Constituent Ontology and the Problem of Change: Can Relational Ontology Do Better?


MetaphysicsConstituent ontologists would seem to have a serious problem accounting for accidental change.  Suppose an avocado goes from unripe to ripe over a two day period. That counts as an accidental change:  one and the same substance (the avocado) alters in respect of the accidental property of being unripe.  It has become different qualitatively while remaining the same numerically.

This is a problem for constituent ontologists if C-ontologists are committed to what Michael J. Loux calls "Constituent Essentialism."  ("What is Constituent Ontology?" Metaphysics: Aristotelian, Scholastic, Analytic, Ontos Verlag 2012, Novak et al. eds., p. 52) Undoubtedly, many of them are, if not all.  Constituent Essentialism  is the C-ontological analog of mereological essentialism.  We can put it like this:

Constituent Essentialism: A thing has each of its ontological parts necessarily.  This implies that a thing cannot gain or lose an ontological part without ceasing  to be same
thing.

Mereological Essentialism: A thing has each of its commonsense parts necessarily. 
This implies that a thing cannot gain or lose a commonsense part without ceasing
to be the same thing.

To illustrate, suppose an ordinary particular (OP) such as our avocado is a bundle of compresent universals.  The universals are the ontological parts of the OP as a whole.  The first of the two principles entails that ordinary particulars cannot change.  For accidental (alterational as opposed to existential) change is change in respect of properties under preservation of numerical diachronic identity.  But preservation of identity is not possible on Constituent Essentialism.  The simple  bundle-of-universals theory is incompatible with the fact of change.  But of course there are other types of C-ontology.

I agree with Loux that Constituent Essentialism is a "framework principle" (p. 52) of C-ontology.  It cannot be abandoned without abandoning C-ontology.  If an item (of whatever category) has ontological parts at all, then it is difficult to see how it could fail to have each and all of these parts essentially.   And of course the fact of accidental change and what it entails, namely, persistence of the same thing over time,  cannot be denied.  So the 'argument from change' does seem to score against primitive versions of the bundle-of-universals theory.

I don't want to discuss whether more sophisticated C-ontological theories such as Hector Castaneda's Guise Theory  escape this objection.  I want to consider whether relational ontology does any better.  I  take relational ontology to imply that no item of any category has ontological parts.  Thus R-ontology implies that no type of particular has ontological parts.  A particular is just an unrepeatable.  My cat Max is a particular and so are each of his material parts, and their material parts.  If Max's blackness is an accident of him as substance, then this accident is a particular.  The Armstrongian state of affairs of Max's being black is a particular.  Mathematical sets are particulars.  Particulars need not be concrete.  Sets are abstract particulars in one sense of 'abstract.'  Tropes are abstract particulars in another sense of 'abstract.'  If an entity is not a particular, an unrepeatable, then it is a universal, a repeatable.

My question is whether we can explain real (as opposed to 'Cambridge') accidental change without positing particulars having ontological constituents.  I will argue that we cannot, and that therefore R-ontology is untenable.

Lukas Novak presents an argument to the conclusion that the fact of accidental change requires the positing of particulars that have ontological constituents.  Here is my take on Novak's argument:

Peter goes from being ignorant of the theorem of Pythagoras to being knowledgeable about it. This is  an accidental change: one and the same concrete particular, Peter,  has different properties at different times. Now a necessary condition of accidental change is that one and the same item have different properties at different times. But is it a sufficient condition? Suppose Peter is F at time t and not F at time t* (t* later than t). Suppose that F-ness is a universal but not a constituent of Peter and that Peter is F by exemplifying F-ness.  Universals so construed are transcendent in the sense that they are not denizens of the world of space and time. They belong in a realm apart and are related, if they are related, to spatiotemporal particulars by the external relation of exemplification.

It follows on these assumptions that if Peter undergoes real accidental change that Peter goes from exemplifying the transcendent universal F-ness at t to not exemplifying it at t*. That is: he stands in the exemplification relation to F-ness at t, but ceases so to stand to t*. But there has to be more to the change than this. For, as Novak points out, the change is in Peter. It is intrinsic to him and cannot consist merely in a change in a relation to a universal in a realm apart.  After all, transcendent universals do not undergo real change.  Any change in such a universal is 'merely Cambridge' as we say in the trade. In other words, the change in F-ness when it 'goes' from being exemplified by Peter to not being exemplified by Peter is not a real change in the universal but a merely relational change.  The real change in this situation must therefore be in or at Peter.  For a real, not merely Cambridge, change has taken place.

