31/12/2010

.


"The only way to spend New Year's Eve is either quietly with friends or in a brothel. Otherwise when the evening ends and people pair off, someone is bound to be left in tears."
- Auden




Did lots of philosophy this year, instead of the other things I dilettante in. de Botton is wrong.

May fortune befriend you.

joie de dickhead



We are not "just apes". Not even apes are just apes.

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Do you not think mass urination be an effective activist stratagem? (Assuming you weren't after the middle class ballot, anyway.)


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Do us all a favour and switch to this instead of Paypal. (And then dump them when they, too, have to refuse donations to Wikileaks.)


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Exhibit #F in the trial of [any putative benevolent God]:

Evolution, again. (As in; even if we grant the idea that a god might plan and set into motion a natural biochemical selection, the organic world is fucking nasty. Leaving the killing-and-domination program to run for 3.7 billion years just to get to the Point of the exercise (us, supposedly) is a profoundly evil act.


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"The majority of the human race prefers crap to gold."
- Charlie Brooker, c.2002

This Is A Bad Opinion. But, how to unpack my reaction?


"Mahler: I do not understand; Salome is one of the greatest masterworks of our time. How is it possible that it is so popular?

Rosegger: Genius and popularity are not the inverses you suppose them to be. Vox populii, vox dei.

Mahler: Right...but do you mean these people or the vox simul of all history?

Rosegger: ..."

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Things I have recently insisted "there's no such thing" as:
  • "the masses"

  • "good taste"

  • "Continental philosophy"

  • "human nature"

  • "light depression"

  • "an indigenous People"

  • "Chris Cornell"

  • "Time"

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A lot of pop songs are just some lyrics plus some notes. Joanna Newsom is different; she's lyrics times notes.

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The Blank Heart of the Natural World

Been looking for a proper list of natural science's assumptions (maybe the neo-rationalists?). Scientists are certainly in no rush to fret about them, probably because their work works. I am less interested in whether things work than whether they are what they claim. Axioms:
The implicit root of all analysis:
  • the first fact (the fact of our existence),

  • the first principle (principle of non-contradiction)

  • the first condition (capacity of the mind to know truth).
  • There is a world. (thick vague realism)

  • The truth is Out There (Correspondence theory of Truth)

  • The world makes sense. (Principle of Sufficient Reason)

  • All is flesh. (materialism)

  • Really, really good guesses are as good as it gets. (fallibilism)

  • The book of life is written in the language of mathematics. (mathematical realism)

  • All problems that have a solution are scientific problems. (scientism/positivism)

  • Anything which isn't isn't real.

And still optional:
  • You can derive the Book of life from its language and plot. (determinism)
Quizas.


"To the natural philosopher there is no natural object
unimportant or trifling ... a soap bubble, an apple,
a pebble ... he walks in the midst of wonders."
-John Herschel

30/12/2010

Listen Cloze, Now: "Broom People" by the Mountain Goats



"DISHES IN THE KITCHEN SINK!"


A long list of things in John Darnielle's stephouse: tales of ordinary madness. Sunset Tree is anyway just one very long song sung to his past.

The title is obscure; perhaps it means "thrifty folk"; a household that has to repair its worn-out broom, (and sweep all sorts of things under the carpet). The food is no better than "fresh fuel for the sodium flares"; processed, salty crap that he gets his kicks out of burning.

It's more than Caulfieldiana. He's deeply irritated even by mundane things in his life, depressed by untidiness and low-income ennui. But when he's with 'You', "in your arms" and "in the long tresses of your hair" it goes away. Things turn elemental, natural, free. He's the wild creature escaping out from under "the king of the jungle", an abusive stepfather.

(We can find anything disturbing. We can find anything profound.)

I'd thought maybe the arms he was saved by were his mother's, but in other places (Lion's Teeth) we see she's a stooge of his nemesis; 'You' is someone else. It's a bit of a leap to make Cathy (from "This Year") the object of each 'You' in the album, but let's make this leap. Love as exit door.

"Every character is a fuckup whose future is no bleaker than that of the planet we all inhabit. They aren't redeemed by Darnielle's love because he doesn't love a-one of them. But they are redeemed by his interest, in them and in the planet we all inhabit."
- Christgau, mistaken as usual.

But this abuse-and-escapism ties to an uplifting, forward sound; a dirty car-exhaust bassline (a '36 Hudson?) propels a beautiful TV-theme piano intro into one of his signature staccato-block guitar lines. At 1:02 something like a back-masked accordion begins to siren the same six note pattern til the end. The piano keeps planting these emphatic, dignified chords into every other bar.

