Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Breadth vs. Depth in Philosophical discussion

This was originally a reply to Marion's post, but it got so long, and I don't have enough posts, that I honestly decided to make it a post for myself rather than a comment on Marion's last post.

I feel that a connotative mode of teaching a work is the best way to understand it more completely,discussing through example and culturally updated metaphor, however I also feel that an old work of philosophy should be read denotative-ly (if i can use that term), that is, in a way where we are reading the work in pure form, and also being taught about the culture and the rich history surrounding the work. This is where I feel that the Great Books courses fall short. I love learning about classic books and especially works of philosophy, but I feel that without the cultural context and the explanations of philosophical history of ideas, there is no way that a person can talk about philosophy in an intelligent way.

Philosophy especially is just so rich with information, not only in context with itself, but with other philosophers' generic views, taking other philosophers' definitions for words, references to works of literature, and other historical events, there is simply no way to truly understand what a philosopher is saying unless you have that depth of information about he subject matter. As I was saying in our Medieval class the other day, there is no way that someone is going to understand Bacon and his view in the New Organon if they only read the first 3 chapters, and they have no knowledge about how the scholastic system worked, as well as the definitions of various keywords that he takes from other philosophers of his day. To prove this, my friend has done just this, and therefore just got done writing a paper on how much Bacon hates education. This is completely false, but there is no way to address the issue of just how false this is, if they as students are not allowed to look at the depth of the information rather than the breadth.

These students want to be able to say "I read x philosopher, and I know what he thinks about y." But they aren't actually getting that information if they are just reading one work, and only a piece of the work at that, without context, and moving along. Is it good to be well- read? Yes. Do I hate the Great Books program? No. But I do think that in using this John's Hopkins version of Great Books, we are actually sending misinformed students out into the world. Without the outlining of the connotative experience of the works being read, along with the denotative literal translation and direct reading from the text, there is no way to speak intelligently about philosophy. In my opinion, it would almost be more fruitful to just lecture on the movements and ideas that these people were apart of and leave out the text itself entirely, because at least they would have correct information when they go out into the academic world with it.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Judson Mitcham Poetry Reading

Earlier today, I was fortunate enough to hear one of Mercer’s most distinguished faculty members, Dr. Judson Mitcham, read selections of his poetry. Let me say up front that I am normally not a poetry enthusiast—I much prefer prose, as poetry will either make me sleepy or send me to groaning. Dr. Mitcham, on the other hand, was a pleasure to hear.

The poems that he read dealt with simple themes, particularly love and the inevitability of age, but had, as undertones, elements of Christian theology and philosophy. Many of his poems dealt with simple people in simple situations, guided by their faith. One such poem dealt with Dr. Mitcham, forced to endure the proselytizing of the zealous woman in the seat next to him. This poem raised an interesting question about the requirements a faithful man. Should he quietly listen to the sermon, not acknowledging that he is, in fact, a member of that faith? Should he wholeheartedly agree, join in, and attempt to convert everyone on the plane? Or should he do as Dr. Mitcham did—privately reaffirm his faith, defuse the situation with a joke (the Pope and President Nixon are on a boat. It didn’t go over well, apparently), and resume reading his magazine?

This might be reading too much into what was an ordinary story, but it did get me thinking, especially in light of Andaika’s paper in class today—to what extent does action have to take the place of thought? How does a religious man have to act? Does he have to prove he’s religious, or is it enough to act in the appropriate manner (be that aggression, peace, compassion, etc) at the right time? When you meet someone of your faith, but you don’t really want to interact with them, what, if any, are your obligations?

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Descartes and Inception

Let’s talk about the recent film Inception. A fairly good movie, it was both critically acclaimed and financially successful. It was billed—both by the director, Christopher Nolan, and the press surrounding the movie’s release—as the next Matrix. It was supposed to have been mind-bendingly deep, “too smart for its audience,” promising to usher in a new era of thought-provoking and philosophically sound cinema.

It didn’t really do that. There are criticisms abound about what the film was and was not able to do, so I won’t focus on that. What I do want to focus on is the philosophy the film DID do right—Descartes’ idea of radical skepticism.

Briefly, let me recap the idea of the film: Leo DiCaprio is a man who can go inside dreams and steal top-secret information. Over the course of the movie, it is revealed that the dream thieves, much like Descartes, soon lose the ability to determine what is real and what is a dream. To help, they carry totems (small trinkets that have unique properties that will reveal whether they are dreaming or not).

These totems, and the ideas behind them are, both on the surface and on a deeper level, reminiscent of Descartes’ theories. First, the characters cannot be sure of whether or not they are awake. This was the starting point for Descartes, and, much like the characters in the film, led to a rejection of the potentially false. This means that both men are able to function in a world that is attempting to deceive their senses.