Thus it seems to Novak and to me that, even if there are transcendent universals and ordinary concrete particulars, we need another category of entity to account for accidental change, a category that that I will call that of property-exemplifications. (We could also call them accidents.  But we must not, pace Novak, call them tropes.)  Thus Peter's being cold at t is a property-exemplification and so is Peter's not being cold at t*. Peter's change in respect of temperature involves Peter as the diachronically persisting substratum of the change, the universal coldness, and two property-exemplifications, Peter's being cold at t and Peter's being not cold at t*.

These property-exemplifications, however, are particulars, not universals even though each has a universal as a constituent. This is a special case of what Armstrong calls the Victory of Particularity: the result of a particular exemplifying a universal is a particular. Moreover, these items have natures or essences: it is essential to Peter's being cold that it have coldness as a constituent. (Thus Constituent Essentialism holds for these items. ) Hence property- exemplifications are particulars, but not bare particulars. They are not bare because they have natures or essences.  Further, these property-exemplifications are abstract particulars in that they do not exhaust the whole concrete reality of Peter at a time.  Thus Peter is not merely cold at a time, but has other properties besides.

It seems that the argument shows that there have to be these abstract particulars — we could call them accidents instead of property-exemplifications — if we are to account for real accidental change.  But these partculars have constituents.  Peter's coldness, for example, has Peter and coldness as constituents.  It is a complex, not a simple.  (If it were a simple, there would be nothing about it to tie it necessarily to Peter.  Tropes are simples, so accidents are not tropes.)  So it seems to me that what Novak has provided us with is an argument for C-ontology, for the view that the members of at least one category of entity have ontological constituents.

Loux's argument notwithstanding, a version of C-ontology seems to be required if we are  to make sense of accidental change. 

But how are accidents such as Peter's coldness connected or tied — to avoid the word 'related' — to a substance such as Peter? 

First of all, an accident A of a substance S does not stand in an external relation to S — otherwise a Bradleyan regress arises.  (Exercise for the reader: prove it.)

Second, A is not identical to S.  Peter's coldness is not identical to Peter.  For there is more to Peter than his being cold.  So what we need is a tie or connection that is less intimate than identity but more intimate than an external relation.  The part-whole tie seems to fit the bill.  A proper part of a whole is not identical to the whole, but it is not externally related to it either inasmuch as wholes depend for their identity and existence on their parts.

Can we say that Peter's accidents are ontological parts of Peter?  No.  This would put the cart before the horse.  Peter's coldness is identity- and existence-dependent on Peter.  Peter is ontologically prior to his accidents.  No whole, however, is ontologically prior to its parts:  wholes are identity and existence-dependent on their parts.  So the accidents of a substance are not ontological parts of it.  But they have ontological parts.  Strangely enough, if A is an accident of substance S, then S is an ontological part of A.  Substances are ontological parts of their accidents!  Brentano came to a view like this.

More on Brentano later.  For now, my thesis is just that the fact of real accidental change requires the positing of particulars that have ontological constituents and that, in consequence, R-ontology is to be rejected. Constituent ontology vindicatus est.

When Praise is Out of Place

A thousand times you do the right thing and receive no praise. But the  one time you do the wrong thing you are harshly blamed. This is the  way it ought to be. Praise should be reserved for the supererogatory. To praise people for doing what it is their duty to do shows that moral decline has set in.  If memory serves, Kant makes this point somewhere in his vast corpus.

Dennis Prager once said that wives should praise their husbands for their fidelity.  I don't think so.  Being married entails certain moral requirements, and fidelity is one of them.  One should not be praised for doing what one morally must do;  one should be blamed for failing to do what one morally must do.

And yet we do feel inclined to praise people for doing the obligatory.

A related point has to do with expressing gratitude to someone for doing his job.  I took my wife in for a minor medical procedure this morning.  As we were leaving I thanked the nurse.  I would have been slightly annoyed had she said, "I'm just doing my job."  Was my thanking her out of place?  Maybe not.  Maybe my thanking was not for her doing her job, but for her doing it in a 'perky' and friendly way.

The Calvin Blocker Story



BlockerWhen I lived in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, I was within walking distance of the old Arabica coffee house on Coventry Road. The Coventry district was quite a scene in those days and there I met numerous interesting characters of the sort one   expects to find in coffee houses: would-be poets and novelists, pseudo-intellectual bullshitters of every stripe, and a wide range of chess players from patzers to masters. It was there that I became   acquainted with International Master Calvin Blocker. Observing a game of mine one day, he kibitzed, "You'd be lucky to be mated."

