Morality or Profit; a corporate response to a global crisis

The farming industry is witnessing a scientific revolution, a revolution with the capacity to manipulate individual grains, engineer crops and chemically protect fields. The revolution is genetic modification. GMO’s (genetically modified organisms) cover a range of treatment; from pesticide resistance through to mutating core genetic structures. If the genetic material (DNA) has been modified in a way that is not natural than the crop is GM.[1] Genetically modifying crops is a widely-debated issues with moral reasoning at the core of the argument. Global health and wellbeing is the artillery used by both parties. Projects such as golden rice, a vitamin A enriched grain, elevates agribusinesses ethos to great heights. The production of a “super-grain” that reduces vitamin A deficiency is truly a worthy feat. Yet this humanitarian image is a veil that covers the true ethos of agribusinesses. The debate needs to look beyond the moral concerns and question the political endeavours of the industry.

The King who killed God

The English Civil War is a widely disputed event, conflicting opinions regarding who and why it occurred often bounce between Parliamentary blame, Charles’ “Evil Counsellors” and Charles himself. Due to the complexity of the preamble leading up to the war and a limited wordcount, I am going to focus on Charles tyrannical behaviour which forced his subjects into reactionary action. This essay is going to hold Charles to account for the causation of the Civil War, focusing on the abuse dealt to the country under the guise of divine right. Through the rejection of divine right, from the people it uncoupled Christian morality from English values, allowing for the unprecedented actions of the Civil War to unfold.

Letters from a lost generation

The correspondence between Vera Brittain and Roland Leighton are a powerful insight into personal experiences during the First World War. Within this post I will be analysing one of the letters contained in Letters from a Lost Generation. The collection as a whole is a powerful read but I have condensed my focus to the one letter dated 25th April 1915 where I analyse the shift in gender roles that took place during the war period.

What would it mean for ‘me’ to ‘survive death’?

Upon setting out to explore what it would mean to survive death, I instantly found myself imagining a dystopian future where the human race has lost its youth. Sagging skin and crippled figures clutching mobility aids, riddled with sciatica and unable to hear a thing, an undying race, refusing to leave the planet. Boredom settled in many centuries ago, a world full of chequers and chess masters with nothing else to do. But alas, to my relief the human body would not survive such longevity and would die. Hurrah! So now this returns me to the question, what would it mean for ‘me’ to ‘survive death’?

Am I Evil

I find the importance in questioning what it means to be human. A key element of our existence lies within morality. I am interested in trying to identify where our morality stems from and what causes change in our beliefs of right, wrong and acceptable behaviour. What coincides within this is, is the notion of evil; arguably anti-morals. Within this post I am setting out to identify what it means to be evil. I am interested in knowing if such thing as evil exists, and if so why it does. What drives me to these questions is looking at the economic divide that we have on a global scale, I am at a loss to understand how there is such a level of indifference to poverty. I am trying to identify why this indifference is not just present, yet is acceptable.

Death as a tool to shape the way in which life can be lived

Upon reading Being and Time, my interpretation of living has been affected, Martin Heidegger has introduced me into the realms of possibilities as appose to a world only filled with actualities. After coming to an understanding of the concept that Heidegger enforces, death becomes beautiful, and the reaper is no longer as grim.

Lifeless – Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

The rain was beating down on the streets of London bringing the whole metropolis down to a level of equality, soggy trench coats and drowned haircuts. Eyes cast down as the weight of the rain bore down on the necks and shoulders of the citizens. All that was being witnessed on this bleak Tuesday morning was the stomping of boots through exploding puddles. The rain was merciless, harems of people who were unable to take the relentless beating huddled in shop doorways. Others were clutching cheap newspapers over their heads as they marched through the torrent, only to have the ink dribble over their fingers leaving them stained and mottled. Those fortunate enough to have umbrellas, where still at the mercy of the weather as the wind was tearing through their feeble frames and flipping them inside out. Bins became littered with bent prongs and torn cloth, casting grave like shadows across the wet path, the weather was taking no prisoners today.