In the totems, we see the manifestations of Descartes’ cogito ergo sum, his one unshakeable principle that allowed him to interact with the world. For DiCaprio, his totem takes the form of a spinning top; for Descartes it takes the form of a principle that only he knows for certain. Both men are able to cling to these as unquestionably true; but whereas Descartes moves forward with his theories, eventually proving the rest of existence, director Nolan is content to remain based in the skeptical, cinematic ground already tilled by The Matrix over ten years ago.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Ryan Hanley's Lecture

There is an immense amount of information that can be said regarding Ryan Hanley’s lecture, but in trying to avoid being overwhelmed, I will simply just scrape the surface.

This idea that man has strayed away from an act of natural selfishness, the selfishness that is driven by the necessities of life, to an act of artificial selfishness, the selfishness driven by the need and desire of approval, in which Rousseau argues this (artificial selfishness) is due to the ownership of private property, is an idea that seems not only plausible but necessary. For, if human beings participated in a continuous act of natural selfishness, human beings would cease to possess the qualities of what it means to be human. Artificial selfishness is what separates humans from animals. I wholly agree with Rousseau that artificial selfishness brings about restless and misery, for the depression rate is steadily increases in society, but we will never cease to be dependant on one another, nor will ever cease to be in competition with one other. There will always be a desire to get ahead, to be one step ahead of your neighbor. Now, Rousseau argues that in order to correct this capitalistic society, equality should be our main focus, but Smith says no, and I agree. Smith argues that in an equal society, we would all be in poverty. Friedrich Nietzsche speaks on equality saying, "I do not wish to be mixed up and confused with these preachers of equality. For, to me justice speaks thus: 'Men are not equal.' Nor shall they become equal!" (Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra) Instead, Smith argues that morality should be our main concern. I agree, but how do we come to an agreement of the standards of morality?

Monday, September 20, 2010

Translation: Conotation versus Denotation

During Anime Weekend Atlanta I overheard many arguments about subtitleing versus dubbing anime. While this is a hot issue for anime it is also an important issue for philosophy. What the argument boils down to is whether you want accuracy of translation (ie subbed) or understanding of the story/character in your own language (ie dubbed). The second entails changing examples to fit with the current culture and taking into account the changing meanings of words. This issue is important in philosophy when dealing with how to translate philosophical works from one language into another. It becomes even more complicated when the philsophical works are old enough that the author can not be consulted to explain the intentions they had behind their examples/writings. What side of the argument do you fall on and why?

Calvin and Montaigne: Knowledge of the Self, Translations, and Dialogues

I went to a research/alumni lunch where a few students who were doing research got up for a while and talked about it. One of the individuals spoke about her research involving comparing the essays of Montaigne and John Calvin; while her particular research was involved in the French writings of each, she mentioned some things that I think have some interesting philosophical implications.

One of these is that both individuals were interested in development of the self, although the manifestations of this were different. From what little I know of Montaigne, I understand that he spent a great deal of his life writing and rewriting his essays, which, I have heard it argued, allowed him to describe the details of his life for himself, as well as for everyone else. By continuing to write about himself, he was delving into what it meant to be a self and what it meant to be human.

Calvin, the lecturer told us, was doing the same thing, although he did it through his commentary and translations into French of political and religious works; he did this, she told us, so that the common man, those speaking French not Latin, could participate in the conversation about God, politics, and philosophy. Montaigne, she argued, did the same thing in a sense by writing his essays in French rather than Latin. It would seem that both of these individuals believed that such works should be available to all, rather than just the elite.

The second topic that has sparked thought in my mind that she went over was that of contemporaries playing off of each other. Apparently, Montaigne came briefly after Calvin and therefore was well versed in the manner in which he wrote and put forth various ideas. Why is this interesting: well, I think that philosophy should be (and has been in the past) a similar conversation in which one is developing, strengthening, and challenging not only one’s own philosophical understanding, but that of others as well.

For example, right now I am doing research for Dr. Rosental on the dialogue between Leibniz and Newton, two individuals who vehemently disagreed with one another, and yet they participated in a conversation (although with several intermediaries) which helped to develop in writing their individual thoughts. This sort of dialogue seems to be essential to the development of philosophical thought, whether it is one person building on that of another, or two bitter rivals trying to sway the other.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Zeno's paradoxes

I continued the conversation that we had in PHI 311 today with a few friends at dinner. I explained the paradoxes to them and we decided we very well might make 4 shirts that each have a paradox on it and that say "Logic: You're doing it wrong."

