Who Knew Plato was a Feminist?!

Through the mouths of idiots, Plato proselytizes about his release from an unenlightened cave of personal prejudice and bad opinion. He chooses the weakest male of any given philosophy 101 litter, creeping into their psyche as if Satan whispering into the mind’s ear: “You shall truly know as others will never understand. Even those around you, sitting in the very same philosophy class, cannot truly hear as you, favored one, the holy word of the master. Look at them, taking notes like the plebs they are! The fate of humanity rests solely on your shoulders. Eat of the fruits of my labor. Release these fools from their prisons. Show them what it means to really think, else they shall never find truth! You shall be the way and the light, itself – just as your mother prophesied!” And without deviation, every single time, he seizes control of his victim; who dashes to the first woman they can find in order to begin their life long mission as the epitome of sage-hood. And here is where Plato’s genius truly emerges: the idiot becomes for her an embodied example of life within the cave, and she thinks to herself and for herself, “Let me not be like this idiot and assume without even thinking to stop and ask that everyone around me is trapped in an unenlightened cave of their own, or society’s making.” She then begins her life long, inward journey of philosophical self-reflection in the proper manner of examining her assumptions so as to not look-a-fool; so as to condition wisdom in a world known by others (duh).

You Down with LCP?

Yeah, you know me! Sup, readership? So I’m starting a non-profit called the Lawn Chair Philosophy Foundation which provides philosophical resources to those who would otherwise have little access to such material. It’s a pretty broad notion, and more about the specifics can be found here :

http://www.lcpfoundation.wordpress.com

This foundation brings to life the spirit of Lawn Chair Philosophy through an outreach program which donates philosophical works to homeless shelters, half-way houses, impoverished schools, etc.; and which develops courses to guide readers through a rigorous program that is both fun and efficient. But what is the spirit of Lawn Chair Philosophy? It would make little sense to bog the foundation’s website down with heavy, impenetrable treatises, so I am creating space in this post to develop the idea of Lawn Chair Philosophy while my studies and practice evolve. Officially speaking, I have thus far the following:

Lawn Chair Philosophy is a method of inquiry, as well as a theory of general ontological emergence, based upon a Nietzschean radicalization of Edmund Husserl’s phenomenological spirit and inner-time consciousness; and which focuses on the constitutive interrelations between pure and experiential ratios. Its expression is rhythmic in nature, and it has for its directed object the rhythmic emergence of meaningful subjective experience.

Obviously, there is yet much, much, much upon which to expound – so stay tuned and keep checking back for more information!

Lawn Chair Philosophy also represents through its own icon a reaction to an academic diaspora, of sorts, where the institutional structures intently occasioning authentic philosophical research are crumbling amidst our dwelling. Some philosophers are able to thrive in the barren deserts of the once lush academy while resisting devolutionary trends towards foul scavengers. However, myself and others are not yet properly familiar with the terrain enough to accomplish such a feat (and are admittedly wont to be pampered with more than mere dry air, besides). In response, we shall collect ourselves in a traveling tabernacle of our own making by situating our reflections in a chair that moves with us, lifting our own tent of mysteries, positioning our chairs in a circle, just and right, such that we may command of the human spirit philosophical unity for ourselves; us disparate, disjointed wretches in desperate need of catharsis.

Philo Mouths Off in Gym Class

Points aren’t born –
They’re made
Composed of grit, iron, and sweat
And mud
And illusory determinants
What’s the point
In this list of claims?
The point
Lies in the index fangle
Dangle wangle
Diddly doo
The truth for me
Is the truth for you
Rise from the start
From no apparent reason
No matter the season
The spirit embodied
Is a truth much obliged
Whyyyyyy?
Because the cause is right
Before your eyes!
Oh
Ohhhhhh!
I see!
I see!!
I see!!!
Psshhhhh
Betch, please.

She Always was Swept Away, Steppin’ in that Same Damn River . . .

In the ash which kept its form
She wept plump droplets of vision
The remains of which were lost
In the dust of constant decay
None heard her cries
Yet we all saw
We all knew
For our hearts were moved in unison
We sank as she fell from her own eyes
And we rose when her patience ran thin
And we felt from afar what we could not touch:
A purpose lost without a scene.
There was nothing anyone could do
Nothing anyone could say
For how do you guide one who never listens?
Alas, no promise holds
As well as the ash which kept its form
And she returned to it time after time
Till time became without suspension