Joyce Johnson Remembers Kerouac

Jack Kerouac's On the Road was published 54 years ago in September, 1957. Joyce Johnson remembers. Excerpts:

     Who could have predicted that an essentially plotless novel about
     the relationship between two rootless young men who seemed
     constitutionally unable to settle down was about to kick off a
     culture war that is still being fought to this day? [. . .]

     In Death of a Salesman, Willy Loman sacrificed his life to a
     fruitless pursuit of the American dream; Kerouac's two protagonists
     acted as if that dream was of no importance. On the Road followed
     Sal and Dean through three years of frenetic transcontinental
     movement in the late 1940s. Their main goal in life was to "know
     time," which they could achieve by packing as much intensity as
     possible into each moment. [. . .]

     The two ideas, beat and beatnik — one substantive and
     life-expanding, the other superficial and hedonistic – helped shape
     the counterculture of the '60s and to this day are confused with
     each other, not only by Kerouac's detractors but even by some of
     his most ardent fans. [. . .]

     Beatniks were passe from the start, but On the Road has never gone
     without readers, though it took decades to lose its outlaw status.
     Only recently was it admitted — cautiously — to the literary canon.
     (The Modern Library has named it one of the 100 best
     English-language novels of the 20th century.) Fifty years after On
     the Road was first published, Kerouac's voice still calls out: Look
     around you, stay open, question the roles society has thrust upon
     you, don't give up the search for connection and meaning. In this
     bleak new doom-haunted century, those imperatives again sound
     urgent and subversive — and necessary.

Anthony Daniel's (Theodore Dalrymple's) assessment in Another Side of Paradise is rather less
positive:

     He led a tormented life, and I cannot help but feel sadness for a
     would-be rebel who spent most of his life, as did Kerouac, living
     at home with his mother. He also drank himself to a horrible death.
     But while it is true that most great writers were tormented souls,
     it does not follow that most tormented souls were great writers. To
     call Kerouac's writing mediocre is to do it too much honor: its
     significance is sociological rather than literary. The fact that
     his work is now being subjected to near-biblical levels of
     reverential scholarship is a sign of very debased literary and
     academic standards.

     I have seen some of the most mediocre minds of my generation
     destroyed by too great an interest in the Beats.

The last line of this quotation parodies the first line of Allen Ginsberg's Howl:

     I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
     starving hysterical naked . . . .

Jkerouacmom And as for Kerouac's "living at home with his mother," which Dalrymple intends as a slight, the truth is rather that Kerouac's mother lived with him, and with him and Stella Sampas after the two were married on 18 November 1966. (See Gerald Nicosia, Memory Babe, p. 670 ff.)  Kerouac was ever the dutiful son, a conservative trait that Dalrymple  misses.

The Great Obama Catharsis

A brilliant article by Victor Davis Hanson. Makes the case that we are really better off with Obama than we would have been with McCain.  Punning on 'catharsis,' a witty commenter writes, "We have met the enema, and his name is Obama."  Obama will precipitate a Huge Dump which will void us of the crap of leftism.

I now think I was wrong to criticize those conservatives who refused to vote for the wishy-washy pseudo-conservative McCain, thereby aiding Obama.  I overlooked the latter's aperient function.  (Bill Tingley, if you are still reading this blog, you were right.)

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Midnight and Other Hours of the Day

Benny Goodman, One O'Clock Jump
Lovin' Spoonful, Six O'Clock 
Maria Muldaur, Midnight at the Oasis
Eric Clapton, After Midnight
Thelonious Monk, Round Midnight
Jack Kerouac, Old Angel Midnight
Headswim, Old Angel Midnight
Patsy Cline, Walkin' After Midnight
Rolling Stones, Midnight Gambler
Allman Bros., Midnight Rambler
B. B. King, Stevie Ray Vaughn and Etta James,  Midnight Hour

The Vogues, Five O'Clock World
Blind Boy Fuller, Ten O'Clock Peeper
Eric Clapton and B. B. King, Three O'Clock Blues
Skip James, Four O'Clock Blues
The Gods, Eight O'Clock in the Morning

An Ontological Argument for Truth and the Correspondence Theory

A Pakistani correspondent e-mails:

Regarding your recent post An Ontological Argument for Objective Reality, do you think your argument demonstrates that the correspondence theory of truth is inherent to our notion of objective reality, because we cannot meaningfully, without contradiction, even talk about truth in the absence of objective reality? If so, your argument also settles the case in favor of correspondence theory of truth.

