Blackened Paper

Academic Papers

"Keeping Metaphysics Respectable: A Methodological Critique"

Master's Thesis, UBC Open Collections, 2021

"Why Are Qualia So Mysterious? A Materialist’s Story"
"Problems in Philosophy of Love"

Unpublished article, 2019

"Social Darwinism: a Socratic Dialogue"

Unpublished article, 2017

Poetry

Aurora

It was late into that transatlantic night...

There I was, sleepless eye

Time, whiling me by

In lazy languid flight.

 

I was configuring

An experimental extended exposure setting

On my photographic apparatus

(In order to track the pitch and roll of the aeroplane).

When softly through that glittery dark

She swam up alongside: Lambent Borealis -

Whether to say hello

Or just to give a show

I only can't know.

 

The camera saw her first

Leading eye to her.

I had been blankly watching my exposure

When finally I blinked, unsure -

Green noise creepin' across the picture?

Something had to be faulty.

There was: me.

 

With a shimmer and a flick

And scales smooth as a trick,

She was mesmer flame without a wick

And I was moth in the fire's lick

 

My face pasted

With sillied smile,

My face smashed

On the port glass,

Drinking in the sight, til eyes sear -

I nearly dropped my gear!

I managed a glance 'round me in a ring

To see if my "fellow man" had noticed a thing.

But all were windows closed, eyes shaded,

Blinds down or blinders up:

By neon light, vision was screened.

So much for them.

I turned my headlights back to the sheen

Only to be outshone twice over:

Auric Aurora, had broke onto the scene.

Auroras both, the twin sisters tangled,

I assume over whose turn it was,

To flirt with those coquettish stars

(If I'm honest, the blond tries too hard,

Chasing 'em round n' round,

Day and night).

 

I watched them play for a spell

But eventually, eyes fell

Shutters closed

And off I dozed.

 

I slept swell.

And now must dwell:

Was it all made up?

Dredged from a dream well?

 

It's suspected.

 

But to be objected:

I was left a photograph, an etching of light,

An uncommon Kodak moment quite -

Indeed, so much coulda gone wrong

With this, such a long cliché,

And yet it made the day.

 

Or so I would say.