In his essay "On the Unity of Nietzsche's Philosophy", Ken Kierans notes that Nietzsche demolishes the notion of the will (i.e. a basis for action in the world, a connection between the earthly and heavenly realms, etc.) in the same way he abolishes God: neither have any basis in the world:
"Hence to posit the conscious ego as somehow "the standard and condition of life" -- as Christians do -- is the "fundamental mistake": "it is the erroneous perspective of a parte ad totum -- which is why all philosophers are instinctively trying to imagine a total consciousness, a consciousness involved in all life and will, in all that occurs, a ‘spirit,’ ‘God.’" (KK).
Kierans' point here is that Nietzsche is destroying any notions of will and God because neither conforms to the world--they are illusions, misrepresentations of our true, worldly situation. But what should be mentioned here is the point Ken Gemes makes in his essay that decries postmodern interpretations of Nietzsche's killing of the subject. Citing Ecce Homo, Gemes suggests that Nietzsche does not demolish these stable, cherished notions because they are false representations of our situation. Truth, it turns out, is a Christian virtue--and one that "a certain species cannot live without". No, it "is not error which horrifies me at this sight". Merely correcting this error, i.e. confronting the multiplicity of the subject, is hence not sufficient. Even though Nietzsche emphatically states throughout the Will to Power that the subject is a fiction, a substratum, a creation, a construction without any basis in reality, this cannot be final. Following the fall of the subject, the idea is not to relapse into a chaotic consciousness, one without center, one without direction. On the contrary, the idea is to make yourself--with the love of life, and the 'will to power', in full view.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Study Suggests Dangers Surround Adhering to Health Studies
A new study performed by the Institute for Human Health suggests that many health studies might not be as 'healthy' as they claim to be. The study revealed that adhering to just any study, like the recent Johns Hopkins study which made the connection between papaya fruit consumption and joint pain, causes increased paranoia and can lead to a weakened immune system, as well as susceptibility to other diseases and even decreased enjoyment. Roger Malestrom, co-ordinator of the study, notes that the latter effect was not known to primitive and even early modern man, who were not swarmed by health studies like we are today.
"It really is startling irony," continued Malestrom. "All people want from these studies is to improve their health or in some cases to appear informed at dinner parties with friends. Instead, they let the studies get the better of them--they brood, ruminate, and in some cases stew over them. And we at the Institute for Public Care know that all three of these things severely detract from human health."
--After this, Malestrom did a cartwheel and screamed Malestrom Slam! He then tried to grab Joe, our cameraman, into what looked like an aggressive line dance position. After some struggle, Joe threw Malestrom onto the ground, panting and smiling, eyes slits.--
"And that," he said finally, "is what we do here at the institute for Human Health. It's about exploding yourself into the world. I may have been given the name Malestrom, but I don't act like one. I'm an unpredictable bundle of whims and wills. Get used to it. Hehe, See ya later, boys."
"It really is startling irony," continued Malestrom. "All people want from these studies is to improve their health or in some cases to appear informed at dinner parties with friends. Instead, they let the studies get the better of them--they brood, ruminate, and in some cases stew over them. And we at the Institute for Public Care know that all three of these things severely detract from human health."
--After this, Malestrom did a cartwheel and screamed Malestrom Slam! He then tried to grab Joe, our cameraman, into what looked like an aggressive line dance position. After some struggle, Joe threw Malestrom onto the ground, panting and smiling, eyes slits.--
"And that," he said finally, "is what we do here at the institute for Human Health. It's about exploding yourself into the world. I may have been given the name Malestrom, but I don't act like one. I'm an unpredictable bundle of whims and wills. Get used to it. Hehe, See ya later, boys."
Friday, June 17, 2011
Heidegger to Arendt
To appreciate the human world, you have to withdraw from it. And this is a transition is a movement that keeps going for those who are fond of both Heidegger and Hannah Arendt. From Arendt's perspective, Heidegger broke from the human world to what was, for him, most authentic--a relationship with one's existence, which entails contemplating one's own death, as well as the ontological boundaries that frame our (radically individuated) human experience.
