My Responsibility as a Not-Yet Father, by Steve Sangapore *Featured Image courtesy of Ricky Turner on Unsplash* Steve Sangapore has returned! Steve always comes in with interesting and thought provoking pieces, but I think this is his best one yet. Don’t just take my word for it though, take a look and see for yourself! Birth, school, work, children, death. It’s just… what we do. Or at least what society expects of the average person. I was born, I went to school, and I have a career. So the next giant life milestone in this five-part existence is having children. Over the years I have done a great deal of thinking about the ethics of having children and how I can personally justify it. The central concept I’ve wrestled with most is whether or not…
What “God” Is: A Philosophical-Scientific Essay by Steve Sangapore
Pictured Above:LIBERATION72″ x 48″ x 1.5″Oil, mirror, and 24k gold leaf on canvas2020 What God Is (WITHOUT THE WOO WOO) Why God is the Pursuit of Meaning The evolution of the concept of God is one of the oldest, deepest and most important developments to ever have risen out of the human psyche. Throughout almost every culture on Earth we have seen evidence of belief in the divine. The idea of God or a creating force has evolved from the earliest known manifestations represented as human-animal hybrids, to pantheons of intervening superhuman gods, to God as man made flesh on Earth, to more contemporary notions of God as the totality of the universe and its contents. Humans in their desire for answers to life’s most pressing questions have creatively reimagined and transformed God over the…
The Poetry of Emily Strauss
I Will Be Buried with Mice Archaeologists in Egypt have recovered about 50 mummified animals, including mice, from a well-preserved and finely painted tomb.. NYT 4/6/19 My name is Ta-Shirit. Let my tomb be painted in ochre and lapis with falcon wings outspread on the lintel. See my life. There sits my husband Tutu on his throne watching over us. I hold my daughter’s hand another falcon glides by. She plays hand games as the mice run underfoot. I love them all, my young husband who comes with furry animals for me to pet, who brings our beautiful child into the winter sun, the second wife sweet and doting to us. We are happy together.The mice eat crumbs their rustling at night a sign that day would return; all would be right…