The Bible says that death is an enemy --- the last enemy
that will be defeated. Sometimes I think it is a natural outcome not to be
resisted, but the past few days, as it has been evident that we will have to
put down one more pet cat --- an 18 year member of the family --- my fuzziness
about death being an enemy has cleared up. I do not like death, and I find I
have been having manifold related thoughts lately.
I grew up on a farm and was close to the animals. My sense
is that mammals are often aware of the death of other individuals, but that
they probably do not have a sense of their own mortality. If they did, they
would either be fearful, or they would be philosophical. I do not know what
other response there could be, and I have usually noticed neither, although I
do not know how I would detect philosophy in another species. I guess I have
seen fear in farm animals now that I think about it. You just have to go to a
cattle auction to see the bovine discomfort.
I have been thinking about my own death, which most of the
time I have thought is regrettable, albeit necessary, and I have had moments
when I think that the only thing for which life is worth living is to help
others have better outcomes than they would have without me. In short, to make
a positive difference. If I didn’t have that, what would be the point of
living? Some people are motivated by pleasure maximization and want to live to
enjoy. “Have a good one” is the rather lame closing comment I receive from
store clerks and others, to which I usually reply “One what?” The other lame remark I often get from clerks is “What was
your name?” I will often reply something like “You mean before I changed it?”
or “I haven’t changed it; it still is Gordon Feil.”
In a world where life-extension technology is blossoming,
there are people who think we will master death. I don’t buy it. I think we can
eventually prolong life, maybe even hundreds of years, but accidents
will happen. Every day will be another instance of pulling the trigger in a
sort of Russian roulette. Most of us do not die by accident. That’s because we
haven’t lived until that fatal accident occurred --- until it became probable. Something
else gets us first. But once we have the ability to live centuries, it seems to
me that everyone’s number will eventually come up.
I have had to wonder when personhood ceases. How much
functionality has to be impaired before the person is no longer there? The
question is such a leftist question, and not one I would normally entertain,
but I have lately done so just for philosophical and intellectual purposes I
think. Are we artificial intelligences? Are we persons, or are we processes?
And how do I prove it? The leftists have decided that it is up to a woman to
determine if her unborn child is a person. Such ambiguity, as indeed there must
be when we say that any woman can define personhood anyway she wants, is
totally unscientific since there is no objective standard or consistency being
sought or obtained. Someone may think personhood has to do with brainwaves, but
the parameters they set may even render sleeping people as not persons. There
are various other attributes or deficiencies a woman may think her unborn child
has that disqualifies the child from having yet achieved personhood, but which
many adults lack, at least at times, and yet we would not think of those adults
as not being persons.
I am rambling. One thought leading to another. The vet comes
in two hours. I think I’ll go see the kitty.
