"Adventure Time and Philosophy" is a monster-beating, wild ride of philosophical mayhem. One of the deepest and most thoughtful television shows ever to assault human brain waves, "Adventure Time" shows us what the world could be like, challenging everything we know about life, meaning, heroism, and even burritos, and it's time to give the show some serious thought. This book screws open our cranial lids, mucks about in the mess that is our heads, and attempts to come to some answers about the nature of reality. "Adventure Time and Philosophy" is a chance to put down your broadsword, put your exhausted monster-slaying feet up, and try to figure out why you spend your time rescuing people in distress and fighting for justice. Who better than Finn and Jake to have as companions when taking on Plato, Nietzsche, and Baudrillard or encountering the Slime Princess, the Ice King, and Marceline the Vampire Queen? Filled with chapters written by a colorful cast of characters, "Adventure Time and Philosophy" enlightens us about the profound and life-affirming spiritual subtext and dark comedic elements of an awesomely fantastic show.

Ever since it was first unleashed in 1818 the story of Victor Frankenstein and his reanimated, stitched-together corpse has inspired intense debate. Can organic life be reanimated using electricity or genetic manipulation? If so, could Frankenstein's monster really teach itself to read and speak as Mary Shelley imagined? Do monsters have rights, or responsibilities to those who would as soon kill them? What is it about music that so affects Frankenstein's monster, or any of us? What does Mel Brook's Frau Blucher say to contemporary eco-feminism? Why are some Frankenstein's flops and others historic successes? Is there a true Frankenstein? Why are children, but not adults, drawn to Shelley's monster? And what is a "monster," anyway? Frankenstein and Philosophy calls 25 philosophers to stitch together these and other questions as they apply to history's greatest horror franchise. Some chapters treat the Frankenstein films, others the original novel, and yet others the many comic books, novels, and modern adaptations. Together they pay tribute to perhaps the most enduring pop culture icon and the fundamental fears, hopes, and puzzles it raises.

In Dracula and Philosophy 24 nocturnal philosophers stake out and vivisect Dracula from many angles. John C. Altmann decides whether Dracula can really be blamed for his crimes, since it's his nature as a vampire to behave a certain way. Robert Arp argues that Dracula's addiction to live human blood dooms him to perpetual frustration and misery. John V. Karavitis sees Dracula as a Randian individual pitted against the Marxist collective. Greg Littmann maintains that if we disapprove of Dracula's behavior, we ought to be vegetarians. James Edwin Mahon uses the example of Dracula to resolve nagging problems about the desirability of immortality. Adam Barkman and Michael Versteeg ponder what it would really feel like to be Dracula, and thereby shed some light on the nature of consciousness. Robert Vuckovich looks at the sexual morality of Dracula and other characters in the Dracula saga. Ariane de Waal explains that "Dragula" is scary because every time this being appears, it causes "gender trouble." And Cari Callis demonstrates that the Count is really the Jungian Shadow archetype -- with added Shapeshifter elements -- in the journey of Mina Harker, heroine/victim of Stoker's novel, from silly girl to empowered woman.

