The problem with being the first person to do something is that the thing you’re doing has no name – at least not one that has any meaning. I was reminded of that while watching the Grammy award show the other night. Some old guy was talking about the enduring quality of “black music.” I doubt that the first musicians to make so-called black music thought that’s what they were doing at the time. I’m guessing that they thought it was “music.” The naming of it came after, and was useful because it helped white musicians know where to go to steal stuff.
Recently I realized that my writings on this blog suffer from not having a descriptive label. Is it philosophy done poorly, or just humor disguised as trolling? Readers want to know.
To be fair, I think most readers get what I’m doing. But hardly a day goes by when someone doesn’t “helpfully” point out that I am embarrassing myself with my total lack of knowledge of philosophy, physics and logic. I would feel bad about that, except that usually in the same set of comments I will hear, “You are not original. You stole your idea from (fill in the blank with a famous dead philosopher)!” So at least I’m accidentally stealing from respectable dead people who were apparently quite clueless.
It’s time to name what I do. I name it philosotainment.
It’s philosophy for the sole purpose of entertainment, not enlightenment. And it doesn’t try to be right, or further our understanding of reality. In fact, the best arguments of philosotainment are clearly wrong, but no two people can agree why. Sorting it out is the point. The fun of philosotainment is in finding out something about your own thinking compared to your fellow humans. The particular topic of discussion is nothing but the vehicle for that journey.
You wouldn’t criticize a jigsaw puzzle because it comes in many pieces and you have to assemble it yourself. That’s the point of the puzzle. But until I labeled my writing philosotainment, many of you figured it was just broken philosophy, or bad humor, or some damned thing you couldn’t put a finger on.
Many people complained in their comments that it “doesn’t matter” if we have free will, or if the universe is intelligence, or whatever the topic. I agree. And it doesn’t matter if you assemble a jigsaw puzzle either. The right answer never matters when it comes to philosotainment. It’s all about the conversation.
My first commercial philosotainment was my book, God’s Debris. The readers that understood what it was usually enjoyed it. The philosophy majors who wondered why it didn’t further their understandings of the universe were literally furious. Their angry reviews on Amazon.com were much along the lines of, “This spaghetti is defective because I can’t use it as a ladder!” They didn’t understand that it was philosotainment, even though I warned them in the introduction, albeit apparently not clearly enough. That was probably my fault for not yet coining the word.
I know my readers, and some of you will start squawking that I clearly believe every word I write, as evidenced by (fill in the blank with evidence). This philosotainment thing, some will say, is just a way to cover for my long history of embarrassing stupidity. That’s probably why only someone like me could invent philosotainment; I don’t mind that people think I’m a clueless goober as long as they enjoy themselves while thinking it.