endsthegame (
endsthegame) wrote in
fandomhigh2016-06-02 01:30 pm
Entry tags:
Practical Philosophy, Thursday
"Every once in a while, the island likes to remind us that our futures are not as empty and expansive as they might seem," Ender said. "Or perhaps, the lesson you can take from these weekends is that the possibilities are endless - that your future might not be what you think it will be. Sometimes it's good to remember that whatever we see, whether it be this particular quirk of weirdness, or the appearance of our future children, or some other twist of Fandom, is a snapshot."
He smiled faintly.
"These weekends were terrifying to me when I was younger," he said. "The island chose to show me what I'd become if I remained on a certain course, and it was not what I expected it to be. It wasn't enough to make me change my trajectory, though I thought it was - I just wanted to change it for the worse. But it gave me a small push, a small taste, of my own failures, my own weaknesses, and what they could do to the people around me."
He picked up a bottle of water. "Of course, maybe that's not what happened to you," he said. "Maybe your vision was happy; my later ones were, as if they were reflective of my new, better choices. But that doesn't have to mean anything. Nor do terrible visions have to mean anything, either. I suspect it's different for all of us. Still, if this happened to you: how likely do you think it is that your future will come to pass? Does it mean anything? It's not an unavoidable fate - my own experiences can tell you that much. But do you think there is anything relevant about what you saw? Did you see portents, warnings in your future? Something you should do or change? Or do you believe we can't change what happens next, and so these visions can't really matter one way or another?"
He took a sip.
"Those are good questions even if you didn't have a weird weekend, actually," he said. "In traditional philosophy, determinism is the firm philosophical belief that our lives are unchangeable, and everything is predetermined. Our free will is meaningless, an illusion. A weaker version is the idea that some things are just meant to happen, and while we can affect smaller things, the big things happen as they should." He tilted his head. "What do you think?"
He smiled faintly.
"These weekends were terrifying to me when I was younger," he said. "The island chose to show me what I'd become if I remained on a certain course, and it was not what I expected it to be. It wasn't enough to make me change my trajectory, though I thought it was - I just wanted to change it for the worse. But it gave me a small push, a small taste, of my own failures, my own weaknesses, and what they could do to the people around me."
He picked up a bottle of water. "Of course, maybe that's not what happened to you," he said. "Maybe your vision was happy; my later ones were, as if they were reflective of my new, better choices. But that doesn't have to mean anything. Nor do terrible visions have to mean anything, either. I suspect it's different for all of us. Still, if this happened to you: how likely do you think it is that your future will come to pass? Does it mean anything? It's not an unavoidable fate - my own experiences can tell you that much. But do you think there is anything relevant about what you saw? Did you see portents, warnings in your future? Something you should do or change? Or do you believe we can't change what happens next, and so these visions can't really matter one way or another?"
He took a sip.
"Those are good questions even if you didn't have a weird weekend, actually," he said. "In traditional philosophy, determinism is the firm philosophical belief that our lives are unchangeable, and everything is predetermined. Our free will is meaningless, an illusion. A weaker version is the idea that some things are just meant to happen, and while we can affect smaller things, the big things happen as they should." He tilted his head. "What do you think?"

Re: Talk.
Generic reunion imagery that gave away nothing.
"I was still quite handsome," he offered. "And charming. Not that I expected otherwise."
Unlike whatever powers he'd had, ones that he could almost remember, nibbling at the edges of his memory like tiny fish.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.