to never know the joy of receiving. Just once she wanted to experience that.

Then she remembered the Man in the chemist shop. She had been so caught up in her panic and the stress of getting the drugs Anna needed that she had not noticed his helping hand. Indeed she had mistaken it for a threat. At that moment she noticed the white fella passing the house, wasn’t that him? She cried out “Hey whitey where you going? Come and have a smoke with me”

The children looked at him. One little girl raised a leg and rested it on the other just above the knee, standing on one leg like a black swan.

He didn’t know whether to stop or keep going but she called again plaintively “Come here white fella” He turned and looked at her.

Beckoning him with her left arm “Come and say hello to my Anna” she tried. He wasn’t sure if he should but his legs moved independently of his mind. He entered the yard and the girls took a step back to put some distance between them and him. It was very rare to see a white man in this place unless it was for no good.

He approached the woman as she struggled to stand up. She literally climbed up the door jam, wobbling and unsteady on her legs. She held on to the door jam as though the house was part of her support system. “Come in” she said in a horse voice. Her voice was rough and she spoke with a heavy Aboriginal accent.

Inside the house he was assaulted by the smell. It was dark and the smell permeated everything. It was a cocktail of dirt, stale cooking smells, shit from the unflushed black toilet and damp mould. It made him gag and shiver.

The Man Meets Anna

The girl was on what passed for a bed, sitting up.

“She ain’t slept for two days” said the woman as if she was talking to a doctor “she think she won’t wake up”.

He moved to the bed. “Hello Anna”

“’lo” she said in a quite voice “Who you?”

“I’m a friend of your mama’s”.

“No you ain’t! She ain’t got no white friends” There was no anger in her statement, it was a mere matter of fact.

Her straight forward no nonsense reply startled him. He made to sit on the bed.

“You can sit on that chair” she said pointing to a dilapidated arm chair. He pulled it closer to the bed and sat down. Her body was thin and weightless but her eyes shone like black pearls.

“You goin’ to hurt my mommy?” she asked in that matter of fact voice.

“No, not at all. I just came here to say hello to you. Your mummy told me all about you when I met her in town. How old are you?”

“I, thirteen” She looked as though she was nine or ten.

“Did you really come to see me?” she asked looking at him doubtfully but with a slither of hope.

“Yes, I did”

And so started the conversation between the man who had lost all reason to live and the girl who would not die.

They talked for hours as the mother watched. She had never been able to talk with her daughter like this. How could this man know so many words? Will he never run out of stories? She was happy for the first time in years. Anna slowly accepted him, welcomed him as the dad she had desired for so long. Although it had never crossed her mind that he would be white!

Anna asked questions and finished some of his sentences.

She called him a liar, she called him a clown and finally she called him over.

What Is Truth?

“I ain’t never had a dad” she confided as though it were a precious secret. “Can I sit on your lap?”

“Of course you can my darling”. He leaned over and kissed her forehead as he slid his arms under her; shocked by how light she was he imagined her as a human feather.

As he lifted her she wound her arms around his neck and said in a low sleepy voice “daddy”.

The Man sat in the chair and the woman covered them with a smelly blanket that offended his nose. But it was warm and she laid it on them with love and tenderness.

“Tell me more stories Daddy” she whispered. He thought of another little girl who once said the same thing. If only he had known then that while stories are infinite the time for telling them is limited.

As he spoke she hugged him so hard that he worried that she would hurt her fragile arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and said in a low urgent voice “keep talking” “Yes my darling” he said. The tears were streaming down his face but he could not free his hands to rub them away.

“If I go to sleep will you wake me up?”

“Yes my darling I will wake you up” he lied.

For the first time in days she felt confident enough to close her eyes. She felt so lucky to find her daddy just when she needed him. She loved him tenderly and without reservation.

As he sat holding her in his arms, his inactivity gave him no way to hide from the nagging thoughts he usually avoided by keeping busy. When he was young and even when he was a rising star in the business world, he was confident he knew who he was, what he needed to make him happy and satisfied.