What Arendt saw in Heidegger's thinking of his most intimate, individuated experience, his journey to the ontological core, was a tragic flee from the human world. For her, the world cannot simply be left on its own, it needs vigilant care. Her return to the world, which for her is nothing else but the human world, is influenced greatly by the holocaust and other political disasters of the last century, when human evil was on display. To sustain a polis, to ensure that it does not disappear or become distorted into a playing field for the will of a single man, is the work of many- and the work of the free mind.
What Arendt saw in Heidegger's thinking of his most intimate, individuated experience, his journey to the ontological core, was a tragic flee from the human world. For her, the world cannot simply be left on its own, it needs vigilant care. Her return to the world, which for her is nothing else but the human world, is influenced greatly by the holocaust and other political disasters of the last century, when human evil was on display. To sustain a polis, to ensure that it does not disappear or become distorted into a playing field for the will of a single man, is the work of many- and the work of the free mind.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
what 'throwness' can teach us
To my knowledge, Heidegger coined the idea of throwness; that is, a state of being in which we become completely absorbed in the world, in such a way that all 'personal' possibilities disappear. We are born into a world -not- of our own making, yet we are permitted discovery of this crucial fact; and by discovering it, we can shape our orientation to the world, i.e. see throwness for what it is so as to emerge from it, and free ourselves from it.
To illustrate my point I will use an everyday example: A family sits around the television watching football playoffs. It's the final game of the year, and they've watched nearly every game, followed most newspaper stories involving players in the league, and talked about these things with like-minded friends and family. Towards the end of the game (nobody in the room has an allegiance to either of the teams, yet they sit watching the game, loyal to their sport) the father says "I'm just disappointed the season's over." Everybody agrees. That night, each member of the family goes to sleep deflated, nostalgic for what a great season it was. Two or three days will have to pass before anyone can even do yard work, or put their minds to anything, without feeling a tinge of sadness that there is no more football to be watched.
What can this example teach us?
A hole has been left in the world of the football family. They have relied on it to fill their lives and to take their minds off their everyday concerns (financial, political). When the season ends, only memories remain, and of course highlights on the television that bring the sport back to life momentarily. As a result, the hole needs to be filled, not unlike the hole that requires filling after a family member dies. The hole is smaller and will therefore be filled faster, but it is a hole nonetheless, and filling it takes time and energy, which further pushes them from their existential concerns. Of course, we are never without concern--so long as we exist, we project ourselves toward things (even when we find ourselves helpless or directionless, like the family after the season ends, we still press on through time towards something....death to be exact.)
But in this example, which is a case of becoming overly wrapped up in something that is not of your own making (this is an idea that will have to be fleshed out) we are able to detect how exactly it is that we are free--how we can, as Heidegger says, "choose ourselves and win ourselves."
It is hard to ignore the affirmative nature of this declaration. That is, I am tempted to equate Heidegger's declaration here to one we might hear from the keynote speaker at a high school graduation; something like "you have to find yourself in the world," or "don't be afraid to be yourself," etc. But to equate his message to these tired, commonplace suggestions would be to miss the point entirely (and unfortunately.)
Because Heidegger is talking on a more fundamental level, an ontological one. We are existents--our essence, if we can be said to have one at all, is to exist. To live and to die. But talking about it in these terms often covers over our essence. These terms are what Heidegger calls "present-at-hand," which I think is
To illustrate my point I will use an everyday example: A family sits around the television watching football playoffs. It's the final game of the year, and they've watched nearly every game, followed most newspaper stories involving players in the league, and talked about these things with like-minded friends and family. Towards the end of the game (nobody in the room has an allegiance to either of the teams, yet they sit watching the game, loyal to their sport) the father says "I'm just disappointed the season's over." Everybody agrees. That night, each member of the family goes to sleep deflated, nostalgic for what a great season it was. Two or three days will have to pass before anyone can even do yard work, or put their minds to anything, without feeling a tinge of sadness that there is no more football to be watched.
What can this example teach us?
A hole has been left in the world of the football family. They have relied on it to fill their lives and to take their minds off their everyday concerns (financial, political). When the season ends, only memories remain, and of course highlights on the television that bring the sport back to life momentarily. As a result, the hole needs to be filled, not unlike the hole that requires filling after a family member dies. The hole is smaller and will therefore be filled faster, but it is a hole nonetheless, and filling it takes time and energy, which further pushes them from their existential concerns. Of course, we are never without concern--so long as we exist, we project ourselves toward things (even when we find ourselves helpless or directionless, like the family after the season ends, we still press on through time towards something....death to be exact.)
