Contributing to the Delinquency of the World

This morning I woke up afraid. Afraid that I was contributing to the delinquency of the world. Afraid that by writing these blogs I was somehow encouraging thirty-five year old men to remain in their parents' basements eating Cheetos and trying to learn the nuances of Elvish as they modify the light saber they bought on Ebay. Afraid that there are little kids out there who are getting obese reading my blog instead of playing outside in the fresh air. Afraid that the world just got a little stupider because of my contribution. Afraid. For twenty four years I've prided myself on the fact that I contribute to what is good, virtuous, and desirable in this world. But now, I look in the mirror and wonder what I've become. A blogger. A faceless website pouring my refuse into the polluted hyperspace stream. I could blog about anything I want, and I chose to communicate the convoluted thoughts of my inner mind. What does that say about me? It says I'm a contributor. I'm contributing to the delinquency of the world.

The Human Factory

My wife is a human factory. Right now, inside of her a human is being manufactured. I came to work one day, did my part on the assembly line and now, nearly forty weeks later the project is almost complete. My wife is a human factory. Think of it!

Is this Philosophy?

A friend is listening to a lecture series on philosophy from Harvard. He’s made his way through Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. He’s an electrician with narcolepsy who doesn’t read because it puts him to sleep. Instead he listens. Is this philosophy?
On Thursdays we meet at a local diner for the BBQ beef ribs special. Four massive ribs, mashed potatoes, vegetable of the day, Texas toast, and iced tea, all for $5.25. Makes you wonder how McDonalds can stay in business. We sit and talk about form, thought, matter, life, and ribs. Is this philosophy?
My friend is old enough to be my dad. In ghetto generations he’s old enough to be my grandpa. He listens to philosophy because he’s tired of listening to fiction, talk radio, sports, music, and silence. But is that really why he listens? I told him the other day that Plato’s most famous line was one that Plato attributed to Socrates, “The Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living.”
He said, “Really, I thought Descartes said that!”
“No,” said I, “I think Descartes said, ‘I think therefore I am.’”
“Oh,” says my friend. “I think Descartes got it backwards. I would say, ‘I am therefore I think.’”
“You’re probably not the first one to say that,” I replied. Is this philosophy?