The Phil. Notebook Pt. 1

This is the first post of my Philosophers Notebook blog project and if you don't know what that means then go to the blog post right before this one. Hopefully that will clear things up.



Can humans ever experience the world objectively?

 My initial thought is no, of course not. We are individuals who were born as certain people or beings. This fact alone makes it seem impossible for anyone to see the world objectively. We only know the world as we see it through our own personal eyes. I suppose one may be "better" at attempting to see the world in an objective view when compared to someone who never attempted to, but even those attempts are futile because it just simply is impossible for an individual to see the world objectively. I italicize individual and objectively because they are not able to come together and form a truth. There is no world where an individual can be objective on anything.

What happens to us after we die?

On a good day, we just disappear and don't exist. On a bad day, maybe just maybe there is some higher power that lets us continue living in some way or another. I say that because on good days I have no reason to sugar coat any of my beliefs because I am feeling good and don't care much. If it is a bad day, it naturally makes me feel slightly better thinking about how there could be something after death. But I would say in general that I have no fucking clue what happens when we die. Why stress about it. I'm alive right now. I will deal with death when I die.

How free are we?

This isn't a main topic for me currently. I would say that we all have free will because if I wanted to set my house on fire and then drive away in my truck right this minute, I could. Would some people say that if I did that then it was meant to be? I guess. At the same time that I believe in free will, I think about how many people are alive and how we are somehow all living our individual complex lives without everyone getting in everyone else's way.

Does life have meaning?

We covered this in my philosophy class that I took at IUP last semester. I actually emailed my professor about this very topic and he told me some incorrect information about my beliefs. I will copy and paste what I wrote to him about my view on meaning of life: I fully agree that life is absurd. I've accepted for years now that life is meaningless and any meaning there is in a life, is created by that person. I can understand why some may find that depressing or debilitating but I think it is actually pretty awesome that we are able to control what has meaning for us personally. This belief that life is absurd was first proposed to me years ago and it didn't take long for me to fully believe it. I think that most people are simply too afraid to accept it, and that that is for the better. If everyone accepted that life was absurd and meaningless, society would fall apart and everything would become chaotic. It takes a certain type of person to understand that life is absurd while also continuing to function like a normal citizen in society. As you just mentioned about sitting in a coffee house smoking long cigarettes all day long, I don't believe that an existentialist needs to do that. I try hard to always do what I want to do or at least do what I know will help me get to doing what I want to do. I have always tried to put meaning towards doing what I want to do because why waste a life not striving to do what you truly want to do?

Is the universe intelligible?

I don't know what that is asking. Like for the life of me I can't think of a good response to this question. Maybe later on I will come back and answer this one. Maybe not.

More Posts Coming Soon...

Yooo. It's Jake Gregan here again for the first time in a long while. No one reads these things because like why would they? It's just one dudes free blog on a generic blog website. The blog design is as if it was made in 2006 and I don't plan on changing it anytime soon. But with that said, I don't give a shit if anyone reads this or not because I am doing this for myself. I have missed writing this type of thing and apparently I am decent at expressing my thoughts, so I figured why not keep going. Oh yeah, I use commas way too much in fear that I will forget to use them when they are actually needed.

This is sort of like an intro post so I don't care much about how this sounds.

I went to a Barnes & Noble bookstore today (who knew those were still a thing!!) and kinda just mindlessly walked around for a half hour. By the way that parenthetical text was fake and clearly I wouldn't really write that. It is the lamest style of writing. It's like mom text. Imagine a mom of 3 kids writing a blog about her weekend fun trip and typing that parenthetical text while laughing to herself thinking how clever and funny she is. All of that ideally would be assumed by the reader already because when I have to explain my train of thought it ruins the whole point of why I wrote it. But yeah I walked around browsing books until I settled on a wilderness survival book and some road trip  guides. Then I found a proper seat near the Starbucks cafe (please don't sue me for using the brand name!!) and sat for around 5 minutes. I didn't really read during those minutes and just sort of waited for the perfect moment to stand up and go in line for my white chocolate mocha and sugar cookie. Is that normal? I very easily could have just went right to the line and stood behind a man who was having a prolonged conversation with one of the baristas and got my order, but instead I sat and waited until there was only one person in line and it was an elder lady. I did this so I wouldn't feel an urge to chit chat with the worker since he just got done talking to that dude. I guess I kinda give in to my social anxiety but at the same time, I did go up there and get my stuff with no issues. So I don't think I have any super insane issues with anxiety which is good for my future endeavors.

