On my stroll to the bakery, I spotted a Labour leafleteer. A bleak job, if ever there was one. Moments after he dropped his message of doom (sorry, 'appeal for votes') through their letter-boxes, two neighbours both erupted out of their front doors into the street. "I've had enough of these fucking pamphlets!" one rasped, hurling the red and yellow scrap of paper into the street and under my eagerly trampling shoes. With less community spirit, and more of the 'good neighbourliness' of apartheid South Africa, the women gave each other a look of disgust, then retreated back into their homes.
On the way back (my bag bulging with tasty treats) I noticed the leafleteer talking to one of the women. How he snaffled this interview, I have no idea. "So even you admit it - there were some good things happening under Labour" he said, er, labouring a point. His robust interlocutor gave a gesture of such disdain, I almost lost my footing.
Could someone remind me what elections are for? Nowadays most people vote for parties that hover around what used to be called the centre-right. And when, in the unusual case that a party or person of any distinction gets votes, such as the BNP, Hamas, Le Pen or Ahmadinejad, everyone starts howling.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Possibly dogmat's most foolish escapade
I was lounging in front of the computer, poring over Bergson's Mutter and Murmuring, when I recalled a galling incident (much like a boating incident, with less water). Towards the end of high school, I did some work for a small cycling magazine. One issue was especially poorly organized, and I was roped in to help with the layout - the headlines, in particular.
Flicking through the magazine after publishing, to check on everything, a centimetre-high caption caught my eye: "The Three Muscateers"
I assure you, "The Three Aromatic Grape Men" is not what I intended to call them (nor "The Three Omanis", in case you were wondering). Oh, the shame!
Flicking through the magazine after publishing, to check on everything, a centimetre-high caption caught my eye: "The Three Muscateers"
I assure you, "The Three Aromatic Grape Men" is not what I intended to call them (nor "The Three Omanis", in case you were wondering). Oh, the shame!
Monday, April 24, 2006
European thought comes to Coventry
There's good news and there's bad news.
The good news is that we've got Luce Irigaray and Frédéric Worms coming to give lectures here this term.
The bad news is that we've booked them both at the same time, on the same day.
What in the blazes!?
The good news is that we've got Luce Irigaray and Frédéric Worms coming to give lectures here this term.
The bad news is that we've booked them both at the same time, on the same day.
What in the blazes!?
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Is this the dogmat we all know and love?
Cynosarges - first home of the Cynics:
"They rejected the social values of their time, often flouting conventions in shocking ways to prove their point. They challenged their listeners to get in touch with their 'natural' animal side [...] disrepute and poverty are advantageous in so far as they drive back the man upon himself, increasing his self-control and purifying his intellect from the dross of the external. The good man (i.e. the wise man) wants nothing: like the gods, he is self-sufficing; 'let men gain wisdom—or buy a rope'; he is a citizen of the world, not of a particular country [...] The very essence of their philosophy was the negation of the graces of social courtesy; it was impossible to 'return to nature' in the midst of a society clothed in the accumulated artificiality of evolved convention without shocking the ingrained sensibilities of its members." (Wikipedia)
"They rejected the social values of their time, often flouting conventions in shocking ways to prove their point. They challenged their listeners to get in touch with their 'natural' animal side [...] disrepute and poverty are advantageous in so far as they drive back the man upon himself, increasing his self-control and purifying his intellect from the dross of the external. The good man (i.e. the wise man) wants nothing: like the gods, he is self-sufficing; 'let men gain wisdom—or buy a rope'; he is a citizen of the world, not of a particular country [...] The very essence of their philosophy was the negation of the graces of social courtesy; it was impossible to 'return to nature' in the midst of a society clothed in the accumulated artificiality of evolved convention without shocking the ingrained sensibilities of its members." (Wikipedia)
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Police detectives
I hate to love them. Watching Twin Peaks this weekend has reminded me of the very special feelings I have for certain sorts of policemen. Those men and women in the pages of books or on the tv screen, who embody a certain quiet seriousness, who are regular to the point of metronomy. It always comes down to rhythm, doesn't it? Inspecteur Maigret and his little habits, the subtle charm of reliability. Lieutenant Columbo, shuffling around in the same old coat, driving the same old car, tiredly berating the same old naughty dog. "My wife loves murder mysteries..." he repeats. "Oh, one more question sir..."