Here is his story.

Harvey Pekar talks about Coventry.

Cute Internet Chess Club Handles

I just beat a guy in a five-minute game who rejoices under the handle 'noblitz-oblige.' I guess that counts as an inaptronym given that he was playing blitz. 

3:22 PM.  Just beat 'keresmatic' whose play was neither reminsicent of Paul Keres nor  charismatic.  Cute handle, though.

I've prepared a line to use next time I hike with James L., a fanatical hiker of near master strength in chess.  Should I lag, I will complain of feeling weaker than f7.

Courage and Fearlessness

Courage is not fearlessness.  The courageous feel fear, but master it, unlike the cowardly who are mastered by it.  To feel no fear in any of life's situations is to fail to perceive real dangers.  The fearless are foolish.  It is therefore inept to praise the courageous as fearless: their virtue, which one presumably intends to praise, consists in the mastery of  precisely that the absence of which would render them foolish.

Saturday Night at the Oldies: Letters and the Like

Boxtops, 1967, The Letter

R. B. Greaves,  Take a Letter, Maria

Ketty Lester, 1962, Love Letters, with images from David Lynch's Blue Velvet. If you think the Lynch twist spoils a beautiful song, here it is straight.  Often covered, never surpassed.  E.P.'s version.

Elvis Presley, 1962, Return to Sender

Benny Goodman, Airmail Special

The Marvelettes, 1961, Please, Mr. Postman.  The summer of '69 found me delivering mail out of the Vermont Avenue Station, Hollywood 29.  One day two girls came up to me and started singing this song.  Something this U. S. Male won't forget.

Roosevelt Sykes, Mailbox Blues

Bob Dylan, Take a Message to Mary

Donovan, Epistle to Dippy

Don Gibson, The Last Letter

Jean Shepard and Ferlin Husky, A Dear John Letter

Beatles, P. S. I Love You

Paul McCartney, I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter 

Meditation: How Long and What to Expect

A student from Northern Ireland writes,


I've recently been contemplating practising meditation. I decided to look up what you had to say on the subject, and I was happy to discover the "how to meditate" post. I was just wondering though, how long should a person meditate, and what should a first timer like myself expect to think or feel during the first few meditations?

How long? Between 15 and 30 minutes at first, working up gradually to an hour or more. What to expect?  Not much at first.  Mind control is extremely difficult and our minds are mostly out of control serving up an endless parade of  pointless memories, useless worries, and negative thoughts of all sorts.  In the beginning meditation is mostly hard work.  So you can expect to work hard at first for meager results.   
 
At a deeper level, expectation and striving to accomplish something are out of place.  Meditation is an interior listening that can occur only when the discursive mind with its thoughts, judgements, intentions, expectations, and the like has been silenced.  Meditation is not an inner discourse but an inner listening. 
 
Of course, there is a bit of a paradox here: at first one must intend resolutely to take up this practice, one must work at it every morning with no exceptions, one must strive to quiet the mind — but all in quest of an effortless abiding in mental quiet wherein there is no intending, working, or striving.
 
Logic greatly aids, though  is not necessary for, disciplined thinking.  Meditation greatly aids, though is not necessary for, disciplined non-thinking.
 
Meditation is a battle against the mind's centrifugal tendency.  In virtue of its intentionality, mind is ever in flight from its center, so much so that some have denied that there is a center or a self.  The aim of meditation is centering.  To switch metaphors, the aim is to swim upstream to the thought-free source of thoughts.  Compare Emerson: "Man is a stream whose source is hidden."  Arrival at that hidden source is the ultimate goal of meditation.
 
 
Swimming upstream against a powerful current is not easy and for some impossible. So this is a good metaphor of the difficulty of meditation.  The more extroverted you are, the more difficult it will be. Why engage in this hard work?  Either you sense that your surface self has a depth dimension that calls to you or you don't. If you do, then this is the way to explore it. 
 
 
Meditation reduced to three steps: 

First, drive out all useless thoughts.  Then get rid of all useful but worldly thoughts.  Finally, achieve the cessation of all thoughts, including spiritual ones.  Now you are at the threshhold of meditation proper.  Unfortunately, a lifetime of work may not suffice to complete even these baby steps.  You may not even make it to the threshhold.  But if you can achieve even the first step, you will have done yourself a world of good.

