10/12/14
Quebec, Quebec
Reader, when was the last time that you were so happy that you skipped
down the block or danced across the street?
That was mamash what I did this evening as I walked past Parliament from
my hotel to the restaurant in Vieux Quebec.
All was well. I had said “New Brunswick
Complete,” and I was in my second favorite city in North America. New York will always be my favorite place in
the world, always.
However, before I
recount my adventures in Fredericton and Quebec and the journey between those
two provincial capitals, I must continue on from my meditations of
yesterday. I realized that the questions
I had asked in the opening were the crux of this argument. If we are to argue that a dog does not have
free will, then I will say that neither do humans. A dog’s actions are consistent enough that if
they do not result from at least some smidgeon of free will, it counters my
argument of consistency proving free will.
I have rejected the argument that free will exists because we feel we
have free will. That is a bad argument. What then about computers? If you want to argue that a robot cannot be
built, whether in a decade or a century or a millennium, that can have free
will, then I will argue that neither can humans. If we are to accept that consciousness is
anything other than a gift given by god, we must needs allow that it is
something that can be recreated in a machine with sufficient scientific and
technological advancement.
I am still no
closer to figuring out where I stand on these issues, but I am better
understanding the form that my arguments would take. I repeat, I refuse to allow that free will is
only possible for the 7 billion or so human minds on the earth. I refuse to allow that free will came into
being 2 million years ago. If we are to
argue this, then when do humans develop free will? Does an infant have free will? A two-year-old? A five-year-old? Where do we draw the line? My argument would be one of scales. As we reach maturity, we develop more and
more free will, just as we evolved more and more free will over the millions of
years. I refuse to allow that it is a
black and white thing, that this species has free will and that all others do
not, that we develop free will at a certain age and had no free will the day
before that.
So, then, what do I say to
someone who agrees with me on those aspects? Do I say that I believe free will
is possible? No, I do not say that. I say that I think it could be possible, that
I see no reason to refute it. When it
comes to the existence of god, I have no such doubts. I say that I believe that god does not
exist. I do not say that I do not
believe god exists. Those are two very
different statements. I guess then, with
free will, I would say that I do not believe free that free will is impossible,
that I do not believe in hard incompatiblism.
However, I cannot say that I do believe free will is impossible, that I
believe in libertarianism.
I only
believe in what I can observe with my five senses or deduce through my
reasoning mind. I’m not sure how emotions
fit into that mix, since I am not exactly deducing them me my reasoning
mind. I am just observing them. The same can be said about what we call free
will. However, free will is seen to be
an Efficient Cause, while emotions are seen to be a Final Cause. There is no reason to doubt that my happiness
exists, since by feeling it I am experiencing happiness. I take actions to increase my happiness. I do not take actions to increase my free
will. I use my free will to increase my
happiness.
The answer to this, to be
perfectly honest, is that it doesn’t matter.
Short of a proof that free will is impossible, I will not start engaging
in hedonism and eschew responsibility for my actions. I will not start eating boxes of cookies and
quarts of ice cream and smoking in the office, saying that it was determined
that I would do so. Even if we had a
proof that determinism was true, it would be irrelevant. If determinism (or hard incompatibilism) is
true, there would be no way for me to change my actions. It is a catch-22. With that, I will close my mediations for
today and pause to fill up another bowl of my pipe.
I had no real schedule for today.
Well, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but there was no time crunch. I had a dinner reservation in Quebec at 6:30
PM, which meant that I had to leave Fredericton by 1:30 PM. All I needed to do in Fredericton was have
brunch, have a Cuban, see the Legislative Assembly, and get my souvenirs. It was the last item that gave me the most
trouble. Without a New Brunswick flag
pin, I would have to return when I went to Nova Scotia two summers from
now. There was no way around that. I slept as late as I could, getting up I
think a little past 10 AM Atlantic Time (New Brunswick is an hour ahead of
Quebec). I took my time getting ready
and took a shower, and headed down to brunch. The
brunch was disappointing for how much they hyped it up. In fact, I just hit the breakfast items, not
really being in the mood for shrimp and scallops first thing in the
morning. I went back up to the room, got
my stuff, and checked out.
