Friday, August 15, 2014

Statement as a Poem #?: The Alchemical Origins of Psychiatric Diagnoses.

Statement as a Poem #?: The Alchemical Origins of Psychiatric Diagnoses.

Did you know? The whole distinction
Of Bipolar Disorder
Was once called

Manic Depression? Which was based
On the alchemical concept of conflicting
Temperaments: Sanguine (based in blood) and
Melancholic (based in black
Bile)?

Something to think
About.

Did you all so know
That the Sanguine temperament
Was believed to have been a function of
The element of Air, centered in the Heart
Chakra, whereas the Melancholic
Temperament was believed to have been centered
In the second chakra, related to
Water?

The other two elements were fire: Choleric. The third chakra.
And earth: Phlegmatic. The first chakra. Phlegm was all so identified with
The throat.

Something to think
About.


Dm.A.A.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

The Convent Dream. (The House of the Dying.)

1.       Last night’s dream may not require a record of it, it may endure in memory throughout my life-time.
In place of the Hager’s residence on my street there is now a house I might have visited several times before. All though this seems unlikely given the content of other recent dreams, by the time that I arrived at this home it had all ready become familiar to me as the residence of Kresten’s extended family.
Perhaps in fact I first encountered this setting last night but can only, as it has been observed, recall the last few episodes.
Much like the land surveyor in Kafka’s The Castle, I was assigned to this destination – I think by Kresten – perhaps to pet-sit. Yet just like in the Kafka tale I had trouble gaining admittance and then acceptance. I think I was accompanied by a friend – if not Andrew then probably a reference to him, for the Dreamer of Dreams has all ready cast Andrew as a personification of the Shadow – when I first[/last?] tried gaining admittance to the House. The woman who answered, presumably Kresten’s graunt – but on second thought all most certainly his dead, demented grand-mother – asked first and in a clipped and near-silent Soviet voice if I believed in God. It might have been in this interrogative form: What is your religion? Awkwardly but without hesitation or stutter I replied that I did not have a religion because my parents never followed one in particular. She said no more to me, but passed out from sight, advancing I think towards the front of the house. I was left uncertain as to whether or not I was well come. A part of me wants to believe that I turned to Andrew at that instant and that he shrugged in mutual confusion.

The House must surely have been the House of the Dead. At any rate, it was the House of the Dying. Yet what Watts had said about how we treat our dying – with denial – seemed endemic. In truth, a number of its occupants there were of middle-age, and I wondered what they were doing there. A man occupied a cot upon my right upon entry to the bleak blue room. I recall an arbitrary riddle that I was asked to solve, or other-wise it was one that I had believed my self to have solved adequately and wanted to brag about.* I was met with feeble glares of incredulity like the one that the old man at the Zen monastery had fixed me in before the other old fuck there said of my intellectualism and philosophical curiosity that he did not know why I could not ‘relate to [with] people’** and that I needed medication (in the patronizing interrogative form: ‘Are you taking [on] any medication?’***

*This is all most certainly a reference to my attempts to talk people through Depression.
** Salinger incarnate. I am Seymour Glass.
*** This episode at the Zen Monastery was Actual.

2.       At one point later in the dream I had left the house, which never seemed to change internally. I left my home in a bath-robe. I passed by the Wookey’s open garage, where Scott’s perpetually hot sister Michelle, who might have been dressed in a salmon-magenta robe, was packing things into a car. In fact it might have been that the garage, like the Hagers’ garage had been in Actuality and as it was now. In Dream, was still cluttered as though Scott had never ‘grown up’. I asked her when he would return. She hesitated to answer and I thought first that may be she had not heard me and then secondly that she was ignoring me, though it’s possible that these two thoughts had occurred in the obverse order. It was like seeing the woman at the Che cafĂ© and being disappointed to find that she was not in fact the INFP-looking buxom blonde who had worked at Barnes & Noble. [Another Actual Instant.] She finally replied, probably without looking at me. I cannot immediately recall, but it seems that Scott would be gone indefinitely, for her response left me with little to nothing to look forward to.
As I continued down in the street, I was met with an angry glare from a female stranger in her twenties-to-thirties-or-early-forties, wearing a night-robe that might have been like my mother’s. I was unnerved. I thought: She is wearing a robe. Why would mine, (which felt like it had belonged to my father, in retrospect, and might in fact have been either borrowed or inherited) offend her? I looked down and realized that I was not only wearing that robe, but dress pants and my favourite cobalt-blue business shirt over it, too.

