Wednesday, February 26, 2014

On the Trichotomy, Method, and the Theory of Learning.


On the Trichotomy, Method, and the Theory of Learning.

 

Imagine two people: the novelist and the professor of literature. The novelist is in the position of the Artist to whom a certain Being, in Heidegger’s sense – the work of Art – has been revealed. The novelist encodes within language this profound idea as though he or she were not merely translating it but in fact preparing it as a gift that is encased in language and must be opened with language. The professor of literature then opens the gift before his students in a relationship that depends as much upon the students as it does upon the professor. He “cracks” it, as it were, to show what lies inside.

A fine instance of a writer who breaks with convention is Kurt Vonnegut. He is akin to the director Tarantino in his infamously non-linear narratives; he often-times tells stories out of chronological order. This allows him to maintain a thematic continuity whilst sacrificing, temporarily, a chronological continuity, although not in the continuity of the Actual Plot but in the way that that Plot is Presented; it is a lapse in the Formality of the Presentation rather than the integrity of the Continuity. This aesthetic appeal also draws attention to the fact that human beings, as well as artists, do not live their lives linearly, on one level. They “jump around”, recalling events from childhood that relate to their present condition, irrespective of the events in the interim, relating those events in the interim to an imagined future, and even involving the present, as an object of mind, in these games. One might pedantically draw a thematic contrast between the Tralfamadorian, Determinisitic perspective in Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five and the peculiar experiences of an unwitting time-traveler named Billy Pilgrim to show by foil that the novel is an allegory for the absurdity of Determinism in light of the Actuality of human experience. By not only telling the story out of order, in the conventional fashion of writing a non-linear narrative, but by in fact overstepping that boundary between “Plot” and “Presentation” and challenging the reader to believe that the order of presentation is in fact the chronological order of events, (from the protagonist’s perspective) Vonnegut not only breaks the fourth wall separating Billy from the reader but also draws attention to the disparate ways in which human beings view time itself.

Should a professor wish to analyse this work, he or she could imagine (Vonnegut, prior to the conception of the book, or any of his readers afterwards) taking a number of index-cards, each meant to designate a given chapter, arranging them on the floor in a circle, and either drawing lines between them or connecting them with a piece of string. Each card would have had, written upon it, the main events and the key thematic elements. The circumference of the circle would have had the cards arranged either in the order of the chronological Plot or of its Presentation. Whichever had not been allotted the dignity of the circumference would have been represented by a thread.

Perhaps in the instance of Slaughterhouse-Five, the thread would have run more or less along the circumference. This would have been a testament to Vonnegut’s own cleverness. In most instances, however, of a non-linear narrative, the thread would have run not along the circumference but at a series of chords penetrating the interior of the circle seemingly at random. Further lines, were they drawn between cards having in common the development of a particular literary theme, would have intersected and clashed with the other Chords in a similarly continuous but ultimately apparently arbitrary fashion.

In presenting the plot in a lecture hall, one would have the choice of whether to adhere stringently to the strictly chronological presentation (that one would find usually in Spark Notes) or to “jump around a bit”, discussing different chapters that would seem randomly selected only to the inattentive student. The latter approach would be almost certainly, in Nietzsche’s terms, the Appollonian appeal, whereas the former would be a Socratic appeal that would drain the lecture almost entirely of its thematic significance, although the Sophist would merely marginalize, in this instance, the Appollonian appeal as mere aestheticism in ignorance of the actual facts.

The former approach would be, in terms of my own trichotomy, dependent entirely upon the Formal. It is confined to the relationship between Words and Ideas, dealing with the Method according to which we present them. Because it is relatively unrelated to the Being Itself, it is not only independent of any concrete Reality and open to interpretation but also relatively ungrounded. Should one become so divorced from the Beings that one would live entirely in terms of the Formal appeal, one would then run the risk of elevating it to God-like proportions and insisting upon only one stringent artificial way in which pedagogy (or any Method in any other profession or work) “can” or “should” be done. This is the origin of Dogmatic Propriety. The Sophist would therefore be hypocritical simply because it is his or her own perpetuation* of a given AESTHETIC that keeps him or her ensnared naively in a narrow view that filters out and conceals the underlying Truth of any phenomenon.

