A walk on the Wilde side

During our discussion (see below), Tome mentioned 'potential states of affairs' or something, so to encourage him to elaborate, I mumbled "is that possible worlds?"

His face lit up with a strange sort of joy.
He cocked his head to one side, then chortled: "I thought you said 'Is that Oscar Wilde?'"

Eliminating eliminative materialism

I was sitting on the steps, eating chocolate with S, the Derrida thesis-maker whom I've already introduced, and Tome, a worldly Heideggerian with a broad northern accent.

S mentioned "those crazy Churchlands", a sister-brother/father-daughter/wife-husband team who write articles on the virtues of eliminative materialism and the evils of folk psychology. I think we happened to turn our rheumy eyes onto this topic because we'd been discussing the relation of continental philosophy to science.
Tome rather liked the sound of the Churchland stuff. Their view - or what I can gather is their view from the first two lines of one of their articles - is that all action-explanation requirements can be fulfilled by neuroscience alone, thus eliminating (geddit?) the need for explanations involving beliefs or desires.
One problem I suggested might be that, whilst a desire, for example, is directed at an object outside of ourselves, a full description of our physical and neural constitution cannot account for objects external to us.
Tome thought this didn't matter, because any micro-physical description of a human would necessarily involve the fact that we are constantly interacting physically with things around us; that we are part of an holistic physical system whose activities fall under strict laws of nature.

Something of a phenomenological response to this might be that a detailed analysis of the process of light passing through the retina and transmitting 'signals' to the brain does not in any way explain what it is like to see: to see a table as a table, or to recognise an old friend in the distance. Can we make sense of aspect perception using only a physical explanatory schema?

It is reasonably plausible to claim that a belief that a person holds is in their mind, but what does it mean to say a belief is in their brain? What form could it take?
And does eliminative materialism require of us that we describe mental characteristics such as emotions etc in the language of neuroscience? If so, there is the further question of what it means to say that a feeling of hatred, for example, just is a certain kind of synapse flashing in the brain.

At this point the discussion lost momentum, so we all walked to the supermarket.

The joys of the Coventry job market

I had a group interview yesterday - all of us fighting tooth and nail for a ghastly market research thing at some kind of conference. Recession? They don't know of anything else round these parts.

Our 'task' was to ask the person in the neighbouring seat some questions, and then introduce them to the group using this information. Question number four was 'Why would you like to be a market researcher?'. I turned to the guy next to me (Kenneth) with a well-let's-be-honest shrug and said "to make a bit of money really" in as sheepish a tone as I could muster.

A short while later, Kenneth was called on to introduce me. No beating about the bush for him: "this is Andrew, and he's going for the job because he thinks market research is a fast way to make easy money." Ho ho, well shucks pardner!

The interviewer trained her beady eyes on me, forced a smile and said "that's very honest".
Let's just say Kenneth and I didn't part as best of friends...

Hardy's revolutionary Schopenhauer

I've recently finished reading Hardy's Jude the Obscure, having begun intent on investigating the claim that Hardy 'might have been influenced by Schopenhauer'. The answer is 'most probably'. The novel demonstrates this not only in its pessimism, a rather superficial and oft-mentioned characteristic of the German's thought, but also in that the protagonist, Jude, himself holds what on all accounts seems to be a metaphysics, and ensuing ethics, taken straight from The World as Will and Representation.

In the novel, Hardy establishes a distinction between nature and convention, with both Jude and Sue (the other main character) being thwarted in their projects by the conventions of an unhealthy society. As Schopenhauer believes that an ethical life consists in removing obstacles to the striving of others, and in trying to reduce the inevitable suffering of life, we see that in Hardy, this would amount to no more or less than changing society and its conventions.

How can I live a good life? Be compassionate, and ease the struggling of others. But how do I do this? Overthrow the conventions which restrict us; destroy the societal structures which resist our volition.

Three blind mice

I had a few pints the other evening with the Irish Derridean and the crazy pirate, and our drunken ramblings happened - once again - upon the question of philosophy and its relation to life. This has some relation to what I have been thinking about aesthetics. S, the Dubliner, mentioned that a pressing issue for him at the moment is philosophy's relation to the 'irrelevant'. How does philosophy understand that which is, according to S, outside philosophy: irrelevant? I would say that calling something 'irrelevant' implies that it is something that could never really become 'relevant'; but it seems that the only way philosophy deals with the irrelevant is by somehow giving it relevance. In other words, maybe it isn’t a question of what philosophy makes of the irrelevant, but rather whether philosophy allows of an irrelevant at all.
Given the kind of questions that I have been considering lately, I can’t help but conceive this problem as one of innocence. Now the links with politics and aesthetics become clearer: is everything always 'relevant' for thought? Do all activities call upon a thinking person - someone trying to live a thoughtful life - to adopt an ethical or political attitude, a stance? Perhaps someone truly engaged in philosophy does not decide to adopt an attitude at all…

The question of innocence: when is pleasure simply manipulated sensation, and when is it something caused by the apprehension of a work of art, for example? Does art not manipulate too?

