Month: October 2010

Kerouac October Quotation #11: For the Sake of Absolute Freedom

It's October 11th today, Columbus Day.  This is a month to be savored day by day, hour by hour.  To aid in the savoring, here is today's Kerouac quotation, from "The Vanishing American Hobo" in Lonesome Traveler, p. 173 of the 1970 Black Cat edition.  (Purchased my copy in a shop on Bourbon Street in New Orleans on 12 April 1973, while on the road, enroute to Boston from Los Angeles.  From that point of the trip on I had two Kerouac books in my rucksack, the just mentioned and, you guessed it, On the Road.)

There is nothing nobler than to put up with a few incoveniences like snakes and dust for the sake of absolute freedom.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Two Sorts of One-Hit Wonders

There are one-hit wonders whose hits have endured and one hit wonders whose hits have pretty much sunk into oblivion, which is why you need me to prowl the musty mausoleum of moldy oldies for these moth-eaten memories.   Norma Tanega and her  Walkin' My Cat Named Dog belong to the latter category.  If you remember this curious tune from 1966  I'll buy you a beer.  An example of a one-hit wonder whose hit gets plenty of play is Curtis Lee's Pretty Little Angel Eyes.

Land of a Thousand Dances was Cannibal and the Head Hunters' one hit.  Its obscurity lies perhaps midway between the Tanega and Lee efforts.  This one goes out to my old friend Tom Coleman whose hometown is Whittier, California.  He most likely listened to this song some Saturday night while cruising Whittier Blvd, or else while enroute to a dance at the El Monte Stadium.  "Be there or be square."

Notes on Chapter One of Stephen Hawking, The Grand Design

Many thanks to reader David Parker for sending me a copy of Stephen Hawking and Leonard Mlodinow, The Grand Design (Bantam, 2010).  Not a book worth buying, but graciously accepted gratis! When physicists need money, they scribble books for popular consumption.  But who can blame them: doing physics is hard while writing bad philosophy is easy.

 Numbers in parentheses are page references.

The first chapter, "The Mystery of Being," gets off to a rocky start with a curious bit of anthropomorphism: the universe is described as "by turns kind and cruel," (5) when it is obviously neither.  Imputing human attitudes to nature is unscientific last time I checked.  And then there is the chapter's title.  I would have thought that the purpose of science is to dispel mystery.  But let that pass.  The authors remind us that we humans ask Big Questions about the nature of reality and the origin of the universe, e.g., "Did the universe need a creator?" (5)  True, but the past tense of that question betrays a curious bias, as if a creator is a mere cosmic starter-upper as opposed to a being ongoingly involved in the existence of the world at each instant.  It is the latter that sophisticated theists maintain.

The Big Questions traditionally belong to philosophy, but we are told that  "philosophy is dead." (5)  Unfortunately for the authors, "Philosophy always buries its undertakers," as Etienne Gilson famously observed in The Unity of Philosophical Experience (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1937, p. 306) He calls this the first law of philosophical experience.  Memorize it, and have it at the ready the next time someone says something silly like "philosophy is dead." As a codicil to the Gilsonian dictum, I suggest "and presides over their oblivion."

Philosophy is dead, the authors opine, because she "has not kept up with modern developments in the sciences, particularly physics." (5) To get answers to such questions as Why is there something rather than nothing? Why do we exist? and Why this particular set of laws and not some other?  we must turn to physics. (These three questions are listed on p. 10)  It will be very surprising if physics — physics alone without any smuggled-in philosophical additions — can answer the first and third questions.  But it will never answer the second question.  For we are conscious and self-conscious moral agents, and no purely physical explanation of consciousness, self-consciousness and all it entails can be derived from physics alone.

What I expect the authors to do is to smuggle in various philosophical theses along with their physics.  But if they do so — if they stray the least bit from pure physics — then they prove that philosophy is alive after all, in their musings.  What they will then be doing is not opposing philosophy as such, but urging their philosophy on us, all the while hiding from us the fact that it is indeed philosophy.