The latter approach, the Appollonian, would be also the Artistic according to my trichotomy. It relates directly to the Beings and is concerned with the degree to which verbal truth PRESENTS those beings to the listener and, in the process of presentation, reveals them to the speaker. The latter method also, insofar as it allots one the freedom to keep the Beings in view – that is, without “losing sight” by turning away from them for too long to describe them or by “enshrouding” them in the very descriptions of them – serves the purpose of the Practical: The direct relationship between the Beings and the Mind in the absence of language and its potential interference.

 

Dm.A.A.

* Formally, the "perpetuation" of this sort of ignorance is a kind of madness because it is repetition with the anticipation of different results, since the very process of Life is the anticipation of new results.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

On the Affirmation and Negation of All Philosophical Systems.


On the Affirmation and Negation of All Philosophical Systems.

 

As an artist, I can see within my mind’s eye all alternatives at once, though some may not surface in consciousness, and I may choose to either side with my Directed Mind, in failure, or with my Non-directed Heart, in ecstasy and sanctity. Contradictions and inconsistencies are symptoms of growth, though the debater exploits them in his opponent, hints are the loudest of truths, though the aggressor takes the subtlety of one’s silence to be ignorance of the “clear facts” which in fact cease to be of import when they are brought from their mystifying shade.

 

In Heideggerian terms, things are revealed to us. The Artist and poet sees the best form as though it were a Platonic Form in one’s Mind, with no need to petition the senses. My attack upon empiricism was a rejection of the absurdity of sensory strain in the guise of a search for the best of all possible worlds, in actuality in the mere service of the empirical method. Yet my method of extracting the empirical splinter and extricating myself from the splintered rubble of a demolished empirical forest had relied too heavily upon the construction of a log cabin: Rationality.

 

Both my argument in defense of the Artist’s Insight (and in opposition to the Will to Ignorance) as well as the one that attacked Rationality are rowboats that have drifted downstream, out of reach. They are obsolete, yet I am not a hypocrite for having employed them in the quest of this shore. I sought Rationality as an ally to subdue Empiricism, and then I slayed Rationality itself. Yet I am not a traitor to Truth. All methods are mere vessels, and the abandonment of a system over time is not hypocrisy but Adventure, so long as what guides it is the fundamental childlike Spirit of Adventure and Wonder, by no means a mere Romantic naivete but a truly dramatic confrontation with the void, which would only be recognized by another solitary soul in quest of that Absurdity*.

 

*Possibly a quest made more dangerous, astonishing, and difficult to the intelligent minority by the endurance of apathy and the temptation to ignorance made unbearable in the midst of Authority.

 

Dm.A.A.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

On Art and Heidegger.

Heidegger asserted that the process of Revealing has as its natural and inevitable corollary Concealment. This means that all Truth contains not only the possibility but the inevitability of Untruth.

The artist, depending upon his or her proximity to the painter, will be well aware of this on a level that the logician, technician, or layman will take for granted. To the painter, the process of any aesthetic departure within the confines of a single work necessitates the process of submerging an existing paradigm. Once the canvas has been covered, I cannot introduce anything new without obscuring something that had been there hitherto. Even the process of beginning a painting necessitates the submersion of the blank canvas.

Any change in personal character or direction may be likened to such a change. Failure is not merely virtuous insofar as it is necessary to have a Winner. Outside of the confines of mere competition, the struggle for Life necessitates often that we sacrifice our very Notion of Success and "sit patiently with" Failure long enough for Failure to become a new paradigm of Success. The artist must repress the compulsion to prostrate before the old Gods, who become buried in what had hitherto been the muck of the Devils' obscurity. That very mud becomes the dirt that hardens into the conception of a new idol.

