All song lyrics ã 2008 V. Alan White, Professor of Philosophy, University of Wisconsin Colleges

(Sung to "The Girl from Ipanema")

Short and bald, snub-nosed and ugly,

the Gad-fly Athenaios comes talking,

and when he questions,

each one he questions goes "huh?"

Though he sounds much like a Sophist

he cares for truth, he cares for justice,

but when he questions,

each one he questions goes "huh?"

How can I know universals?

What is the nature of virtue?

How could the soul be immortal?

Is there something you think that you know?

You might want to ask Euthyphro!

Short and bald, snub-nosed and ugly,

the Gad-fly Athenaios comes talking,

and though he questions,

it's just inquiry. . .

"Huh?" "huh-huh?" "huh?" "Hah-huh-huh?" "Huh?"

"Huh-huh-huh?" "Huh?" "Hah-huh-huh?" Huh?"

"Huh-huh-huh-hhhhhuuuhhhh, hhaaahhh huh-huh-huh?"

it's inquiry. . .

inquiry. . .

Solipsism's Painless

(Sung to "Suicide is Painless" (the M*A*S*H theme))

Through the upturned glass I see

a modified reality--

which proves pure reason "kant" critique

that beer reveals das ding an sich--

Oh solipsism's painless,

it helps to calm the brain since

we must defer our drinking to go teach.

Oh virtue was the fleeting thing

Socrates was ever-seeking--

but interspersed with questioning

was his Symposium drinking--

'Cause solipsism's painless,

stick the brain in the vat since

we must defer our drinking to go teach.

The history of philosophy

is full of sots and lechery--

at APAs I think you'll see

a conduct that's exemplary!

For solipsism's painless,

flush Putnam down the drain since

we must defer our drinking to go teach--

It's beer and not conclusions

we must reach. . . .

Poppycock

(Sung to "Rockytop, Tennessee")

Oh Guanilon thought it was poppycock

to prove that God exists--

And David Hume said it was poppycock

to think that self persists--

Now I don't know if it is poppycock

to believe such things--

But all I seem to know is poppycock

when logic loudly sings:

(chorus)

Poppycock is all I see

examined logically--

it's all poppycock,

poppycock logically, poppycock logically!

There was a time I thought the religious life

contained the truth and way--

I'd pray to God or Son or Holy Ghost

depending on time of day--

But then I read in Soren Kierkegaard

that reason faith might block--

and that's when the love of wisdom clearly said

my life was poppycock!

(chorus--)

So look with me to the march of philosophy

to see what's false and true--

there're proofs for God and modal opacity,

and then, of course, there's grue--

the moral here is, once you know it all,

and got it locked and stocked--

(allegro)

is when a paper appears in the Phil Review

that says "It's poppycock!"

(chorus and repeat)

Reichenbach's Methods

(Sung to "Luchenbach, Texas")

(prologue--recitativo)

When I came to Knoxville to study Alfred North,

little I knew the difficulty such study would show forth--

now I don't need this metaphysical stuff--

thinking in this realm is much too tough--

why don't we just get back

to the basics of thought?

(chorus)

Let's go to Reichenbach's methods

with Moritz and Rudolph and the boys--

this disgustin' stuff we're thinkin's

got us makin' a whole lot of empty noise--

let's get to a strict empiricism,

metaphysical skepticism,

from process studies we'll refrain--

let's go to Reichenbach's methods

where people just behave and feel no pain!

Prehensions are just fine

if you happen to have the time

to let them happen.

But once you've got them there

you've got to presuppose

some subjects for them--

and where do such subjects come from?

From God's prehensions ad infinitum!

Why don't we get back

to the basics of thought?

(chorus and repeat)

This PHD

(Sung to "This Diamond Ring" by Gary Lewis and the Playboys) No MIDI available

Who wants to hire a PHD?

Especially the one I have--in philosophy?

(chorus)

This PHD won't get jobs for you anymore,

and this PHD doesn't mean what it did before--

and if you want to get tenure-tracked in college,

it takes more than knowledge!

Time was that learning made you

the finest of the fine--

but now it just marks you as

the smartest in the jobless line!

(chorus)

This PHD only gives me another name

and this PHD is as useless as its frame--

and if you want to get tenure-tracked in college,

it takes more than knowledge!

