on a wonderful thing.

To my God, regarding my cat, Atramentaceous.

As you do for all things, whatever
You hold every fiber of her being together, as if
She, in particular, is worthy of your attention.
She’s a cat, for Christ’s sake.
You invented Catness. You made Catness be what it is.
For in you all things live and move and have their being.

How is it that a manifestation of you is nothing other than
The quirkiness of a cat?
How is that you, in your unfathomable profundity
Made a tiny little being that purrs?

some of my students' answers.

Their fourth notecard question was:

“Do you think a statement can be true even if no human being knows it?”

Their answers (my comments in the brackets):

“Yes.”

“No.” [!]

“There is no correlation between truth and what we know, so yes.” [!]

“Of course: suppose nobody found out the world was sphere; it would still be true.”

[philosophy major]

“Yes because no” [?]

“Yes. There are truths that have not yet been developed enough to become knowledge.”

[I hate those underdeveloped truths!]

“Absolutely.”

“No, because for a statement to be true it should be well proven and widely accepted.”

[! ! !— absurd but interesting. What’s cool about this one is that for it to be true, it would itself have to be well proven and widely accepted, and assuming that the widespread disagreement (confusion) sampled above on this very question is not endemic to my two classes, this statement’s being true would imply that the statement is neither true nor false [or maybe just false?]. But that’s already assuming that the statement is well proven and widely accepted, which it wouldn’t be if it weren’t already well proven and widely accepted. In a word: nothing could be true unless this statement was proven and widely accepted first, but how could that condition be true in the first place if this statement isn’t already proven and widely accepted?]

“The statement may be true by chance, so yes.”

[Those lucky statements!]

“No, truth is a concept completely created by humans.”

[So true!] [?]

self-vitiating.

I’m pretty sure there’s a fallacy looming in the woodwork, but I’m not sure where or what it is.

The argument. According to a whole slew of persons, some of whom I know and others whom I do not, it’s impossible for things to be perfect in this life. Some persons have inferred from the supposed truth of this that it’s somehow wrongheaded, or unreasonable, or perhaps even sinful to expect other persons to be perfect. The idea seems straightforward: if it’s impossible for me to be perfect, then it’s unreasonable for you to expect me to be perfect, and since it’s sinful to be unreasonable, it follows that it’s sinful for you to expect me to be perfect.

So far so good.

But now suppose that one of my imperfections is that I expect others to be perfect. Well, if you think it’s wrong for me to expect others to be perfect, and it is indeed wrong for anyone to do so, then it’s equally wrong for you to expect me to not expect other persons to be perfect. For suppose that I’m completely perfect save for the fact that I wrongfully expect others to be perfect. Well, if that’s my only imperfection, expecting me to not expect others to be perfect would in this case saddle you with expecting me to be perfect, which would make you guilty of the very thing you’re accusing me of.

The most obvious way out of this is to point out that the argument is sound but that one of the antecedents of one of its conditions is false. Namely, that though it’s true that it would be wrong of you to expect me to not expect others to be perfect if I were perfect save for the fact that I expect others to be perfect, it’s simply not true that I’m perfect save for the fact that I expect others to be perfect, and so this argument is moot.

Fair enough. But this response will only get me off your back for a few seconds. Lest you believe that it’s always wrong to expect anyone to do what’s right at all, you must think that that there’s some threshold of relative perfection that is such that if I were to obtain it, it would be wrong for you to expect me to be any more perfect. Let’s call this state of relative perfection perfect relative perfection.

Well, suppose for one second or so I obtained the elusive but wholly possible state of perfect relative perfection. I take it that I’ve obtained such a state at least once or twice since there’s got to be at least one point where I did the best I could have. And surely, if there was a time when I did the best I could have, at that very moment I must have ipso facto obtained a state of perfect relative perfection. For how could I do the very best I could have and not be perfectly relative perfect? Well, so be it. But suppose that in my perfect relative perfection I nevertheless expected others to be perfect. Well, if you were around at the time and expected me not to expect others to be perfect, then you would have been guilty of the very thing you would have been accusing me of.

The moral of the story is this. So long as I’m in a state of perfect relative perfection but I nonetheless expect other persons to be perfect and you think I’m wrong to do so, then you’d be wrongfully expecting me to be more perfect than I would be. And hence, your ethical position would be self-vitiating. And whatever your ethical positions might me, I hope you'd agree with me that you should never adopt an ethical position that’s self-vitiating.