3.       Finally, I decided to perform upon [I think one of] a series of truly grand (though not formally Grand) pianos at Kresten’s Christian convent. I was told, luke-warmly, that while my music was basically good I could use some lessons. I began to explain, again with the same Zen-off-the-bat immediacy, that those cost a lot of money and that all of my favourite artists were self-taught. It was like the time in Actuality that I had told Mitchell that all of my favourite authors were dead, except that that time the reply was delightfully a positive relief:
‘Then you are like me,’ he had said with the same Dr. Pepper immediacy.


dm.A.A.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Cat Calling: On Social Deviance.


Cat Calling.


Cat-calling is of course not the same thing as rape except to those who choose to react the same way to it. Were matters other-wise, a simple pass would make [my friend who had been a rape victim]’s Post-Traumatic Stress flare up like a Salinger novel. Feminism presupposes naively that women are the victim class and that men are victimizers by class. But not only does this perpetuate Gender Division and not only does it muddle Potentiality and Actuality. This mentality is in fact very naiive.
When I last went to Palomar College, a major stressor in my life was a fellow named [Simon Braille]. People who have counseled me and interpreted my dreams have intuited the enduring impact that he had upon me, one that while it leant colour to my prior semester there all so overcast it with gray and leant relief to my departure.
Simon insisted upon a psychiatric diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia that I grew steadily to believe.
He attested that he had been in multiple fights with gang members, some of which ended in murder, and he was 'green-lighted' by the local Diablos gang. He professed a knowledge of multiple martial arts, as well as a tremendous capacity for using Psychic Energy, the latter of which I can at least attest to, for I could Feel his aggressive, oppressive Presence in areas some times before seeing evidence that he was there. Most interestingly, though, he prided himself in an ethical code that was demonstrably more unyielding than that of anyone he or I had ever met.
Among his ethics I might imagine or remember that he would not hit a girl.
For a while, I felt unsafe upon campus. I knew that he had the sovereignty and the wherewithal to find me on campus wherever I may be and however stupid his reason. I simply did not have the sanctity to know how to respond, and in this Kafka-esque scenario it seemed possible that simply speaking my mind would warrant a potentially fatal ass-kicking. Not one of us really understood how Simon's mind worked.
I feel indebted to Simon in a way I have not felt indebted to anyone else. Not only did I really first have to affirm my masculinity and bear the sword of discretion, in the Campbellian sense, marking a transformation that my best friend could intuit and showed a look of unspoken approval for, in order to write for him a note asserting my boundaries. I befriended him.
Over time, not only did I see more and more of myself within the beast and vice versa. I saw to an incredible degree that his neuroses were but the intensification of very conventional neuroses that passed for normality amongst a relatively boring class that scoffed at us as they passed us in the night.
Simon became my only reliable guide through an Under-world that I cannot fairly say that he had created.


To this day I value social deviance indispensably and tend to regard social norms and 'personal bubbles' as abstractions borne from entitlement.
And I am reminded thus of another deviant by the name of [Frank Bonobo].
Usually, when I tried to film people without their prior consent I would be met first with reproof, at best stopping there, and at worst someone would snatch my camera from me. Frank was the first person I had met who not only allowed his self to be filmed but was offended that I would make him self-conscious by asking for permission.