We Didn't Start Inquiry

(Sung--loosely--to Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire")

"All is water", "All is air", "There are numbers everywhere",

apeiron and logos, Eleatic thought-block--

Sophistry, Socrates, Plato's reminiscences,

Aristotle's physics (apriori / ad hoc). . .

Hellenistic Hippo-crat--Ages Darken after that--

Abelard, Maimonides, Proslogion proof,

Avicenna, Guanilon, Occam strops his razor on,

Galileo drops the ball--inertia's set loose--

(chorus)

We didn't start inquiry,

But with ideas churning we can kindle learning--

We didn't start inquiry,

But with questions going we can foster knowing!

Descartes doubting everything, Leibniz's monads mirroring,

Locke, Spinoza, Newton, Machiavellian prince,

Reid maintains the will is free (Hobbesians compatibly)

qualia's primarily the Berkeleyan sense. . .

Hume causes Kant to wake, Kierkegaard gets into faith,

Wollstonecraft, Kapital, the Origin's proofed,

Nietzsche outwits superman, Mill's utilitarian,

Peircean pragmaticism works up new truth--

(chorus)

Russell's denotation scheme, Godel crushes Frege's dream,

Popper, Whitehead, Dewey, James, Santayana, Royce--

Novel time of Einstein, tables turned by Wittgenstein,

undetermined quantum cats that die by choice. . .

Carnap, Tarski, Reichenbach, ordinary language acts,

Ayer, Strawson, on "Two Dogmas"--gems true grue--

Anscombe, Kripke, Frankena, Dummett, Putnam, Plantinga,

Barcan Marcus, Rorty, Lewis--even me and you!

(Chorus and repeat)

Readin' Kripke

(Sung to "Makin' Whoopee")

Can you name

which famous prof

dictates his books

right off the cuff?

Identity,

schmidentity--

we're readin' Kripke!

Got a puzzle,

about belief?

Resolve it fast--

S5 motif--

de dicto's passe,

de re you'll assay,

by readin' Kripke!

If reading Russell presents you a thrill,

old Saul will make you more grist for his Mill!

Another world,

in which you're not

contains someone

whose name you've got--

and who's that person?

(It only worsens

by readin' Kripke!)

(Sung to "Home on the Range")

Oh read me some Hume

in a skeptic-packed room,

where the beer and the arguments play--

where often is heard

a reduction absurd--

and the statements are mostly de re!

(chorus)

Hume, Hume on the brain--

tends to make all absurdity plain--

by forcing my doubt

to reflectively flout

all the "truths" to which others lay claim!

Oh give me relief

from dogmatic belief--

may my logical powers not stray--

should science offend

then my Feyerabend

will repel what my Kuhn doesn't slay!

(chorus)

(Sung to "Chimchiminey")

(chorus)

Antinomy, antinomy, antinomy--

it's not merely one but it's two QEDs--

antinomy, antinomy, antinomy--

contradictory results from the same premises!

(Despite what one thinks--both can't be believed!)

Immanuel Kant said the world can't begin

then thought better of it, and said it can't end;

how better adjoin separate theses as these

but publicize them as Kant's antinomies?

(chorus)

Old Zeno thought space a remarkable thing

(somewhat as we think of a pig on the wing);

Achilles could not catch a Testudines

if burdened by so many antinomies!

(chorus)

We search for the truth till the end of the day--

but closer approaching seems farther away--

an infinite effort our destiny be--

the lover of wisdom's own antinomy!

(chorus)

(Sung to "I Can See Clearly Now")

I can think clearly now, all doubt is gone--

I can see truth as plainly as hands display--

posteriori or the prior kind--

I've got a right, right, right, episteme!

"Knows that P" sheerly now cannot be wrong--

all the bad Gettiers have disappeared--

turns out that Plato was right all along--

he had a right, right, right, episteme!

Postmodern minds are all the rage--

but they can't be consistent in meta-stage!

Taking the cogito as my first clue--

only Beelzebub stood in the way--

took him right out with a quick ontic proof--

now I got a right, right, right, episteme!

(Sung to Lou Reed's "Take a Walk on the Wild Side")

In the Windy City for a day,

takin' in the Central APA,

a paper here and a paper there--

Cartesian stuff nearly everywhere--

I cried "Hey Dan, make a talk on the Ryle side"--

I said "Hey Pat, make a talk on the Ryle side"--

Kim can speak of causes that belie.

