I don’t get it. Why does it remind you more of the Wiccan Rede than Augustine does if it does not include or imply do no harm?
Most likely because the phrasing sounds archaic.
What? What phrasing? In which? My kingdom for an antecedant.
I hope Helen Hunt lives by that rule. I would like to have a nice back-rub done unto me.
What’s wrong with Hillel’s That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor?
Both! The phrasing in both sounds archaic. You see, somehow, they both sound like an old-fashioned way of phrasing the idea.
Or perhaps it is simply the fact that they contain the “do what you will.” part.
What the…??
What “it”? Are you following this at all? I said that the Rede reminded me of Augustine’s quote. Bizzwire quoted me and said that it reminded him more of Crowley, but Crowley — unlike Augustine — left out any caveate about hurting others. I therefore asked why Crowley is more remindful of the Rede than Augustine, given that Augustine paraphrases the Rede while Crowley does not. And then you jumped in with vague references to phrasing, not delineating which phrase was which, referencing all sorts of "it"s and "both"s and such, when there are three distinct phrasings. Please pause, take a breath, read this four times if you have to, and if you still feel like you must answer, then sit on your hands and read it four times again. Then, have someone else read and explain it to you. Tell them what you think, and have them post it for you in intelligible English.
Then, since he was not posting, I put in my two cents that they sound kinda similar. Okay, so I haven’t gotten through to you. Well, I still tried to help. Take a chill pill, wouldja?
They? *What * they? There are three. Two are similar. One is not. Crowley is NOT similar to the Rede. Is there anyone who can explain this to you? Or will you post yet another surprising non sequitur?
All three then. Do you deny that all contain the idea that people should do what they like? True, one ignores the not harming people, but still, you are making a mountain out of a mole hill. I propose we wait for MrDibble to clarify.
Yes I do.
Were this the Pit, I would tootle you with vigor.
Damn. Thank you.
An example: I hate split pea soup. But Mr. Neville likes it, so I might heat up a can of it for him. That’s something that would be hateful to me, but isn’t to him.
It also runs into the “who is your neighbor” question. Does it apply to animals? You might think that sounds silly, but a white person living in the American South in the 1850s would probably have thought that applying it to black people was equally silly. (Note: this is not to be taken as equating civil rights with animal rights, just an example of how ideas of “who is your neighbor” might change over time)
It’s not that there’s something wrong with that rule (I try to live by it in general, whenever possible), it’s just a long way from a complete system of ethics.
Perhaps we should add: “…unless he wants you to.” to Hillel’s guidance. That covers split-pea soup lovers and S&M enthusiasts.
Oh dear, I hope you didn’t wait long…
It reminded me of it because it always sounded like a response - it’s formulated in the way that sounds like it follows on from the Rede - one imagined it being expounded as:
Those soft Wiccans say “an it harm none, do as thou wilt”, but I say “Do as thou wilt” shall be the whole of the law, 'cos I’m a bad man, me. Grrr!
when I said “I prefer it” I wasn’t meaning it as a value judgement, BTW. I meant “my brain prefers to follow this connection between statements”. Of couse, it turns out Crowley’s Thelema likely predates Gardnerian Wicca, so it falls flat, but that’s the way my brain was thinking.
I want to know why hardly anyone who quotes that bit of Crowley ever quotes the next line.
“Love is the Law, Love under Will.”
Thelema is a bit involuted.
Moral selfishness is what’s wrong with it. My version gives people what they want, not what you think they need.
Of couse, you are left with the exercise of finding out what others would like done to them. I think mostly this would involve gifts of money and oral sex, but hey, as long as they’re also giving you what you want… 
Under that rule, this guy was doing the right thing.
And that opens a whole nother can of worms. Terri Schiavo’s parents and husband both thought they were trying to do what she would have wanted done.
Good point. (Although there are those that would contend exactly that: a person has a right to freely choose to undergo death and cannibalism at the hands of another. I don’t number myself among them).
Are you thinking a rule must eliminate conflict to be valid? Yes, both sides thought they were doing what Terry would have wanted. Only one side was right. But the mere fact that neither they nor we KNOW which side was right should not hobble our acceptance of a rule; all rules depend on people to interpret and filter them through their best understanding of a given situation.
Me neither.
I’m not saying the rule isn’t valid, I’m saying it’s not a sufficient system of ethics- you may need other rules as well to figure out what to do in some situations.
I suspect you can’t have a complete system of ethics that told you what to do in all moral dilemmas, never contradicted itself, and was acceptable to most people. I strongly suspect that, if there were such a system of ethics, it would not be simple enough to express on a bumper sticker.
Because then you have to explain what Crowley means by “Love”, and the many, many, many ways it differs from anyone else’s definition, especially the Christian one.
Loosely speaking (and leaving room for the proverbial grey areas, of course), religious traditions have tended to gravitate to one of two positions w/regard to words:
• Words are powerful, sacred; naming things sometimes invokes them or in some cases gives one power over them. Words have very exact meanings and they bind things.
or
• Words are the tools of the verbal artist, and the good artist is far better than the clumsy one at conveying the sense of things to another, but meaning is always to a person and words are always an approximation in the endeavor to bridge the gap between one person’s understanding and another person’s comprehension of it as originally intended. That which is truly holy can, by definition, never be defined; to put it into words and then consider the words holy is always, inevitably, to enshrine something lesser than that which was originally described in words. And in lieu of defining, we turn to describing, acknowledging as we do that it is art, not science, that it is always and perpetually inexact, incomplete, although in the artistry often lies the essence of the divine nonetheless.