Londoners ask: 'Are we all going to die?'

I'm afraid I haven't anything interesting to say about the latest terror toe-raggery...

Reporting the London Attacks III: Pakistani Police Colonel speaks his mind

The search for suspects in the London bombings leads investigators (and journalists) to Pakistan.

Reporter: Are you looking for any particular person?
Colonel: Yes, well, we are looking for the brainchild, the think-tank...

I don't want to seem to be mocking someone who's first language isn't English (my Urdu's not too hot either) but this response to a Channel Four News question is a surreal and hilarious example of mediaspeak gone horribly wrong.

Serious thought suffers another blow

A grave injustice has occurred at an ostentatiously wealthy Midlands university.

This year's Philosophy Research Fellowship was awarded to a young woman who has published a paper on 'Indistinct Perception' or some such topic, in a journal of analytic repute. This is all good and well: hopefully the paper will develop into a book etc.

The appointment takes on a very different complexion however, when it is revealed that, in competition for this post, was a chap who has just completed his PhD at said institution. This lad performed a variety of teaching duties this last academic year, and is well-liked amongst both undergraduates and graduates.

'But what has he published?' I hear you ask.
A tome, no less! Heidegger and Ethics, or something of the sort. Brought out by Continuum. Not exactly vanity publishing, is it?

The Heideggerian is a shoo-in, surely. On the books at Continuum, and already part of the local philosophical community. So why wasn't he hired?
Indistinct perception indeed...

Reporting the London Attacks II: 'The battle to ruthlessly expose their phalluses'

Yes, this was how BBC news introduced a speech by T Blair on how Islam must work to root out extremism. Perhaps more interesting was how they contrived to show a clip of 'Islam as it is practiced in Pakistan', complete with hypnotic incantations and roguish, bearded Taliban-alikes. What the reports suggest is that, contrary to what Blair says on the matter, we, the discerning public must look beyond the civilized face of Islam, and see that no matter how many intelligent and likeable British Imams condemn extremism, their religion cannot but produce young men and women prone to irrational and violent behaviour.
And as well all know - if they say it on TV, it must be true.

Reporting the London Attacks I: Livingstone, I presume?

Sitting down to watch an evening news interview with man of the people Ken (for whom I once made a grande coconut latte, but that's another story), I was fascinated to hear him say that, during the Blitz, "sixty dead was a good day for London". I still haven't quite grasped his point, but perhaps I'm missing something. During the plague, six-thousand dead was probably a good day for London, but that's irrelevant.
Maybe he wants us to rejoice: thank god Al-Qaeda don't have any Stukas or Messerschmitts to get up to no good with. Then we'd really be fucked.

Should we be so hard on him? Any and every link is being made these days between the current situation and the conduct of heroic Londoners during WWII, no matter how absurd.
Also, we mustn't forget that the whole 'back in my day...' thing is very tempting indeed.

More cat

Can you spot Manet's feline feature?

He's got it just right: a rabbit-like quality in the hind legs, and the mischievous countenance.

Cat

I've spent the morning trying, and failing, to read some Beckett. The cats were out. Not my cats, but neighbourhood pets. I was sitting in the garden with my book, watching a black and white kitty from the corner of my eye. Nothing much occurred for some minutes. Shifting position, watching dragonflies (the cat, I mean). But I persevered, and it was worth it.
The cat - I'll call him Strouvilhou for now - sauntered over to the hedge, giving no hint of the theatrical treat in store. All of a sudden, he leapt four feet into the air to claw at a white butterfly. What I found especially rewarding was the way he landed - and all cats do this - to carry on as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I must say I think I've made a new friend.

Books

I've just been perusing the first essay of Benjamin's Illuminations, hoping to find something on the topic of book ownership and property. One or two people I know have expressed interest in the question of whether owning books is different - elevated - from that of owning other sorts of thing. I was alarmed to notice my hesitation at the thought of anyone borrowing and reading a book that I own before I myself have read it.
- Why won't you lend it me?
- Because it's mine, all MINE!
I think need to have a close look at some Proudhon, or maybe just a hard look in the mirror...