Should time prove to negate the value of the new form, affirming the original (and probably socially conditioned) view that the new "pales in comparison" and is "inferior", then one can rest assured that, usually if not always, the Superior form -- the True God -- will again be revealed once the false novelty has been scrubbed away. Yet if this should not be so -- should the Old God have faded totally from memory -- one must accept the triumph of this new form as not tragedy but Evolution.

dm.A.A.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

On Formality and the Legal System.

The Formal, which is defined as that which is confined to the relationship between Mind and Langage, irrespective of the actual Reality of Being, is akin by parallel to Nietzsche's Socratic Appeal and Heidegger's Standing Reserve; it is an inferior dimension of human existence utterly unrelated to Reality. This is the dimension that the post-modernists are eager to deconstruct.

Given this, it is the pinnacle of irony that, whilst testing for sanity or sobriety, police officers ask individuals for the formalities of Name, Day of the Week, and Address. None of these abstractions are physical forms. Our legal system with its Kafkaesque snares is also the product of sheer Formality.

The expression "grammar-Nazi" is not entirely an exaggeration.

dm.A.A.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

On Consistency and Maturity.

To be consistent in external affairs and inconsistent in internal cirumstances is the mark of maturity.

dm.A.A.*

* Intentionally no alteration.

On Failure.

We must play to win and prepare to lose.

The only way to ascertain the outcome of a game is to throw it, as it were. One can never guarantee a Victory. It is a poor sport that makes the error of trying to prevent Error.

dm.A.A.

On the three criteria of Language and On Heidegger: F.A.P.

Heidegger's trichotomy -- his metaphysics -- refers to three loci in a triangle of human experience: Being Itself, Language, and Mind.

I should like to borrow his work to formulate three fundamental criteria for Life In General (Civilised Life) and Linguistics: The constitutions of a Good sentence (as opposed to a merely passing one.)

Where Heidegger addresses the corners of the triangle, I shall elucidate the sides.

The first side -- the relationship between Mind and Being -- I shall call the Practical.

In language, concision falls into this category.

The second -- the relationship between Words and Being, is the Artistic.

Coherence belongs to this.

The third and final rung is the Formal -- between Words and Mind.

Grammar abides here.

dm.A.A.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

On the Sinking House, Heideggerian Error, and Statistical Truth.

Without the Sinking House phenomenon, in an age of statistical information made instantly available by technology, there would be a possibility of eliminating Error, which Heidegger describes as the essence of the Human Being.

This is why it is frustrating to encounter videos on youtube that are a locus of unified jeers at the most marginal of human errors. These are called "fail" videos, and they are dangerous memes, because they perpetuate the notion that an individual's fallibility is stupidity, that a sense of "Certainty" in numbers* is justified, and a set of personally superficial qualities such as statistics are to be regarded as important (whereas in fact it is the individual decision to regard them as important and to operate according to them, imitated on a large scale, that renders statistical truth of import, despite the total justifiability of human error when something as psychologically inconsequential as a misplaced "0" occurs).

There are more Planck seconds in an individual second than there have been seconds in the entire history** of the Universe. The more infinitesimal the space( of /-)time, the less we can be Certain that no error was made, and the more mysterious the leap we take each day when we take the input of our senses to be the contents of our minds and we say "I know".

dm.A.A.

* A double-meaning.

** "History" not in the sense of human history, but our projections as to the age of the Universe.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

The Sinking House Problem as a Survivalistic Tendency.

Situations wherein stress, survival, or bodily self-preservation are concerned are all instances of the Sinking House. The civilised minde is unaccustomed to cooperating with the reptilian hind-brain in such a way as to say 'this is possible' in the absence of physical stimuli. If things like torture can appear 'possible' to one who has not experienced them, or even simply to one who is not presently experiencing them, then literally Everything is Possible.

dm.A.A.