It's rationalist stupidity like what Zeno presents, that follow only in the mind and not in reality, that make Aristotle's Formal Logic necessary. I really believe that he looked at Zeno's arguments and said, "That's just wrong, we need to make some laws against that," and proceeded to do so. My friends would like me to say here how strange it is that I hate this man so much. My mom says that it's probably a past- life thing, but I choose to believe that I love logic so much that there is no way around absolutely hating Zeno.

My friends agreed and we have no idea why someone like Zeno is famous as a philosopher. I don't think he even accurately presented his teacher, Parmenides', arguments. Socrates is asking him how he is even trying to defend his teacher's philosophy, and if it's not clear to someone like Socrates, then you are not presenting your argument in a logical way (or clearly defined your terms).Here's a quote straight from the horse's mouth: "If place exists, where is it? For everything that exists is in a place. therefore, place is in a place. this goes on to infinity. Therefore, place does not exist." (A Presocratic Reader 77). This man is made of stupid. Grrrr and Arg!!! Enough said.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Mind of a Serial Killer

In my Communication and Culture class, we briefly discussed Kierkegaard’s theory of the self. Kierkegaard focused on the idea of the self as being understood in regards to relationships. In Kierkegaard’s Sickness Unto Death, he says that “the self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation [which accounts for it] that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but [consists in the fact] that the relation relates itself to its own self,” and he also says that “such a relation which relates itself to its own self (that is to say, a self) must either have constituted itself or have been constituted by another.” (Kierkegaard) If you have not studied Kierkegaard’s theory of the self before, I highly suggest reading his words slowly to properly digest them.

In class, we expanded this idea of the self and related it to the mind of a serial killer. One, as a sane individual, may not be able to grasp an understanding of why a serial killer would commit such violent acts towards another human being. However, not only can one may not be able to grasp this understanding, one does not desire to grasp this understanding because one is afraid to have this relational connection with this serial killer, in which one is able to say, “I can understand why this person murdered these people.”

David Chalmers on Consciousness

So I saw an interview of this philosopher named David Chalmers. This guy is apparently a really famous philosopher that does a lot of studies and lectures on consciousness.

The first topic that they discussed was about Qualia. Qualia is a term that refers to the subject of our mental state and what it is like to experience everything in our everyday lives. For example, seeing the color red, hearing music, and having a conversation with someone, or feeling a sharp pain in my finger. In all of these cases, I am the subject of a mental state with a very distinctive subjective character.

David Chambers went on to discuss his theories on consciousness. He explained that there has to be more to consciousness than just the physical brain. God had to have put consciousness into us and it just so happens that we have a body to go with it. He then explained that there are two issues that we encounter when trying to explain consciousness. The first issue, the easy one, is that we can explain how the brain works. We know that we have synapses and nerves in the brain that interpret everything, etc. The hard issue is explaining why everything is always accompanied by a "conscious experience". He explains that the hard problem of science cannot be solved by neuroscience alone.

Periodically through the interview I noticed that he would refer to God. When explaining consciousness he said, "God put consciousness into us and then put a body with it." I'm thinking that when he thinks about consciousness he could be using consciousness as an alternative to the soul. But then when I think about the soul I don't usually think that my soul is the reason why I experience consciousness.

This topic is really interesting for me and I feel like I have to continue following David Chalmers to see what else he thinks about consciousness.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Society

In my political philosophy we had the most interesting discussion about Machiavelli’s book the prince. One of the issues we skimmed was the idea that we all have this need to understand who we are and where we come from. Although I am sure the question has been endlessly debated, I am still curious to know your opinions on that subject. Why did we create society?
I personally believe it’s merely because we cannot help it. A basic fact about us is that we learn; we do so whether we want it or not. Our minds registers behavior, studies our surrounding, and adapt. It is impossible to not remember that fire burns once we experience it; it is even more difficult to not remember our reaction to later. It is safe than to say that a normal human being who has experience a displeasing effect automatically rebels against the cause or tend to try and control the terms within it which it happens again. We learn and feed off each other ideas consciously or unconsciously we are each other’s mentions. We create society simply because we felt once the need to adapt our circumstances to our surrounding. Does it make any sense?

Small Press Expo

Over the weekend, a friend of mine and I flew up to Maryland to see our very first comic convention: The Maryland Small Press Expo, otherwise known as SPX. The trip was a lot of fun—we met some interesting people, and got to see some sights in DC, but what really struck me was the nature of the convention.

The convention was focused specifically on “small press” or “indie” publishers, mostly people who had printed their books themselves and not through one of the major publishers. This meant that the majority of the people with whom I spoke were putting their own money into the creation of these books, and, for the most part, only making back enough to print the next batch.

