(c) Riccardo Cresido
I'm about to say something I don't think anyone could have anticipated.
I'm so ready to be done with Ethics. It's too, too much. It's infiltration into my thoughts, my kids thoughts, how I see everything—I'm weighed down by it.
I took M— to Zero Dark Thirty last night, and prior to the movie M— and I are discussing details from an earlier Astrobiology lecture regarding evolution and the theory that the rise of early homo sapiens took place on the coastline of Africa where there was an abundance of fish, which supplied their diet with enough Omega 3s to support the development of the growing modern human brain.
M— suddenly interjects: "I wonder if that's why the Greeks where so advanced. There was next to no produce on Greece. All they could eat was fish."
I'm fine with her supposition. But I don't know that I'll ever get around to finding the answer for her. I'm worn out by this gray matter expansion and the strange shift in dynamic I'm noticing with Mr. PNU.
And then there's the movie in general. I'm watching all of this torture in the beginning, writhing in my chair at the blatant disregard for the Categorical Imperative. Yeah, it's seeped in that deep beneath my skin.
I can't say I enjoyed the movie. At all. And when I realized this evening, once I'd killed the Hume/Aristotle exam that I have nine more days without either more ethical arguments or the presence of Mr. PNU there was genuine relief.
I also figured out that, should summer end and I want more philosophical enlightenment, I can just join the Philosophy Club and go to their sponsored lectures every so often to get my fix. That too, was a relief.
I think I'll add an extra 1000 mg of Omega 3 this week to my nightly supplement routine. And then I'm going to try and forget about Greece for as long as I can.