Frank was a sexual deviant in the sense that he was a pick-up artist. Yet besides that there were a number of unconventional things about him. The first was his marriage, which put an end to his promiscuous days (supposedly).
Secondly was the fact that he had successfully kicked an addictive drug habit. And third and most peculiar was that, while he criticised my virginity, he never coerced me into doing things or out of doing others. The organisation that he was starting was aimed at promoting sexual freedom under respectable auspices.
My best friend had entertained the prospect of pick-up artistry under these auspices: That nine out of ten women would say 'No', but the solitary 'Yes' would be worth the candle. That solitary Yes would thus constitute a sexual minority and an instance of social deviance.

Rape restricts the freedom of the victim, but cat-calling does not.
An invitation to casual sex does not restrict a woman's freedom, for she has innumerable ways to respond, whereas in the absence of such an invitation she could not respond at all. Is one a victim? I thought myself to be a victim of Simon's bullying, until I realised that I was being irresponsible for blaming him. I tried to restrict his freedom and his actions because I felt entitled to a false sense of security and would not take responsibility for my own. I had a beloved friend who committed suicide, and amidst her complaints about the World was that she would get cat-calls every day. Yet was she a victim of the cat-calls or of an ideology that made her feel herself to be a victim? The Buddha said: There are two darts. One that the other casts and the one that you cast at yourself in response. The prevalence of these advances does not entail that they are a majority; were they, one would arguably not notice. While it may not happen 'to me', if I am to be held responsible for some degree of social awareness then my democratic insight on this matter must not be marginalised.
To me, sexual deviance is a strange thing, but I have a love for strange things that brings me into greater harmony with my self and the world.
The feminist movement, rather than promoting sexual liberation, reminds me of the sort of organisation that turns Mount Everest into a tourist attraction and then bans entry to it. Its aim at villifying sexual advances would have at its ultimate consummation the elimination of a sexual social narrative that caters to the tastes of a deviant minority bent on finding more of their kind and promoting a lifestyle that does not subordinate its self to a largely ethnocentric view of what respectful behaviour is, abstracting away from man's animal nature to a constructed conception of the 'Human Being'.

I do not know for certain that I could produce a witness to these claims. One girl I know had sex with eight different men in one week in Minnesota, yet she does not talk to me any more for nebulous reasons.
Frankly, I do not have time. The example that I will provide and close with is an instance recently that I was walking home and some one barked at me from a passing car. This habit on the part of young people, especially at night-time, would startle and un-nerve me in the past. One time, I even raged back, and I felt embarassed. This time, it had been a dog. I was taken a back. I thought: We fear and loathe oppression if a human does it because it challenges our views of what the 'Human Being' is. We do not want to see ourselves, basically and biologically, as animals.

dm.A.A.

It may be true that I only cited examples here of the male perspective. Yet it is all so untrue, because  I did not use anyone's argument on the ethics of the matter, constructing my own from a number of disparate life experiences with people of both genders. [My best friend's argument, which I used to great effect, was not an ethical observation so much as the contemplation of a life choice.]
Anyone who delivers an ad-hominem against me on these grounds will be guilty of sexism. Aside from that, I have three points that have all ready been made implicitly in my argument:

1. It is quite obvious that some women enjoy the attention. Pick-up artistry would not retain its popularity other-wise. Frank's wife, my promiscuous lady friend, and a number of college women (upon whom I saw this hypothesis proven in a youtube video demonstrating "pick-up lines") would probably testify. Some women I have met on public transit all so seemed to pretty much expect to be hit upon, and they seemed disappointed even not to be, judging by mood. Others -- a bit younger -- mistook my platonic advances for sexual or romantic advances.
2. These women constitute a minority. I have all ready proven this.
3. The very fact that I cannot produce an immediate example should stand as evidence for my sexual regularities. It would if anything bolster my Ethos as an objective, non-partisan observer. Only were it not so that being "non-partisan" is impossible in the face of a radical fanatic who is possessed of the Us-Them and We-We modes. To be clear: I have done the best I can to step out of my gender and to be objective with the knowledge that life has allotted me serendipitously and without my interference. Yet to some people I will never be more than an ignorant prick. So be it.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

On the Sinking House and Numbers.