Truth or Myth? A Future with No Future

But life has a way of whisking the ground out from under the feet of unwary travellers and laughing at them as they fall into chaos. When you lose all hope for tomorrow you realise how important and yet how difficult it is to believe in a tomorrow. Worse, you come to hate it. Every day is today. Like standing between two mirrors, you see the future but it is just a repetition of today, through to infinity. Is that it? Is the future inevitable and unchangeable? But you don’t ask because you are a coward and whatever the answer it will require you act one way or the other and you are not sure you have what it takes to implement either course.

He felt the girl nestle deeper into his arms and make her head comfortable on his chest. She had no doubt; her daddy had come to her as she knew he would. She revelled in the knowledge that her truth was indeed the truth. No matter what anyone said, it was her life and it was up to her to give it meaning for surely, if life is not given meaning, it has none.

Anna’s Last Dream

The rhythm of his strong heartbeat filled her head with music and her mother was the conductor. The composition rose and fell and like the waves of the ocean she had once seen. It surrounded her and engulfed her. She knew the melody for she was the composer and together, she and he and her mother,  they created a grand symphony.

Out of the mist she could see a great procession winding its way through the woods. She was seated in an open carriage preceded by kangaroos and wallabies; there were koala bears waving eucalypt branches and three proud emus marching in step and lots of other animals, hob goblins and children playing flutes and beating tin drums.

The trees waved at her and the birds sang a great chorus that was a fitting welcome for a princess. She was coming home. Strangely she felt very happy and slowly allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep.

The Man cried and the woman sat sobbing at his feet. Good night my darling. He reached out and held the woman’s hand and they cried together and knew that their life had been touched.


YouTube DirektThe Forest Sings for Little Anna

The Chapters So Far:

The Man Chapter 1

The Man Chapter 2

The Man Chapter 3

Read an Analysis of Each Chapter – The Philosophy and Ideas behind the Story

Analysis of The Man Chapter 1

Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

A Readers Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

Pre Analysis Background Information for The Man Chapter 3

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Category: Kitchen Sink Philosophy, Practical Philosophy, The Man  Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,  
605 Responses
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The Man – Chapter 1 The Town

The Man

working Title

The road into town was long, straight and dusty. The kind of road you knew would lead to no where special and the reward for arriving was less than his lowest expectations.

Good.

He spat the word out though there was no one to hear it.

First order of business he thought, get some headache tablets. He had been driving for a long time. How long? He had no idea.

He found a chemist shop, entered and stood behind an Aboriginal woman who was swearing at the chemist. She was wearing an old beanie, yellow with green strips interrupted with holes where a moth had carelessly eaten the line and part of the yellow. Her jacket was an equally old and shabby track suit top that had once been colourful but was now as faded as the jaded look on her face.

“I’ll get me money in a few days but she needs this shit now. Don’t be a bastard all your life. You know she needs it”

Being a shopkeeper in a country town is not as straight forward as it is in the city. When the countryside has been in drought for years and the bank and the post office closed down yonks ago, they are the de facto bank, credit agency, Para-psychologist, social worker and when all else fails; whipping boy.

His face was ……….. impassive. He looked like he wasn’t really there. Where was he right now?

On a beach? No, that’s not his style.

In the garden pulling weeds with a ferocity that he couldn’t bring to work? Maybe.

In the TAB (the ubiquitous betting shop) listening to his horse running a poor race as usual. It didn’t even have the grace to come last. Just one of the pack, like him, ordinary, average, never a winner but not a complete loser either.

“G’on you bastard, you couldn’t deliver milk on time” he would shout to no one in particular. In the betting shop he is one of the boys, he doesn’t lose too much and he always has a funny quip to make when his horse loses. Yes this was his favourite place, the place he goes to in his mind.

The argument went back and forth and the man’s headache was pounding. He stepped forward, “excuse me”

“Piss off” she spat at him.

“Look maybe I can help”

“Oh yea of course. Who the fuck are you. The cops?”