After I got my coffee and cookie I sat back down and read through the steps of starting a fire without any matches. Now that I think about it, it is almost humorous of me to do that because I will never have to know how to be able to do that, plus even after looking at those colorful pictures of sticks and cordage, if I was told to go to the woods and make a fire, there would be no way in hell that I would be successful. But at this point I got bored and looked at the road trip guides, which was a nice change of pace for about 5 minutes. This is the point where I realized that I have no idea what I am going to do with my life and that I have no proof or evidence that I can excel at any type of career. So while I am browsing through the "Hobbies/Craft" section of this Barnes & Noble, I am simultaneously questioning my life choices and trying to figure out what I want to focus my life goal on. That sentence was meant to show the funny/sad image of a lone man of big stature walking in a bookstore thumbing through a "Collecting Model Planes" book while trying to determine the biggest decision of his life. Long story short I found one book that I ended up buying which I will go into more detail about near the end of this extremely long and most likely boring post.

I got a summer job which is good. I have tried decently hard for years now to get a job in Oxford and for the majority of the time I completely failed at that. I got a job in USC and two jobs in IUP but if you ask my friends they would say they aren't "real" jobs. But now it's different, I have an actual job. I am going to be a camp counselor at the YMCA for 11 weeks. For anyone who knows me they know that this is the perfect job for me. I am always a positive, happy go lucky, extroverted guy! Nah, not really. I applied for the job, got an interview, read the dude interviewing me and told him the answers that I knew he wanted to hear from me, and a week later, got a call saying I got the gig. I don't have an urge to write much about the new job except that I have gotten through almost all of the orientation type trainings and am actually looking forward to the actual camp. I just hope it isn't a complete mess like it apparently was last year, but if it is, then I will just get fired or quit and then apply for other jobs.

I transferred colleges. I'm unsure if I wrote a blog post about that but I did and I am not yet ready to write freely on that topic because I don't think my mind is prepared for it. "I am happy at IUP and happy with my college choices so far." <---- That is a bullshit sentence and whenever I think about college and my past choices my head hurts and I don't feel good. I will deal with that soon enough, but alas, I will go on another day in blissful ignorance and just enjoy the summer sun while I can.

Okay I think that is enough for this post. Earlier I mentioned that I bought one book at the store and that I'd go into more detail about it later on in the post. This is the time where I will do that. It is called "The Philosopher's Notebook: A Creative Journal for Thinkers and Philosophers." Pretentious as shit right? I don't think any legit philosopher would buy this 8 dollar bargain book. This book essentially gives you little mini lessons on some of philosophies most basic beliefs and theories and then gives you writing prompts based on your thoughts towards those theories. I plan on reading through the book and answering those questions on new blog posts instead of writing it down in the book. I guess one could call it a writing project of sorts, but I would just say that it is a way of forcing me to think and form opinions on some deep topics that are important to dwell upon in life.

Alright I just thought of more things to write about right now but I gotta just end it here and then move on to the first post on the philosophy book prompt series of blog posts.


Jg


ps: here is a post that I just found a draft of which I wrote a few months ago.

         I went to USC last semester. This means that I traveled a very far distance many times in order to get to there. Without going into too many details, I spent most of that semester counting the days till i got to visit home. I was alone for months and failed completely at making any good friends. I stayed home every weekend and was completely on my own. I was not who I am when I am in front of people. It was a huge learning experience for me and it forced me to become alright with living my life completely on my own. Anyways, the week before I would go home always flew by because I was so excited. Then comes friday night where I pack my carry on and set my alarm for 6 am in order to get to the shuttle at 6:30. That shuttle ride was always packed with people who were blatantly hungover and sick but I didn't give a shit. I was going home. I always got to the airport and quickly made it to the self check in. By the last few trips, I was able to do it in my sleep. Then I would prepare for my least favorite part, the security. I would be constantly checking my pockets to see if i left some sort of metal in them. After successfully getting through the TSA I would get this rush that I have never felt anywhere else. I'd always pull out my phone and snapchat me walking on that conveyor belt thing that people walk on. I always had at least 2 hours before my flight and would love walking around and eventually settling in and buying an overpriced sandwich that tasted like mush. I watched the planes take off and land over and over and it never ceased to amaze me. I love my time in the airport the most because of its atmosphere. Everyone around me has some reason or excuse to travel somewhere far enough where a plane is needed. Lots of "big moments" happen in airports like a kid saying goodbye to his dad who has just gotten through a rough divorce and needs to leave town, or a couple who is leaving each other for a long time because the girlfriend needs to go to visit her mom who is not doing well, and so on. There are very few "small moments" that go on in an airport. Finally it would be time to board the plane and I would quickly find my seat. It truly is an amazing thing, flying. I strap in my flimsy seatbelt and then look through the emergency packet because better safe than sorry. Then we begin to take off and I blast this one song right as we lift off and it gives me the most enormous jolt and then we are tilted upwards into the sky and everything is getting smaller. Eventually we land and I rush to see my smiling dad ready and waiting for me at the departures. Then I am home. It is an experience that I will always miss and have the urge to do again.