(Davidson's are lawless by the by.)

Type or token the mind is there,

yet Nagel's right 'cause it seems nowhere--

So "Hey Dan, make a talk on the Ryle side"--

And "Hey Pat, make a talk on th Ryle side"--

And the Canton Searles go "Do, de-do, do, de-do-de-do, do. . ."

When it hurts it seems that I can ache,

Starring in a role with no mistake.

But Dennett said that I'm written out

with just a lip (and no me) to pout--

So "Please Dan, make a talk on the Ryle side"--

And "Oh Pat, make a talk on the Ryle side"--

And the Canton Searles go "Do, de-do, do, de-do-de-do, do. . ."

(Sung to "The Green, Green Grass of Home")

The Scriptures still said the same,

divided sacred from profane--

they held the Gospel

(and I mean in all senses!).

All was well and God was in His heaven--

then I took Phil of Religion--

the Prof assigned the Dialogues of Hume. . .

(chorus)

Oh the arguments defeat me--

And the theist answers weakly--

How troubling are the Dialogues of Hume!

The words all looked so strange,

as they grappled on the page--

and raised some questions

that I had not considered:

Raising doubts about a first Creator

(that than which there is none greater)--

such logic in the Dialogues of Hume--

(chorus)

I awoke from dogma's slumber,

left emotions that encumber--

and saw that faith had leapt

from Dover cliffs of reason--

"god" just might be an anthropic concept--

Dawkins' blind memetic success--

critiqued by the Dialogues of Hume--

Yes they may come to hate me,

Slander, libel, and berate me--

But I now believe the Dialogues of Hume!

(Sung to "Today")

Today, while the present exists, and the past

is done and forgotten, the future is next--

the tenseless conditions of truth never say

what I can simply supply by-y-y (y-y!) "Today. . ."

I know McTaggart and I read my Russell,

and Nathan Oaklander's my hero of date--

still B-theory founders where A-theory champions

what temp'ral indexicals state!

Today, while the present exists, and the past

is done and forgotten, the future is next--

With Quentin's semantics, two Williams' logistics

large doubt was cast over the B-theorist's way--

but Mellor revealed how indexicals cover

beliefs that prevent temp'ral stray!

"Today" thus betokens the date upon which

my co-present wishes must dutifully fix

to be first effective and then pass away,

never revived by a type-tokeni-i-ized: "Today. . ."!

Teach us some Kant, Ken Cooley

(Sung to "Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley")

(In honor of Professor Ken Cooley's retirement 6/01)

(chorus)

Teach us some Kant, Ken Cooley,
teach us the law sublime,
teach us some Kant, Ken Cooley,
ethics within the mind.

Act always so the maxim
be universalized,
the consequences be damned
serpentine-winding wise!

(chorus)

Should a mad killer ask us
where a good friend resides--
we may not treat him as means
filling him with our lies!

(chorus)

Absolutism is hard
maybe it's out of reach--
but how can we judge such things
if Cooley doesn't teach?

(chorus and repeat)

Fool’s Water (Twater)

(Sung to "Cool Water")

They say I make a grand mistake

about the state of twater--

fool’s water--

a twin-earth guy who drinks when dry,

and can’t think I see water--

two-H-Oed water.

(chorus)

Keep a-thinking Burge, Putnam’s got a cunning urge

he’s concocted quite a merge

of gedanken with a surge

of twater.

Oh Burge can’t you see that externally

that water can’t be made of X&Y&Z--

just twater--

fool’s-gold water?

And so I’m fooled

to think I’m schooled

in molecules of water--

your old water--

my XYZ presents to me

a thought that flees from water--

two-H-Oed water.

(chorus)

Externalists!

Cease and desist!

There is no mist called "twater"--

fool’s water--

your fantasy involving me

is completely non-starter--

fool’s-gold water.

(chorus)

Ergo Sum
(Sung to the Beach Boys' In My Room)

Descartes sat and meditated, and thus cogitoed--ergo sum, ergo sum.
Doubting all he took as granted forced him to conclude--ergo sum, ergo sum.

It took four more meditations for the world to bloom--
proving God deposed deception (with distinctness too!).

The path of all modern thinking starts with Descartes' turn--ergo sum, ergo sum. . .

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

(Sung to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious")

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

A consequence of moral theories fraught with complication!