“No” he said hurt. What’s the problem?” He looked at the chemist

“She already owes me more than the money she gets on benefits and now she wants more. I don’t get this stuff for free to distribute to the bloody community” he said. “I have to buy it and pay for it” he said looking at the woman.

“What does she want?” the man said

“Oh, morphine for pain, sleeping tablets, and some heavy shit that costs a fortune”

“Is it for her?”

“No, for her kid”

“Look I’ll pay for it” the man said as the woman looked at him suspiciously. “What do you want?” she asked accusingly. “Like a bit of black do you?”

“No” he answered meekly.

“Oh, your a racist. Black not good enough for you your majesty” she made every word a dagger and threw them all at him with as much brutality as she could muster. She hated the world and right now she hated the two of them the most.

The woman snatched the medicine from the chemist’s outstretched hand. She showed no sign of gratitude. She needed it and they had it but they didn’t need it. Why shouldn’t he pay for it? He’s white and haven’t they caused us black fellas enough trouble. He’s got the money to buy the stuff but he doesn’t need it. She needs it but has no money. “It’s a shit world. If you don’t take what you can get, you don’t deserve it” that was her considered opinion.

She walked out of the shop, her head high. She had got the drugs her daughter needed. It was an unexpected win; you never get anything if you don’t try she thought. The woman, who could have been thirty but looked more like fifty headed home. Along the way she wondered, would her daughter miss just one vial of the morphine? She deserved some too, wasn’t she hurting as well? Why shouldn’t she have just one hit to help her cope.

The man turned to the chemist, “What’s wrong with her daughter?” he asked.

“Cancer” the chemist said. That one word tells the whole story, it is the one word in the English language that is guaranteed to send shivers down your back. It speaks of pain and terror, of sleepless nights and worry filled days. It recounts a tale of hopelessness, of going into battle with spears to fight an enemy that arrives in Planes and rides on tanks.

“How bad is it?” he asked. “Pretty bad. I’m surprised she is still alive. Sometimes I think she just hangs on so I go broke supplying her drugs” the chemist joked. “I don’t want you to think I’m heartless but if I give in too easy, I’ll have the whole lot of ‘em in here demanding free drugs. I’m not the national health system you know”. He said defensively.

The man asked how much the drugs cost. He pulled out his credit card and told the chemist to bill the drugs to his card. He asked him not to tell the woman. “And don’t go crazy with it, I’m not rich but whatever she really needs, just put it on this” he handed the chemist his card.

The chemist shrugged, took down the details while the man swallowed a couple of headache tablets the chemist gave him and washed them down with a plastic cup of water. They looked at each other, no words passed between them but there was a mutual understanding that from now on they shared the burden.

The man left without looking back.

He walked through the drab sun burnt town now descending into the cold dreary months of winter. It was quite empty other than the shopkeepers, two drivers in the garage getting petrol and some mothers pushing strollers aimlessly window shopping and talking to their children who had already learned not to listen.

He felt hungry and seeing a supermarket he decided to buy some supplies. He did a modest shopping and took it to the check out. “Do you take credit cards” he asked. “Sure” came the brief but not unfriendly reply. He handed his card over and waited.

“It’s declined” she said looking at him with a frown. “Do you have another one?”  “No” he replied almost dreamily. “Do you want to pay with cash?” she asked summing him up in her practiced way. “No not now, I’ll come back later”

He knew it wouldn’t take long but he had hoped the card would last a little longer.

He sighed. Looked for his car and when he saw it he walked towards it. For a few brief seconds he had a sense of purpose, he knew where he was going but as soon as he arrived it disappeared and he felt emotionally drained.

Read a review of the ideas behind this chapter

To Be Continued …………

The Chapters So Far:

The Man Chapter 1

The Man Chapter 2

The Man Chapter 3

Read an Analysis of Each Chapter – The Philosophy and Ideas behind the Story

Analysis of The Man Chapter 1

Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

A Readers Analysis of The Man Chapter 2

Pre Analysis Background Information for The Man Chapter 3

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Confronting the Future-Part 2

Go to part 1

Is Craig Venter a God?