The Sinking House as a Sociological Phenomenon.

The Sinking House problem is the result of an absence of Attention on the part of the Other.

The False House is a failed attempt to cope with this problem.

This will occur during a transitional period in one's Life.

dm.A.A.

Monday, February 10, 2014

On the Qualified Value in Conformity.


On the Qualified Value in Conformity

 

According to Kohlberg, most individuals live on the Conventional Moral Level. The mind must fear not only for its own safety but for its utility in the aid of others’ progress. If the nervous system is of secondary importance, possible harm done to it is only one factor in the value of conformity. Conformity is a survivalistic necessity which may be in accord with the Unconscious, yet it necessitates at once being aware of a “truth” and being aware of its illusory nature: A kind of schizophrenia that only tremendous discipline and adventurousness can help us to transcend. Overcoming the will to truth and an excessively Dyonesiac worldview may help, but the problem will not be resolved without social change and psychological transformation on a large scale.

 

Any sense of “futility” arises from this human social predicament. Something is only futile so long as one holds an unrealistic ideal in mind. Yet all ideals are unreal because they are sheer qualities of mind, when the mind is not fluid and childlike. When will is in accord with ability, man enters into a flow state. When he is not in accord with the flow state, he strives for ideals, which are mere representations of reality that have little to do with Actual Life, except where the manipulation of ideals helps to deconstruct subconscious programs.

 

Dm.A.A.

On Forced Medication.


 

 

Forced medication is a form of punishment.  Erratic behavior, both mental and physical, when it lies outside either the border of law or unwritten law, is misattributed arbitrarily to a theoretical “chemical imbalance”. Such an abstraction is usually totally devoid of truth.
 
dm.A.A.

On Rules and Truths.


All rules are abstractions. They exist solely for the individual who conceives them, because they are mental constructs that are simply the interpretations of sensory input from other sources. All truths are similar abstractions created by repetition. The sensory phenomenon of “facing a fact” is no different from a kind of schizophrenia. The civilised life, insofar as force is ever used and justified, even and especially in the guise of law, is intrinsically schizophrenic to some extent.
dm.A.A.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

On Technology and the Sinking House.

On Technology and the Sinking House

Heidegger refers to the "standing reserve": the source of information that our technology provides us with.

In any situation wherein any sense of personal identity is attributed to an item of technology, a process of concealment may ensue. This concealment may be brought about by a process that Jung calls participation mystique and subjectivisation of the object: The computer or any other instrument takes on a quality that may be entirely unique. It may become itself an authority that hypnotises the individual into thinking in accordance with the machine's own program.
Something as banal as the notion of ownership may obscure physical, sensory reality in pure abstraction.

Standing reserve is responsible for many false constructs and "truths". Such a construct will be deconstructed in the process of the Sinking House.

dm.A.A.

Conclusion Regarding Truth.

Conclusion Regarding Truth.

Any fixed cognitive "truth" that can be made available at any moment is the product of a lapse in perception. Filters of perception create these cognitive distortions. The process of thought that creates a fixed mental image is taken for granted. These are the decaying logs of the  house that collapses, no different from the Sinking House. Usually, a stubborn neurotic tic coupled with participation mystique will construct such a house, built upon repetition. The illusion of Sanity perpetuates it with Absolutism in search of a Certainty that cannot be attained, for certainty is the futile project of the Directed Process. Assuredness need not even be made conscious of itself with any kind of "clarity" that could be clung to. Nothing is "true" if no one knows it.

The mind that tries to grab a truth, either to affirm an illusory flash in the pan (on the part of Directed Thinking) or to convert its heartfelt, unseen Assuredness into "certainty", whether or not it knows that that is its subconscious intent, dries up. This is one instance of the Sinking House problem.

