Tuesday, January 3, 2012

I Have A Problem. This Is A Problem

This is a problem.

Much of thinking is about problems.

This is about the problem of thinking.

Thinking is always directed towards a problem.

Thinking itself is a huge problem.

Intentionality is about problems.

Do you see the problem?

Because all I see is problems.

The word problem enters my vocabulary.

A lot.

And I don't think that this is a problem.

Because problems are everywhere except in my references to problems.

This is a problem.

Memory And The Imagination

This is a brief note. But it is something I've been thinking about for a little while not.

The best reference I can make is to Nicholas Carr's chapter on memory in his book The Shallows: What The Internet Is Doing To Our Brains. In that chapter, he responds to claims that the internet has made memory obsolete because we can look up anything at any moment.

Carr claims that this is false because it misunderstands that practical benefits of human memory, namely, the relationship between memory and creativity. He cites an author who says something about how building a great memory of other writers is different from pure recording because memories mix in your mind and create a unique combination, a nectar of your own mind.

When I read something, I don't read it independently of all the other things I have read. My understanding from other books melds and blends with this new book. My memory of those books mingles with my forming memories of this new book. I then come up with something new, I take something away from the book that wasn't in the book because I have managed to combine my reading of that book with prior learning.

How am I to conceptualize this process? Why is memory so important?

I think Collingwood's theory of the imagination can help with these questions.

Collingwood defines the imagination as the space between raw sensations and ideas. In that space we can consciously manipulate traces of sensation, re-experience them, recombine them, and come up with something new. Every passing feeling leaves a trace, an echo, of itself. By using consciousness we can focus on an emotional trace, imagine it more firmly in our minds, and transform it into an idea, a clearly held image.

Collingwood claims that memory is merely a property of the imagination: "it is probable that what we call remembering an emotion is never anything but thus focusing our attention on the traces it has left in our present feeling. The same is perhaps true of recalling a colour, or sound, or scent. Memory, in this sense of a somewhat ambiguous word, is perhaps only fresh attention to the traces of a sensuous-emotional experience which has not yet entirely passed away" (The Principles Of Art, 211).

Thus we can see the relationship between memory, imagination, and creativity. Not really. I haven't explained it entirely.

I also wanted to talk about Zizek's claim that freedom is inherently retroactive and how Collingwood's work on the imagination also helps illuminate that idea. I first read about it in In Defense Of Lost Causes, which was published in 2006. I then watched a lecture of his from 2009 where he referred to it. In both cases he cannot explain this idea very clearly. Put most succinctly, freedom is inherently retroactive because every true act 'retroactively creates the conditions for its own possibility'. He likes to use Kafka as an example. He talked on both occasions about how authors before Kafka like Proust or someone else were seen as Kafka's predecessors. But before Kafka those people weren't somehow inevitably leading to Kafka. It is Kafka's choices and actions that make them his predecessors. This somehow means that Kafka retroactively created the conditions of his own possibility.

The only way I have been able to think about this is with Collingwood's ideas about the imagination. What I take Zizek to mean is that what we take in, our raw experiences, are a huge variety of traces that we can choose or not to choose to seize upon. That our experiences are always deterministic in some ways, we only experience what we are exposed to, especially as children. But through the use of consciousness and the imagination we can seize on our experiences and recombine them in certain ways to make new decisions. Why is this a retroactive creation of the conditions of possibility of that action? Because I could potentially have traces in my mind that could lead to fruitful new ideas, but I could fail to cease on those possibilities through lack of imaginative exertion. But if I do seize on a combination of traces, it is only through my will, my consciousness and imagination that I have coalesced those traces into a clear idea. Thus somehow, through will retroactively creating the conditions of possibility for that thought or action.

I don't know if that makes sense.

But like I said I'm struggling for ways to think about Zizek's claim that freedom is inherently retroactive. His examples aren't entirely clear and he seemed at a loss on how to express it in his 2009 lecture. So far Collingwood's theory of the imagination is the only thing helping me.

I hope to write more on this issue of retroactive freedom.

Questions and Answers

What are you doing when you say something? Anything at all. What is a proposition?

If you are Collingwood, any proposition is the answer to a question.

Because every proposition is an answer to a question. Question and answer are strictly corollary. There cannot be one without the other.

I don't know what to make of this claim.

I know I read someone who said that it was a shame that Collingwood was never able to systematically develop this idea of 'question and answer logic'. He only devoted a single chapter to it in An Autobiography and a dozen pages or less in An Essay On Metaphysics. 


This is a claim I've been casually trying to work out in my own experience. When someone asserts something, I wonder, is there a question that necessarily underlies their statement? Can I indeed identify an implicit question to their statements? Do I believe that that question is constitutive of the statement? Or is it possible that their statement exists independently of the question that I suspect to be constitutive of their statement?

A good example of what I'm getting at is the application of contemporary concepts to history. One might be tempted, for example, to say that many ancient Greeks were homosexual. The application of the term 'homosexual', however, would not account for the quality of the Greek experience. They would not have classified themselves in that way and therefore would not have thought the same things about their experiences and therefore would not have any experience that could be called 'homosexual'. What the term homosexual does, however, is give us a rational framework that appears to fit a certain type of behavior. Even if that rationality is incorrect, it is still appealing because it appears logical.

