Calum Morrell » Philosophy

Save the Loch Arklet View

Calum Morrell — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 13:45:33 +0000

This post is very, very late. I was supposed to have written it late last year, but fell ill before I got around to it and then forgot as usual. It is not, however, too late to pay attention thankfully.

I received a comment from Scott Provan on the post about my September 2008 Loch Arklet shoot, informing me of the plans by Forestry Commission Scotland (FCS) to plant a new forest beside and around Loch Arklet. Have a look at my post to get an idea of the landscape as it is now. In order to reach this view, I had to drive quite a long way through FCS planted forrests beside Loch Ard and Loch Chon, both of which now being densely wooded and very difficult to do much useful with as when you get to the banks of Loch Chon in particular, all you can see are those irritating very few species of tree the FCS tend to use.

I do not want to see this at Loch Arklet. Right now it is a beautiful wide open space and a fantastic thing to stop and look at. I do not want to drive back that way in a few years and think “remember the photographs I got from here? I think it was here, can’t quite see for all the trees”. Unfortunately, this is what the FCS seem to want. I honestly don’t know if they’re so arrogant that they believe any unforrested part of Scotland is rightfully theirs to devastate or if their heads are so far up their arses they actually don’t realise the harsh impact on our landscape they continually submit us to.

Regardless, it is time for them to be told clearly and loudly that we’ve had enough and right now you have the chance to sign a petition to state that you find this unacceptable. It has now come to the attention of The Scottish Parliament so your support now is not too late. Please consider visiting their campaign website and signing the petition once you’ve read the information provided there. All the information you need, along with the petition, can be found at:

http://www.locharkletview.org.uk/

Thomas Nagel: What does it all mean?

Calum Morrell — Sat, 02 Sep 2006 18:16:23 +0000

As a very short introduction to philosophy, this is a short book around a hundred pages with fairly large text and fractionally under A5 in physical size. Nagel runs through a light hearted yet informative range of core issues fundamental to philosophy, his humour coming through and allowing an easier read than some of the other short introduction style texts for the area. I would consider that most people should be able to work their way through the book with relative ease as Nagel tends to be clear, concise and, importantly, brief while discussing each topic while only occasionally providing a more in depth discussion where necessary.

The core areas he covers in order are How do we know anything?, Other minds, The Mind-body problem, The meaning of words, Free will, Right and wrong, Justice, Death and finally The meaning of life. It would be far too easy to make (bad) jokes at this point, but I shall display unusual restraint. Don’t think I’m going to be making a habit of it.

The book, originally made available in 1987, may be approaching twenty years old now and the content may not be presented in as fresh a format as more recent works from the likes of Blackburn, but the topics covered are timeless and leave the book worthy of reading. Let’s face it, it’s only going to take you a day or two to work through it if you don’t have a lazy Sunday afternoon to sit with it.

There is perhaps one point Nagel makes in his chapter on Death which I find myself disagreeing with. Whether this is through my lack of understanding or simply a different point of view is another matter. Nagel states:

“Of course you can’t conceive of your own non-existence from the inside. You can’t conceive of what it would be like to be totally annihilated, because there’s nothing it would be like, from the inside.”

Skipping a bit, he goes on to say:

“you just have to think of yourself from the outside, having been knocked out, or in a deep sleep.”

This is where my problem comes from. I go to sleep every day and, so far, always wake up a few hours later. I have no recollection of this period besides a short period at either end which is usually somewhat fuzzy in recollection. In effect, for this period of time, I , as a person, do not exist. While there will be many arguments against that simple statement, I do believe I can use it to show that I certainly do have the ability to conceive my own non-existence from the inside, as I experience this daily.

As part of writing a review, I always make an effort to contact a relevant person to give them the chance to correct any factual errors, ensure they’re happy with any quotes or graphics I’ve chosen to use and because I simply believe it’s polite to do so. Thomas, if you have read this and don’t dismiss me as a muppet outright, I would be very interested to hear your thoughts on my disagreement above. The same invitation is extended to anyone bored enough to contact me.

In summary, a good and short introduction to some basic philosophy, well worth reading and cheap enough not to be too upsetting if it doesn’t interest you.

Alain de Botton: The Art of Travel

Calum Morrell — Thu, 13 Jul 2006 00:57:01 +0000

Alain de Botton is one of those names I’ve been aware of for a few years now, have noted the TV series and the book tie-ins (or so I thought) but have never paid attention to. This changed after I saw him appear either on a celebrity quiz show or some political program and I realised I enjoyed his style.

A few weeks later I found myself in a branch of Borders waiting for my brother as he hunted for a book. Becoming bored, I began to browse idly in the travel section and discovered before me The Art of Travel. I picked up a copy and started to read the first chapter (my brother is not the fastest person while looking for something) and decided after a few pages to buy it.

It’s not a large book, being approximately 7”x5” and around 260 pages long, but it’s printed on good quality gloss paper, so it’s fairly weighty. There are a number of plates (ahem, images) per chapter which as used to illustrate an area or point referred to. These are sadly all black and white, but none the less welcome for it. The size allowed it to slip easily into my jacket pocket which is probably why I started carrying it around with me, grabbing a spare ten minutes in a coffee house, on a park bench, wherever I happened to be able to sit without too much distraction. This is not something I do often and I have to say, it did enhance my enjoyment of the book. I think that’s what they call a “spoiler”…

On to the book contents, in theory the reason you would actually buy it. A quick overview of the contents will show you that de Botton has split the book into a small number of logical sections based around the departure, motives, landscape, art and returning. Each of these has two chapters apart from the return which is a single closing element. The use of a specific location and person per chapter allows a consistent reading which can guide you through the book without jumping between person A, B and C across the various chapters.

de Botton has a fairly light style of writing which can be deceptively simple, ensuring it is easy to read for those who simply want to enjoy his musings and go “oh yeah!” periodically as they recognise something they have done or experienced themselves. However, deceptive is exactly what it is. Read a little more carefully and the quantity and quality of sociological and philosophical sections are plain, allowing some much deeper thought into the what, why, where and who of the figure he has chosen as your guide for that chapter.

“There was, apart from the motorway, no road linking the service station to other places, no footpath even; it seemed not to belong to the city, nor to the country either, but rather to some third, travellers’ realm, like a lighthouse at the edge of the ocean.” is the start of the simple but provoking way de Botton describes a service station on the motorway between London and Manchester. In the same chapter he introduces the work of Edward Hopper, an American artist who spent much of his time painting fairly uninteresting scenes… on first sight. I have to admit to not having seen much to interest me in the few paintings presented in the book until I had read the thought behind them. I have since purchased a book cataloguing much of Hopper’s work and can no longer understand having so little interest, so thanks Alain!

Overall, I rate this book very highly. It can either be a simple, quick, enjoyable read or a much more in-depth work deserving of your time. You get to decide and without the feeling you’re cheating yourself whichever you go for. Buy it, read it, then let me know if you agree.

I have now purchased “How Proust can change your Life” and “The Architecture of Happiness” on the strength of this one and have a ticket to listen to de Botton talk at the 2006 Edinburgh International Book Festival. They have a lot to live up to.