A synchronology check of the above YouTube upload date —
Sept. 3, 2024 — yields a somewhat relevant quotation . . .
"It was — and is — very difficult to focus, to navigate
between each sentence and its real-time double,
to find the fuzzy edges where these reflections meet."
— This journal on April 17, 2020, in a passage quoted
from a Laura Marris essay in The New York Times.
ART WARS:
The following flashback to March 2002 seems a suitable entry for May, which is Mental Health Month.
From On Certainty, by Ludwig Wittgenstein (Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1969):
#508: What can I rely on?
#509: I really want to say that a language game is only possible if one trusts something. (I did not say "can trust something").
— Quoted by Hilary Putnam in Renewing Philosophy, Chapter 8 (Harvard University Press, 1992)
From "Deconstructing Postmodernism," by Ziauddin Sardar, at the website "The Free Arab Voice":
Doubt, the perpetual and perennial condition of postmodernism, is best described by the motto of the cult television series The X-files: ‘Trust no One’….
Deconstruction – the methodology of discursive analysis – is the norm of postmodernism. Everything has to be deconstructed. But once deconstruction has reached its natural conclusion, we are left with a grand void: there is nothing, but nothing, that can remotely provide us with meaning, with a sense of direction, with a scale to distinguish good from evil.
Those who, having reviewed a thousand years of lies by Jews, Arabs, and Christians, are sick of language games, and who are also offended by the recent skillful deconstruction of the World Trade Center, may find some religious solace in the philosophy of Zen.
Though truth may be very hard to find in the pages of most books, the page numbers are generally reliable. This leads to the following Zen meditations.
From a review of the film "The Terminator":
Some like to see Sarah as a sort of Mother of God, and her son as the saviour in a holy context. John Connor, J.C. , but these initials are also those of the director, so make up your own mind.
— http://www.geocities.com/
hackettweb2/terminator.html
From a journal note on religion, science, and the meaning of life written in 1998 on the day after Sinatra died and the Pennsylvania lottery number came up "256":
"What is 256 about?"
— S. H. Cullinane
From Michael Crichton's Rising Sun (Ballantine paperback, 1993) —
John Connor (aka J. C.) offers the following metaphysical comment on the page number that appears above his words (256):
"It seems to be."
"Is your investigation finished?"
"For all practical purposes, yes," Connor said.
Connor is correct. The number 256 does indeed seem to be, and indeed it seemed to be again only yesterday evening, when the Pennsylvania lottery again made a metaphysical statement.
Our Zen meditation on the trustworthiness of page numbers concludes with another passage from Rising Sun, this time on page 373:
Connor sighed.
"The clock isn't moving."
Here J. C. offers another trenchant comment on his current page number.
The metaphysical significance of 373, "the eternal in the temporal," is also discussed in the Buddhist classic A Flag for Sunrise, by Robert Stone (Knopf hardcover, 1981)… on, of course, page 373.
Force Field of Dreams
Metaphysics and chess in today's New York Times Magazine:
Joss Whedon, creator of a new TV series —
"I'm a very hard-line, angry atheist" and
"I want to invade people's dreams."
Garry Kasparov on chess —
"When the computer sees forced lines,
it plays like God."
Putting these quotations together, one is tempted to imagine God having a little game of chess with Whedon, along the lines suggested by C. S. Lewis:
As Lewis tells it the time had come for his "Adversary [as he was wont to speak of the God he had so earnestly sought to avoid] to make His final moves." (C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy, Harcourt, Brace, and World, Inc., 1955, p. 216) Lewis called them "moves" because his life seemed like a chess match in which his pieces were spread all over the board in the most disadvantageous positions. The board was set for a checkmate….
For those who would like to imagine such a game (God vs. Whedon), the following may be helpful.
George Steiner has observed that
The common bond between chess, music, and mathematics may, finally, be the absence of language.
This quotation is apparently from
Fields of Force:
Fischer and Spassky at Reykjavik. by George Steiner, Viking hardcover, June 1974.
George Steiner as quoted in a review of his book Grammars of Creation:
"I put forward the intuition, provisional and qualified, that the 'language-animal' we have been since ancient Greece so designated us, is undergoing mutation."
The phrase "language-animal" is telling. A Google search reveals that it is by no means a common phrase, and that Steiner may have taken it from Heidegger. From another review, by Roger Kimball:
In ''Grammars of Creation,'' for example, he tells us that ''the classical and Judaic ideal of man as 'language animal,' as uniquely defined by the dignity of speech . . . came to an end in the antilanguage of the death camps.''
This use of the Holocaust not only gives the appearance of establishing one's credentials as a person of great moral gravity; it also stymies criticism. Who wants to risk the charge of insensitivity by objecting that the Holocaust had nothing to do with the ''ideal of man as 'language animal' ''?
Steiner has about as clear an idea of the difference between "classical" and "Judaic" ideals of man as did Michael Dukakis. (See my notes of September 9, 2002.)
Clearly what music, mathematics, and chess have in common is that they are activities based on pure form, not on language. Steiner is correct to that extent. The Greeks had, of course, an extremely strong sense of form, and, indeed, the foremost philosopher of the West, Plato, based his teachings on the notion of Forms. Jews, on the other hand, have based their culture mainly on stories… that is, on language rather than on form. The phrase "language-animal" sounds much more Jewish than Greek. Steiner is himself rather adept at the manipulation of language (and of people by means of language), but, while admiring form-based disciplines, is not particularly adept at them.
I would argue that developing a strong sense of form — of the sort required to, as Lewis would have it, play chess with God — does not require any "mutation," but merely learning two very powerful non-Jewish approaches to thought and life: the Forms of Plato and the "archetypes" of Jung as exemplified by the 64 hexagrams of the 3,000-year-old Chinese classic, the I Ching.
For a picture of how these 64 Forms, or Hexagrams, might function as a chessboard,
Other relevant links:
"As you read, watch for patterns. Pay special attention to imagery that is geometric…"
and
Powered by WordPress