I don't want to imagine cover versions: Darnielle has an inimitable inimicability. But (though his fragile nasal frenzy is his own and only his own) he probably sings for you-as-a-teenager, too, no matter how little you were abused. Actually, I'm doing a crap job of lassoing him. It's a precise voice, not frenzied. Or: it's a demented fantasist, not autobiography. It's a deeply sincere voice, not a joke. Or: it's ironic, not sentimental. In any case: it's gotten milder in recent work, and he can breathe devastating things out casually: here, the terrible way he says "freeze to death".

The album is relentlessly comforting if you want to change, get over it, look forward (it's named after an optimistic Victorian hymn of renewal). But some things leave a mark that it takes a lifetime and a death to remove.


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'I was there on a Sunday, and observed the rigour with which the young people were taught to observe the Sabbath; they might not cut out things, nor use their paintbox on a Sunday, and this they thought rather hard, because their cousins the John Pontifexes might do these things. Their cousins might play with their toy train on Sunday, but though they had promised that they would run none but Sunday trains, all traffic had been prohibited. One treat only was allowed them--on Sunday evenings they might choose their own hymns.

In the course of the evening they came into the drawing-room, and, as an especial treat, were to sing some of their hymns to me, instead of saying them, so that I might hear how nicely they sang. Ernest was to choose the first hymn, and he chose one about some people who were to come to the sunset tree. I am no botanist, and do not know what kind of tree a sunset tree is, but the words began, "Come, come, come; come to the sunset tree, for the day is past and gone."'
...
"Very well, Ernest" said his father, catching him angrily by the shoulder. "I have done my best to save you, but if you will have it so, you will," and he lugged the little wretch, crying by anticipation, out of the room. A few minutes more and we could hear screams coming from the dining-room, across the hall which separated the drawing-room from the dining-room, and knew that poor Ernest was being beaten
.'
- Samuel Butler


Come, come to the sunset tree,
The day is past and gone,
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.
...
There shall no tempest blow,
No scorching noon tide beat,
There shall be no more snow,
No weary wand'ring feet.
And so we lift our eyes
From the hills our fathers trod
To the quiet of the skies
To the Sabbath of our God."

- Francis Weiland

24/12/2010

Wilde and Warhol in bed

(c) Ronald D Gosses (2009)
Andy Warhol & Oscar Wilde meet over Margaritas


"Somehow or other I'll be famous, and if not famous, I'll be notorious. Or perhaps I'll lead the life of pleasure for a time and then—who knows?—rest and do nothing."
- Wilde


"If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films - and me - and there I am. There’s nothing behind it."
- Warhol


(Notes on wilful contrariness for a later work.)



Andy Warhol is heir to Oscar Wilde, but I've never read anyone noticing this. I don't mean just that their queerness crashed into and shaped modernism and postmodernism respectively (though that's a good one); nor just that they fundamentally share the role of the sparkling dandy riding atop our none-more-wishful culture; nor that they're the most quotable figures in history. I mean that their similar self-constructions - the effeminate, theatrical, aesthetically-fixated, charming, amoral queer - occupy a continuum and what we have become is at the sharp end. Flippant, giggling, wonderful nihilism.

Both reject practicality, but are often intensely unromantic too:




  • Wilde deflates love (his tools: the realist farce, the counter-induction, the epigram);


  • Warhol deflates Life in general (his tools: flat textures, block colours, impersonal industrialized production, print runs, trivialization, and glorification of the status quo which the artistic status quo reviles).


They also share a basic contempt for their audiences. I don't believe that Wilde meant much of what he ever said or wrote. Lord Henry, from Dorian Gray: "It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances. The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible."And the opposite, from Personal Reflections of America: "Appearance blinds, whereas words reveal." (Although he also thinks "Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative.")

Mine's not an original thought. The mercenary nature of his intelligence was clear enough at the time, and we loved him anyway:


"One might go through his swift and sparkling plays with a red and blue pencil marking two kinds of epigrams; the real epigram (which he wrote to please his own wild intellect) and the sham epigram (which he wrote to thrill the very tamest part of our tame civilization)."
- GK Chesterton, 1909

Warhol we didn't exactly love, but we lusted after his things hysterically enough to close the difference. Warhol is the logical conclusion of Public Wilde, a deconstructed dandy: he doesn't even need to be witty; he doesn't even need to be handsome; he doesn't even need taste; he doesn't need his talent!

