I remember being intrigued by the title of this book years ago, as it is a revised and updated version of an earlier work of Michael Grosso. The title seems to imply that we all have a choice as we are leaving the physical body, the option of expiring into nothingness or moving to a realm beyond the material world. I wondered why one would choose the former, and exactly who is making that choice? By the time one finishes the (...) logical sequence of evidence, history, and theory that unfolds in the book, it becomes clear that the title’s inference is not what some might expect. Grosso believes that there are no final choices. Accepting finality is not logical when one comes to believe that our consciousness survives bodily death, and he believes that physical death is not permanent extinction, but a gateway to more living. The underlying and not so subtle message in the book has not only stood the test of time, but has become more relevant in view of today’s state of affairs. Considering the increasing threat of nuclear obliteration, climatic shifts, world divisiveness and conflict, natural disasters, pollution, famine, mass shootings, drug epidemics, and refugees roaming the planet, are these potential calamities something that could jolt the collective mind into a greater spiritual reality? The author has an interesting theory based upon near death experience research. (shrink)

I must admit that I had some reservations about reading this book, as all I was told was that it chronicled the author’s signs received from a discarnate friend. The prospect of wading through yet another book about pennies sent from deceased loved ones seemed onerous and a task to which I did not look forward. Not that I am averse to such manifestations and after-death communication, quite the contrary. I just prefer the evidence to be more convincing. Finding a (...) coin that has become so devalued in our currency that half the people who drop them no longer bother to pick them up doesn’t do it for me. However, to my great delight, Michael’s message is no more about the signs than calligraphy is about the paper. The death of a loved one is often a trigger for exploration and a search for meaning, and it certainly was for the author. Following the death of a close friend, he was witness to an unfolding symphony of communications, first dismissed as coincidences, but eventually embraced and treasured in an awakened consciousness. In this case, a journey began as the result of the appearance of a simple marble that was owned by the deceased. After Michael’s friend Frank had passed, he decided to engage in an experiment by placing the marble with Frank in his coffin, specifically in his suit pocket. His initial motivation was simply to return the treasured item to its owner, but in the recesses of his mind Michael also contemplated a possible confirmation from his friend that he still survived in some fashion. He wrapped the marble in the paper on which Frank’s eulogy was written, and on the top of the paper wrote “If you are ever around, toss this back.”. (shrink)

What should philosophers do about war? That question has been answered in various ways throughout the history of philosophy, and it appears to still trouble members of this distinguished profession in these times. A reason for the current uneasiness is that while philosophy in our century has largely neglected the problem of the world, it is apparent that there will soon be no world for philosophers to neglect unless an antidote for war is found. Since psychologists, statesmen, religious leaders, and (...) even some military men are doing their best to defeat war, philosophers begin to wonder if the antidote might not be found after all in some philosophers' stonee. We are witnessing, then, a return--awkward, unsure, yet encouraging--of professional philosophical concern with the pressing human problems of the world. (shrink)

Explores the literary dimension in the practice of philosophy by eighteenth-century authors, including Rousseau, Kant, Leibniz, Herder, Hume, Pope, Shaftesbury, and Wollstonecraft. A wide range of literary structures and stylistic questions are considered.

When one sees an opening chapter entitled “From Science to Love” it begs for further reading. After all, for most these are incongruent terms that represent two seemingly opposite sides in a debate, logic, and systematic evaluation vs. emotion. There have been many books written about the convergence of science and spirituality, and one cannot help but notice how some of today’s physicists are sounding more like spiritualists than scientists, but Dr. Portola uses this platform as wake up call for (...) humanity. There is a brief discussion about some well-known enlightened beings in our history, including founders of today’s organized religions, and our progression from animism to polytheism, and eventually monotheism, but Portola astutely points out the role that science played in explaining natural phenomena. Our ancestors could not have imagined these discoveries, and it was science that moved us past idol worship to spiritual independence. The author is well versed in the primary disciplines of research that suggest survival and devotes part of the book to discussions of the nature of consciousness, neuroscience, thought transmission, psychokinesis, near-death experiences, reincarnation, mediumship, and instrumental TransCommunication, but the overall message is clear that science can show us the road but changing the world paradigm starts with individual transformation. In the discussion of the neurosciences and parapsychology it is suggested that perhaps an adjustment to the scientific method is indicated by putting more value on the anecdotal personal experiences that are so prevalent. In his discussion about a paradigm shift Portola suggests that all people, including scientists and mediums, will understand more by first finding themselves through contemplation and reflection. It is only after we open to the subtle layers of consciousness that we can achieve the necessary balance needed to reach our objectives. The suggestion that scientists also need to contemplate and reflect upon the bigger picture seems contrary to the definition of science, but I suspect that Portola is correct. (shrink)

This book constructs a theory of ruins that celebrates their vitality and unity in aesthetic experience. Its argument draws upon over 100 illustrations prepared in 40 countries. Ruins flourish as matter, form, function, incongruity, site, and symbol. Ruin underlies cultural values in cinema, literature and philosophy. Finally, ruin guides meditations upon our mortality and endangered world.