Every number is assigned arbitrarily to an item. Given enough freedom, losing count is inevitable, because there are literally infinite numerical quantities that can be assigned to a given object. For this reason, the Sinking House haunts this phenomenological inquiry, in order to prevent the mind from falling into the Problematic whilst it is captivated by the mystery of the Transcendant Function.

Dm.A.A.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Response to a feminist argument.

Well we’ve all been disrespected at one time or another, so I think that my two cents could at least count for something. I had a friend who was suicidal and got cat calls all the time, and of course it’s sad (to say the least) to hear about, but I’m not going to let it affect how I treat people because that would be neither ethical or logical. It’s like when people posted videos for crush fetishists on MySpace and the “norm” was to describe all the terrible things one would want done to the culprit, even though to preach such kind of violence as a punishment was in fact a hypocritical power attitude. And one of my friends wouldn’t talk to me for a few days because I was “defending” the woman in the video and preaching peace.
Different people respond differently to different behavior, and not all social deviance is poorly received. Some people even prefer to be treated with social deviance, such as in the case of a fellow I knew who was a social deviant as well and preferred to be filmed without being asked first. People are not crazy or “bad”. One just has to get to understand them.
I certainly never understood the whole “picking up girls” thing but I’ve heard about both sides of the perspective, and all though I found it silly myself I would not feel entitled to pass judgement upon the souls of the people involved so much as the actions. There have even been books written on pick-up artistry, one of whom I encountered in the home of a married couple whom I respect, and the argument in favour of this deviant behavior is that a minority of women will be receptive to it. But that minority is its self therefore a kind of social deviance and it would be bullying to say that such a woman is a whore or something.
I am sorry about your feelings and all I can suggest is that you do what you can to deal with it. That’s not a put-down; “dealing with” things by my definition is one of the most noble enterprises in life and can be done in a number of ways. I wouldn’t be presumptuous but I all ways tend to suspect that all though every individual goes through radically unique experiences they are all so more or less universal. As Watts said: “What you do and what happens to you are the same,” and all though this sounds like victim-blaming in a sociological context, speaking in the context that it was used in it means that rather than feeling disempowered or offended people should try to see the matter with as much objectivity as humanly possible. The shame of having wronged someone is arguably worse than the pain of being humiliated, and a basic trust in people will tell you that no one can escape his or her own conscience. That’s me preaching Buddhism, et cetera, but hopefully it creates a clearer context for what I said. Just don’t think I have not thought about this and how it affects people, both men and women, and the culture that it creates, in both its raw form and the reactionary movement that emerged out of it. Notice that I never once said that feminism was bad, but I wouldn’t embrace any ideology as universally good because that is fanaticism by definition, and it is contrary to intellectualism and freedom. That kind of thinking leads to fascism and suffering for all, and I think a more enlightened society would tend not to create so much division betwixt people. Frankly moralizing does that too, so I’m sorry for having done so in my self-defense.
Respectfully,

Dmitry.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

My Qualms with the Politically Correct Movement.


My Qualms with the Politically Correct Movement.
 
I usually do not venture into politics, preferring to focus on philosophy, dream interpretation, mysticism, mythology, and, of late, science. As usual, though, I affirm the fringe, so here are my views.
1.       Socio-economic Disparity.
The argument is age-old. Are people victims or are they responsible?
It’s quite clear that there have been statistical studies showing that white people (like myself) tend to excel economically moreso than other groups.
Wait a moment. I just said white people like myself. There is a fallacy therein. But I will address that later.
 
Unless I am mistaken, and correct me if I am wrong, the nation was established essentially by fairly well-off people who moved to the America under the auspices of religious persecution – NOT so much hope of economic gain. These people would, in the words of George Carlin, “happen to be white.”
 
