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In a state of boredom approaching exasperation, I sat through yet another senseless, seemingly endless philosophical lecture; this one on the Saint Thomas Aquinas approaches to proving the existence of God. Even to a lowly Freshman, such as I at the time, the arguments didn't make any kind of sense at best and insulted the intelligence at worst. But my philosophy professor, like most of the Christian Brothers when lecturing on a religious subject, presented them as though they came straight from the mouth of the Absolute. Perhaps they thought as much, but I had my opinions on whose mouths they came from. However, on a previous occasion I turned in a well thought out thesis that critiqued Aristotle's Syllogistic Reasoning. When it got back to me, it was decorated with a very large distinctly red “F” and no further comment. So not being eager for a repeat performance, I temporarily acquiesced to the Saint Thomas Aquinas nonsense — accepting it as so much more bland propaganda one who attends a Catholic college is forced to endure.
But it was finally question time.
I had waited the whole period for it, not only because it signaled the end of class, but on my mind was a question I presumed was somewhat related to the subject, Cause and Effect. Nevertheless, it was one which had perplexed me most of my life. All the ministers and priests to whom I posed it in the past simply issued what I came to know was the traditional response to any question they couldn’t answer, “Pray and God will give you the answer.” Big deal! Several pairs of jeans with big holes in the knees from over use hadn’t accomplished a blazing thing on that score. But I also came to know, and quite rapidly, the ecclesiastics who spoke those words were the kind ones. Others, to whom I posed the same question, for reasons I never quite understood, simply became highly indignant. But here at last was a man I knew had the answer — a real old time philosopher — and here was my big opportunity.
Before anyone else realized it was question time, my arm shot up.
Simultaneously the professor’s beady eyes clicked on me. After a deep sigh and a pause he remarked sarcastically, “So you are not dead Mr. Carter!” Then through a partial grin he asked. “What's your question Mr. Carter?”
He sounded as though he was surprised that I could have one. The class, consisting of about sixty unmitigated morons, averaging in age about five years less than I (and who still thought Moby Dick was some strange kind of venereal disease), burst out in a loud snicker. I rose immediately, however, and asked quite loudly:
“Which came first sir, the chicken or the egg?”
Being quite impressed with his obvious philosophical knowledge, I honestly thought he knew the answer. But instant flabbergast flashed over his face. And though I was on the rear most row of seats I could almost feel his body tremble. Following that, he gave me a glare as sharp as a piercing needle. Then, after a pause, he almost shouted, “The answer to that question, Mr. Carter, is in high metaphysics! We are discussing Cause and Effect! Or were you sleeping too long to realize that Mr. Carter?”
His vocal tone appeared to imply my mental ability was well below that of those who venture into the realm of his so-called “high metaphysics.” Perhaps my immediate reaction was insult, but maybe I believed him. At any rate I soon delved into a search to locate an institution that offered his high metaphysics, though at the time I didn’t have the faintest idea what it was. Prior to graduation, I finally located a Midwestern college which specialized in psychology and philosophy and which had a price I could afford. I enrolled in an off-campus graduate level discipline, and attended both colleges simultaneously — one to round out my knowledge of the science of Electronic Engineering, my chosen profession; the other to satisfy my curiosity about the chicken or the egg paradox.
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