If we pray to God because “he created us”, who should the species we create pray to?

God Creating Life at his Computer

God Creating Life at his Computer

Scientists may say we don’t need to answer that while we are creating microbes but what happens when we develop the ability to string together the code for 3 billion bases and produce our first “human”?

However, long before we create a human from scratch we will have developed the ability to genetically modify babies. Who is the God when we engineer a fetus to produce children to order or for a specific purpose? This question is just as relevant if you have the technology available to do it, but choose not to do it as it is, if you use the technology to do it.

At What Point Do You Become God?

So the question arises, when do you become a God? Is it when you create a single cell life form or must you wait until you have created a complex human life form? Or is there some half way point at which this event happens? I find it hard to justify making a distinction between the point where we create single cell life and a complex one.

The question is not merely one of hypothetical speculation any more. The science is here, the technology just needs to be refined.

Discovery Channel Video – Craig Venter – Good explanation of Genetic modification


What will be the position of species, especially complex species that are created by man to serve his needs? Whatever we call them, will they be slaves?

Apart from all the economic arguments regarding why slavery is not an efficient way to organize an economy, the ethical argument against slavery was basically that all men were created equal in the eyes of God. If we assume there is a God, then no matter who creates the species, it is still created under God’s auspices. Therefore the answer must be that they have equal rights. Of course that argument could equally apply to animals.

Is It Ethically Acceptable to Make A Slave?

But if we prove that life was created by a one in a billion chance chemical reaction does that change the position of man verses animals or vis-à-vis a species specifically created by man?

March of the slaves

March of the slaves

A long held belief in God has not endowed animals or the many disadvantaged humans, with equal rights, so what will happen when we take God out of the equation? Is it ethically acceptable that if man has the ability to create a form of human that is genetically programmed to serve mans needs, that he should do so? Will we regard this species as human, animal or android? Should it make any difference?

What if that species looks human, breathes air like us, has a human life span and dies like us? If it eats, feels pain and bleeds like a human? What if it has feelings? Is it ethical to produce a species that has a brain and can learn but is genetically programmed to be a servant or a soldier or a baby maker?

In this experiment Venter’s team injected synthetic DNA into a living cell and watched it take over that cell and ultimately wipe out the previous DNA. The cell then turned blue which the new DNA was programmed to do when it took control of the cell.

The aim is that one day we can inject DNA into a cancer cell and watch it self destruct. That would be good. How would we feel about injecting a male with DNA code and watch him turn into a female or vice-versa? Some would prefer this to the current situation which requires surgery and drugs to achieve a partial solution.

The options are endless but at what point are they the person God created or the person Craig created? Or do we do away with the notion of God?

Bad With God – What Will We Be Like Without?

In this increasingly secular world some would say that it doesn’t matter if you take God out of the equation, but until we can formulate a better foundation for an effective ethical and moral code we should not rush to throw out the old. Archimedes said it eloquently when he cried “Give me somewhere to stand and I shall move the earth”. Unfortunately secular humanists have yet to create a philosophy anywhere near as motivating as a faith in God which can move mountains.

This is the challenge that we now face, to find a philosophy that can move men to put their own self interest aside for the benefit of all mankind that can give them a basis on which to build an ethical moral code to live by and still give them enthusiasm for life.

Unfortunately, even as believers in God, we have still not reached a philosophical position of full equality among all members of the human race as we know it, so how will we incorporate these new man made species when they come. And they will come, the only question is when?

My prediction is that our attempt to address these issues will have consequential effects on our views about race, human equality, the rights of women and children, minorities and even animals.

This debate could be the impetus that we have needed from the beginning to approach a world view that is more encompassing, fair and compassionate for all.

But it will probably mean that we never get that slave, or, maybe, that once again, more people will be in danger of becoming one.

When it comes to making the important decisions that will impact our future our track record so far is etsy ketsy at best.

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