Hospital Cafeteria

Jake Gregan

Hospital Cafeterias 

I just now stumbled across a song that I hadn't listened to for years. The song does't matter nearly as much as the experience that it takes me back to. My father had back surgery a few years back, and my mother and I anxiously waited in the waiting room for hours on end. The surgery went well. I am attempting to write this well enough but I just can't. I am unable to put my thoughts down onto paper and express them the way they deserve to be expressed. My memory from that day was dark. Everything about that hospital in Philly, one of the best in the country, was covered in this dark film that made everything just seem a little off. After saying our goodbyes to my dad, we went down to the waiting room and took our seats. This waiting room was very large and used for people in similar situations as ourselves. There were rows after rows of seats and in the center there was a desk with a few computers on it which the families could use if need be. We waited for what seemed like days until we decided to go to the hospital cafeteria. The hospital cafeteria is the most humanizing room that I have ever came across. We are all humans. All humans are animals. All animals need to eat. And that's exactly what the hospital cafeteria is made for. It has all sorts of interesting foods that I am naturally very attracted to, due to my appreciation for food and just liking places like that. But that's not what makes this large room so special. People who's wives are dying of a botched surgery, people who just found out their grandfather successfully made it through and is recovering well, people who have no idea about the fate of their loved ones, little children who are unable to comprehend the situation, yet they still know to not make a fuss. These are the people that you will see at a hospital cafeteria. Everyone needs to eat at some point in order to continue to survive. I remember walking into that cafeteria and being excited about ordering a meatball sub and wanting some sort of cookie or some shit, and then my mom said no and that the sandwich was enough. And that was that. I understood fully that we were there to eat out of necessity, not pleasure. When I opened up this blog I was not planning on talking so much about the cafeteria, but it all suddenly hit me as I began typing. And let me remind you that all of this is being provoked from just one simple song that I happened to be listening to during the time of the hospital visit. But anyway, back to the waiting room we went. At this time I was taking Honors Chemistry and I had a large test the next day, and was planning on studying for it during the time we waited. I didn't even attempt to take out my book until most of the crowd was gone from the room. All I could get myself to do was to listen to the same 4 songs on repeat for hours on end. The doctors occasionally came out and told us all was well and that it shouldn't be too long, which was a complete lie, but I didn't mind. At this point we had gotten up and moved over to a corner of the room which was not very crowded at all except for a few families. One of the families had a daughter that was my age, and for hours I thought about if I should go talk to her or do something about it. But she could have been there because of her moms tumor removal or something extremely intense. But if I used that as my excuse, that would be a lie. I knew I would never have the strength to go and talk to a girl in that situation. This isn't very important overall but I just remember that it was on my mind for so long as we waited. I overheard a group of people next to me saying that their sister was in surgery for some botched face lift and that it is just one of the many surgeries she will have to get eventually. Eventually we found out my dad was all good and we had a long ride home from Philly and I ended up getting like a C on that chem test, but like why does that matter in the long run at all. Jumping back to the cafeteria talk, I just looked into any info about how interesting hospital cafeterias were, and I couldn't find one damn article on it. It just is so amazing. Life. Ya know? And how such horrible things can happen to us, and yet at the end of the day, we still keep living by doing things like eating. You wouldn't ever consider to walk up to a person in line at the cafeteria and ask them how their day was doing. But that doesn't mean it has to be a hostile place. I remember when I was with my dads side of the family in a cafeteria while my uncle was in the ICU and hearing a woman sobbing in one corner of the large room. I remember my aunt came over to us and we all sorta joked around with each other about various things, despite being united and brought together over what seemed the inevitable death of my own uncle. (Luckily he recovered and all is well) But just the fact that humans as a species can joke during times of peril simply to make things seem more normal for just those initial seconds you only are focusing on laughing, is what is so amazing to me. That song is Secrets By Maroon 5 btw. I don't know how I got into it, and it is not a popular song. I remember reading my first complicated psychology book that I bought in Philly while my uncle was in ICU and reading it in the cafeteria and it was about the theory that what if we all were just brains in a jar. Everything around us was made up by our own imaginations and minds. I still fully believe that that is a possibility. Not so much the brains in jars, but just that everything around me is just made up by my own mind. It has stuck with me for so many years now. I will never not have that in the back of my head. I got it. The hospital waiting room day seemed like a dream to me. I have very vivid dreams and I could describe one of my most recent dreams even better than I did for the day I actually experienced. I am going to college for communications media and I love that stuff. But I don't think I can completely cut out psychology from the mix because this stuff is just so amazing to me and it seems like not everyone fully gets how insane it all is and they just say "yeah I agree thats cool/interesting" and then just keep going with their lives. That seems near impossible to me. To just keep living life without acknowledging and adjusting to those ideas and concepts. I live a fully functional life and have large plans in life but am able to occasionally realize the little things and appreciate how great and intriguing this world is that we live in. I haven't stopped typing since I started and I have no idea if any of this is understandable. I am laying in my dorm bed at USC which I will soon be leaving for good to go to IUP which I am looking forward to. I do not feel as if I am currently in my dorm but more so in my bedroom in Oxford where I feel the most comfortable I have ever been. And all of this just makes me put everything in perspective and it just is all so much. I don't know why I am writing this or for whom it is written for, but I guess that's not my job to figure out. I am not gonna go back and edit what I typed because I am a strong believer of steam of conscious writing and if I edit anything, I will be editing my raw ideas and beliefs. 

