Archive for the ‘Ontology’ Category

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Naming the Thing

April 1, 2010

 

When we endeavor to talk about a thing by assigning to it a word, what we are really summating are three different aspects of their existence as they are known to us.

The first is the idea of the named thing as something observed by our outer senses. The color, scent, feel, sound, and taste of a thing. When we use a word to name a thing, these things are certainly considered though they may vary in particular cases.

The next is the use of a thing so derived from its history in both our particular experience and universal experience. If we see a chair used as a chair we shall call it a chair if it is used for the similar purposes of a chair, even if its outward appearances are new to us. Furthermore we may mistake something for a chair if it looks like a chair to us and we may misuse it accordingly, but when another reveals to us the use they have for it, that too must be taken into consideration when naming the thing.

Lastly, when we name a thing we also take into consideration its connotation. This includes its relationship to us, its relationship to other things, and apparent similarities or disparities with other things. Chairs go with tables, and tables should have chairs around them. When we call a chair a chair we imply these things about it. Its connotations could be multiple and variant but they are certainly present and help us understand what a good table is, and what a good chair is.

The thing we are most certainly not talking about when we name a thing is what it actually is. We do not name something in order to know it at the core of its essence but rather to convey an idea. So when the philosophers say “you cannot talk about ‘it’ because you cannot know it” I disagree. We talk about it precisely because we don’t know it. We name a thing so as to bundle all our particular perceptions while considering other interpretations.

 If the truest nature of all things we apparent by logic or by the grace of your senses, we would have no use for naming things at all. For if all objects had a clear function then we could merely say “sit” and there would be only one true option for that command. Yet there are questions. From where or what reasons those questions come makes little difference to me, but it is clear that something is ambiguous. So let us not concentrate on knowing a thing as such, but rather how we know things at all.

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Corollary To Axiom IIa

August 23, 2009

All things experienced are internalized before cognized. Hence our knowledge of all outside things is passed through a filter of perception before we even internalize it as ‘knowledge’.

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L’Chaim

July 14, 2009

It is incomprehensible to me the absurdity of life. How sudden despair with depth and edges like teeth still uplifts and fulfills and how such transcendent moments come in the shower occasionally. Yet, sometimes after toweling off and rubbing the condensation off the mirror it leaves with both its wonder and its weight.

I find it crazy that people commit suicide. Note here: not they. I don’t find them crazy. I find ‘it’ crazy. The action set apart as a platonic form if you will. Suicide quo suicide. Half of me doesn’t care. I mean whatever, right? Either there is eternal existence beyond the body or not. And either way, they are going to be ok. I feel. They might regret the decision on the other side, but they’ll be ok. I have to believe that because I have too many faults to be afforded more mercy than them. And if there is nothing… well then what did they lose? Pain, loneliness, despair.

I like the way a book smells. New and old. And often when I read them on the love seat in my kitchen, or by the window, or outside I find myself thinking of women. Each page like clothing, each letter like strands of hair that alone would look peculiar but together form a beautiful style. Every turned page is a removal of a layer of clothing, until ultimately we are both naked – at first exciting but then disappointing after a while. The undressing, it would seem, is more important than the being undressed. There is something about knowing the whole story that disturbs me. All I want to do is go back to ignorance so I can experience the unveiling again. That’s a metaphor… Sometimes.

I find it intolerable to not read… something, anything. But not nothing. I find it crazy that people could find it boring. I guess that’s what makes me intolerant. Oh well, so sue me. I wonder how such people view women, and love, and family. How do they view history, humanity, and art. Do they view them at all? I guess they must. But everybody reads, right? Such people don’t really exists. I mean, I read too much, it’s not good. I am not talking about that much. But everybody reads…. sometimes.