A good deal of the racial minority population would go on to move here, but under entirely different auspices.
That the majority tends to be the most successful by the standards of the culture comes as no surprise. This is a general rule in societies. This is all so why fringe beliefs are often marginalized or fit into existing stringent categories by members of any largely organized movement. But I digress.
African Americans came as slaves and struggled economically for a considerable time because of lingering racism and the strangeness with which people who were not African American met their liberation, to speak nothing of political motives. Many other minorities came from impoverished countries. They formed small communities that we have come to call ghettos.
 
If one is born into wealth, if one is educated in how to appear classy, and if one adopts the value systems of the dominator culture, it comes as no surprise that one succeeds. One would think that, over time, however, our great nation’s free enterprise system would be able to more or less equalize success amongst all racial groups, regardless even of cultural differences, leaving things like inter-racial marriage to even out the kinks.
Unfortunately, this is the most naive and idealized view of the American economic system that I can think of.
 
I have noticed a tendency for people who are very passionate but all so very biased to commit the fallacy of the excluded middle. This means: “If you do not believe in a systematic oppression as the cause for these statistics, then you MUST believe that people who are white and male just HAPPEN to be better, more skilled, or harder workers.”
Woah, there.
 
First of all: There is no direct correlation between one’s work ethic and skills and one’s economic success in our capitalist society. Education does not bring us up to think critically but to parrot information without questioning its meaning. Teachers, under protection of their rights, may feel no obligation to explain a difficult concept to a student outside of class hours. Within class hours, they may silence a student for interrupting the class with “time-wasting” questions. Few teachers I have known do more than anticipate that the student essentially learn how to parrot an ambiguous text in a text-book without paying heed to what it means. Tests are so formatted as to draw upon this reserve knowledge, and students may feel at liberty to forget what they had learned and any intellectual cognitive dissonance that might result once they had gotten the grade.
If I work as a cashier for eight months, essentially as a nameless middle-man between a group of consumers and a corporation whose chief product is valued for its uselessness (luxuries), I make more money than a struggling free-lance writer trying to publish a novel. This I can say from experience.
 
To exclude the middle is to forget that there are HISTORICAL reasons for socio-economic disparity. The perpetuators of this disparity in the present are the media and the political movements. Capitalism depends upon the creation of illusory class division which in turn becomes actual class division. Yet even this is in fact a naive oversimplification, because in the grand scheme of things there are only two classes: The American class and the Wealthy elite.
 
The media is saturated with racial stereotypes, romanticized depictions of ghettos, et cetera because it can market its products by appealing to a certain group. Group identification is all ways arbitrary. As the philosopher Jacques Derrida pointed out, there is no definite black person or definite white person. If anything, everyone is a part of the same spectrum, with no dividing lines in nature between one race and another. And his argument seems even more convincing when one meets the offspring of inter-racial couples. This is not a joke; it is actually the single most convincing argument I have heard against racism, because all though any one can makes a pathos appeal against the evils of racism, Derrida’s argument actually uses logos to explain the absurdity of NOT being racially colour-blind.
Martin Buber, the Jewish theologian, said that you can treat people as either belonging to the I-It category or the I-Thou category. True racial color blindness is not color blindness at all but rather a focus of attention on something that is not an arbitrary imposition of characteristics upon the object of one’s consciousness. This is absolutely nothing short of the basic decency with which one ought to treat not only all other people but the natural world as such. One can reduce the problem of racism to this: One reduces the other to an abstraction, a member of an arbitrary group. TO pay no attention to another’s It characteristics in this way, to regard the Other as a Thou, is, according to Buber, to see the face of God (in the words of Hugo).
 