I dropped
everything off in the car. It was about
a 30-minute walk to the Legislative Assembly, perfect in this crisp fall air. The timing would be great, too. I would light up my Churchill, walk to the
Legislative Assembly, take my Official picture, oh, wait. Almost as soon as I lit it up, I realized
that Canadian Legislative Assembies don’t get cigars. I had never established an Official protocol,
but US State Capitols most decidedly do not cigars, and I had not had a cigar
for my Official picture in front of any Canadian Legislative Assembly. I had to rearrange the schedule. I would wander around Fredericton, check out
the gift shops, finishing my cigar before I headed to the Legislative
Assembly.
As I walked into town, I
realized how beautiful a place this was, especially in the fall. It was like New England on steroids, even
more charming and even more beautiful. I
soon got to the heart of downtown Fredericton.
This was where I ran into a problem.
Most of the gift shops were closed on Sunday or closed for the
season. The one place that most
definitely sold flag pins was closed for the weekend. Fredericton is a very small town, about twice
the size of Scarsdale, and the tourism season for Canada ended a week ago. What was I to do? I asked at the VC, and he told me to check
the VC by the Quebec border or the one in Edmundston. No, that was too far away. That wouldn’t be Official enough. Granted, it would be better than no pin, but
it wouldn’t be a great option.
I
finished my cigar as I headed to the Legislative Assembly, took some
perfunctory pictures, but my heart wasn’t in it. I said, “New Brunswick Complete,” adding that
I would probably have to come back. I
headed back along the waterfront trail, which was very scenic with the fall
foliage in full bloom. However, it was
not enough. I thought to myself that I
should have just cancelled this whole trip and spent the weekend in the city. I checked the map as I walked, and I realized
that it would only add two hours to stop back in Fredericton as I drove from
Miguasha to Halifax when I went in 2016.
I got back to the hotel, and I tried to call the VCs. No answer.
Was I really going to just wing it and hope that a VC over two hours
away would have what I needed? The one
by the border was closed for the season, so I entered the one in Edmundston
into the GPS.
Not long after I left
Fredericton, I saw the sign for Kings Landing, and the sign showed both a VC
and a gift shop. Sure, why not. I’d get a funny Game of Thrones picture, and
I could take a chance. It was close enough to Fredericton to be Official. There was also a
gas station nearby, and I needed gas. I
had lit up an Aging Room when I left Fredericton, and most of it was still left,
so I parked right out front of the entrance, in the passenger drop-off area,
left my cigar in the car, and put my blinkers on. I asked at the front desk if they had flag
pins. He pointed me to the gift
shop. Could I be so lucky? I walked in, and I saw one of those spinning
racks of keychains. Those were the only
place where they had traditional souvenirs.
There it was! On the other side
of the rack, a New Brunswick flag pin. I
grabbed one and mamash kissed the pin. I
got a few other souvenirs, took some pictures, put my hotel in Quebec in the
GPS, and headed to the gas station. When
I got back on the road, I was happy. All
was well. I said “New Brunswick Complete”
again, meaning it this time.
As I drove,
I realized that New Brunswick was like a combination of New England and
continental Europe. The highway
certainly was, since it had the fall foliage of New England and the driving
culture of Europe, which meant that I was able to drive fast, easily breaking
161 just keeping up with the guy in front of me. My plan was to drive nonstop to my hotel in
Quebec. After I finished the Aging Room,
I lit up an ESG. My next cigar was a
Tattoo, which I would wind up ditching outside the hotel. I made great time on the road, getting to my
hotel before sunset, the first time I arrived in Quebec before sunset, this
being my third trip here in 2 years. An
interesting thing happened in re: my Quest bars. I have had three Quest bars this trip, one
each day. Each time I reached blindly
into the bag, planning to eat whichever one I grabbed, but thinking to myself
which flavor I mamash wanted. I had 12
bars, 3 each of four different flavors.
Each of the three bars I grabbed happened to be the flavor I mamash
wanted. I calculated that the odds of
that happening were 9/440, almost exactly 1 in 49, or about a 2% chance.
Anyway, it was a rather uneventful drive,
except for one thing. With 20 km to my
exit off Aut-20, I was keeping pace with the car next to me, us both going
about 30 km above the speed limit. All
of the sudden, he started to slow down.
What did he see that I didn’t?
There it was, two cop cars on the side of the road. I saw them too late and hit the brakes. Yep, one of them started moving. I moved to the side of the road. He put on his sirens. I slowed down and prepared to face the
music. Wait, he had driven past me. Was someone else going even faster? Had I really been so lucky? I was so lucky.