Doing right can only lead to failure and frustration!

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

Try to universalize a lie and you will see

a side of Kant that just detests the contradictory,

to tell the truth is thus incumbent on us all the time

and if you can’t remember that then say this catchy rhyme--

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

A consequence of moral theories fraught with complication!

Doing right can only lead to failure and frustration!

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

Mill around and you will find a nice morality

that’s based on feeling good for all of you (and not just me),

but if you need it and your “you” is greatly pluralized

then my feelings aren’t so good when they’re cut down to size—

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

A consequence of moral theories fraught with complication!

Doing right can only lead to failure and frustration!

Supererogationisticextraobligation!

The Hook's A Bust

(Sung to "The Look of Love")

The hook's a bust,

it sometimes lies,

the hook says things

we despise.

The hook's a bust--

conveying so much more

than intentions mean to say--

entailment can make statements

with a sequitur of nay--

antecedents full of falsehood,

consequents no more good--

truth-functional meaning

cannot capture what is

all that is conditioned--

you know the hook's a bust

upon its face,

the hook implies

what's not the case--

benign, if right,

but oh so wrong if its "then"

conflicts with protasis--

examples counter to sense

are multiplicit--

antecedents full of falsehood,

consequents no more good--

truth-functional meaning

cannot capture what is

all that is conditioned--

artificial!

artificial!

Prehension

(Sung to “Suspicion”)

An old man named Whitehead,

whom Harvard hired for his science,

from then on wrote nothing

but metaphysics just for fun—

Process was his subject

Reality his only object—

How best to relate them?

Inventing terms will get it done!

(chorus) 

Prehension—causal in part—

Prehension—all nature’s smart—

Prehension—panpsychically!

So actual occasions

are people just as well as protons,

and after we’re concrescent

we’re only objects to be grasped—

We live in durations

(symmetric, transitive co-presence),

existence momentary

and if we’re not prehended we relapse!

(chorus)

Are events the answer?

And is our science bifurcated?

One could be of two minds

as whether he was clever or effete—

Could Principia’s author

really process all this jargon?

Or was he laid to rest with

a twisted rigored tongue within his cheek?

(chorus)

Mens John

(Sung to “Big Bad John” by Jimmy Dean)

(In honor of Professor John Knight’s Retirement 6/03)

Every morning at the campus you could see him arrive,

He had an IQ estimated 165,

Kinda broad in his learning but narrow in his wit

And everybody knew you didn’t give no shit to mens John.

Mens John, mens John—Big mens John.

That John was smart wasn’t hard to see

(He earned extra credit on his GRE)

Some called him “Big Brain” or simply “The Pate”

But what finally stuck was the Latinate—mens John.

They said John hailed from Ohio State U

And was the brightest teacher in the Old Horseshoe

With one weighty quip from his frontal lobe

Sent a Fellow from the College- to the Tidy-Bowl—mens John.

Mens John, mens John—Big mens John.

Then came the class when one student’s mind

Was closed as any since medieval time,

A folk psychologist and divine-command jurist,

Nothing could dispatch such murky mists—‘cept John.

Through the haze and confusion of such muddled thought

Walked this lucid speaker they simply called “Prof”,

Grabbed a pointed example right out of the air

And threw it at that student with a verbal flair—mens John.

Mens John, mens John—Big mens John.

The neophyte thinker felt wisdom’s love

And the other students blurted “that’s a light bulb above!”

And as the student noted in course evaluation

“There’s no better intro to higher education”—than mens John.

And then the day came after 35 years

When the final lecture spilled out upon deft ears,

The classroom dimmed for the very last time

And everybody knew it was the end of the line for mens John.

Mens John, mens John—Big mens John.

They converted the classroom after he left

And put a marble sign out in front of it—

These few words are written on that sign—

“This restroom’s named for a Big, Big Mind—MEN’S JOHN.”

MEN’S JOHN, MEN’S JOHN—A BIG MEN’S JOHN!

Mens John—

[fading]

(one in every UW hall)

Mens John—

(named after our John, one and all)

Mens John—

(I visit his shrine every day!)

Mens John—

(No place has more cells of grey. . .)

Give us the Wisdom of Jim Cheney

(Sung to "Because" by the Dave Clark Five)

(In honor of Professor Jim Cheney's Retirement 6/03)

He writes on environmental ethics
with a Native insight on it too--
he writes, he writes from feminist perspective
because, because it might ring true!