It

At approximately 12:20 AM on July 30th, it hit me.

The it in which I am speaking of, is nearly impossible to describe in just words. You see, in order to fully understand what "it" is, you need to experience it first handedly. "It" can range from the little curious feeling you get when buying a sheet for your dorm bed, to a memory of your mother coming in and calming you down during a stormy night. "It" is the nervous excitement that you feel when you go shopping for college supplies. "It" is recognizing a smell uncanny to the smell of your old friends house. "It" is hearing a tune that you used to listen to with your father while hanging out in the garage. "It" is the moment you realize that this upcoming year will be like no other year you've ever experienced. "It" is the feeling you get when you look around your room and accept that in a few weeks, you won't be able to go back. "It" is knowing you won't have anyone to constantly spoil you. "It" is the realization that you will not always be surrounded by people who love you unconditionally. "It" is recalling all the little things that mean the most to you. "It" is the moment you realize how lucky you are to have parents like yours. "It" is the sudden feeling or regret for not expressing your appreciation towards the best things that are in your life. "It" is when you realize that you are leaving everything that has been stable in your life, far behind. "It" is knowing that your parents love and care for you more than any two people ever could. "It" is the reassuring feeling received when you know that, no matter what, your family will be there for you. 

Thanks

Ideas and Thoughts Version 1

I have so many deep things I could be talking about right now, especially with prom just occurring. Instead of discussing the many confusing issues I am currently having, I would rather describe a few ideas and thoughts I have had lately.

• A blanket that can mute any loud sound. Like if a loud alarm is going off, and you placed this blanket on top of it, it would quickly and fully muffle the sound. Much more extreme than a normal blanket.
• What if gas stations had a promotional deal where after, lets say, 2 am, the gas prices go down by 5 cents. I am not sure how that would help a business, but it just seems like it would work out somehow.
• I recently went to a local carnival, and walked by a man who was aggravated and heated when he was "so close" to tossing a ring on top of a milk jug. This led to me realizing an interesting fact: It is more common for a person to "almost win" a carnival game, compared to straight up losing at the game. Like it is almost more impressive to have played a carnival game and not gotten close to winning at all. 

A little side note relating to the last bullet point:

I have ran this thought passed many friends and also my parents. Ross, my best friend, was next to me as I had the thought at the amusement park, and he found it very funny. My other friends found it pretty amusing, but a few of my friends and my parents, disagreed. Their response to it was simply "Well, that's how they get you!" or something along those lines. I personally can see Louie CK saying something along those lines and people cracking up laughing at it. 

