As I prayed the Magnificat last night, I thought of the intellectuals mentioned below.
He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
Could there be a better description of the state of many of our brightest minds, busily sawing off the metaphysical limbs upon which they sit, painting themselves into metaphysical corners?
Why not assume that consciousness does not play a role in human behavior?
I always want to ask people who raise what they obviously believe to be bold questions such as this one: why assume anything? Why assume that you actually exist? Why assume life is better than death?
Many years ago I ran across the phrase "a weariness with the striving to be men," and it has stuck with me. A commentor in our first post below asks what is meant by the phrase "culture of death." Well, one thing it means is the spirit which believes there is at bottom no such thing as human life.
A weariness with the striving to be men…