Retired now, it's students who lose--
who else could help us think
but doesn't make us snooze?

Give us the wisdom of Jim Cheney,
from pen or lips it's smooth--
Give us, give us, his form of gentle rigor,
because, because it might ring true. . .

Give us the wisdom of Jim Cheney,
from pen or lips it's smooth--
Give us, give us, his form of gentle rigor,
because, because it might ring true!

Because, because it might ring true!

Paradoxes

(Sung to "My Way" by Frank Sinatra (lyrics by Paul Anka))

(Dedicated to Ron Barnette and his excellent site Zeno's Coffeehouse)

And now, the time has come
that is not thus the time before this--
and yet, this is the time that's not the now
of what I said it's--
the time that will become,
cannot be now, but will present as
the now, as now now is--
it's paradoxes.

The space, through which one moves,
one cannot prove that one traverses--
for points of motions are
so dense that "far" is close as "near" is--
and thus to move from near to far
is not what common sense says--
to hell with common sense--
it's paradoxes.

Yes we have shaves, the barber gave
not to himself, but to some knave
like to himself he could not give,
but still he gave as if to live
as one who shaves himself not knaves--
of paradoxes!

I've told a bunch of lies,
but in a way that's so confusing--
my truth always belied
the statement's side of falsehood's rusing--

"This statement is not true"
collides my truths against my falses--
what else this wreckage is--
but paradoxes.

But what is a thought, but it can flaunt
its content so that it cannot
be torn apart by logic's peel
so as to be the shit revealed
in true-but-false?  So take the loss--
it's paradoxes!!!

Good Inductions

(Sung to "Good Vibrations" by Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys; dedicated (3/2007) to Alan Hájek for a simply fabulous paper on probability)

My, my reasoning isn't good
though I know my ZF Theorem as I should--
I see the flight of that Bayesian Bird
as it spans the space between deductive worlds--

I'm thinking up good inductions
they're giving me expectations
I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
they're giving me expectations
I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
they're giving me expectations

I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
they're giving me expectations

(Expect!)

Diagrams
like Euler's or like Venn's
place closure on the statements they expend--
I need some thought that can deal with more
of a science with unending open ends--

I'm thinking up good inductions
they're giving me expectations
I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
they're giving me expectations
I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
I'm thinking up good inductions
(Oom bop bop expectations)
they're giving me expec--ta--tions!

Ahh--
Oh that constant conjunction--
I don't know how it can get me there--
Oh my, my fakin' Bacon
Oh Novum Organum

(My, my my. . .)

Gotta keep those coin-flip inductions
a-trackin' with truth--
Gotta keep those coin-flip inductions
a-trackin' with truth. . .

Ahh--
Good, good, good, good inductions!
I'm thinking up good inductions
they're giving me expectations

(Nah, nah, expectations!)
Good, good, good, good inductions!
I'm thinking up good inductions
they're giving me expectations

(Nah, nah, expect!)

Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, nah-nah-nah,

Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, nah-nah-nah,

Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, nah-nah-nah,

Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, nah-nah-nah!

Goldstein’s Writings

(sung to Kung Fu Fighting by Carl Douglas)

(Dedicated to Laurence Goldstein, most recently of the University of Hong Kong and The University of Kent )

Ho-ho-ho-ho. . .

Ha-ha-ha-ha. . .

Hee-hee-hee-hee. . .

Har-har-har-har. . .

Everybody read Goldstein’s writings

His prose is quite enlightening

With style always intertwining

Guffaws with Wittgensteining!

He’s the Britishest of men but teaches in Hong Kong,

Ripping paradox apart with just a cheeky tongue,

Strong liars he detests (no statement he insists)—

Not a grain of truth can add to heap analysis!

Everybody read Goldstein’s writings

His prose is quite enlightening

With style always intertwining

Guffaws with Wittgensteining!

Whether shaving Russell’s chin or boiling up a frog—

He says “Wisdom’s all right, but—hah!—let’s have some fun!”

“A new comb can part your head, but in a box instead

makes the basis for a bet that truly makes grey matter split!”

Everybody read Goldstein’s writings

His prose is quite enlightening

With style always intertwining

Guffaws with Wittgensteining!

Ho-ho-ho-ho. . .

Ha-ha-ha-ha. . .