Excellent question.  I define 'ontological argument' in the earlier post, and note that 'ontological argument' and 'ontological argument for the existence of God' are not to be confused.  Here is an ontological argument for the existence of at least one truth:

We have  the concept true proposition. This concept is either instantiated, or it is not. If it is not instantiated, then it is true that it is not instantiated, which implies that the concept true proposition is  instantiated. If, on the other hand, the concept in question is instantiated, then of course it is instantiated. Therefore, necessarily, the concept true proposition is instantiated, and there necessarily exists at least one truth, namely, the truth that the concept true proposition is instantiated.

This is a sound ontological argument for the existence of at least one truth using only the concept true proposition, the law of excluded middle, and the unproblematic principle that, for any proposition p, p entails that p is true. By 'proposition' here I simply mean whatever can be appropriately characterized as either true or false. That there are propositions in this innocuous sense cannot be reasonably denied.

Does it follow that the correspondence theory of truth is true?  I don't think so.  What the above argument shows is that there are truths.  A truth is a true proposition, or, more generally, a true truth-bearer.  But a truth-bearer is not the same as a truth-maker.  A correspondence theory of truth, however, requires truth-makers.  And so there is a logical gap between

1. There are truths

and

2. There are truth-makers of these truths.

My ontological argument establishes (1).  It establishes the existence, indeed the necessity, of at least one truth 'outside the mind.'  But truths outside the mind might just be true Fregean propositions.  Such items are truth-bearers but not truth-makers.  So (2) does not straightaway follow from (1).

To get to (2), we need to introduce a truth-maker principle as supplementary premise. Discussions of truth-maker principles can be found in the Truth category.

A Pascalian Pointer to Our Fallenness

Edward T. Oakes in a fine article quotes Pascal:

The greatness of man is so evident that it is even proved by his wretchedness. For what in animals is called nature we call wretchedness in man; by which we recognize that, his nature now being like that of animals, he has fallen from a better nature which once was his. For who is unhappy at not being a king except a deposed king? Who is unhappy at having only one mouth? And who is not unhappy at having only one eye? Probably no one ever ventured to mourn at not having three eyes; but anyone would be inconsolable at having none.

Yes indeed, man is wretched and only man is wretched. Man's wretchedness is 'structural': man qua man is wretched. Wretched are not merely the sick, the unloved, and the destitute; all of us are wretched, even those of us who count as well off. Some of us are aware of this, our condition, the rest hide it from themselves by losing themselves in what Pascal calls divertissement, diversion. We are as if fallen from a higher state, our true and rightful state, into a lower one, and the sense of wretchedness is an indicator of our having fallen. We are in a dire state from which we need salvation but are incapable of saving ourselves by our own efforts, whether individual or collective.

Well, suppose you don't accept a word of this. And suppose you don't lapse into nihilism either. What option is left? The illusions of the Left and the notion of the perfectibility of man by his own doing? Then I recommend this passage from Reinhold Niebuhr also quoted by Oakes:

The utopian illusions and sentimental aberrations of modern liberal culture are really all derived from the basic error of negating the fact of original sin. This error . . . continually betrays modern men to equate the goodness of men with the virtue of their various schemes for social justice and international peace. When these schemes fail of realization or are realized only after tragic conflicts, modern men either turn from utopianism to disillusionment and despair, or they seek to place the onus of their failure upon some particular social group, . . . [which is why] both modern liberalism and modern Marxism are always facing the alternatives of moral futility or moral fanaticism. Liberalism in its pure form [that is, pacifism] usually succumbs to the peril of futility. It will not act against evil until it is able to find a vantage point of guiltlessness from which to operate. This means that it cannot act at all. Sometimes it imagines that this inaction is the guiltlessness for which it has been seeking. A minority of liberals and most of the Marxists solve the problem by assuming that they have found a position of guiltlessness in action. Thereby they are betrayed into the error of fanaticism.