I love it when people are honest. And when they touch you a lot. Hugs and handshakes. Kisses and kicks in the ass. I thinks that’s why I like alcohol and people who drink it. I don’t like it when people run for fun. I understand why they do. I just don’t like it. I mean, honestly, what are you running from? Or toward? And are you getting there? I don’t like it when people don’t do things out of fear, though I’m shockingly cowardly in that same way. Perhaps that’s why I like it in others. Perhaps that is why I drink alcohol. For honesty, and touching moments, and foolish bravery that makes you experience things you never would.

It unnerves me when people don’t drink. Even more so when they feel it makes them righteous. Even more so when they do so because of God. I don’t think he could possibly care less, really. On the other hand I understand them. What are they really losing but abstaining? Hangovers, bad livers, hurt feelings (the bruises of honesty), people who touch too much because their motives are other than humanity. The smell of vomit. The feeling of cold porcelain on your face. Not missing much. So it could be worse. It still unnerves me, and that is confusing to me.

I like children. I want some. My own. I have nothing against adoption. I just have no desire to do so. My love for children comes only after my love for women. Such a kind and gentle sex. Like children with minds of adults, and adult inclinations. Like interesting, social, and educated children. Not to mention, they are great on the eyes. As such, you can imagine I love families. I want one. My own. Yet being a father scares me. A lot. I had a good example though, so I should be fine. My wife would help too. I have friends that would be glad to help out. Yet still. I am afraid. What if I raise a Hitler, you know? Do I really control that? Such worries are ridiculous. But they come in those moments in the shower too. How desires and fears are twin brothers. Note here: not sisters.

I have no tolerance for people who think goods come without bads. Or that bads don’t have a silver lining. My theory: take a day, a real day, to be whatever emotion you are feeling – then get over it. Everybody needs to take a day for themselves. Then they need to understand that life is complex and not every day can be a day off, yet occasionally you can have one, and they are good.

Of course I say all this. Yet I still adore many a person and humanity as a whole. I can never look into an eye and not feel something. All these things that perturb me, before and after the fact, are nothing when I am with somebody. I don’t know why. I don’t know how. I don’t know if I am being dishonest or a social construct. It just doesn’t happen. That is the blessing of my life. All people have to be upset, have to feel pain, they have to be disappointed. It is good for them. But if you can enjoy the time when you are with others, forget your problems, read a book, have a drink, and just be. Well, if you can do that, you can be happy. People will either make you happy or sad, and 9 times out of 10 this depends on your perception. I got lucky. I naturally love people and because of it I love life. That is really all I had to say, so why I wrote the rest, and why you read it, is all a mystery to me.

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The Great Gig in the Sky

June 9, 2009

“I think its time we compiled a list of places that we shouldn’t go.” – Maximo Park.

So here I sit, listening to Pink Floyd and Jazz music. I mindlessly go from thought to thought, and occasionally write. Yet as each thought rises from my mind it becomes too vague to exist outside me, and it dissipates. To grasp at it, is to destroy it outright, to let it go, is to let it drift away into the abyss of the physical world. I am here again, at the point I always come to, the point of reflecting on the mirror’s surface, the knowledge of knowledge, the knowledge of self.

In the name of unquenchable desire for knowledge many realms of thought have been explored and perhaps invented using this vague ancient defense as validation. Yet, as we focus our telescopes on the sky and trail our microscopes across strange alien fungi, we forget where knowledge comes from, to where it goes, and why we desire it to begin with.

We desire knowledge because we desire things like us – we desire ourselves. This is why we cherish such qualities as freedom and equality – the ability to make one’s self and to make others be like you. The greatest scientific discoveries in the world have always been immediately followed with questions that escape the realm of science. Until recently, this was a shame to even scientists.

Yet, this post is not an attack on science (like most of my others), it is instead an attack on everything – perhaps out of some metaphysical angst that must manifest itself as anger in order to make my feeble flawed soul feel empowered like some ancient Greek warrior. But none the less, I lash out violently at the entirety of my generation, in the process scourging myself.