That's a pretty shabby tactic, if you want my opinion. (And there you have it, even if you don't want it.)  You posture as if you are opposing all philosophy which you claim is "dead," which presumably means 'cognitively worthless,' and then you go on to make blatantly philosophical assertions which are neither properly clarified as to their sense, nor supported by anything that could count as rigorous argumentation. For example, in Chapter 2, the authors opine that "free will is just an illusion."  (32)  The sloppy  'reasoning'  laden with rhetorical questions that leads up to this obviously philosophical assertion is nothing that could be justified by pure physics.  I will come back to this when I discuss Chapter 2.

Quantum theory is brought up and the suggestion is floated that "the universe itself has no single history, nor even an independent existence." (6) It has "every possible history."  A little later we are introduced to M-theory:

. . . M-theory predicts that a great many universes were created out of nothing.  Their creation does not require the intervention of some supernatural being or god.  Rather,these multiple universes arise naturally from physical law. (8-9)

The writing here is quite inept.  If the authors want to say that these universes came into being out of nothing, they should say that, and not say that they were created out of nothing.  Creation, whether out of nothing or out of something,  implies a creator.  It is also inept to speak of 'intervention.'  If God creates a universe, he does not intervene in it; he causes it to exist in the first place.  One can intervene only in what already exists.  Such sloppy writing does not inspire confidence, and suggests that the thinking behind the writing is equally sloppy.  But even ignoring these infelicities of expression, it is a plain contradiciton to say that these universes comes into being out of nothing and that they arise naturally from physical law.  Whatever physical law is, it is not nothing!  That's clear, I hope.  So why don't our physicists say what they mean, namely that these multiple universes came into being , not from nothing, but from physical law.  That would be noncontradictory although it would prompt the question as to the nature and existence of physical law or laws. 

Another apparent contradiction worth noting: After mentioning quantum theory in the Chapter 1, the authjors assure us in Chpater 2  that "scientific determinism" is "the basis of all modern science." (30) How this is supposed to jive, I have no idea.  But hey, when the idea is to make a fast buck, who cares about such niceties as logical consistency?

Not only did many universes come into existence out of physical law (or is it out of nothing?), but "Each universe has many possible histories and many possible states at later times, that is at times like the present . . . ." (9)  Most of these states are unsuitable for the existence of any form of life.  It is our presence that "selects out from this vast array only those universes that are compatible with our existence." (9)  That's a neat trick given that universes "have no independent existence." (6)  If so, then we have no independent existence and cannot function as the "lords of creation" (9) who select among the vast array of universes.

But I want to be fair.  Perhaps later chapters will remove some of the murk.  There is also this consideration:  Even bad books are good if they stimulate thought. But don't buy it.  Borrow it from a library.

As I always say, "Never buy a book you haven't read."

 

Two Questions About the Bundle Theory Answered

On the bundle-of-universals theory of ordinary concrete particulars, such a particular is a bundle of its properties and its properties are universals.  This theory will appeal to those who, for various ontological and epistemological reasons, resist substratum theories and think of properties as universals.  Empiricists like Bertrand Russell, for example.  Powerful objections can be brought against the theory, but the following two questions suggested by  some comments of Peter Lupu  in an earlier thread are, I think, easily answered.

Q1.  How may universals does it take to constitute a particular?  Could there be a particular composed of only one or only two universals?

Q2.  We speak of particulars exemplifying properties.  But if a particular is a bundle of its properties, what could it mean to say of a particular that it exemplifies a property?

A1.  The answer is that it takes a complete set.  I take it to be a datum that the ordinary meso-particulars of Sellars' Manifest Image — let's stick with these — are completely determinate or complete in the following sense:

D1. X is complete =df for any predicate P, either x satisfies P or  x satisfies the complement of  P.

If predicates express properties, and properties are universals, and ordinary particulars are bundles of properties, then for each such particular there must be a complete set of universals.  For example, there cannot be a red rubber ball that has as constituents exactly three universals: being red, being made of rubber, being round.  For it must also have a determinate size, a determinate spatiotemporal location, and so on.  It has to be such that it is either covered with Fido's saliva or not so distinguished.  If it is red, then it must have a color; if it is round, it must have a shape, and so on.  This brings in further universals.  Whatever is, is complete.  That is a law of metaphysics, I should think.  Or perhaps it is only a law of phenomenological ontology, a law of the denizens of the Manifest Image.  (Let's not get into quantum mechanics.) 