I refuse to lapse into nihilism and I refuse to be suckered by the illusions of the Left, which illusions have been amply refuted by the horrors of the 20th century. That is why I take original sin seriously. But I reject Biblical literalism with its tale of a first man and a first woman in a garden. And of course I reject the idea that I am guilty because of what some other people did. So this leaves me with the task of articulating the doctrine of original sin/original ignorance in a way that is philosophically respectable.

Original Sin in a Darwinian World

Our old friend Jeff Hodges of Gypsy Scholar e-mails: 

I liked the interesting argument that the consequences of belief and nonbelief in original sin are both bad and thus evidence of our fallen natures. But I do wonder what either original sin or fallenness mean in a Darwinian world . . .

Jeff has posed an excellent question which I must try to answer.

1. I begin with what it can't mean.  It cannot mean that our present fallen condition is one we inherited from Adam and Eve if these names refer to the original parents of the human race.  And this for two reasons.

A. The first is that nothing imputable to a person, nothing for which he is morally responsible, can be inherited.  For what I inherit I receive ab extra by causal mechanisms not in my control.  (It doesn't matter whether these mechanisms are deterministic or merely probabilistic.)  That which is imputable to me, however, is only that which I freely bring about.  It is a clear deliverance of our ordinary moral sense that a person is morally responsible only for what he does and leaves undone, not for what others do or leave undone.  This deliverance is surely more credible than any theory that entails its negation.  So one cannot inherit sinfulness, guilt, or desert of punishment.  Therefore the actual sins of past persons cannot induce in me a state of sinfulness or guilt or desert of punishment.  And that includes the actual sins of our first parents if there were any.

This amounts to a denial of originated original sin.  It does not amount to a denial of originating original sin.  The distinction is explained in greater detail here.  So there can still be original sin even if sinfulness, guilt, and desert of punishment cannot be inherited.

As I said elsewhere, we must distinguish between the putative fact of original sin and the various theories one can have of it.  Refuting a particular theory does not amount to refuting the fact.

B. The second reason is that there were in actual historical fact no original parents of the human race who came into existence wthout animal progenitors.  We know this from evolutionary biology which is more credible — more worthy of belief — than the stories of Genesis interpreted literally.  In any conflict between the Bible so interpreted and natural science, the latter will win — every time.  So if one takes both Bible and science seriously, the Bible must be read in such a way that it does not conflict with our best science.

2. To take this whole original sin problematic seriously one must of course assume that in some sense or other 'Man is a fallen being.'   I warmly recommend the study of history to those who  adhere to such delusions of the Left as that of human perfectibility or the inherent goodness of humanity.  Once you disembarrass yourself of those illusions you will be open to something like human fallenness or Kant's radical evil.  I am not saying that the horrors of history by themselves entail man's fallenness.  Our fallenness is certainly not a plain empirical fact as G. K. Chesterton and others have foolishly and tendentiously suggested.  Chesterton's "plain as potatoes" remark was silly bluster.  It is rather that a doctrine of the fall is reasonably introuduced, by a sort of inference to the best explanation, to account for man's universal wretchedness and inability to substantially improve his lot. The details of the inferential move from what could count as plain facts to a doctrine of a fall is not my present topic. 

3. Now to Jeff's question.  If the Genesis stories cannot be read as literally true accounts of actual historical facts, if we accept the findings and theories of evolutionary biology as regards the genesis of human animals, then what can human fallenness mean? There are various possibilities.  I will mention just one, which derives from Kant. 