Maigret and Columbo, so often investigating those wealthy, dissolute folk whose very lack of regularity is their downfall. The calmness which grows out of the cultivation of habits would have made murder impossible. Instead those unfortunate souls drift from tennis games to cocktail parties without realizing their weariness is in the soul, not the body.
What better to express the rhythm of a person than their eating habits. Agent Cooper with his pie and coffee, the Twin Peaks police station with their nightly doughnut smörgåsbord. Foucault was right: the soul is the prison of the body. With the precise mind which befits a bizarre FBI operative, the body cannot but fall into line. Doughnuts, pie: it is not a question of hunger - they'll get eaten one way or the other, because the desire does not emanate from the stomach.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Sartre and Merleau-Ponty
De Beauvoir: You were very standoffish with people you didn't like. Merleau-Ponty, for example. You were on very bad terms with him, weren't you?
Sartre: Yes, but even so I once protected him from some men who wanted to beat him up.
De Beauvoir: You were singing obscene songs, and being pious he tried to stop you?
Sartre: He went out. Some fellows ran after him - there were two of them - and they were going to beat him up because they were furious. So I went out too. I had a sort of liking for Merleau-Ponty. There was someone else with me. We overtook them and said, 'Come on. Don't beat him up. Leave him alone and let him go.' So they didn't do anything; they went off.
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbSimone De Beauvoir, Adieu: A Farewell to Sartre p256
Sartre: Yes, but even so I once protected him from some men who wanted to beat him up.
De Beauvoir: You were singing obscene songs, and being pious he tried to stop you?
Sartre: He went out. Some fellows ran after him - there were two of them - and they were going to beat him up because they were furious. So I went out too. I had a sort of liking for Merleau-Ponty. There was someone else with me. We overtook them and said, 'Come on. Don't beat him up. Leave him alone and let him go.' So they didn't do anything; they went off.
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbSimone De Beauvoir, Adieu: A Farewell to Sartre p256
In the news
Are these people insane? Cutting off Palestinian Authority funding cos no-one likes the cut of their jib. Very mature. Of course we may not have to face the consequences of this foolishness if Iran steps in to 'resolve' the situation. With their nukes (I'm not obsessed - I promise).
My attention was also drawn to this article, in yesterday's paper, about the fugitive Mafia boss and the love-letters he sent to his wife. How fascinating: this is what newspapers should be all about.
My attention was also drawn to this article, in yesterday's paper, about the fugitive Mafia boss and the love-letters he sent to his wife. How fascinating: this is what newspapers should be all about.
Work
I am writing this in a state of joyous agitation. I have made a breakthrough in the Bergson/Merleau-Ponty project (you know the drill: 'if I told you I'd have to kill you'). The moment when it all comes together. They say it has similar physiological characteristics to an orgasm. Or is that sneezing - I can never remember. I know for sure it is just as good as that first sip of espresso. I wouldn't know about an orgasm anyway, cos, well...(Hi mom. Hi dad. Glad you're reading!) That's a joke, in case anyone's wondering (Hi mom. Hi dad.). I have to make that clear, since there has been some suggestion in the comments that I'm a mormon. Is it the Bataille? Or maybe just a spelling error...
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Tuesday love
g
On the eve of an Iranian nuclear strike on the very fabric of civilization itself, newsreaders across the world capture the mood: 'It's WAR!'
On the eve of an Iranian nuclear strike on the very fabric of civilization itself, newsreaders across the world capture the mood: 'It's WAR!'
The last few days
Unisex Middleversity: where 'ethnic minority' doesn't mean Chinese students paying top-yuan for the privilege. I took a trip to London last week, passing by the campus to see some of the Dictionary of Unrepentant Terms seminar. I had terrible hayfever throughout, but was cheered somewhat by the lightheartedness of proceedings. Prof De Libera, in particular, contributed to the jocularity with odd remarks - at one point he called Prof Balibar méchant, which means 'naughty' or 'wretched'. Sadly, that comment fell on unappreciative ears.
I was there for the two talks on subjectivity. I shan't try (and inevitably fail) to summarise them here. Interestingly, Balibar was to supervise the dictionary entries concerning politics, but instead requested the opportunity to write about 'the subject', because, as he said, "I don't know much about this." It was remarkable: he is not exactly a young philosopher casting around for an area of expertise - it seems he just wanted to work on something more original than is expected of 'someone who once collaborated with Althusser'. His career was made long ago, but he wants more. What a radical notion! We might even import it over here one day (but don't bet on it).