A2.  If a particular is a bundle of universals, then it is a whole of parts, the universals being the (proper) parts, though not quite in the sense of classical mereology.  Why do I say that? Well, suppose you have a complete set of universals, and suppose further that they are logically and nomologically compossible.  It doesn't follow that they form a bundle.  But it does follow, by Unrestricted Summation, that there is a classical mereological sum of the universals.  So the bundle is not a sum.  Something more is required, namely, the contingent bundling to make of the universals a bundle, and thus a particular.

Now on a scheme like this there is no exemplification (EX) strictly speaking.  EX is an asymmetrical relation — or relational tie:  If x exemplifies P-ness, then it is not the case that P-ness exemplifies x.  Bundling is not exemplification because bundling is symmetrical: if U1 is bundled with U2, then U2 is bundled with U1.  So what do we mean when we say of a particular construed as a bundle that is has — or 'exemplifies' or 'instantiates' using these terms loosely — a property?  We mean that it has the property as a 'part.'   Not as a spatial or temporal part, but as an ontological part.  Thus:

D2. Bundle B has the property P-ness =df P=ness is an ontological 'part' of B.

Does this scheme bring problems in its train?  Of course!  They are for me to know and for you to figure out.

 

The Beat Generation, the Tea Party and the Meaning of ‘Beat’

Many thanks to that indefatigable argonaut of the cybersphere, Dave Lull, for bringing Lee Siegel's The Beat Generation and the Tea Party to my attention.  An auspicious find in this fine October, Kerouac month hereabouts.  If I wanted to be unkind I would say that the article proves that anything can be compared to anything.  But he does make some good points.  Excerpt:

Still, American dissent turns on a tradition of troublemaking, suspicion of elites and feelings of powerlessness, no matter where on the political spectrum dissent takes place. Surely just about every Tea Partier agrees with Ginsberg on the enervating effect of the liberal media: “Are you going to let our emotional life,” he once wrote, “be run by Time magazine?”

More seriously, the origin of the word “beat” has a connection to the Tea Partiers’ sense that they are being marginalized as the country is taken away from them. According to Ginsberg, to be “beat” most basically signified “exhausted, at the bottom of the world, looking up or out . . . rejected by society.” Barack Obama meant much the same thing when, during the presidential primaries, he notoriously said that “in a lot of these communities in big industrial states like Ohio and Pennsylvania, people have been beaten down so long, and they feel so betrayed by government.” That he went on to characterize such people as “bitter” souls who “cling to their guns or religion or antipathy toward people who aren’t like them” only strengthened the anxiety among proto-Tea Partiers that they were about to be “rejected by society.”

Here some serious qualifications are in order.  Although 'beat' does have the connotation of 'beaten down' and 'exhausted,' this meaning is strictly secondary when compared to the term's fundamental meaning which is in the semantic vicinity of 'beatific,' 'beatitude,' The Eight Beatitudes, and the Beatific Vision (visio beata) in the theology of Thomas Aquinas.  Kerouac cannot be understood apart from his Catholic upbringing.  If we take Dean Moriarty (Neal Cassady) and Sal Paradise (Jack Kerouac) of On the Road as the main exemplars of beatness, there is nothing of the cool, jaded beatnik about them (the latter term an invention of the liberal media modeled on 'sputnik.')  They are not cool, but hot, 'mad,' joyously affirmative.  Every Kerouac aficionado thrills to the passage near the beginning of On the Road where Sal confesses: ". . . the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved . . . ." (p. 9)

The very name 'Sal Paradise' is a tip-off.  Salvatore, Salvator: savior.  Paradise: the prelapsarian state, the state before the lapsus or Fall, or else heaven.  Is there any book of his where our bourbon-besotted boy does not talk of heaven? It's all about salvation, happiness, heaven.  In part this is why he distances himself from Buddhism whose solution to suffering is merely negative: 

Myself, the dharma is slipping away from my consciousness and I cant think of anything to say about it anymore. I still read the diamond sutra but as in a dream now.  Don't know what to do.  Cant see the purpose of human or terrestrial or any kinda life without heaven to reward the poor suffering fucks. The Buddhist notion that Ignorance caused the world leaves me cold now, because I feel the presence of angels. (Some of the Dharma, Viking 1997, editor's introduction.)