Hee-hee-hee-hee. . .

Har-har-har-har. . .

Everybody read Goldstein’s writings

His prose is quite enlightening

With style always intertwining

Guffaws with Wittgensteining!

Goldstein’s writings

Quite enlightening

Always intertwining

Guffaws and Wittgensteining

Goldstein’s writings

Quite enlightening

Intertwining

Wittgensteining

Recherché

(sung to “Yesterday” by Paul McCartney and John Lennon)

(Dedicated to Brian Weatherson's wonderful Thoughts, Arguments, and Rants page!)

Recherché—

It’s a catch-all word to turn away

nagging doubt that one cannot allay—

all critics’ points are recherché.

Stunningly, logic is not what it used to be,

if it’s carefully put glibly,

the recherché will get by me.

What I think I know, blow by blow,

I’d rather say—

But that takes too long so I’m strongly

Recherché—é—é—é—

Recherché—

What I need to say I cannot say—

Ludwig says I’m silent anyway—

Oh my beliefs are recherché.

De Facto

(Sung to “El Paso” by Marty Robbins)

(Dedicated to William Lycan, William Rand Kenan Professor of Philosophy, University of North Carolina; inspired by an outstanding paper "On the Gettier Problem Problem")

Out of the best knowledge that is de facto

There are some questions that make Plato hurl—

Gettier poses some counterexamples

And down the toilet JTB would swirl.

Surer than sure were the lights of JTB

Anchored in claims that seem untouchable—

Something that true simply cannot be altered—

Epistemology infallible.

Then in Analysis Edmund came in

Proclaiming Plato’s great sin—

Truth we’re declaring could be so despairing

Just given some facts that we’re not aware of—

So in ignorance

Of all that we think is so fully established

We don’t conceptualize counterfactuals,

Especially those that affect our assessments

Of mundane facts we take granted as such.

So if we think that the coins in our pockets

Correspond to what we’ve got in our heads—

Could be we missed that some nitwit pickpocket

Replaced our change with some greenbacks instead!

How could my knowledge be thus fallible

Given it’s so justified?

Maybe it’s causally

And thus so plausibly

Hooked to the claim I could say that it’s tied—

Just as sure as I know

Propositionally the de facto

As I did my name a moment ago—

Without the de facto all knowledge is hopeless—

Nothing is certain and all truth is jest,

If we can’t undo what Edmund created,

We put what we take as knowledge to rest.

I sidled up to some ways I could know,

Forfeiting ignorance’s mark—

Maybe there’s no need for justification—

Possibly true belief fulfills the part?

But still Edmund made big trouble

For what I take as de facto,

Skeptical snaps of the finger or no—

Possibly Armstrong could then push me forward

Reliably to JTB I go.

Knowledge is slight by reliabilism,

Skeptics are left an impoverished bore—

(Arguments like these are fetching and catchy,

Garnering tenure by tenfold and more!)

But something is horribly wrong for I fear

That such can’t make questions subside—

“Stop” Lycan says with the so-called “false lemmas”,

“no false assumption” prevents knowledge’s slide.

So my longing JTB’s not wrong

And I’m strong in my knowing,

Plugging a hole between brain and the rest,

Deviant thought is what I need to stifle,

Then claims to knowing cannot be suppressed!

From out of nothing JTB is founded—

With lycanthropic revision—well-nigh,

Wolfing it down I can howl with assurance:

“All that I know is ‘Bill Lycan—good try!’ ”

Appraising Stace

(Sung to Amazing Grace, or Gilligan's Island)

(Dedicated to UW Madison and Juan Comesaña for a generous invitation in Spring 2005)

Appraising Stace:

how “freedom” sounds

as common use to me?

If what I want

is what I’ve done—

then physically I’m free!

Was Stace not taught

so smart and clear

that Stace unclearly cleaved

to glosses of

what Stace declares

as ours when saying “free”?

Though many dangle

minds as fare

for what “free will” becomes

should Stace refer to mens rea

and Stace concede its home—

When we’ve been fair

in first-phase trials

and “guilty!” does resound,

if X did Y, so off to jail,

is more than doing found?

Appraising Stace:

how “freedom” sounds

as common use to me?

If what I want

is what I’ve done—

then physically I’m free!

How Can I Mend the Beta Part?

