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.

De Trinitate: The Statue/Lump Analogy and the ‘Is’ of Composition

Thanks to Bill Clinton, it is now widely appreciated that much rides on what the meaning of ‘is’ is. Time was, when only philosophers were aware of this. The fact that Clinton made the point to save his hide rather than to advance philosophical logic is irrelevant.  Credit where credit is due.  But enough joking around.

In our recent Trinitarian explorations we have thus far discussed the ‘is’ of identity and the ‘is’ of predication. We saw that ‘The Father is God’ could be construed as

1. The Father is identical to God

or as

2. The Father is divine.

Both construals left us with logical trouble. If each of the Persons is identical to God, and there is exactly one God, then (given the transitivity and symmetry of identity) there is exactly one Person.  On the other hand, if each of the Persons is divine, where ‘is’ is the 'is' of predication,  then there are three Gods and tri-theism is the upshot. Either way, we end up contradicting a central Trinitarian tenet.

We explored the mereological way out and we found it wanting, or at least I found it wanting.  God is not a whole whose proper parts are the Persons.

But there is also the ‘is’ of composition as when we say, ‘This countertop is marble,’ or in my house, ‘This countertop is faux marble.’ ‘Is’ here is elliptical for ‘is composed of.’ Compare: ‘That jacket is leather,’ and ‘This beverage is whisky.’ To say that a jacket is leather is not to say that it is identical to leather – otherwise it would be an extremely large jacket – or that it has leather as a property: leather is not a property. A jacket is leather by being made out of leather.

Suppose you have a statue S made out for some lump L of material, whether marble, bronze, clay, or whatever. How is S related to L? It seems clear that L can exist without S existing. Thus one could melt the bronze down, or re-shape the clay. In either case, the statue would cease to exist, while the quantity of matter would continue to exist.  If S ceases to exist while L continues to exist, then S is not identical to L. They are not identical because something is true of L that is not true of S: it is true of L that it can exist without S existing, but it is not true of S that it can exist without S existing.   I am relying upon the following principle, one that seems utterly beyond reproach:

(InId)  If x = y, whatever is true of x is true of y, and vice versa.

(This is a rough formulation of the Indiscenibility of Identicals.  A more careful formulation would block 
such apparent counterexamples  as:  Maynard G. Krebs believes that the morning star is a planet but does not believe that the evening star is a planet.)

Returning to the statue and the lump, although S is not identical to L, S is not wholly distinct, or wholly
diverse, from L either. This is because S cannot exist unless L exists. Note also that while S exists it occupies exactly the same space as does L.  As long as S exists, S and L are spatiotemporally coincident.  What's more, they are composed of exactly the same matter arranged in exactly the same way.  And yet they are not identical!  Very curious.  How could there be two physical things in the same place at the same time?  But I have just shown that they cannot be identical.  Suppose that the statue and the lump come into existence at the same time t and pass out of existence at the same later time t*.  At all times they share the same matter, and at no time are they not spatiotemporally coincident. And yet they are not identical because modally discernible.  In our world, L composes S now, but there are possible worlds at which L does not not compose S now.

The fact that there are bronze statues and that the statue and its matter are neither strictly identical nor strictly distinct  suggests the following analogy: The Father is to God as the statue is to the lump of matter out of which it is sculpted. And the same goes for the other Persons. Each Person is to God as the statue is to the lump.  Schematically, P is to G as S to L. The Persons are like hylomorphic compounds where the hyle in question is the divine substance.

Thus the Persons are not each identical to God, which would have the consequence that they are identical to one another. Nor are the persons instances of divinity which would entail tri-theism. It is rather that the persons are composed of God as of a common  substance. Thus we avoid a unitarianism in which there is no room for distinctness of Persons, and we avoid tri-theism. So far, so good.

Something like this approach is advocated by Jeffrey Brower and Michael Rea, here.

