And so we stand, at the edge of the world.
Faceless, peerless, without compare,
The eschaton looms…
A blessed anticipation
fills the mirror of our mind
with joy and gladness.
The tones of this world-symphony,
are opaque and pregnant
with the future.
The past beckons us
forth into time
and we must obey.
In the end the last
shall come first
and the first last.
Julius peered across the portico, thinking about how his father once walked these very same steps across this very same quad. He wished he could have known his father, but he was swallowed up in the gaping hole of the past. There, there was nothing, just a void of memory and the ashes of days gone by.
Nothing could bring him back to Julius, who only remembered, and thus felt, the warm touch of his father’s somber hands for a few brief moments. He was four; his father forty-seven: the heart attack struck like lightning, beginning the emancipation of his…
Emerging in our contemporary discourse on race and prejudice are two polarized views on racism: one, frequently espoused in certain circles on the left, is that racism is an inherently structural, systemic phenomenon that exists within society regardless of the intentions or psychologies of those who inhabit society. The other view, prevalent on the right, is that racism is entirely contingent on and defined by the individual intentions and psychologies of those who inhabit society. …
“I used to think I’d become something, too.”
These were the last words I heard coming from my grandfather’s mouth. He had had terminal cancer for the last ten years, and one morning he decided to finally kick the bucket. Why were these his last words? I often asked myself that question, to no avail. Perhaps as a check against my foolhardiness? A warning against my overbearing ambition? A prediction; a foul omen for my own future?
The breeze outside was cold, like the ghostly chill of my grandpa’s corpse. The furnace in the living room emitted a bright, fiery…
I find myself constantly vacillating between the search for good, new, contemporary music, usually in the indie rock vein, and returning back once more to the fertile lands of Western art music (i.e. ‘classical’ music). This is a frustrating cycle, because I so desperately yearn to find new acts that are worth listening to — that can become a healthy obsession. But alas, this is rarely ever the case.
What is it about the coronavirus that is uniquely distressing and a cause for particular alarm? Why should we react so drastically and radically to this threat? What are the existential implications of living in the midst of such a crisis (and in the midst of the ever-worsening ecological crisis)?
Some answer to these questions may lie in the distinction between problem and mystery as elucidated by philosopher Gabriel Marcel. In a critical analysis of Marcel’s work, Clyde Pax describes the nature of a problem like so:
A problem is some question that confronts a person, that stands in the…
Sanity is a funny thing. It is the bedrock of society — yet it is so fragile. It can be lost at a moment’s notice, and may be near impossible to restore.
In light of that reality, it is incredibly important that we strive to the utmost to retain our sanity in the midst of this crisis. We cannot allow our fear, anxiety, or panic to dictate the responses we make. We must be clear-headed, calm, and supple — able to quickly and decisively react to changes in a dynamic situation that is frankly unpredictable. …
We face a crossroads in our country, and in our world. Either we can acquiesce to the status quo, to the powers-that-be, to those who wish to hoard wealth and resources at the expense of the rest of the world—and I don’t simply mean the people who inhabit this world, but the world itself — or we can fight back. Are we ready to sacrifice the well-being of future societies simply for short term gain, or to refuse to stand up to the most powerful out of moral cowardice? This is the question our time demands we all ask ourselves.
Oh, the heights we darker ones may have reached,
the flights we might have taken,
the hitherto untrod paths we could have revealed,
the adventures we should have been able to embark upon.
Instead we got burning crosses,
nooses fitted around our necks;
death staring straight at us —
through the eyes of those who hate.
Yet even when our backs were broken,
our spirit stayed unbroken.
Even when our dignity was raped,
dignified still we remained.
Will there ever be a future
of freedom for us darker ones?
One where we too may disclose
the great mystery of human nature?
It has been revealed
that we will, in the hereafter;
but never at the expense
of liberty here and now!
I often hear from people in my generation (the infamous millennials) that, given the current state of the climate, we are beyond doomed. It’s too late; we’ve polluted the air with enough greenhouse gas for anything to be done that could prevent total cataclysm. The planet will approach an uninhabitable condition, potentially within our lifetimes, but almost certainly within those of our children and grandchildren. In short, we are hopeless.
This attitude embodies the most insidious kind of fatalism, defeatism, and nihilism. Not only does it paint an inaccurately bleak outlook for the future of the climate (which, to be…