The other instance that the Sinking House appears is in the enactment of the "transcendent" function that Jung refers to, which is a general definition used clinically to describe the process of Change and unsettling transformation in a human being when an established house of "truth" is about to be either deconstructed or to sink into the marsh.

dm.A.a.

On the Fallacy of Intersubjectivity.

On the Fallacy of Intersubjectivity

I came to this realisation whilst reading James Joyce's Ulysses. I had been trying to crack that tome for months, but it was not until today that I could keep it open for more than a few mere minutes. The exception was one instance on the third floor of the Palomar College Campus Library.


With slavish fortitude of mind and what must have been an explosion of unspoken awareness, I came to understand why neither Joyce nor I was mad.

An artist can point at that object in his or her environment and say, "I prefer that." He or she may similarly look inwards at that glowing (or otherwise) Platonic image on a work that he or she has yet to bring into the material world.

The words would be the same: "I prefer that." It is not until someone else comes along and asks, "what does 'that' mean?" that one has to construct a more adequate picture, yet the aesthetic and cognitive necessities of this new construct will depend upon the audience and its denseness.

Intersubjectivity is that process of Describing something using Directed Thinking. We make a grave mistake when we confuse the World for the symbols that we use to describe it. This has been pointed out by Alan Watts.

When I have too excessive a need to justify myself, too ardent a passion to be understood, et cetera, my external monologue becomes my internal monologue, building upon past experiences and confusing my mind, for it makes impossible within the safe caverns of my own mind this simple sentence: "I prefer that." I always hear, neurotically, the voices of others asking me either to justify myself or to specify what I mean.

My father, who so often demands needless explanations for things which a little more empathy would make clear as day, haunts me in the form of a complex. His thoughts, or rather the words that I use to justify myself to him, become my "innermost" thoughts, by which I perpetuate this complex. In the process, the fluidity and ineffable freshness of my non-directed Life is totally submerged in the muck of "reason".

Joyce helped me to recall what freshness is. Any one of us can say "fresh", but how many of us can describe it as Joyce has? We too often use words such as "fresh" and abuse them when we know nothing of them.

This at least is the case with my dad.

There is something profoundly sick in the man who can no longer emote. The mechanical man becomes tyrannical because his sentiment is blocked by conditioning.

I still remember the moment I looked at my father, heard his voice, and recognised that he was Darth Vader.

Even the words I use now to justify myself are mere clots like blood coagulating.

I had arrived at a frustrating passage in my novel, the one I've been writing for months. This passage concerned a girl's relationship with her father.

I was struck, suddenly, with the complex. A dry grippingness possessed me, as though I were confronting  my own father, but I did not know it.

Something again weighed down upon me: "Change the structure." It sounded like every instance wherein he told me to get off the computer because I was less welcome there than he and his work was more important than me.

I claimed not to care. Yet it was this pattern of being marginalised and told that my own emotions were illusory that gives me the feeling of being constantly haunted. Father would not leave me alone. Whenever he could learn where I was, he would be unscrupulous, however much I may have pled, to find me when it was time to go home.

Of course, his sentiment was understandable. We live with two women. His mother must have been a miserable Soviet wench, and her own blunted affect show at times in father's almost schizoid self-assuredness.

I say to my father, in my mind, not knowing that I am speaking to him: "I prefer to have the chapter on Cars follow the chapter on Stephanie's father." Yet this is of course a lie. I had chosen to have the chapter on Cars precede the chapter on Stephanie's father, but it was merely my own father that triggered the complex.

"How does a good writer organise a novel?" I think unconconsciously. "There must be a WAY THAT IT IS DONE."

And immediately a dogmatic platonism possesses my mind. Father, who can take everything from me at any instant, as the Lord God can, tells me: you need to change this. It is too informal.

He offers no justification, but I have no justification except for my own sacred, self-justifying sentiment and Intuition, neither of which amount to anything to him. The consideration of the virtues of these separate chapters is entirely lost in this mine-field of emaciated intellectual sterility.