Iron Man or Captain America? Which one is superior—as a hero, as a role model, or as a personification of American virtue? Philosophers who take different sides come together in Iron Man versus Captain America to debate these issues and arrive at a deeper understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of these iconic characters. The discussion ranges over politics, religion, ethics, psychology, and metaphysics. John Altmann argues that Captain America’s thoughtful patriotism, is superior to Iron Man’s individualist-cosmopolitanism. Matthew William Brake also votes for Cap, maintaining that it’s his ability to believe in the impossible that makes him a hero, and in the end, he is vindicated. Cole Bowman investigates the nature of friendship within the Avengers team, focusing predominantly on the political and social implications of each side of the Civil War as the Avengers are forced to choose between Stark and Rogers. According to Derrida’s Politics of Friendship, Cap is the better friend, but that doesn’t make him the winner! Aron Ericson’s chapter tracks our heroes’ journeys in the movies, culminating with Civil War, where the original attitudes of Tony (trusts only himself) and Steve (trusts “the system”) are inverted. Corey Horn’s chapter focuses on one of the many tensions between the sides of Iron Man and Captain America—the side of Security (Iron Man) versus Liberty (Cap). But Maxwell Henderson contends that if we dig deeper into the true heart of the Marvel Civil War, it isn’t really about security or privacy but more about utilitarianism—what’s best for everybody. Henderson explains why Iron Man was wrong about what was best for everybody and discloses what the philosopher Derek Parfit has to say about evaluating society from this perspective. Daniel Malloy explains that while both Captain America and Iron Man have faced setbacks, only Iron Man has failed at being a hero—and that makes him the better hero! In his other chapter, Malloy shows that where Iron Man trusts technology and systems, Captain America trusts people. Jacob Thomas May explores loss from the two heroes’ points of view and explains why the more tragic losses suffered by Stark clearly make him the better hero and the better person. Louis Melancon unpacks how Captain America and Iron Man each embodies key facets of America attempts to wage wars: through attrition and the prophylactic of technology; neither satisfactorily resolves conflict and the cycle of violence continues. Clara Nisley tests Captain America and Iron Man’s moral obligations to the Avengers and their shared relationship, establishing Captain America’s associative obligations that do not extend to the arbitration and protection of humans that Iron Man advocates. Fernando Pagnoni Berns considers that while Iron Man is too much attached to his time (and the thinking that comes with it), Captain America embraces-historical values, and thinks that there are such things as intrinsic human dignity and rights—an ethical imperative. Christophe Porot claims that the true difference between Captain America and Iron Man stems from the different ways they extend their minds. Cap extends his mind socially while Stark extends his through technology. Heidi Samuelson argues that the true American spirit isn't standing up to bullies, but comes out of the self-interested traditions of liberal capitalism, which is why billionaire, former-arms-industry-giant Tony Stark is ultimately a more appropriate American symbol than Steve Rogers. By contrast, Jeffrey Ewing shows that the core of Captain America: Civil War centers on the challenge superpowers impose on state sovereignty (and the monopoly of coercion it implies). Nicol Smith finds that Cap and Shell-Head’s clash during the Civil War does not necessarily boil down to the issue of freedom vs. regulation but rather stems from the likelihood that both these iconic heroes are political and ideological wannabe supreme rules or “Leviathans.” Craig Van Pelt reconstructs a debate between Captain America and Iron Man about whether robots can ever have objective moral values, because human bias may influence the design and programming. James Holt looks into the nature of God within Captain America’s world and how much this draws on the “previous life” of Captain Steve Rogers. Holt’s inquiry focuses on the God of Moses in the burning bush, as contrasted with David Hume’s understanding of religion. Gerald Browning examines our two heroes in a comparison with the Greek gods Hephaestus and Hercules. Christopher Ketcham supposes that, with the yellow bustard wreaking havoc on Earth, God asks Thomas Aquinas to use his logical process from Summa Theologica to figure which one of the two superheroes would be better at fixing an economic meltdown, and which one would be better at preventing a war. Rob Luzecky and Charlene Elsby argue that gods cannot be heroes, and therefore that the god-like members of the Avengers (Iron Man, with a god’s intelligence; Thor, with a god’s strength, and the Hulk, with a god’s wrath) are not true heroes in the same sense as Captain America. Cap is like Albert Camus’s Sisyphus, heroic in the way that he rallies against abstract entities like the gods and the government.