It often makes for interesting discussion whether or not knowledge of survival evidence makes one more prepared for the death of a loved one. Raw emotion will almost always win out over intellectual reasoning, so the very notion of being prepared may be nothing more than fanciful thinking. However, a recent occurrence in my life has led me to believe that knowledge and experience can lead to acceptance. After losing my fifteen year old daughter in the blink of an eye (...) sixteen years ago, I was firmly entrenched in materialist thinking and I looked upon the suggestion of life after death as ridiculous and hurtful. I was mired in the deep chasm of despair with no hope of ever escaping the horror. Although I was apparently the recipient of what many would call striking examples of after death communications, I summarily dismissed each occurrence as coincidence. Despite the preponderance of the evidence I fought the acceptance of such a possibility for several years. Fortunately I journaled each episode and eventually sought the help of a statistician to help me calculate the odds against chance of each communication occurring. Only after seeing the hard numbers involving twenty incidents, each with odds against chance exceeding a million to one, did I relent. So, after spending the last sixteen years immersed in the investigation of survival, learning extensively about the empirical and anecdotal evidence, would I be better prepared for a future death of a loved one? (shrink)

Western civilization since the Renaissance, argues Gray Cox, conceives of material things as objectively knowable and hence manipulable by the detached subject. We knowers are masters of nature. The presuppositions about how things are known and used also color our attitudes concerning human problems. Our culture is conflict centered. When we try to give substance to the concept of peace, we draw a blank: peace is the static absence of war. We do not bring peace to fruition because we have (...) no inkling of the kind of thought it requires. Cox shakes up our habitual ways of thinking in order to give peace a chance. The ways of peace are activities in which subjects mutually engage with openness to understanding. We grow in intersubjective community by working together. (shrink)

Western civilization since the Renaissance, argues Gray Cox, conceives of material things as objectively knowable and hence manipulable by the detached subject. We knowers are masters of nature. The presuppositions about how things are known and used also color our attitudes concerning human problems. Our culture is conflict centered. When we try to give substance to the concept of peace we draw a blank: peace is the static absence of war. We do not bring peace to fruition because we have (...) no inkling of the kind of thought it requires. Cox shakes up our habitual ways of thinking in order to give peace a chance. The ways of peace are activities in which subjects mutually engage with openness to understanding. We grow in intersubjective community by working together. (shrink)

Smith and Fred D. Miller, Jr., make sweeping claims for the intellectual importance of science fiction, putting heavy weight on its pedagogical and problem-raising values. But these values appear secondary. What if science fiction is primarily a form of fiction—not wisdom-seeking but pleasure-giving? Lee F. Werth pens a “story” which is all discussion about time travel. It is unclear what it proves. Monte Cook offers brilliant and amusing paradoxes on time machines, including the oddity of visiting oneself in the past. (...) Cook has another paper of limited philosophical importance about identity in a specific science fiction world. Joseph C. Pitt gives a negative piece that rules out any plausible literature of alternative worlds based on tampering with causation, since we cannot conceive of a world without causation. This shortchanges the imagination a priori and closes the door on current philosophical debate. (shrink)

Pascal, the mathematical genius, intellectually explored the curious notion of the mathematically infinite, and Pascal, the saintly mystic, experienced passionately the ineffable presence of the existentially infinite, God. In this ingenious essay, Gabriel Mony traces Pascal’s movement from one infinite to the other. The before and after for Pascal is divided by his “Night of Fire.” Mony argues that before Pascal was tempted by the rationalist vision of understanding all nature through mathematical reasoning. Since God designed the universe mathematically, the (...) human intellect, if it pressed its theorems far enough, might equal God’s understanding. (shrink)

That life probably exists on other bodies in the universe is now a commonplace. That intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe--taking for granted its presence on earth--is a widespread hope. Scientific efforts are under way, including space probes, special observations, and broadcast programs, in the systematic search for extraterrestrial intelligence. The question naturally arises whether other human beings are somewhere out there. Fresh avenues of philosophic reflection are opening concerning ethics, theology, and the metaphysics of being human. Imagination has (...) been abundantly working over such issues extraterrestrially. Science fiction has run worlds away from science fact. Surrounded by yearning, fantasy, and popular culture, we need to clarify the intellectual grounds for work on extraterrestriality. The topic of other worlds and other intelligent life is an ancient and recurrent theme in great world cultures, including the Western tradition. (shrink)