But does the statue/lump analogy avoid the problems we faced with the water analogy? Aren’t the two analogies so closely analogous that they share the same problems?   Water occurs in three distinct states, the gaseous, the liquid, and the solid. One and and the same quantity of water can assume any of these three states. Distinctness of states is compatible with oneness of substance. On the water analogy, the Persons are to God as the three states of water are to water. 

Liquid, solid, and gaseous are states of water. Similarly, a statue is a state of a lump of matter.  The main problem with both analogies is as follows.  God is not a substance in the sense in which clay and water are substances. Thus God is not a stuff or hyle, but a substance in the sense of a hypostasis or hypokeimenon.  Beware of equivocating on 'substance.'  And it does no good to say that God is an immaterial or nonphysical stuff.  God is an immaterila being, but he cannot be or be composed of an immaterial stuff.  Besides, 'immaterial stuff' smacks of a contradictio in adjecto.  It sounds like 'immaterial matter.'  Furthermore, the divine unity must be accommodated. The ground of divine unity cannot be amorphous matter whether physical or nonphysical.

In addition, one and the same quantity of H20 cannot be simultaneously and throughout liquid, solid, and gaseous. Similarly, one and the same quantity of bronze cannot be simultaneously and throughout three different statues. Connected with this is how God could be a hylomorphic compound, or any sort of compound, given the divine simplicity which rules out all composition in God.

In sum, the statue/lump analogy is not better than the water/state analogy. Neither explains how we can secure both unity of the divine nature and distinctness of Persons.

‘Leftist,’ not ‘Liberal’

Whenever I speak of liberals sans phrase I mean contemporary liberals.  But contemporary liberals are leftists, so perhaps I should drop 'liberal' and use 'leftist.'  As Roger Kimball remarks,

Usage note: attentive readers will register the fact that I say “leftists,” not “liberals.” Conservatives, I know, often speak about the depredations and bad behavior of “liberals.” But it has been a long time since the people whom we have called liberals were interested in freedom or liberty. What they are interested in, on the contrary, is pursuing the illiberal agenda of control.

In the same short piece Kimball compares the Tractarian Wittgenstein with the politically correct: "Wittgenstein sought to exclude the whole realm of ethics and metaphysics from the kingdom of speech; our politically correct leftists wish to exclude anything that doesn’t conform to their political agenda."

Rasputin

The tale of how this semi-literate Siberian peasant insinuated himself into the highest precincts of throne and altar in imperial Russia is told by Joseph T. Furhmann in Rasputin: The Untold Story (John Wiley & Sons, 2013).  It held my attention to the last page.

Contrary to popular belief, Rasputin wasn't a monk and, though hard to kill, was dead by the time he was dumped into the icy Neva.

If a 'holy man' takes money or sex from his disciples, that is a reliable sign that he is a fraud.

I am reminded of the famous and rather more recent cases of Rajneesh and Chogyam
Trungpa. According to one report, ". . . Trungpa slept with a different woman every night in order to transmit the teaching to them. L. intimated that it was really a hardship for Trungpa to do this, but it was his duty in order to spread the dharma."

With apologies to the shade of Jack Kerouac, you could say that that gives new meaning to 'dharma bum.'

Here is a review of the Fuhrmann book.

Leftist First, Catholic Second

For too many Catholics and other Christians, their leftism is their real 'religion.'  This from The Thinking Housewife:

ANNY YENNY reports at the website Politichicks that her eighth-grade son was given extra credit by his Catholic school religion teacher for fasting on the first day of Ramadan. When the mother complained, the teacher objected and “lectured [her] on the superiority of Muslims to Christians.”

The principles of ecumenism put forth at Vatican II lead with irrevocable logic to teaching Catholics how to be good Muslims.

I agree with something in the vicinity of the point the Housewife makes here.  But her last sentence illustrates the slippery slope fallacy.  If the logic is "irrevocable," then it is deductively valid; but slippery slope argumentation, if intended to be deductive, is always invalid.  What should she have said?  Something like this: 'The ecumenism of Vatican II set the stage for, and made likely, the sort of absurdities that Anny Yenny complains of." 

Surely there was no logical necessity that the principles of Vatican II eventuate in the absurdity in question.