2.       All of this would be very well if the Politically Correct movement KNEW what to do about it. But instead they perpetuate the problem. More than once I have noticed that society is a projection of the individual. No two people inhabit the same society, because everyone is in contact with different people. Jung, Sartre, Krishnamurti, and a number of other thinkers have pointed out this fact: You are society. Yet society is all so an illusory abstraction, and you are much more than that.
What the “guilty liberal” does is that he or she creates a kind of separation between the “problems of society” and his or her own involvement in it. This is the mentality: There IS racism in society, I am not responsible for it, but I must take action against it.
The pathos seems moving. In fact, it is self-defeating.
Anyone can speak of “oppression” as a vague political term, like “Terrorism”. Yet this is Orwellian language. The word “oppression” is meaningless outside of a context, and that context is all ways provided by the individual. The reason that there is so much anxiety and depression amongst members of a youth culture is this problem of communication and miscommunication, because they are unified in belief in an idea but fundamentally separated in its context.
Remarkably, the dominator culture that they rebel against suffers the same ill.
 
If society is a projection of one’s self, then any actual oppression that one can be aware of is either oppression that one is perceived to be a victim of or oppression that one oneself does to other people. Given this, if no oppression seems to exist in society, this indicates that the individual is probably in a state of relative harmony with others. It would suggest that one’s relationships are genuine, non-discriminating, and in the Thou mode as much as possible (though obviously, as Buber pointed out, one cannot be in that mode all the time. We oscillate between modes, but one all so participates through one’s decisions in the up-swings.).
 
Yet this is not what the Politically Correct movement wants you to think. Instead, they assert that, if you are a part of a privileged group, then you should note that “racial colour blindness” is simply a form of naive projection upon people who are in much worse conditions than one’s self of one’s own conditions. Meanwhile, if one is part of an “oppressed group” and one does not become “aware [of the ‘Truth’]” that one is being oppressed, then one is not only doing a disservice to one’s self but to all others in one’s group, even if one had not hitherto identified with the group as strongly as with members outside of it.
This is bad. Because all that it does is perpetuate the sense of division in the system created by monetary-ism.
 
What to do.
 
The economic system is collapsing, and with it will go many of our problems. We are on the verge of some transformation that will be truly extraordinary. I do not promise that it will be entirely “positive” by any existing definition. Yet I have faith in that Humanity will make the transition to a Resource-based Economy and use its scientific knowledge, technological skill, creative brilliance (in all disciplines, save for the most banal) and existing abundance to create a radically new human community. Most of the perceived “racial and gender oppression” in the United States comes to us in the form of economic statistics. I have met people who refuse to seek courses of action because of the “statistical odds against their success”. Yet this is madness. You are not a number. You are a person, and if you hate he statistics then don’t listen to them, for defining yourself as a member of a group according to an abstract number will in turn perpetuate the problem you perceive by worsening morale.
 
We cannot control individual choice when people are in any sort of bureaucratic power. But a resource-based economy, as distinct from a Capitalistic, Marxist, or any other hitherto seen society, would rid us of bureaucracies and power structures in general.
 
In the mean time, it is important to note the difference between abstraction and reality. The word “oppression” only has meaning in an individual case history. Yet no one can pass judgment upon your ethical behavior other than yourself, at least according to De Beavoir’s Ethic of Ambiguity. This is because any outsider could easily judge you to be unethical according to his or her own agenda. This in turn is a form of oppression. Ad hominem attacks upon individuals who are “privileged” won’t help. Rugged individualism never helps. We must get out of the habit of seeing ourselves and others as objects and respect the power of human subjectivity. Fanaticism will only create Fascism.
 
3.       I do not identify myself as white. When I came to the United States, I had only lived in apartments. The first time my family lived in a house was when I was in the fifth grade.
Personally, it was totally overrated. I liked to keep the company of my fellow young people. We would play games in the winding snake-like labyrinths of the apartment complex. We would not notice each other’s differences, and the words of adults meant little to us. That was until for about the fifth year in a row we had had to learn about the history of American slavery.
 