These are lives aimed at glamour, and which feign indifference to all else. Wilde's greatest cultural legacy is to have tied campness to homosexuality, and, worse, vice versa. (You could call it "the birth of public gay identity" if you were feeling optimistic). While there is little that is elegant about Warhol, he freed art from the need to have any content at all; a development which Wilde would have adored.





The idea of a "fake Warhol painting" is ridiculous. There's no such thing, except perhaps for tax purposes. The Economist magazine uses him as the windvane for the art market general - metonymy which Warhol would have adored.

You might have heard the story about a Warhol exhibition in 1971; there were so many attendees (and so much writhing) that he took down the paintings, so that people could get in. Warhol was the point; he was the work. The actual paintings were derided at the time as "hoaxes"; and so they were. And so all art is. The idea of a "Warhol urban legend" is ridiculous... (What on earth has truth got to do with it?)

"But beauty, real beauty, ends where intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of a face."

(So speaks a man who loves men.)


"I know a girl...she just sees a beautiful face and therefore she thinks she's a beauty. And therefore, I think she's a beauty, too, because I usually accept people on the basis of their self-images, because their self-images have more to do with the way they think than their objective-images do."

(So speaks a man who loves cats.)



Samuel Beckett might have slotted neatly in between them - another malin provocateur. But he's too stark, so lacking in ornament that he would burst my neat category apart. De Sade fits, and anyway would use a knife if he didn't at first. Lou Reed was groomed by Warhol specifically for the task of being a nasty little man. Damien Hirst is a macho shit who'd headbutt his own way out of the analysis. These people are the cattleprods we grab on to.


Is it Nietzsche they come from, then? Maybe not. (We never accepted Nietzsche in time.)



From Wilde's Canterville Ghost: "Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."



: Wilde's too beautiful to ignore, but too dishonest to really respect. Maybe that's the point. (You can rightfully say "maybe that's the point" to any artwork; any ambiguity; any old piece of hollow crap. Maybe that's the point.) He exasperates me, but I am queer.

: Warhol's neither beautiful nor honest, but his "work" is supremely important, because otherwise art will die; art-lovers will kill it. It will become what classical music sadly has; a marginal, elitist, ossified time-capsule. This classist classicism is bad only because it's entirely false, traitorous and suicidal. I hate Warhol, but I am Pop.

Their indifference is horrific. Hopefully that's the point.


"Life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about. "
- Wilde

"The best thing for everybody now is to forget all about Oscar Wilde, his perpetual posings, his aesthetical teachings and his theatrical productions. Let him go into silence, and be heard no more."
- L'echo de Paris, 1895
(unwittingly immortalising 'Wilde' as a Name for the Nameless love).



"Warhol is a sphinx without a secret."
- Capote
(Yes, but so are you, you deep man.)

22/12/2010

Listen Cloze, Now: "Stand By Me" by Ben E King



Schlep; schlep;
Schlep-schlep-schlep; schlep,
Schlep-schlep-schlep; schlep,
Schlepppschlep; schlep........



An old Drifter rolls into town, and your front yard, and your arms.

In the best version (1961 single, not this ^ one), the double-bass is a mess; waterlogged, flattened, hushed. It's just percussion. But out of it: glory underplayed, undertoned, motive, roadlike.

As in all this calibre of R&B, the guitar and backing trio are barely there. The strings creeping up, up, up on him are a masterclass in predictability; their 1:55 spotlight is painful, extremist contralto schmaltz. And yet! they are after all only the bassline given razored, tight wings, dream-come-true dignity.

There's only two bits to the lyrics (fidelity, and apocalyptic fidelity) and scarcely two in the sound (that stepwise homophony, which King's voice is just interpolating, but with such measured, accented passion that you don't notice). Is that enough for this song to "be about" anything?

: Yes. Who knows what loneliness is? Not I, when I've you there. Metaphysics of friendship is big and strange, child. By the end, it's changed, no longer a plea. "Whenever you're in trouble, won't you stand by me": he's offering. There are better things in the world than reciprocation, but they're usually illegal.

Note the varying volume in the vocals (2:25); he's let go, dancing around the mic. Well? Would you be standing still, ever, at all, if you were Ben E King? The fade-out is brutal, one-second-long, demanding a repeat play.

Why can't something be pedestrian and spiritual? Surely only shows our crap understanding of what spirit is (and, relatedly what pop songs are).