(Sung to “How Can You Mend A Broken Heart” by The Bee Gees (Brothers Gibb))

(Dedicated to The Garden of Forking Paths and Peter van Inwagen, John Cardinal O’Hara Professor of Philosophy, The University of Notre Dame, in tribute to his “reasons responsiveness” to critics of his Consequence Argument in his remarkable “Free Will Remains a Mystery”)

I still think in my Essay I was exactly right

deterministic freedom will not do.

I could never change world nomos so I could not be blamed for any faux pas.

And—

How can I mend the Beta part?

How can I stop agglomerating frowns?

How can I stop entailment failing?

What makes my reason sound?

How can I mend my modal plan?

How can the Np be valid?

Please help me mend my Beta part, or be mysterian.

I can still think with ease that causes only freeze

the tracks of what can be within our minds—

I could never change world nomos so I could not be blamed for any faux pas.

And—

How can I mend the Beta part?

How can I stop agglomerating frowns?

How can I stop entailment failing?

What makes my reason sound?

And—

How can I mend my modal plan?

How can the Np be valid?

Please help me mend my Beta part, or be mysterian.

Nah nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah nahanah

Nah nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah. . .

Please help me mend my Beta part, or be mysterian.

Nah nah nah nah, nah nah nah

Notre Daaaaaaammmmmme. . .

Two Sides Now

(Sung to “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell; dedicated to David J. Chalmers in tribute to his excellent site on consciousness, including this luscious and definitive paper on his famous “zombie argument”)

Folds of lobes beneath the hair

reuptake serotonin there—

C fibers firing everywhere—

I’ve thought of brains that way.

But I conceive them making puns,

and sobbing, singing, having fun—

with nothing mental getting done—

it’s just a brain’s array.

I’ve thought of brains from two sides now

with mind inside a zombie’s brow—

but that’s delusion I forestall—

a zombie cannot think—at all!

Incorrigible inner spiel,

the irrefutable raw feel,

conflation of ideal with real—

I’ve thought of minds that way.

But how a thermostat could know

how high a heating bill should go,

a little stupid so-and-so

with widest content, eh?

I’ve thought of minds from two sides now

the a priori tells me how

to strongarm Armstrong’s view to fall—

it cannot speak for minds—at all.

“Possible” comes in two brands,

one gives us paws (instead of hands!),

the other Kripke understands—

I see the world that way.

So I conclude I have two sides—

my one can kiss, one fantasize—

which no zombie could cognize

(though zombies still could date!).

I see the world from two sides now,

that brains exist I must allow,

but mind’s inclusion in them calls

for double-aspect view—of all!

A. N. Prior

(sung to “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash; dedicated to Nathan Oaklander  (in part for his resistance to A. Prioristic (sorry!) "Thank Goodness It's Over"-style arguments) and all my esteemed colleagues in the Philosophy of Time Society!!)

Time is a boggling thing,

as ordained by Augustine—

the now is moved or mired?

I fell in with the thought of Prior.

I fell in with the thought of A. N. Prior—

as the clock spins ‘round

the present counts up higher—

as I learn1, learn2, learn3

from A. N. Prior, from A. N. Prior.

I fell in with the thought of A. N. Prior—

as the clock spins ‘round

the present counts up higher—

as I learn1, learn2, learn3

from A. N. Prior, from A. N. Prior.

The pace of now is fleet—

the future incomplete.

The past as long retired

as al dente pain of Prior!

I fell in with the thought of A. N. Prior—

as the clock spins ‘round

the present counts up higher—

as I learn1, learn2, learn3

from A. N. Prior, from A. N. Prior.

Vegan

(Sung to “Feelings” by Morris Albert—dedicated to Professor Helene Dwyer upon the occasion of her retirement (6/06) and to the living witness of her exemplary life of reason and ethics)

Vegan, all my meals are vegan,

There cannot be meat in the meals that I love—

Singer argued so that I faced

My trying to ignore the feelings I gulped—

Vegan—all the meals I eat then

Are vacant of the recent swirls of brainy nervous pain.

Vegan—oo—oo—oo—vegan—

oo—oo—oo—vegan without sentient harms.

Vegan, vegan is the best of luncheons

And vegans have the best of values that Bentham puts forth—

Vegan—my moral life is vegan

and vacant of the recent swirls of brainy nervous pain.

Vegan—all the meals I eat then

Are vacant of the recent swirls of brainy sentient life.