This made me wonder about art, particularly how these people were breaking their backs to publish their dreams and seeing very little come out as a result of it. Is what these young men and women do somehow more artistic than a mainstream publisher, because a mainstream publisher can support himself on the profit from his books? Does art require suffering for it to be art? If these people were successful, would it still be art, or would it descend into commercialism (for that matter, is commercialism art? Eh, a discussion for another time).

Most important, I think, is the fact that these people do continue to publish despite all the setbacks (again, the discussion as to whether they publish DESPITE the setbacks or BECAUSE of them is one for another time). From this fact, I can gather that art is a powerful force, sufficient to propel artists directly towards their own creative visions, free of compromise. True, it’s free of profit as well, but that just makes their choice—to focus on their own material—that much more impressive.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Hinduism- Relgions Role in the World

In my church class at High Street Unitarian Universalist we are learning about Hinduism. Today the topic was "God and Gods in Hinduism." We learned about how Hinduism started out as a polytheistic religion and as Buddhism and Jainism were branching off of Hinduism it was developing a monotheistic core. India was later conquered by Muslims and Sikhism was formed.

What struck me about Hinduisms history is how as the Hindu population became more diverse and instead of conquering the other tribes, and getting rid of the opposing side’s local gods/goddesses, they absorbed the local gods into Hinduism. This is what was happening during the (at least) 2000 yrs before it started developing its monotheistic core. Monotheism only started to be an idea in Hinduism after it was no longer as beneficial for the survival of the religion for it to absorb local gods in this manner.

So I was wondering about the role that religion plays in shaping the way in which people interact with each other? In the west during the same time that the Hindu’s were peacefully integrating their neighbors into their religion, the Europeans were killing each other over religion. This goes against the Richard Dawkins take on religion, which is that religion is a poison, and instead turns religion into something that unites people. What do you all think religions role in society should be?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Mind of a Creative Thinker

Mercer hosted a movie showing of The Neverending Story at Tatnall Park. Speaking very broadly, the movie is about a young boy who finds himself in an old bookstore in his attempt to hide from bullies. The boy is introduced to a book entitled The Neverending Story, in which he is instructed not to read, but the boy ends up stealing or borrowing the book without asking. The owner warned the boy that this particular book was not like an ordinary book; that it is possible to become trapped in the story of his imagination. In reading the book, the boy experienced this other world, yet of course he was still apart of the physical world. Further details of the movie is not relevant in this discussion. I want to examine the idea of the imagination.

In an essay by Sigmund Freud entitled Creative Writers and Day-Dreaming, Freud writes, "The creative writer does the same as the child at play. He creates a world of phantasy which he takes very seriously--that is, which he invests with large amounts of emotion--while separating it sharply from reality." (Freud) I wonder, what happens to a creative artist that loses the child within him/her. Does he/her cease to 'create'? For, a creation is something that is new, unseen, and un-thought of. Does the artist's work then become just a piece that depicts the reflection of the ordinary world?

Monday, September 6, 2010

Zastrozzi, The Master of Discipline

Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to be able to see the final performance of the Mercer Theater's version of "Zastrozzi, the Master of Discipline." This play had, as one of its themes, the notion that everyone should be judged for their crimes, with the main character, Zastrozzi, taking this upon himself. In effect, this atheist becomes God, punishing sinners for their transgressions. Setting aside the irony for a moment, this brings up an interesting question: to whom are men responsible when they commit crimes?

By becoming the force that judges men, Zastrozzi seems to make the statement that a crime is a crime; he pursues one particular man with a single-minded devotion that is often confused with madness. More than this, however, he seems to believe that men should be answerable to the men they harm; they shouldn’t expect to wait until their arrival in heaven before they are judged. This implies that laws and morals are human creations, rather than being divinely inspired.

The play also focuses heavily on themes of revenge; in this moment, Nietzsche’s abyss (and its tendency to stare) is called to mind. The play is clearly meant to be a warning against the dangers of allowing revenge to consume you, but more than that, it shows that a man who can focus on revenge at the expense of all else is no different from the man who was able to commit the crime in the first place.
This means that the judge is the same as the judged; what does this say about laws? Does this mean that laws (a human invention, which must be enforced by humans) can be broken in the pursuit of one who has broken laws? If this is the case, who will judge the man who, just recently, was the agent of righteousness (or, at the very least, human punishment)?

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Philosophy and Art

Okay, so, I went to view the faculty art work, and the entire collection was wonderful of course, but being as I hold photography close to my heart, this is what drew me in. The photography was done by Craig Coleman and entitled "Regularity in the Midst of Chaos." The photos were everday images of this location absent of any sort of unnatural ocurrences, but still there was beauty there. In the philosophy world, there has been debates on whether 'ordinary images' such as these can be considered art, and I say YES, (AYN RAND), YES THEY CAN!