There are apparently 400 covers extant. (A lot of them drop the bass part, a profoundly senseless and anti-musical thing to do.) Lennon's one is wrongly dominant (breadthless Bowie stuff). Muhammad Ali did one, and he actually does alright until the end. The Otis Redding one just underscores how balanced King is; OR wasn't half a drama queen. Pennywise's is an above-average entry in the LimeWire comedy punk-cover tradition. Sean Kingston's only song grabs the bassline, but leaves behind its charm, momentum, emotional poise. Bloody Bon Jovi did it in Persian(!) last year, encouraging "worldwide solidarity for the people of Iran" (this is a fact I don't know how to respond to). And turgid bachata toy Prince Royce took it up charts again last year.


06/12/2010

the antonym of philosophical is "realistic" apparently


"[Kant is] the greatest catastrophe in the history of philosophy."
- Bertrand Russell


"Russell is incorrect in this; this title surely falls to Hegel."
- C.D. Broad


"Russell and Broad were wrong, because this title undoubtedly belongs to Martin Heidegger."
- Paul Edwards

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"...the potential for stubbornness, coldness and small-mindedness - that is, manliness - among women..."







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People's passports used to have descriptions of them instead of pictures! I can't find the text for Casanova's one, but it's great, something like:

"Irascible of brow, his heavily intelligent brown eye fills one's apprehension, and his cheek tapers down to a full, high chin"


Here, Arts students! Jobs! (Verbal portraiture.)


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EPISTEMIC VIRTUES IN STATISTICS
(which help in drawing neat lines through large clouds
- which is to say, "producing knowledge")


  1. "Unbiased" - (N/A) - Having great expectations.

  2. "Consistent" - The more there is, the more I am.

  3. "Free" (v) - Having lots of things to talk about relative to the complexity of the grammar.

  4. "Significant" - (t, F, P) - Having the right to say I am not nothing.

  5. "Efficient" - (N/A) - I do the best I'm able.


  6. "Unskewed" (γ) - Keeping an even keel in different waters.

  7. "Goodness" (R^2) - What stones do you leave unturned, my child?


Maths is very human, isn't it, though? These are virtues in everything we do.

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Everyone thinks their taste is eclectic.

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Epigram to an essay on Russell's Paradox that I'll never write:

"I DON'T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT
WILL ACCEPT PEOPLE LIKE ME AS A MEMBER
."

-Groucho Marx

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I wonder if any literature prof (or, more likely, Cultural Theory bod) has done the legwork on a theory of monster movies? They're so great at expressing our nastiest fears, endlessly workable as satire, and have been doing it throughout history.




There's been a solid set of additions to the symbol-monster canon in very recent years, mostly masking single lumpen Ideas than anything more elemental. Consider:

  • Species (1995) - fear of sexually empowered women.


  • The Happening (2008) - fear of idiopathy, of things not making any sense



  • and now, "Monsters"...which does immigration through a tentacled lens...yeah.


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"Worms do not posses any sense of hearing. They took not the least notice of the shrill of a metal whistle which was repeatedly sounded near them. Nor did they hear the deepest and loudest tones of a bassoon. They were indifferent to shouts if care was taken that the breath did not strike them. When placed on a table near a piano which was played as loudly as possible they remained perfectly quiet."
- Darwin

Good christ but science used to be fun.



EDIT: My mate Johnny says it still is, and he's made a fractal exclamation to prove it:
https://github.com/elginer/exclamation/blob/master/surprise.gif

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"Is it any wonder he lost it in later life? Is it any wonder he pissed on nun's heads?"
- James, possibly confusing Benjamin Britten for Little Richard



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Lot of people mocking public demonstration recently, not (just) in the media but, what's worse, among young smart folks I spend my time with. Three biggest of the moment are the grand eC1st UK student clusterbomb, that facebook cartoon meme, and the first Reclaim the Night march in Aberdeen. I'll focus on the latter.

"I was just about to beat my child, then saw your cartoon character profile picture and decided again..."



Now, I'll not accuse those ridiculing RtN of sexism, that'd be unhelpful. I'll instead just explain this slowly: "Reclaim the Night" is not a march to scare rapists. It is not a forum for people to state publically that they do not like that rape business that goes on.


We're probably right to be sceptical about just having "Consciousness" of an issue be enough to solve problems. It isn't, if the march's goal was to reduce the incidence of rape (which it's not). The aim is instead to remind folk about things which are malleable to consciousness-raising, like the utterly contemporary and horrific tendency to blame rape victims:


"she left her drink unattended?

she was flirting?

she didn't check the taxi licence?

she got so drunk she couldn't walk?

she walked an unlit road?

she was wearing what?"