Batman or Superman? Which of these heroic figures is morally superior? Which is more dramatically effective? Which is more democratic? Which shows us the better way to fight crime? In Batman, Superman, and Philosophy, 26 philosophers evaluate Superman vs. Batman in order to decide which of them "wins" by various criteria. Since both Batman, the megalomaniacal industrialist, and Superman, the darling of the media, sometimes operate outside the law, which of them makes the better vigilante -- and how do they compare with Robin Hood, the anonymous donor, the Ninja, and the KKK? Which of them comes out better in terms of evolutionary biology? Which of the heroes works more effectively to resist oppression? Which one is better for the environment? Which of these two makes a better model and inspiring myth to define our culture and society? Is Batman or Superman the more admirable person? Who conforms more closely to Nietzsche's Ubermensch? Who makes the better god? Who is more self-sacrificing? Whose explicit code of morality is superior? Which superhero gives us more satisfying dramatic conflict? And why does a battle between the two make such a compelling drama?

In Discworld, unlike our own frustrating Roundworld, everything makes sense. The world is held up by elephants atop a swimming turtle, the sun goes around the world every day, and things always happen because someone intends them to happen. Millions of fans are addicted to Pratchett's Discworld, and the interest has only intensified since Pratchett's recent death and the release of his final Discworld novel, The Shepherd's Crown, in September 2015. The brave explorers of Discworld and Philosophy cover a lot of ground. From discussion of Moist von Lipwig's con artistry showing the essential con of the financial system to the examination of everyone's favorite Discworld character -- the murderous luggage -- to what the lawless Mac Nac Feegles tell us about civil government, Discworld and Philosophy gives an in-depth treatment of Pratchett's magical universe. Other chapters examine the power of Discworld's witches, the moral viewpoint of the golems, how William de Worde's newspaper illuminates the issue of censorship, how fate and luck interact to shape our lives, and why the more straightforward Discworld characters are so much better at seeing the truth than those with enormous intellects but little common sense.

Twenty-one philosophers investigate the implications of the "Jurassic Park" franchise for our lives, our values, and our future. Human beings live and thrive by modifying nature, but when do the risks of changing nature outweigh the likely benefits? If it's true that "Life will find a way," should we view any modified or newly reconstituted life as a hazard? The new scientific information we could gain by bringing back T. Rex or other dinosaurs is immense, but should we choose to let sleeping dinosaurs lie? And if we do bring them back by reconstituting them from ancient DNA, are they really what they were, or is something missing? How do the different forces -- human curiosity, profitability, and philanthropy -- interact to determine what actually happens in such cases? What moral standards should be applied to those who try to bring back lost worlds? The idea of bringing back the dead and the powerful is not limited to biological species. It also applies to bringing back old gods, old philosophies, old institutions, and old myths. If revived and once again let loose to walk the Earth, these too may turn out to be more dangerous than we bargained for.

Deadpool is the super-anti-hero who knows he's in a comic book. His unique situation and blood-stained history give rise to many philosophical puzzles. A group of philosophical Deadpool fans delve into these puzzles in Deadpool and Philosophy. For instance, if you know that someone is writing the script of your life, can you really be a hero? Is Deadpool really Wade Wilson, or did Wilson have his identity stolen by the monster who is now Deadpool? Are his actions predetermined by the writers, or does he trick the writers into scripting his choices? And what happens when Deadpool breaks into the real world to kill the writers? What kind of existence do literary characters have? How can we call him a moral agent for good when he still commits murder left and right and then left again and then right? Since Deadpool gets paid for his good deeds, can they be truly heroic? And which of the many Deadpool personalities are the real Deadpool? And of course, why does Deadpool love to annoy Wolverine so much? Deadpool challenges us to think outside the box. Deadpool and Philosophy shows us the profound implications of this most contradictory and perplexing comic book character.

Jonathan Swift and Philosophy is the first book to analyse and interpret Swift's writing from a philosophical angle. By placing key texts of Swift in their philosophical and cultural contexts and providing background to their history of ideas, it demonstrates how well informed Swift's criticism of the politics, philosophy, and science of his age actually was. Moreover, it also sets straight preconceptions about Swift as ignorant about the scientific developments of his time. The authors offer insights into, and interpretations of, Swift's political philosophy, ethics, and his philosophy of science and demonstrate how versatile a writer and thinker Swift actually was. This book will be of interest to scholars of philosophy, history of ideas, and 18th century literature and culture.