The idea behind Step One is to cultivate the ability to suppress, at will, every useless, negative, weakening thought as soon as it arises.  Not easy!

Meditation won't bear fruits unless one lives in a way that is compatible with it and its goals.  So a certain amount of withdrawal from the world is needed.  One needs to 'unplug.'

The attainment of mental quiet is a very high and choice-worthy goal of human striving.  Anything that scatters or dis-tracts (literally: pulls apart) the mind makes it impossible to attain mental quiet as well as such lower attainments as ordinary concentration.  Now the mass media have the tendency to scatter and distract.  Therefore, if you value the attainment of mental quiet and such cognate states as tranquillitas animi, ataraxia, peace of mind, samadhi, concentration, 'personal presence,' etc., then you are well-advised to limit consumption of media dreck and cultivate the disciplines that lead to these states.

Why We Need California

John Stossel:

Thanks, California! Thanks for your monstrous spending and absurd regulatory overreach! America needs you. We need Connecticut and Illinois, too! We need you the way we needed the Soviet Union, as models of failure, to warn us what happens if we believe those who say, "Government can."

Moving to California was once the dream for many Americans. Its population grew at almost triple the national average — until 1990. Then big government, in the form of endless regulation and taxes, killed much of the dream. In the last decade, 2 million people left California.

[. . .]

Dan Mitchell of the Cato Institute summed up California's situation for me. "The politicians want to get re-elected, and the state government workers want to get as much as they can before the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. California is Greece — the Greece of America."

I hope all Americans watch and learn from states like California. But if we don't, and if people keep electing big-government politicians, at least Americans, unlike the Greeks, can hop around between 50 states, trying to stay one step ahead of bad laws and ruin.

Reification and Hypostatization

My tendency has long been to use 'reification' and 'hypostatization' interchangeably.  But a remark by E. J. Lowe has caused me to see the error of my ways.  He writes, "Reification is not the same as hypostatisation, but is merely the acknowledgement of some putative entity's real existence." ("Essence and Ontology," in Novak et al. eds, Metaphysics: Aristotelian, Analytic, Scholastic, Ontos Verlag, 2012, p. 95) I agree with the first half of Lowe's sentence, but not the second. 

Lowe's is  a good distinction and I take it on board.  I will explain it in my own way.  Something can be real without being a substance, without being an entity logically capable of independent existence.  An accident, for example, is real but is not a substance.  'Real'  from L. res, rei.  Same goes for the form of a hylomorphic compound.  A statue is a substance but its form, though real, is not.  The smile on a face and the bulge in a carpet are both real but incapable of independent existence.  So reification is not the same as hypostatization.  To consider or treat x as real is not thereby to consider or treat x as a substance. 

Lowe seems to ignore that 'reification' and 'hypostatization' name logico-philosophical fallacies, where a fallacy is a typical mistake in reasoning, one that occurs often enough and is seductive enough to be given a label.    On this point I diverge from him.  For me, reification is the illict imputation of ontological status to something that does not have such status.  For example, to treat 'nothing' as a name for something is to reify nothing.  If I say that nothing is in the drawer I am not naming something that is in the drawer.  Nothing is precisely no thing.  As I see it, reification is not acknowledgment of real existence, but an illict imputation of real existence to something that lacks it.  I do not reify the bulge in a carpet when I acknowledge its reality.

Or consider the internal relation being the same color as.  If two balls are (the same shade of) red, then they stand in this relation to each other.  But this relation is an "ontological free lunch" not "an addition to being" to borrow some phaseology from David Armstrong.  Internal relations have no ontological status.  They reduce to their monadic foundations.  The putatively relational fact Rab reduces to the conjunction of two monadic facts: Fa & Fb.  To bring it about that two balls are the same color as each other it suffices that I paint them both red (or blue, etc.)  I needn't do anything else.  If this is right, then to treat internal relations as real is to commit the fallacy of reification.  Presumably someone who reifies internal relations will not be tempted to hypostatize them.

To treat external relations as real, however, is not to reify them.  On my use of terms, one cannot reify what is already real, any more than one can politicize what is already political.  To bring it about that two red balls are two feet from each other, it does not suffice that I create two red balls: I must place them two feet from each other. The relation of being two feet from is therefore real, though presumably not a substance.