By these questions, women are made to justify their existing by night, to feel responsible - no, actually ashamed at being attacked, at causing their being attacked. This transmutes risk-followed-by-trauma into normative crime. And this is such blatant misogyny.


Fear is advised, mandated, naturalised. "We can't do anything about the bastards, so just stay home, hush down and don't flash any thigh."


The next thing, which applies to all protests (and, in fact, all kinds of sincere action) is that it is very easy to see the funny side of people taking anything slightly abstract this seriously. The cartoon-meme was funny and seemingly useless, and was accordingly subverted or depoliticized by everyone. At Reclaim the Night, we were taking the piss out of ourselves for milling around in -15°C for hours. But I won't stop doing things just because they have a silly side - simply because I cannot stop: this property exhausts the category "possible things that a human can do".



That 2010 research with the unfortunate/great name shows us all kinds of awful things. (That 23% of women and 15% of men have been made to have nonconsensual sex. That the rape conviction rate was higher in the 1970s than it is now.) These are things that need to be known: if the problem is with our ideas (as all things sooner or later are), knowing is enough.



01/12/2010

The Arrogance of Saints, 1



"A friend said he wished to improve the world. Just improve yourself; that is the only thing you can do to better the world."
- Wittgenstein
vs

"Is [existing] not an act of repulsing, excluding, exiling, stripping, killing? … I fear for all the violence and murder my existing might generate. I fear occupying someone's place."
- Levinas



Observation statement #1:
The Shanghai district government is offering postgraduate scholarships to foreigners (even philosophers).


Observation statement #2:
I am relatively poor and want to know Chinese.


Observation statement #3:
The Chinese government publically-but-secretly executes about 6000 people a year, putting to shame the rest of the world, who are only unspeakable 2000 times a year put together.


Observation statement #4:
The Chinese government covertly tortures lots (illegally, even by their own fucking law).


Observation statement #5:
There is in place, in this "Communism", a hereditary class order (rural/urban) reminiscent of apartheid.


Observation statement #6:
China's media is the 171st free. Censorship is omnipresent and often absurd. This only shows you what constitutions are really worth (Chapter II, Article 35).


Observation statement #7:
All the power is in the hands of nine men who choose their next nine men, and all the other men.


Value disclosure @3:
I am opposed to capital punishment.


Value disclosure @4:
I am opposed to torture, absolutely.


Value disclosure @5:
I don't like apartheid very much.


Value disclosure @6:
See that thing where people can speak in public? That's well good.


Value disclosure @7:
Whatever democracy is, it ain't this.



The CCCP is authoritarian in dozens of other unacceptable ways, and when clever people point this out with helpful suggestions, they get fucked.


Clincher:
I hold the tacit approval argument, under which one's economic or indirect support for an immoral process is itself immoral. This degree will be wrongfully obtained. (That someone is going to accept it is beneath relevance.)


Value judgment:
"Oh bugger, not again."


Possible appeal:
To get anywhere with these regimes, the human rights movement needs people able to familiarize and engage, more than partial boycotts and self-righteousness.


Appeal result, from Supreme Court Judge Ethics: "Lisa, maybe if I'm part of that mob, I can help steer it in wise directions. Now where's my giant foam cowboy hat and airhorn?"


: Fuck off.





Arrogance #2 is on Responsibility


Arrogance #3 is on epistemological honesty

A SKETCH OF FIRST PHILOSOPHIES WHICH TOOK FAR TOO LONG AND WAS IRRELEVANT TO THE QUESTION



- ARISTOTLE: Metaphysics as highest:
what is being qua being?” (metaphysical priority)

- DESCARTES: Begin with yourself (and then begin with God):
what is known?” (epistemic priority)

- KANT: Begin with the interface of active subject & world:
how do we have knowledge?” (apperceptive priority)

- RUSSELL: Begin at the most basic facts:
what are the real átomos?” (logical priority)

- HUSSERL: Begin with consciousness:
what does our experience say about the objective?” (phenomenological priority)

- HEIDEGGER: Begin with the meaning of Being:
why something rather than Nothing?” (“fundamental-ontological” priority)

- LEVINAS: Begin with the Other:
"have I a right to be, given this Other?" (ethical priority)


- BECKETT: Don't begin.
"."

(And yes, it amuses me to say "Russell" and "Husserl" alternately, too.)