Radical Skepticism

I have been in such a conversational funk lately. I do not know how much I want to publicly write on the subject but I do feel like its bothering me enough to at least make a brief comment.

I have the distinct privileged and absolute horror of being friends with some wonderful and philosophically minded people.

I take issue with this: there is no way I can defend myself, and really my belief in God, against radical skepticism and this sort of analytical thinking that has gripped academics of the west.

I have heard the chair analogy used trancontinentally this week and while I do not want to denounce the value of such a question it is hard, maybe impossible, to reach out of our own existence to evaluate such a thing. Case and point: on some level, to have a conversation about a chair… we need to have an experience with a chair and find value in the preservation of its memory.

I can’t ball park it. Statistics like this are always wrong… but I would say that for most part human being’s existence does not revolved around the speculation of furniture.

What does it mean to be human? Well, I don’t know. I cannot say much of anything with out sounding like a religious relativist (I believe that is what I was called?)

The only working thesis I have is that each person is plopped down in a particular place and then, at some point and time, is asked to make sense of his or her own existence.

Radical skepticism… sure, I guess I can hear you out. But the fact of the matter is… everything idea and theory is a construct that can be broken down or proven wrong.

Absolute truth… if philosophers have found it… stop discussing it and making every one else’s life a living hell.

I doubt, therefore I am.

Fine… I guess. But taken to the extreme and you have nothing. You are either forced to believe that there is no meaning in this world or to live a hypocritical life.

Anger. For Sure.

Do I care?


Speculation grows but I do know that I do not want to be anything like you.


~ by kmconrad on May 4, 2009.

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