Blog I Never Posted From A While Ago

I'd like to walk into English class one day and see that the quote on the board is from something I have said in one of these blogs. The issue is that I don't say things in the most quotable form. So I figured that if I wanted even the slightest chance of getting up on that board, I should make a list of quotes.

- Remember: Stud is only one letter away from being an STD
- No matter how bad today is, you will most likely live through thousands of other "todays" that are much better.
- I love myself.
- I am better than you, and You are better than I. He is better than Her, and Her is better than He.



I changed my mind. I suck at writing quotes. I do enjoy the first quote though. I guess the only thing left to do is to discuss why I don't talk during class.

I know that I have different views than most people in my class. Except maybe Alex Coleman, he seems to agree with a lot of the stuff I believe. I know that most of my views won't be very well accepted to be the truth to the majority of the class, and will then be bombarded with questions that I frankly don't want to answer. I can't really find the motivation that many people seem to have when it comes to changing peoples opinions. I could care less if I change anyones opinions into what I believe to be the truth. Why should I care?

The next reason I don't speak in class is because of my inability to publicly speak in classes that I don't feel completely comfortable in. I am what some may call a wallflower of the school. No one has anything bad to say about me, but not many people really know me more than that. I guess that is sort of an exaggeration, because I admit that I have my fair share of friends from tennis, band, and other activities. There is a large section of the senior class in which, throughout the many years, have never gotten to know. This is the section that puts me on edge. I believe strongly in social circles and the whole jock, preps, nerds, geeks, theory. My group of friends consist of a little bit of each group, which puts me in the middle of...

Fire Embers & Falling

I think fire embers are an amazing thing. I would like someone to write a poem about them. I can not be that person because I have never been good at poetry, it's too much work. Anyways, the poem would have to express how the embers are alive only long enough to see all the beauties of the world, while dying out before the harsh realities of the world beat them down. They are truly innocent, fire embers. They are almost a paradox because they are part of what creates the beauties of the world, while also being able to experience them. Just a little thought I had at a fire last night.

This blog post is for my March Blog Entry.

I have something interesting that happened to me that connects well to The Stranger. 

Everyone knows that Meursault is a little different than the average person. We also discussed the strange feeling of guilt that Meursault felt when he told his boss that he needed to have off for a few days.... in order to go to his own mothers funeral. This is where I sorta connect to Meursault in my personal life. A few days ago, my mom and I drove down to some shopping center in order to buy stuff for my dorm room. (COLLEGE IS SO CLOSE NOW. I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TO HAPPEN FOR 2 YEARS NOW. FINALLY!!!) On the way to the store, we drove by a dead cat on the side of the road. My mom felt really bad for it and its family, but I just couldn't get myself to feel bad about the whole ordeal. So many animals are killed, including pets. I am guessing it partially has to connect to the fact that I never had a cat, so I wouldn't understand. My mom claimed that it was strange of me to now get a little emotional about it, but life goes on. It was a nice trip other than that and I got some chill bed sheets. Flash forward to our drive home. We approach a turn on a backroad and an older man falls while push-mowing his front lawn. He simply does a little awkward tumble and sorta lands on the road. We then moved forward to see if he was okay and he did this little shimmy to get off the road. When we asked him if he was okay he said "gosh, now there's lotsa cars around me" and you could feel his embarrassment. He eventually got up and was fine, but that hasn't stopped me from constantly thinking about it. My mom and I tried to figure out why I felt so so so so so SO bad for that man, but we couldn't exactly figure it out. I just have this immense feeling of empathy for him even though he has already probably forgot all about it. 

I still can't figure out why something like this would effect me so greatly. It could be related to how "human" that incident was. It was just a pure thing that could have occurred to anyone. It was just so realistic. I am sorry if that doesn't make sense to anyone else, but the word realistic comes to my mind automatically when I think of the incident. It was a "raw" moment. Very harsh and true.

EDIT: Maddy Stillman was kind enough to actually write a poem about those fire embers. Here it is:

birthed in light and smoke

ardent and young to take

a first glance at the world

with eyes flickering across horizons;

bouncing from cloud to crown"

what roaring beauty to behold.

not yet tainted by fuel and fire

they cling to hope

darting in orange flickers

to make their escape

from innocent gaps in vision

unveiling feared divergence.

etched into sunsets:

burning cities

if their gaze would long to hold

but lights burn out

before the chance to crawl

on battered grounds.