Benjamin didn't really deal with any of this in his essay, but that didn't matter. He is such a good writer. I couldn't lay the book down, even to eat a biscuit.
After spending the year wading through half-baked analytic philosophy papers (that are not worthy of being called 'essays') which were only written in the first place to satisfy Research Assessment targets, it is refreshing how eager Benjamin is to convey his love of books and the thoughtful life. I look forward to reading more; I feel Benjamin has a lot to teach me.

Remarks on aesthetics and politics. Or, the tip of the Jean Seberg

I was having a discussion the other day, with a good friend of mine, M, on the topic of favourite films. I had told him of my new blog, and how I can list my favourite films in the profile section. I tried to explain why I enjoyed what is, I am told, one of Godard's least accomplished films (A Bout de Souffle). I should explain that my way of watching films is rather naive. Insofar as a movie entertains me, I consider it 'good'. Godard's mastery (of what, I don't know) aids my appreciation without a doubt, but I feel incapable, or at least disinclined, to analyse in any detail the impression a film has made on me.
Now, M has lately become interested in the notion of recuperation, whereby art, or anything which stands outside the capitalist value system, is subsumed under just this system, commodified and thus neutralised. (An ad coming soon to a TV near you: "Revolucion o muerte! As a Marxist revolutionary, I ask a lot of my soft-drink: that's why I prefer Sprite.")
His point is that anything which might be considered art, but which is easily consumed – in a comfortably pleasant way - is easily recuperable.
Marcuse has discussed this in some detail in his marvellous One-Dimensional Man, and it is clear that this is perhaps the main problem facing intellectuals in the near future. But what are we to say about the 'aesthetic' emotions elicited by popular entertainment? Can I explain away my surprisingly powerful responses to mediocre televisual stimuli by calling it a kind of nostalgia? Nostalgia for what: the good old days of ignorance?

Surely this whole issue cannot be reduced to the faintly ridiculous question of whether ignorance is bliss or not. We find ourselves asking whether Dostoyevsky is correct when he writes that "any consciousness at all is a sickness". Why mightn't we go further and say that any life at all is an illness? Because we raise the question of pessimism (whether it can be called weak or strong); one which I have no inclination to answer at the present moment.
At any rate, that question is a distraction from what concerns us here.

In essence, the problem that seems to haunt a commitment to resisting recuperation, is that of the (tacit?) acceptance of Mill’s hackneyed dictum: that it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. In other words, the hierarchizing of pleasures.
Works which resist commodification are those which, almost literally, resist consumption. Marcuse acknowledges this when he objects to the sale of philosophy books in ‘drug-stores’.
However, thinking ahead, we find that a paradox is beginning to form: on the one hand, we must recognise that people are unfree, that they cannot think, because of the stultifying effects of total immersion in ‘popular culture’ – Hollywood movies, Big Brother, and even ‘high-brow’ papers like the Times. On the other hand, we find ourselves adopting an unusual sort of elitism. Art must resist consumption; the very condition of a man’s emancipation is at once that which must be denied him.

Say it ain’t so!

They'll never threaten the values we hold dear

One flick through the mid-morning television shows makes me want to blow myself in a crowded place, if only to save some innocent Britons from having to be subjected to this guff. Coke-snorting presenters waxing moral to 'the yoof of today' about promiscuity and such. It's a sick world folks, but not as the papers would have us know it...

Samuel Beckett

I'd like to recount a brief exchange between Beckett and a companion, told to me by an Irish friend of mine.

Companion: What a beautiful day! It makes one glad to be alive.
Beckett: I wouldn't go so far as to say that...

Quite.

qu'est-ce qu'un blog?

Is it a way of communicating to different groups, like shouting into a mobile whilst on a busy bus, or is it something more personal? When a friend tells me that Bataille's On Nietzsche is 'just like a kind of blog', it seems absurd for me to try to find out what a blog is by reading the book; that's getting things the wrong way round.
Perhaps it would be easier to uncover what a blog is by looking at some (which I have done. Vaguely). The key to an interesting blog is tone. A good blog deals with everyday matters without being inane, with theoretical issues without getting lost in the abstract, with political issues without coming over all, er, dogmatic...

a dogmat

another blog

I was interested to find that a search for 'dogmat' brings up a french metal band and a polish security company of some sort (transliterating polish text is not one of my strengths). For those who read français - http://dogmat.free.fr/index2.html
I can't say I've listened to any of their work though...