To hypostatize is is to treat as a substance what is not a substance.  So the relation I just mentioned would be hypostatized were one to consider it as an entity capable of existing even if it didn't relate anything.  Liberals who blame society for crime are often guilty of  the fallacy of hypostatization. Society, though real, is not a substance, let alone an agent to which blame can be imputed.

If I am right then this is mistaken:


HypostatizationFirst, I have given good reasons for distinguishing the two terms.  Second, the mistake of treating what is abstract as material  is not the same as reification or hypostatization.  For example, if someone were to regard the null set as a material thing, he would be making a mistake, but he would not be reifying or hypostatizing the the null set unless there were no  null set. 

Or consider the proposition expressed by 'Snow is white' and 'Schnee ist weiss.'  This proposition is an abstact object.  If one were to regardit as a material thing one would be making a mistake, but one would not be reifying it because it is already real.  Nor would one be hypostatizing it since (arguably) it exists independently.

Joe Biden on Shotguns

Joe Biden is a contemptible clown — did you watch the Veep debates? — but in this video he says something that is approximately true.  In the wake of natural disaster or social unrest you are better off with a shotgun than with a semi-automatic rifle such as an AR-15, advises Joe.  Well, when it comes to home defense, the weapon of choice is the 12-gauge shotgun loaded with 00 (double-aught) buckshot.  This is what ex-cops and others in the know tell me. And as the good old boy proprietor of a gun shop once explained to me, "Buckshot has the power to separate the soul from the body."  If that isn't a reason to convince a metaphysician, what would be?

Uncle Joe was making sense for a change: at close range in the heat of battle it is easier to take out a target with a shotgun than with a rifle.  And then there is the issue of penetration.  The .223 round of the AR-15 could  penetrate your wooden door and end up in your neighbor's dog — or worse.   You don't want that.  Primum non nocere.   The nasty buckshot won't travel as far.  Or so I have been told.  But you might want to look into the 'penetration' debate for yourself.

Uncle Joe fails to mention, however, that semi-auto rifles are better than shotguns when it comes to defending life, liberty, and property in a situation like that faced by the Korean shopkeepers during the L. A. riots.

So get yourself one of each.  While supplies last and it's still legal.  (It goes without saying that no one should acquire one of these weapons, load it, and stick it under the bed.  You must get some instruction, practice regularly, and inform yourself about the law.)

Garrigou-Lagrange on Thomas on the Divine Persons as Subsistent Relations

What follows is the whole of Chapter 16 of Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange's Reality: A Synthesis of Thomistic Thought.  My critical comments are in blue.

Chapter 16: The Divine Persons

Person in general is a being which has intelligence and freedom. Its classic definition was given by Boethius: Person is an individual subject with an intellectual nature. [548] Hence person, generally, is a hypostasis or a suppositum, and, specifically, a substance endowed with intelligence. [549] Further, since person signifies substance in its most perfect form, it can be found in God, if it be stripped of the imperfect mode which it has in created persons. Thus made perfect, it can be used analogically of God, analogically, but still in its proper sense, in a mode that is transcendent and pre-eminent. Further, since revelation gives us two personal names, that is, the Father and the Son, the name of the third person, of the Holy Spirit, must also be a personal name. Besides, the New Testament, in many texts, represents the Holy Spirit as a person. [550].

Now, since there are three persons in God, they can be distinct one from the other only by the three relations which are mutually opposed (paternity, and filiation, and passive spiration): because, as has been said, all else in God is identical.

Comment: The persons are distinct, numerically distinct.  And they are really distinct: distinct in reality, not merely relative to our thought.  What makes the persons distinct given that each is God and there is only one God?  What is the principium individuationis within the Godhead?  The relations between them. Thus the Father is distinct from the Son because the Father stands in the paternity relation to the Son but not vice versa.  It is difficult to see, however, how a relation between x and y can constitute the numerical difference between x and y.  I should think that the numerical difference between x and y is a logically prior condition of their standing in any relation.  So I am already having difficulty following the Thomist account. 

These real relations, since they are subsistent (not accidental): and are, on the other hand, incommunicable (being opposed): can constitute the divine persons. In these subsistent relations we find the two characteristics of person: substantiality and incommunicability.