Finally, I retort: "I choose this way." He asks, unconsciously, to the both of us, "which way?"

And I cannot point to him where it is, for he fails so pitifully to see into my mind. So I explain, to him, though thinking it is to myself, "I want to put the chapter on 'Cars' PRIOR to the chapter on 'Stephanie's Father'." Yet the very words, as they exit my imagined mouth, seem so absurd that I find myself removed from all socialised life. I am in the sinking house; I cannot even tell if what i have said makes any sense or if I had even said what I meant to, for the words have become merely identical droplets of water on the window. And it is a window that my father cannot see me through. He can only see the droplets, and the words mean little to him regardless of what I say.

Of course, all Directed Thought is directed AT someone. So in the absence of an audience, only in the absence of an audience, can there be peace. The very process of logic stems from the complex, and it is also the food that feeds it. Even when I say to myself, "I prefer this," the moment that I begin to further describe "what I mean", that same moment I am speaking again not only to my father but to my complex.

Only by looking inward, directing my eyes AT the thing and away from the judging audience, can I begin to delight in this unspoken, wordless, grammatically incorrect knowledge keeping watch over the rational, Malfoyesque "method".

Yet again, the moment I begin to justify myself, even to myself (itself an absurdly schizophrenic predicament, as Nietzsche and Watts point out), I am again feeding the demon of formal logic that only understands itself by making reference to itself. It is a troll seated upon a throne that can only live so long as someone sees it. It is constipated Rationalism that usurps the throne of an unspoken voiceless Voice that the moment it is heard disappears.

dm.A.A.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Journal.

I would have begun this journal entry with a Thank You to Martin Heidegger, Gregory Sadler, and Ali. With their help, I not only overcame my case of cold feet in regards to employing the computer, but I also came to understand why my cold feet in this regard had not been unmerited. A win-win situation.

The computer is different from the notebook and the napkin, and it is with little doubt that the choice of a writer's medium in turn determines what the writer divulges and unveils in the process. Writing on paper and then commiting the work to print is an entirely different corridor than writing directly to print.

This entry was supposed to have been a new installment of my Dream Journal. I had contemplated starting that project up again, although my sentiment told me that the Unconscious was in its state of detachment wherein it did not wish to be disturbed by the ego but simply wanted me to go about my work and to allow it to go about its own work. This wasn't the first time that I felt that it really did not have a job for me, but I was worried that i might be chickening out and making excuses.

With arduous memory, I came to ponder what I would write about. A brief dive into the unconscious put my heart at peace, even if it gave my mind unrest. Whatever's going on under the surface, things are more or less all right as far as the Dreamer is concerned.

I thought that perhaps the Unconscious had wanted me to actually venture into continuing my dream journal, but not by writing it on paper but by commiting it immediately to print. Yet the more that I thought about it, the more I realised I could not shake the discomforting feeling that the Unconscious did not really care whether I would commit the entry to print first or to paper; either corridor would have satiated it. And then I wondered if, in fact, the Unconscious even cared whether or not I knew what it was doing.

Most likely, it would either be apathetic or would prefer that I left it alone.

Existentialism has helped me to recognise that the Unconscious Mind is not a Christian God with a fixed plan for Consciousness. It does not want me to abide by its will but to carry out my own work, until it is ready to present some critical information to me.

Even if dream journaling is a religious matter, I can rest assured that I can take a Religiously Existential rather than a Religiously Dogmatic approach to the matter.


Thought Process:

1. The Unconscious does not want me to know about it.
2. I could journal about it if I wanted to.
3. It probably does not want me to journal to the notebook.
4. It probably wants me to journal to the computer.
5. It probably does not care about whether I journal to the notebook or to the computer.
6. It probably does not care whether or not I journal today.
7. The Unconscious does not want me to know about it.

dm.A.A.