Vegan—oo—oo—oo—vegan—

oo—oo—oo—vegan without any pain

Vegan—oo—oo—oo—vegan—

oo—oo—oo—vegan without any pain. . .

Φ Star

(Sung to "Rock Star" by Nickelback--and dedicated to my friend and cooleague--no typo--Dean Kowalski, who in "Phi Star" fashion will earn early tenure 6/08!)

Enough applying for jobs

to schools I wouldn't attend--

it's like a doctoral exam

that I can't comprehend--

my track hasn't tenured in a

major university.

(Tell me your career goals.)

Give me an endowed chair

amanuensis for ad libs

and an office that I can hear echoes in

with a desk big enough

for my egocentricity.

(So cite me your CV)

Get a JP lead for my MA thesis

voted Delphic Genius by Phronesis

get a Carus lecture

and a Festschrift at thirty-three.

(NYU or Princeton?)

I'll have an email box just for Oxford dons

my name badly sung on “Philosophy Songs”

and slipped between Hume and

Lewis, appropriately.

(So what's the stratagem?)

I'll publish so much that they'll perish

thought I'm anything but cherished-

Cause we're all just gonna be big Φ stars

and have our views raked over on a blog like TAR's

our quips are pithy and our footnotes neat

we'll all be mentioned from a usage feat

and coo over who our mentors are

as some magnitude of a Leiter star

we'll give good wishes with reflexive stares

get tenure granted with a year to spare

hey hey I'm gonna be a Φ star

hey hey I'm gonna be a Φ star

I want to be late like Ludwig sans the hassles

have lots of assistants that I call vassals

get a lot of invitations

where I live opulently

(Another margarita. . .)

I will gloss my work

with newest language

get a cross-listing with friends I reference

a codependent

referentiality

(So what's the stratagem?)

I'll publish so much that they'll perish

thought I'm anything but cherished-

Cause we're all just gonna be big Φ stars

and have our views raked over on a blog like TAR's

our quips are pithy and our footnotes neat

we'll all be mentioned from a usage feat

and coo over who our mentors are

as some magnitude of a Leiter star

we'll give good wishes with reflexive stares

get tenure granted with a year to spare

we'll cry critics as wildest fools

excluded from our pluriverse by Sider house-rules

they'll toll your corpus with a death-bed knell

but supply you a clickable URL

hey hey I'm gonna be a Φ star

I'll publish notes

that flout tradition

and teach Russell with erudition

Have eighth-year TAs edit stuff so long

they accept all the blame when I'm proven wrong!

Cause we're all just gonna be big Φ stars

and have our views raked over on a blog like TAR's

our quips are pithy and our footnotes neat

we'll all be mentioned from a usage feat

and coo over who our mentors are

as some magnitude of a Leiter star

we'll give good wishes with reflexive stares

get tenure granted with a year to spare

we'll cry critics as wildest fools

excluded from our pluriverse by Sider house-rules

they'll toll your corpus with a death-bed knell

but provide you a clickable URL

hey hey I'm gonna be a Φ star

egw eimi I'm gonna be a Φ star!

The Liar Greets the Light

(sung to “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” by Solomon Linda; dedicated to Professor Roger Rigterink on his retirement, 6/08)

R-Rigterink, R-Rigterink, R-Rigterink, R-Rigterink. . .

In the classroom, the logic classroom

The Liar greets the light-

In the classroom, symbolic classroom

The Liar greets the light!

E-E-E-E-E-E--the other way. . .

In self-reference, reflexive reference

The Liar greets the light-

In self-reference, Gödel-case reference

The Liar greets the light!

E-E-E-E-E-E--the other way. . ..

(Roger Rigterink's mind!)

(Roger Rigterink's mind!)

(Roger Rigterink's mind!)

(Roger Rigterink's mind!)

Trust the parsing, not merely farcing

The Liar greets the light-

Crushed by parsing-not kissing arse-ing

The Liar reads out right!

E-E-E-E-E-E--the other way. . .

Don't Study-Think Crappy

(sung to “Don't Worry, Be Happy” by Bobby McFerrin; dedicated to all students who erroneously think, as recently overheard, that “reading in White's classes is optional”)

Here's a little tip I got-

if you want to fill your brain with rot-

Don't study-think crappy!

Philosophy is such a muddle

to understand it is so subtle