But in this example, which is a case of becoming overly wrapped up in something that is not of your own making (this is an idea that will have to be fleshed out) we are able to detect how exactly it is that we are free--how we can, as Heidegger says, "choose ourselves and win ourselves."
It is hard to ignore the affirmative nature of this declaration. That is, I am tempted to equate Heidegger's declaration here to one we might hear from the keynote speaker at a high school graduation; something like "you have to find yourself in the world," or "don't be afraid to be yourself," etc. But to equate his message to these tired, commonplace suggestions would be to miss the point entirely (and unfortunately.)
Because Heidegger is talking on a more fundamental level, an ontological one. We are existents--our essence, if we can be said to have one at all, is to exist. To live and to die. But talking about it in these terms often covers over our essence. These terms are what Heidegger calls "present-at-hand," which I think is
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Trauma
It has been called conservatism, has likely been diagnosed as a psychological condition, and is coarsely known as the inability to deal with change. Books have been written about it: one called 'who moved my cheese?' and a sequel called 'who moved my iceberg?', which tells of a colony of penguins forced to deal with significant alterations to their habitat and way of life. When an old house gets torn down to make room for a new one, when a car gets totaled an accident, when a pet dies, when a possession is sold--these are major incidents in the life of the person who cherished those objects.
It can be described in terms of trauma. TBC
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It can be described in terms of trauma. TBC
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Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Arendtian Hypocrisy, Tempest Lecture
first off, just a quick word about the 'freeness' of this blog site. who is to pay when someone reads my words and decides to commit suicide out of a final resolve that the human race is incapable of generating something that approaches 'god'? my stuff is coarse, impulsive, pretentious at times, overly serious at other times, and possessing of the potential to make someone feel down on themselves. just a thought. these posts may go on here without a price--and hell, it better be free--but they aren't without their consequences--as with anything we do.
I would like to address something that occurred quite long ago, in late november of last year, my FYP year. it was in a lecture on "the island" which was inappropriately named "The Tempest" according to the lecturer, Elizabeth Edwards. she said something that interested me at the time and which had reverberations beyond that lecture hall, immediately of course in the tutorial room with beautiful Jeanette Vusich. it was a shot at actors. In one of her characteristically semi-relevant rants, an effusion in the vocabulary of Brandes, she said "acting--what is it? it's pretending to be someone else" then she shook her head, looking hilariously despondent at the lecturn, and said "I don't know how you guys do it".
It was in the second half of the lecture, so not many people were sharp. Usually when someone made a controversial comment in that room--whether it be the person paid to talk that day or someone from the audience (which happened painfully infrequently, we were a well-disciplined bunch that year, until Beth Mcneill ripped off the brim that was lying low on conformity's face with her great "that's what she said" remark that had prince hall buzzing for days)...ahh, finally to the end of the interjection--you could feel the audience's reaction, their (our) groan or mighty heave of laughter.
Well what Edwards said was not apparently that controversial given the audience response, which was strange because King's is practically an acting academy. Maybe that drama teacher from Central, Mrs. McMillan, had them at the grand that day, who knows. I found it to be controversial enough that 18 months later I recalled it here. Maybe controversial is not the right word, or the right approach to take when looking at this claim.
Because what is at stake here is more than a whimsical opinion about theatre, a medium which demands that its participants, those on stage, forget themselves, and become, for a short while, someone else. A similar assumption of role occurs in writing, though there the level of imitation is lower--the writer still remains himself to a great extent, perhaps even anonymous depending on who you ask. From Edwards' apparent disgust at the actor's strange, almost perverse assuming of another persona on the stage, we are given to assume that her persona stays roughly the same at all times--for herself and for others. Where actors have no problem disposing of their identities and becoming whomever they choose, Edwards does.
Is what we have here a version of Arendtian hypocrisy, a vice Arendt calls "rotten to the core"? Denying the fact that we assume roles when we appear in the public space, a place where everybody is on 'equal footing', does not at first seem to be an instance of hypocrisy (as we usually understand the term). I usually think of hypocrisy as committing an act that one has already denounced, such as throwing out a plastic bottle after condemning people who do the same, and after claiming to recycle everything that can be recycled. Having just searched hypocrisy on Google, I now have a better idea of what Arendt means. The word falseness jumped out in a few of the page results. Is one false when one thinks that he does not put on a mask, rather he approaches people the same as he approaches himself (firstly!!) and his family?
