Saturday, February 26, 2005

Those who are unhappy to find themselves without faith show us that God does not enlighten them: but the others show us that there is a God who is blinding them.
--Pascal

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

This interview with Simon Critchley is worth your time. If you're busy, here's a good excerpt:
Nietzsche's response to nihilism is the doctrine of eternal return. You could read that in a cosmological way, as a belief that the universe is cyclical and is going to recur. Or, as you hinted, Vico's notion of cycles of history could be seen as signalled. I think that's all window dressing, though; I don't think that's what Nietzsche means. For him, eternal return is much more of a moral doctrine.
There's a story told by the poet Heine about Kant walking on the heath with his servant just after writing the first Critique, the Critique of Pure Reason, in which he takes God away. He looks at his servant and suddenly feels so sorry for him because he's taken God away from him that he writes a second Critique, just to give God back. The essential thesis of the Critique of Pure Reason is that traditional metaphysics, God, freedom and immortality, is cognitively meaningless. We cannot know whether God exists, whether the soul is immortal and so on. That's the First Critique. Then in the Second Kant says: But we can still maintain the idea of God, or immortality of the soul as a postulate, a postulate of practical reason. So although I cannot know whether God exists, I can still act as if he did, and that can orientate my ethical activity.
Nietzsche ups the ante and takes it a stage further. He says: Well, this is ridiculous. What would it be to fully affirm the fact that God doesn't exist? To fully affirm the complete meaninglessness of the universe? And to be able to do that again and again and again. If you're capable of that thought, of affirming that this universe is not for us, that we're just here by sheer chance, and you can do that again and again, then you're equal to the force of eternal return. It's a sort of moral test.
This part is also interesting:
If I could go back to what I was saying about Nietzsche: what people get excited about in his work is this notion of affirmation: an affirmation in relation to death. I can affirm the meaninglessness of the universe and the ultimate meaninglessness of my own life, and heroically assume that. There's something almost disgusting about that thought after the holocaust, it seems to me. Adorno puts his finger on this quite well in the final part of Negative Dialectic. He's concerned with after Auschwitz. He says that a new categorical imperative has imposed itself on humankind: not to let Auschwitz repeat itself, and not to hand Hitler posthumous victories. He goes on to say that the situation of the death camps is best described not by descriptions of them, but by, for example, the work of Beckett. Why? Because it doesn't say anything about them; it doesn't attempt to represent what took place.
Now here is another interview with Critchley on humor, from a later date i think.
I begin from the assumption that modernity is defined by the impossibility of any metaphysical belief in a deity. That's where I begin from and that is axiomatic for me. It means that if I had a religious experience I would stop doing philosophy: philosophy for me is essentially atheistic.
Now, it's important to keep the metaphysical "death of God" separate the question of whether God exists or not, but even so I found this to be a pretty interesting statement because I've always thought religious experiences to be a key motivator of philosophy in the first place. Wouldn't the felt presence of God necessarily act just like the nothingness of existentialism, or the anxiety of Heidegger. God, whether he exists or not, seems to represent a radical Otherness from this world that threatens and calls it into question.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Michael Tanner on Nietzsche's last year of sanity and Twilight of the Idols:
And this is Nietzsche bravely talking about the joys of heaven from a position in hell--for this last year he says No as never before. One might even say that his affirmations are only, and this is his tragedy, the negations of negations. His faith--and it is remarkable to find him talking of faith at all in a positive way--is that it is possible to be someone who does not need to negate first. But he could never be that person, and the more dialectical cartwheels he turns, with wonderful and entrancing dexterity, the further he is removed from that ideal. The only Dionysus we can identify him with is the one torn into innumerable agonized fragments.
I think this passage does a pretty good job summing up my own misgivings about Nietzsche, while still maintaining the respectful awe I feel towards the writings he left us. And if we accept Tanner's idea that Nietzsche wanted to be someone who didn't need to negate in the first place then we have to think that perhaps Nietzsche's philosophy becomes a relentless and agonizing self-criticism (of the pessimist inside, perhaps) that simply enacts, over and over (the tragic irony!), the problem it seeks to solve. If only philosophy had the power to do away with itself...if only it would perish forever in an instant of joy, of pure Yes-saying, that abolishes all the little no's we say in self-defense against the universe.

Friday, February 04, 2005

"That I could clamber to the frozen moon and draw the ladder after me." -- Arthur Schopenhauer

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

The Metaphysics of Donald Rumsfeld.

The Unknown

As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.

This is a very old article, but I thought it would be fun to link to it again. The "poem" above is really quite brilliant, and even metaphysically profound!

There is another fantastic (and profound) saying of his not listed. To paraphrase from memory (actually the memory of a friend): "You are starting wiyh an illogical assumption and proceeding logically to an illogical conclusion." Saying this will win you every argument ever!

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Yet more proof that we live in the best of all possible worlds. (Brace yourself. I'm not kidding.)

See more of God's aborted creations here.
Conor Cunningham on Plotinus and the non-being of the One in Genealogy of Nihilism:
The One cannot be alone. The One cannot be alone because that which proceeds from its plenitude does no necessarily. Furthermore, the One many well require that which emanantes so that it can itself be the One....If there were no emanations there would be the nihilism of pure undifferentiated "being" which may threaten the possibility of the One. As Plotinus says, "something besides unity (the One) there must be or all would be indiscernibly buried, shapeless within that unbroken whole." If there was only the One it might be unable to be the One, for we know for certain it must produce. But if the One requires company, that which accompanies it must be nothing because of this necessity, if simplicity is to be protected. In being nothing the One and the many are equivalent; this many is but the one that comes from the One. In this way the one that is produced is nothing. The One needs this one which is nothing. But in needing nothing it needs nothing but itself (for the One is non-being).
Fascinating stuff! Interesting to compare this mirrored nihilism with Schopenhauer, where will and representation essentially dissolve into nothing at the conclusion of The World as Will and Representation (the implied unity of the title would seem to necessitate this). I don't know much about Cunningham, or "Radical Orthodoxy" for that matter, but just a few pages in this book seems pretty remarkable. Also interesting to compare it with systems theory: the necessary distinction between system and environment which requires excluding the nothing (environment) in the service of coherence (system), but nevertheless requires including it because the distinction is itself the founding self-reference that makes meaning. (Yeah, it's difficult stuff!)