How oft I failed to stop and understand my own argumentation. How oft have I walked the tight-rope between logic and emotion claiming clemency from either attack on the basis of its counter point. I am, after all, a lingual illusionist. The David Blaine of philosophers. The Criss Angel of poetics. Have I garnered anything but applause from my audience, who seeing the trick are convinced of magic, yet go home knowing that it can’t be true – despite any emotional response.

Just like everyone else when I finally settle back upon myself I cannot put a finger on where I am. (Anyone who tells you differently is one of two things. A liar, or an idiot). Yet, like most people I still claim a ‘selfhood’ to which I am obligated to be ‘genuine’. The tension between these two ideas gives the birth of such beautiful concepts as freedom, free will, and choice. I am concrete that changes. The result is the amazing ability to stroke the passions regardless of logic, and then collapse back into a world of 1+1 justifications. Proof. Poof.

The greatest pleasures arise from this tension and furthermore by this tension is magnified like an echo chamber. This equality of opposites within our souls allows the passions to win just often enough to make us miss it when its gone. Then in its victorious return it is all the more glorious. Furthermore, I am not entirely sure that this is a necessarily bad thing, but rather a misdirected good. Part of me wants to embrace this passionate side and perfect its music – while another part, the equality of reason, demands I embrace something “higher” – an emotion that is not without its own pleasure.

The result of continued friction and tension is, of course, orgasm. The release of the self in favor of one or the other. In the release there is always simultaneous guilt and pleasure, immortality and death, love and hate. The person is either truest or most false in the midst of this orgasm wherein the ‘pure’ form of the two sides is most dominant. But in so doing, in so stepping into purity, we have betrayed the things that got us there – the tension of two opposites. So have we become more pure by dissolving one side in favor of the other – or have we become less human because we have too much clarity. Perhaps we add this to the list of places we shouldn’t go. Perhaps we draw a map and mark it with an x. Perhaps we just sit here and listen to The Great Gig in the Sky.

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Beyond Chaos and Order

April 1, 2009

I will grant you that any complexity can be arrived at through random process IF you grant me that all processes appear random until fully understood. Likewise, all complexity appears random in origin if its complexity is beyond our understanding, since the term ‘random’ most nearly equates to faithfully chaotic.

I will agree that order is subjective IF you agree that chaos in any form implies an order. Furthermore, if you want to say order is illusory than so much be function, or purpose, or anything really. Happiness, sorrow, death, and life have no order and hence no hope of construction, reconstruction, or understanding.

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Much Ado About Nothing III

March 18, 2009

Evil is the product of duality being introduced to freedom. It is understood afterward as a negative being (defined by a lack) but is definitely the product of an actuality.

A duality is the product of a schism, a disjointed whole, and hence is separated by a something composed of nothing. It is a negative being as we understand though when viewed in the whole this schism is part of a actuality.

Freedom is a quality only understood internally. An outside observer can never know if any given action was free. Freedom is understood by external forces by the absence of external pressures on a subject. It is in actuality a useless term. One invented to express an inward feeling that cannot be understood externally. It is, in fact, completely unknown to a subject whether or not it is free.

Nothing is that which stands between two distinct somethings. It is only understood with material analogues to frame such nothingness in somethingness. It is, however, possible that such a void could exist in an immaterial way. Evil, freedom, and duality are signs of this.

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Much Ado About Nothing II

February 19, 2009

Nothing can only exist if there is a something in relation to it to define its absence. Likewise if two somethings exist as separate entities then nothing must exist in a form of being between them. Thus, either things always were hence time never was OR things originated out of nothing and hence why we experience time.

In reality both are true in different senses. We did arrive from nothing in some sense but always were in another thus validating (circularly) my understanding of nothing in its relation to being. Parts of us come from nothing and parts of us may be closer related to nothing that things as we know them. This also validates (circularly) my understanding of humanity as inwardly contradictory beings that are irreconcilably split and best understood through metaphor rather than pure reason.

Thus what I say might not be right, but it is at least internally coherent and thus I am happy… for now.