What we need is a theory that allows us to embrace all of the following propositions without contradicting any deliverance of natural science or any deliverance of our ordinary sound moral sense:

a. There is a universal propensity to moral evil in human beings which is radical in that it is at the root of every specific act of wrong-doing.
b. This propensity to evil is the best explanation of the fathomless horrors of the human condition.
c. The radical propensity to moral evil is innate in that it not acquired at any time in a moral agent's life, but is present at every time precisely as the predisposition to specific evil acts.
d. The propensity is imputable. 
e. The propensity is not inherited. 
f.  Imputable actions and states are free and unconditioned.

Here is a quick and dirty sketch of Kant's theory, a theory which allows one to affirm each of the six propositions above.

Man enjoys dual citzenship.  As a physical being, and thus as an animal, he he is a member of the  phenomenal world, the world of space-time-matter.  In this realm determinism reigns: everything that happens is necessitated by the laws of nature plus the initial conditions.  But man knows himself to be morally responsible, and so knows himself to be libertarianly free.  Since everything phenomenal is determined, and nothing free, man as moral agent is a noumenal being who 'stands apart from the causal nexus.'

Kant sees with blinding clarity that nothing imputable to an agent can be caused by factors external to the agent: only that which the agent does or leaves undone freely and by his own agency is imputable to the agent.  It follows that sinfulness, guilt, and desert of punishment cannot be inherited:  there is no originated original sin. For what is inherited is caused to be by factors external to the agent.  So (e) is true.  But the predisposition to moral evil is nonetheless innate in the sense that it is not conditioned by events in time.  It is logically prior to every action of the agent in the time-order.

How is the predisposition imputable?  It is imputable because it is the result of a free noumenal choice.  And so there is originating original sin.  Each of us by an atemporal noumenal choice is the origin of the radical evil which is at the root of each specific evil act. So (d) is true.

Kant's theory has its problems which I have no desire to paper over.  But it does provide an answer to Jeff's question.  His question, in effect, was what original sin or human fallenness could mean if Darwinism is true. Kant's theory counts as an answer to that question.  For on Kant's theory there is no need to contradict evolutionary biology by positing two original parents of the human race, nor any need to accept the notion that moral qualities such as guilt are biologically transmissible, or the morally unacceptable notion that such qualities are in any way (biologically, socio-culturally) inheritable. 

Life’s Optics Versus Thought’s Synoptics

One cannot live without being onesided, without choosing, preferring, favoring oneself and one's own, without staking out and defending one's bit of ground.  One cannot live without being onesided, but one cannot be much of a philosopher if one is.  The philosopher's optics are a synoptics, but life's optics are perspectival.

And so philosophy is enlivened at the approach of decline, death, and doom.  The owl of Minerva spreads its wings at dusk. 

Study Everything, Join Nothing

Do I live up to this admonition? Or am I posturing? Is my posture perhaps a slouch towards hypocrisy?

Well, it depends on how broadly one takes 'join.' A while back, I joined a neighbor and some of his friends in helping him move furniture. Reasonably construed, the motto does not rule out that sort of thing. And being a fair and balanced guy, as everybody knows, I recently joined the Conservative Book Club to balance out my long-standing membership in the left-leaning and sex-saturated Quality Paperback Book Club. (It would be interesting to compare these two 'clubs' in respect of their target memberships — but that's another post.)

And what if I join you for lunch, or join in a discussion in a chat room? A good while ago, the anonyblogger who ran The Will to Blog, but then lost the will to blog and deleted his site, opined that my motto ought to preclude my being a conservative. But surely one does not join a set of beliefs. One joins a political party, an organization, a church, and the like. Our anonyblogger might have been making the mistake of thinking that an independent thinker cannot arrive at any conclusions, for, if he did, then he would be joining something, and lose his independence. 