And then there is the later OTR passage in which the 'beat' is explained:

. . . his [Dean's] bony mad face covered with sweat and throbbing veins saying, "Yes, yes, yes, " as though tremendous revelations were pouring into him all the time now . . . . He was BEAT — the root, the soul of Beatific. (OTR, 161)

See also this Kerouac  interview for confirmation.  This was two years before his death.

Siegel's piece, then, is quite a stretch, but very interesting nonetheless.  But it is annoying when he quotes Ginsberg but provides no reference.  

Kerouac October Quotation #8 The Detritus of Literary Production

Satori in Paris (Grove Press, 1966), p. 35:

The whole library groaned with the accumulated debris of centures of recorded folly, as tho you had to record folly in the Old or the New World anyhow, like my closet with its incredible debris of cluttered old letters by the thousands, books, dust, magazines, childhood boxscores, the likes of which when I woke up the other night from a pure sleep, made me groan to think this is what I was doing with my waking hours: burdening myself with junk neither I nor anybody else should really want or will ever remember in Heaven.

Hits a nerve.  I also note the incongruity of a book ostensibly about satori mentioning heaven.  My longstanding sentimental attachment to the old dharma lush makes me overlook his silly misuse of 'satori' to refer to his inebriated Parisian experiences.

Happiness

"You can't make the unhappy happy."  I just heard Dennis Prager say this during his Happiness Hour.  An important truth.  There are people who are bent on being miserable, no matter what their circumstances or endowments.  As a general rule, they are best avoided if you want to be happy yourself.

Companion post:  People Are What They Are.

Supererogation and Suberogation

It would be neat if all actions could be sorted into three jointly exhaustive classes: the permissible, the impermissible, and the obligatory. These deontic modes would then be analogous to the alethic modes of possibility, impossibility, and necessity. Intuitively, the permissible is the morally possible, that which we may do; the impermissible is the morally impossible, that which we may not do; and the obligatory is the morally necessary, that which we must do.

Pursuing the analogy, we note that the following two alethic modal principles each has a deontic analog, where 'p' ranges over propositions and 'A' over actions:

Joseph Sobran

Joseph Sobran is dead at the age of 64.  Beginning as a paleocon, he ended up an anarchist, and apparently something of an anti-Semite.    His 1985 Pensees: Notes for the Reactionary of Tomorrow, however, contains a wealth of important ideas worth ruminating on.  A couple of excerpts, not necessarily the best:

"The poor" are to liberalism roughly what "the proletariat" is to Communism–a formalistic device for legitimating the assumption of power. What matters, for practical liberals, is not that (for example) the black illegitimacy rate has nearly tripled since the dawn of the Great Society; it is that a huge new class of beneficiaries has been engendered–beneficiaries who vote, and who feel entitled to money that must be taken from others. It is too seldom pointed out that a voter is a public official, and that the use of proffered entitlements to win votes amounts to bribery. For this reason John Stuart Mill pronounced it axiomatic that those who get relief from the state should be disfranchised. But such a proposal would now be called inhuman, which helps account for the gargantuan increase in the size and scope of federal spending. Corrupt politicians make headlines; but no honest politician dares to refer to the problem of corrupt voters, who use the state as an instrument of gain.

[. . .]

The enemy, for socialism, is any permanent authority, whether it is a long-standing church or a holy scripture, whose tendency is to put a brake on political power. In fact power and authority are often confused nowadays: the thoroughly politicized man who seeks power can only experience and interpret authority as a rival form of power, because it impedes his ambition for a thoroughly politicized society. But authority is more nearly the opposite of power. It offers a standard of truth or morality that is indifferent and therefore often opposed to current desires and forces, standing in judgment over them. If God has revealed Himself to man, the progressive agenda may find itself seriously inconvenienced.

For this reason, religion is a source of deep anxiety to the liberal. He harps on its historical sins: Crusades, Inquisitions, witch burnings, wars. He never notices that the crimes of atheist regimes, in less than a century, have dwarfed those of all organized religions in recorded history. He sees Christianity's sporadic persecutions as being of its essence; he regards Communism's unbroken persecution as incidental to its potential for good. He warns of the "danger" posed by American fundamentalists (one of the most gentle and law-abiding segments of the population) and is unchastened by the results of "peace" in Vietnam and Cambodia.