When I was in Elementary school, a girl asked me what my religion was. I asked what religion was. Someone else asked if I celebrated Christmas or Channukah. I said Christmas. In truth, my family had traditionally celebrated the New Year in place of Christmas. But since my parents did not want to explain to me what the word “Christmas” meant and why people would put circular, doughnut-shaped bushes on their doors six days prior to the New Year, we adopted the American capitalist habit.
 
For a short while, I thought I was Christian, because that was what I was told. I all so was told that I was white. Had I not been born in the European part of Russia, maybe I would have insisted that I was Asian America. But my parents had more of a say in this matter than I did, and a child does not see fit to complain except in personal emergencies. So I went through middle school as a “want-to-be Asian” because of my attraction to Asian women in my honors classes.
 
It took me a long time to identify myself as Russian. That was because the system of political correctness in the Educational system and Mass Media on television nearly squashed the Russian pride out of me. Yet that was with my consent. It was very well, though. I kept a diverse group of friends. It was not until I saw how much my ethnic background affected my views, customs, and even speech that I embraced it again. Yet I have met a young man of Mayan descent who did not want to talk about it, a young man who was Native American but only mentioned it in his poetry, and even one of my best friends from high school, living in San Francisco, who got upset when I pointed out that I thought that she had a markedly Confucianist influence in her approach to things. Mind you: She actively practiced traditional Asian medicine, and I had been around her parents.
 
The PoC kids would say that it serves me right. But the matter is not one of individual guilt. I recall acting as a judge at a Speech and Debate tournament and listening to a moving speech made by a young Asian girl who talked about how Americanisation tempted her to forget her culture and to stop using her home language. She pointed out with the breath-stopping brilliance that I have come to expect of everyone but can really only find in Speech and Debate that the death of a language is the death of a culture.
 
And yet, all though I understand that it’s your individual choice whether or not to identify with your heritage, I am vilified for raising questions about people’s cultural back-grounds. And this is said with good intentions!
 
When I visited China Town in San Francisco years ago, simply being in the presence of a Chinese restaurant entirely transformed my thinking and brought me closer to my core. This “core” is not a Taoist or Buddhist idea; it is universal. Yet the latent Fascism of political correctness would efface this core by claiming equality. Yet this is NOT the equality of the I-Thou relationship.
 
I still visit China Town, I have just realized, in my dreams time and time again.
 
Dm.A.A.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

On Sheldrake, Fluidity, and the future of Physics.


On Sheldrake, Fluidity, and the future of Physics.

 

The only evidence I have found for Rupert Sheldrake’s theory of a law-less Universe and the only evidence I could need or hope for is that it’s the only view of Physics that, once entertained, has improved my aim.

 

This is not ‘merely’ anecdotal. It is in fact the most immediate, reliable evidence a human being can hope for.

 

Traditional physics does not benefit Athletes or Artists; it only improves the performance of Mathematicians and Engineers.

 

The only reason to vilify the anecdotal is that my experience is not that of an engineer. Yet that is a terrible reduction.

 

Technology is a form of Power.

For its ends, we need a Physics (and therefore a discipline of Physics) that follows stringent Laws.

 

Yet the human individual is not a machine. That view originated in the nineteenth century with the intent of employing the human being as one.

 

We therefore need a view of Science which is not oppressive. Since any ‘Truth’ that is available to inter-subjectivity depends at least in part upon the capacity to represent the world in an image in a word or set of words that can indicate the world, all Truth reflects, inextricably (except where it is deeply individual, and therefore perhaps non-verbal) both the culture and the subjectivity of the speaker.

There is no ‘objective Science’ to take the throne of the usurped Power God of antiquity.

 

The Athlete responds to a changing environment without thinking to link one moment to another. But the stringent theorist hoards reality in abstractions that carry the illusory quality of constancy and obscure the fluidity of the world.

This needs to change. We must transcend and include.

 

Dm.A.A.