Arendt, in my limited exposure to her writings, seems to have political motivations when she condemns hypocrisy, her version of it. That is, she thinks it too great a risk for political man to go around, thinking there are no barriers between how he is in private, when he is alone or with loved ones, versus when he is outside, visible to everyone. What are the political risks this man, and this lecturer, run? why is it so important to know, to know, that one puts on a mask in the public sphere, and that in private life he takes it off? Do we lose the crucial 'equal footingness" that we must have in order to sustain a polis? a polity? a healthy place for people to come and talk about things that are of importance to all of them? a common ground? I'd love a german word here. these are questions.
One's Public identity
the falseness of this public identity
the cultivation/preservation of this public identity
the political necessity of this public identity
I would like to address something that occurred quite long ago, in late november of last year, my FYP year. it was in a lecture on "the island" which was inappropriately named "The Tempest" according to the lecturer, Elizabeth Edwards. she said something that interested me at the time and which had reverberations beyond that lecture hall, immediately of course in the tutorial room with beautiful Jeanette Vusich. it was a shot at actors. In one of her characteristically semi-relevant rants, an effusion in the vocabulary of Brandes, she said "acting--what is it? it's pretending to be someone else" then she shook her head, looking hilariously despondent at the lecturn, and said "I don't know how you guys do it".
It was in the second half of the lecture, so not many people were sharp. Usually when someone made a controversial comment in that room--whether it be the person paid to talk that day or someone from the audience (which happened painfully infrequently, we were a well-disciplined bunch that year, until Beth Mcneill ripped off the brim that was lying low on conformity's face with her great "that's what she said" remark that had prince hall buzzing for days)...ahh, finally to the end of the interjection--you could feel the audience's reaction, their (our) groan or mighty heave of laughter.
Well what Edwards said was not apparently that controversial given the audience response, which was strange because King's is practically an acting academy. Maybe that drama teacher from Central, Mrs. McMillan, had them at the grand that day, who knows. I found it to be controversial enough that 18 months later I recalled it here. Maybe controversial is not the right word, or the right approach to take when looking at this claim.
Because what is at stake here is more than a whimsical opinion about theatre, a medium which demands that its participants, those on stage, forget themselves, and become, for a short while, someone else. A similar assumption of role occurs in writing, though there the level of imitation is lower--the writer still remains himself to a great extent, perhaps even anonymous depending on who you ask. From Edwards' apparent disgust at the actor's strange, almost perverse assuming of another persona on the stage, we are given to assume that her persona stays roughly the same at all times--for herself and for others. Where actors have no problem disposing of their identities and becoming whomever they choose, Edwards does.
Is what we have here a version of Arendtian hypocrisy, a vice Arendt calls "rotten to the core"? Denying the fact that we assume roles when we appear in the public space, a place where everybody is on 'equal footing', does not at first seem to be an instance of hypocrisy (as we usually understand the term). I usually think of hypocrisy as committing an act that one has already denounced, such as throwing out a plastic bottle after condemning people who do the same, and after claiming to recycle everything that can be recycled. Having just searched hypocrisy on Google, I now have a better idea of what Arendt means. The word falseness jumped out in a few of the page results. Is one false when one thinks that he does not put on a mask, rather he approaches people the same as he approaches himself (firstly!!) and his family?
Arendt, in my limited exposure to her writings, seems to have political motivations when she condemns hypocrisy, her version of it. That is, she thinks it too great a risk for political man to go around, thinking there are no barriers between how he is in private, when he is alone or with loved ones, versus when he is outside, visible to everyone. What are the political risks this man, and this lecturer, run? why is it so important to know, to know, that one puts on a mask in the public sphere, and that in private life he takes it off? Do we lose the crucial 'equal footingness" that we must have in order to sustain a polis? a polity? a healthy place for people to come and talk about things that are of importance to all of them? a common ground? I'd love a german word here. these are questions.
One's Public identity
the falseness of this public identity
the cultivation/preservation of this public identity
the political necessity of this public identity
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