In the context of Paul Brunton's thought, "Study everything, join nothing" means that one ought to beware of institutions and organizations with their tendency toward self-corruption and the corruption of their members. (The Catholic Church is a good recent example.) "Join nothing" means avoid group-think; avoid associations which will limit one's ability to think critically and independently; be your own man or woman; draw your identity from your own resources, and not from group membership. Be an individual, and not in the manner of those who want to be treated as individuals but expect to gain special privileges from membership in certain 'oppressed' or 'victimized' or 'disadvantaged' groups.

Be Emersonian, as Brunton was Emersonian:

"Who so would be a man must be a nonconformist."

"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind."

"Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one one of its members."

"We must go alone."

"But your isolation must not be mechanical, but spiritual, that is, must be elevation."

(All from Emerson's essay, "Self-Reliance.")

In Brunton's mouth, the injunction means: study all the religions and political parties, but don't join any of them, on pain of losing one's independence.

Note finally, that the motto is mine (by acceptance not by origin); it does to follow that it ought to be yours.

An Ontological Argument for Objective Reality

The proprietor of Beyond Necessity has a post on objective reality which is directed against some New Age mumbo-jumbo.  One of the commenters remarks, "Your argument for the existence of objective reality sounds very much like the ontological argument for God, and about as plausible."  Ed, the proprietor, responds, ". . . the argument in no way resembles the logical form of the ontological argument."

What I will now do is present a sound ontological argument for objective reality.  In so doing I will show that both proprietor and commenter are wrong. The latter because the argument is plausible; the former because it is ontological in form.

Definition.  An ontological argument from mere concepts (aus lauter Begriffen, in Kant's famous phrase) is a ratiocinative procedure whereby the being instantiated  of a concept is proven by sheer analysis of the concept.  It is thus an argument in which one attempts to infer the existence of X from the concept X.  For example, the existence of God from the concept God; the existence of a golden mountain from the concept golden mountain; the existence of objective reality from the concept objective reality. Concepts are mental items by definition.  So a sound ontological argument will take us from thought to (extramental) being, in a manner to please Parmenides.

To mention a concept I use italics.  Thus a word in italics refers to a concept. 

1. We have and understand the concept the (total) way things are. It doesn't matter how we acquired this concept.  We have it and we understand it.  The way things are includes every fact, every obtaining state of affairs.  So the way things are is equivalent to the world in Wittgenstein's sense: "Die Welt ist die Gesamtheit der Tatsachen, nicht der Dinge."  (Tractatus 1.1) It is also equivalent to objective reality.

2. Now let us entertain the possibility that nothing answers to the concept the way things are, that the concept is not instantiated.  We are thus to entertain the possibility that there is the concept in our minds but nothing to which it applies.  We can formulate this possibility using the proposition *There is no objective reality.*  Call this proposition P.

3. Could P be true?  If P is true, then P is true in objective reality: that is just what 'true' means.  So if P is true, then it is true in objective reality that there is no objective reality.  This is a contradiction.  So we must conclude that If P is true, then P is false.  And if P is false, then of course P is false.  So, necessarily, P is false, which implies that its negation is not only true but necessarily true: it is necessarily true that there is objective reality. So by sheer analysis of the concept objective reality one can validly infer that there is objective reality.  Here then is a case in which an ontological argument from mere concepts is sound.

4.  Have I pulled a fast one?  Not as far as I can see.  I have merely analyzed the concept objective reality, teasing out an implication of the claim that the concept is not instantiated. 

5. Response to the commenter.  The commenter is right to appreciate that the above sort of reasoning is ontological and thus similar to the God proof found in Descartes' Meditation V and criticized famously by Kant.  He is wrong, however, to think that the former reasoning is cogent if and only if the latter is.

6. Response to the proprietor.  The proprietor is right, as against the commenter, when it comes to the cogency of the above sort of reasoning.  But the commenter is wrong to fail to see that it is ontological reasoning in a clear sense of that term.  It is a priori reasoning from thought to being, from concept to existence.

Companion post: Four Kinds of Ontological Argument