After I got to my hotel, I checked in, but I
got lost looking for my room. When I
finally found it, I was delighted that it had a view of Parliament. Unfortunately, the windows were bolted shut,
so smoking in the room would not be an option. I got lost again as I tried to find the
elevator, even unsuccessfully trying to go out through the exit stairs. I found a staff member, so I asked him, “How
do I get out of here?” He laughed and
asked me where I wanted to go. I told
him the elevator, and he pointed me in the right direction. As soon as I left the hotel, I realized that
Parliament was right across the street.
That was what led me to the scene with which I opened this entry, so I
will pause again as I finish my pipe and head back up to my room before I
finish my entry.
Besides New York, Scarsdale, parts of White Plains, and a small
section of Brookline, Massachusetts, I know Vieux Quebec better than I know anywhere
else in the world. I did not need a map
to find the restaurant, I just need to know where on the map the restaurant
was. Rue Saint Louis is nigh as familiar
to me as Park Avenue or Crane Road and at least as familiar as Mamaroneck
Avenue or Harvard Street. It was still
light enough to take a decent picture in front of Parliament, but I will
probably go back to take my Official picture in the morning. My sheer happiness did not end until I
arrived at the restaurant, walking by all the familiar sites, even going
through the alley where I had taken my first Official U of 2013.
I will not go into the details of the meal,
but it was good even if overpriced and with meager portions. I pretty much ordered the same thing I got
when I went to the French restaurant by Lincoln Center with Aliyah: terrine, a
game bird, and a glass of rosé. After my
meal, not liking any dessert options enough to justify either the dollars or
the carbs, I lit up a Punch and headed towards the plaque. I stopped at the first souvenir shop I saw to
get a flag pin, a much easier task in Quebec than Fredericton. Quebec is about 15 times the population of
Fredericton and a much more popular tourist destination, so the souvenir shops
are open late, even on a Sunday, even this late in the year. I then went to the gift shop by the plaque,
getting a keychain there, not that I don’t have enough keychains from
Quebec.
Then it was time to pay homage
to the Plaque. This is, by far, bar
none, the most mamash WHS Plaque in the world. There is even a plaque to the Plaque, it is
that mamash. I knelt in front of the Plaque,
paying homage to the Plaque because it properly pays homage to the WHS. I took some pictures, decent enough in the
dark, but I will probably take better ones in the morning. The great thing about this Plaque is that it
is available to the public, 24/7/365. To
see the Plaques for the Statue of Liberty or Independence Hall, you need to go
on a tour and only during a certain window of time. This Plaque is just out in the open for all
to enjoy. Canada knows how to treat
their Plaques.
I walked back, and I got
a nice t-shirt for myself. That just
left the gift for the one person who will be receiving a present from this
trip. Actually, maybe I’ll get some
maple syrup candies for Ryan and Emily at the Duty Free. I found something for Aliyah, and,
when I walked by the register, I saw a cute cashier there. Well, I found her cute. I don’t think any of the guys at the cigar
store would have found her attractive.
Actually, they probably would have laughed about her as soon as they
walked out of the store. We have very
different ideas of aesthetics. She had a
pimply face, but she had a great smile, and there was a je ne sais quoi to her
face. I was reminded of New Year’s Eve
2012 when I convinced myself that I fell in love with a clerk at a souvenir
shop, and, when we got back to the room after midnight, mamash toasted, about
to pass out, I had told Sokol and Larsen that I was going to move to Quebec and
marry her. They had told me that I would
need to learn French, and that was the end of that dream. Okay, back to the present, I gave her a big smile, and from the way she laughed embarrassedly and started playing with her
hair, I knew that I had made her day.
Done with my shopping for the night, I went up the fortifications, also
available to the public 24/7/365, for no charge, and explored a little and
ditched the cigar before going back down.
I took some more pictures at Parliament and was soon back at my
hotel. I was hungry. Those meager portions, my Quest bar, and the
disappointing brunch buffet were not enough food for me the day. I wanted a cookie. I asked at the front desk where I could get a
cookie. The receptionist looked at me
like I was crazy. She said I could ask
at the bar for cookies and a glass of milk.
They did not have cookies, but they had an overpriced dessert menu. I would wait for breakfast. Hell, I might even go over to the Frontenac
for breakfast. I went up to my room,
grabbed my computer and pipe, headed back down, lit up my Ardor on a bench in
the driveway, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that
I can get to sleep.
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