Comment:  If the relations were accidental, i.e., accidents, then they would be dependent in their being on something else, and the objection I just made would hold.  So they are said to be subsistent, i.e., substances in their own right.  And since they are 'incommunicable,' they have two characteristics of persons.  The problem, however, is to understand how the relata of the relations (of paternity, filiality, etc.)  can be (identical to) the relations.  Paternity and filiality are different relations.  So if the Father = paternity, and the Son = filiality, then it is easy to see how the Father and the Son are distinct. But what is difficult if not  impossible to understand is how the Father could be identical to paternity and the Son to filiality.

A divine person, then, according to St. Thomas and his school, is a divine relation as subsistent. [551] Elsewhere the saint gives the following definition: [552] A divine person is nothing else than a relationally distinct reality, subsistent in the divine essence.

These definitions explain why there are in God, speaking properly, not metaphorically, three persons, three intellectual and free subjects, though these three have the same identical nature, though they understand by one and the same intellective act, though they love one another by one and the same
essential act, and though they freely love creatures by one and the same free act of love.

Comment:  So the Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father by the same act of loving.  But acts are individuated by their objects.  So loving the Father is a different act than loving the Son.  It cannot be the same act on pain of incoherence.  But Aquinas says that they love by the same act.  He has to say this because he cannot admit that there are three separate unities of consciousness in the Godhead.  For this would entail that there are three Gods.

Hence, while we say: The Father is God, the Son is God, the Holy Spirit is God, we also say: The Father is not the Son, and the Holy Spirit is not the Father, and the Holy Spirit is not the Son. In this sentence the verb "is" expresses real identity between persons and nature, and the negation "is not" expresses the real distinction of the persons from each other.

Comment:  This is contradictory as I have explained many times before, assuming that 'nature' refers to an individual existing nature.  If the 'is' is taken to be the 'is' of identity, logical inconsistency is unavoidable.  If F = G and S = G. then F = S, by the symmetry and transitivity of identity.    You cannot consistently with that go on to say that it is not the case that F = S.

These three opposed relations, then, paternity, filiation, and passive spiration, belong to related and incommunicable personalities. Thus there cannot be in God many Fathers, but one only. Paternity makes the divine nature incommunicable as Father, though that divine nature can still be communicated to two other persons. To illustrate. When you are constructing a triangle, the first angle, as first, renders the entire surface incommunicable, though that same surface will still be communicated to the other two angles; and the first angle will communicate that surface to them without communicating itself, while none of the three is opposed to the surface which they have in common.

Comment: Garrigou-Lagrange is fudging now.  He says that the opposed relations belong to related personalities.  This is not what he said before.  Before he said that the persons just are subsistent relations.  Well, which is it?  Are the relations identical to persons, or do the relations belong to persons?  This fudge is to be expected since the doctrine attempts to articulate discursively a reality that lies beyond the discursive intellect, a reality that is mystical.

Here appears the profundity of Cajetan's [553] remark: the divine reality, as it is in itself, is not something purely absolute (signified by the word "nature") nor something purely relative (signified by the name "person"): but something transcending both, something which contains formally and eminently [554] that which corresponds to the concepts of absolute and relative, of absolute nature and relative person. Further, the distinction between nature and the persons is not a real distinction, but a mental distinction (virtual and minor): whereas the distinction between the persons is real, by reason of opposition. On this last point theologians generally agree with Thomists.

Comment:  Cajetan's remark is profound.  The divine reality must be absolute, not relative.  But it must also in some sense be personal since the reality of persons surpasses that of every other category of entity.  But persons are relative to each other.  So the divine reality must in some sense be multi-personal and yet absolute. As I see it, theology issues in 'necessary makeshifts' that try to articulate in coherent discursive terms a trans-discursive reality.  So it is no surprise that every  doctrine of the Trinity issues in problems, questions, and outright inconsistencies.  The doctrines point beyond themselves to a reality that cannot be grasped in discursive terms.

This is why doctrinal fights are absurd.  Some doctrines are better than others, but in the end all are untenable.  The divine reality is not a doctrine!

Delicious Obscurity

We who are obscure ought to be grateful for it.  It is wonderful to be able to walk down the street and be taken, and left, for an average schlep.  A little recognition from a few high-quality individuals is all one needs.  Fame can be a curse.   The unhinged Mark David Chapman, animated by Holden Caulfield's animus against phoniness, decided that John Lennon was a phony, and so had to be shot.

The value of fame may also be inferred from the moral and intellectual quality of those who confer it.

The mad pursuit of empty celebrity by so many in our society shows their and its spiritual vacuity.

UPDATE:  By this metric, however, I count as famous.  Well, we live in an age of low standards.