I became increasingly amused every time Balibar mentioned "philosophy of mind", or "Davidson" or "possible worlds" (ok, that was in relation to Leibniz, but still) or when he cried out for "a comparative study of Deleuze's Logic of Sense and analytic accounts of action"... (That's enough Conference Report. Ed.)
My eyes are aching. I'm stuck in the arm-pit of Phenomenology of Perception, where Merleau-Ponty is talking about monocular and binocular vision. Naturally, when he refers to the research findings, it is necessary for me to repeat the experiment myself (this involves much squinting of the eyes, and changing focus). One experiment which I did had a quite remarkable result: stand about two yards from a plain white wall looking straight at it, and, with an outstretched arm, raise your index finger to just below your line of sight, maintaining focus on the wall. Once you can see 'in the corner of your eye', the index finger unclear and double, turn your focus to the finger completely. Not only will the finger appear to 'flesh out' or 'materialize' as it comes into focus, but you will notice that the finger actually feels like it has transformed from a phantasm into a thing. I'm almost blind from doing this over and over again.
Speaking of Merleau-Ponty, I saw Lila in London too. I am convinced she could be the next Schneider (the World War I casualty who took the 'thought' out of 'thought experiment'). After a short stop at the neurologist we walked around Camden telling each other slanderous stories about fellow students and teachers. Jolly good.
ps. Here is Zizek's diagnosis of the 'liberal communist'.
I was there for the two talks on subjectivity. I shan't try (and inevitably fail) to summarise them here. Interestingly, Balibar was to supervise the dictionary entries concerning politics, but instead requested the opportunity to write about 'the subject', because, as he said, "I don't know much about this." It was remarkable: he is not exactly a young philosopher casting around for an area of expertise - it seems he just wanted to work on something more original than is expected of 'someone who once collaborated with Althusser'. His career was made long ago, but he wants more. What a radical notion! We might even import it over here one day (but don't bet on it).
I became increasingly amused every time Balibar mentioned "philosophy of mind", or "Davidson" or "possible worlds" (ok, that was in relation to Leibniz, but still) or when he cried out for "a comparative study of Deleuze's Logic of Sense and analytic accounts of action"... (That's enough Conference Report. Ed.)
My eyes are aching. I'm stuck in the arm-pit of Phenomenology of Perception, where Merleau-Ponty is talking about monocular and binocular vision. Naturally, when he refers to the research findings, it is necessary for me to repeat the experiment myself (this involves much squinting of the eyes, and changing focus). One experiment which I did had a quite remarkable result: stand about two yards from a plain white wall looking straight at it, and, with an outstretched arm, raise your index finger to just below your line of sight, maintaining focus on the wall. Once you can see 'in the corner of your eye', the index finger unclear and double, turn your focus to the finger completely. Not only will the finger appear to 'flesh out' or 'materialize' as it comes into focus, but you will notice that the finger actually feels like it has transformed from a phantasm into a thing. I'm almost blind from doing this over and over again.
Speaking of Merleau-Ponty, I saw Lila in London too. I am convinced she could be the next Schneider (the World War I casualty who took the 'thought' out of 'thought experiment'). After a short stop at the neurologist we walked around Camden telling each other slanderous stories about fellow students and teachers. Jolly good.
ps. Here is Zizek's diagnosis of the 'liberal communist'.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Feel the magic, hear the roar: Thundercats are loose!
On the left, logo for marvellous 80's cartoon Thundercats. On the right, the emblem for crime-fighters Serious Organised Crime Agency. Miaow.
To find out how to turn your criminal friends over to the law, click here (but remember - snitches are not long for this world).
Tuesday love
Today, I would like to sing the praises of the engineering department. They happen to take their coffee in Raffles, so I get lots of opportunities to 'accidentally overhear' the stuff they talk about.
There is one professor who repeatedly expresses his concern about lazy teachers and generous marking. He has high expectations of students, an unusual trait for lecturers these days (and something which, as a student, I find very encouraging).
On another occasion, I heard a lecturer calling for there to be no difference in pay between secretaries and professors. That is probably the most revolutionary thing I have heard come out of anyone's mouth for a long while.
There is one professor who repeatedly expresses his concern about lazy teachers and generous marking. He has high expectations of students, an unusual trait for lecturers these days (and something which, as a student, I find very encouraging).
On another occasion, I heard a lecturer calling for there to be no difference in pay between secretaries and professors. That is probably the most revolutionary thing I have heard come out of anyone's mouth for a long while.
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