Similarly, I could be applying a rational framework (a question) that does not necessarily apply to a situation (an answer). I could be supposing that a question is constitutive of a proposition even if that hypothetical question (or even the issue of questions themselves) did not account for the existence of that proposition.

These aren't good examples and this writing probably isn't clear or precise.

But its late and I'm tired.

All you need to know is that Collingwood's notion of question and answer logic is a concern of mine that will eventually get my attention. It's in the background right now. But if someone is reading this, do me a favor, try to reflect on the things you say. Are they always answering a question? If it seems so, is that question imaginary? Or is it actually constitutive of the statement?

Also, ask your self, Do any of these questions matter?

Lol. Probably not, bro.

But I like the way thinking feels.

The Social Pupil

What does the pupil of your eye do?

It expands when it wants to take in more light. It contracts when it wants to take in less light.

I wish to be the dilated social eye.
I want to always let you in.
You and your light,
Your words and their mind.

Because the mind, too, dialates and contracts.
It lets in more or less degrees of the other.
Sometimes it readily takes minds in.
But it also reduces minds, minimizes their intake.

If you manage to pay attention
Minds are bright.
Every interaction is like
An optometry appointment.

All the light is painfully clean.
The streets and their numbers
Are novel and nonsensical.
Gas behemoths are a blurry green.

But I am money bound
Using that beep
To take that ride
To encounter another frown.

Another disinterested soul
Trudging through this mess.
Waiting to die
Just like me.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

And With This Post...

I make it so that December and March are tied for the least blogged month of the year.

IN WHICH I NEGATE THE CLAIM OF MY PREVIOUS POST.

But when I wrote that post I set off a string of reflections. Reflections focused on my man Collingwood and the work on him that I recently initiated.

In order to complete Part IV of Art, Zen, And Insurrection, I undertook a chronological analysis of political themes in Collingwood's work. Beginning with The Principles Of Art I asked 'What is political in Collingwood's work on aesthetics?' From there I planned to move through, An Autobiography, An Essay On Metaphysics, The Idea Of History, and finally, The New Leviathan.

I managed to make it though the Autobiography and his Metaphysics, but I stalled out as soon as I hit The Idea Of History.

Part of this has to do with a gift that my (lovely and observant) parents got me. They bought me a copy of Collingwood's unfinished work, The Principles Of History. Which is awesome. I'm super happy to own it.

I was like oh snap.

But I was also like 'oh no, how am I going to write on Collingwood's work on history if I have an unread copy of The Principles Of History' in front of me?'

But oh well.

I'm just going to write on The Idea Of History, being careful to frame it as a preliminary statement of Collingwood's views on the politics of history.

This is the intro paragraph to that section:


"Approaching the political implications of Collingwood’s work on history is tricky for several reasons. On the one hand, we must do it, for Collingwood claimed that history was the highest form of knowledge, and no analysis of Collingwood’s oeuvre would be complete unless it took his claims about history seriously. The deeper difficulty, however, surrounds the status of his books that expressly deal with history. The Idea Of History, for example, was compiled from manuscripts by a student, and some have criticized his arrangement of the material. The Idea Of History, therefore, cannot be considered an authoritative statement of Collingwood’s conclusions about historical knowledge. Furthermore, the recovery of lost manuscripts and their publication as The Principles Of History complicates this task even further. In short, Collingwood didn’t live to complete his work on history. Drawing certain conclusions from his writing, therefore, is a difficult, if not impossible, task. In this section, however, I’d like to look at the material in The Idea Of History that is expressly political, just to provide a tentative statement about the politics of Collingwood’s history."

The Least Blogged Month Of The Year!

This month was pretty good. This year was also quite good.

This month is almost over. This year is just about over.

Hard to believe.

I didn't do a ton of blogging this month. I did some writing in some word documents. Still have like 20 pages of material sitting there unfinished. One is the next portion of AZI. Another is an essay that I've become frustrated with. I have other unfinished essays sitting around, too.

But man, I don't know why I didn't do that much writing this month.

I was busy. Getting ready for Christmas. Working a lot. Hanging out with folks. Trying to be all wtf is up here?

It is tough. Really tough to just keep pushing ahead with the business of thinking and writing.

All kinds of little hang ups.

All kinds of questions like 'What the hell am I writing?'

What am I thinking about?

Unclear.

The Principles Of Art, and other books by Collingwood, no doubt. But what are the issues?

My aunt got be a book by Wendell Berry, Standing By Words. Looks pretty exciting. He talks about the relationship between the collapse of communities and the collapse of language. Seems like a great topic. Seems at the intersection of Collingwood's views on magic and Searle's views on language.

Meh!

I have very little patience for all this stuff right now. Thinking, writing, whatever. I'll be back to you soon enough. Right now I need to relax and read. Almost done with Manuel DeLanda's A Thousand Years Of Nonlinear History, which is annoying but potentially fruitful.

I also suspect it might be useless. But I know it isn't. I just find it very challenging.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Scattered Thoughts

For Christmas I got a book I'm excited about. There are several new books I'm excited about, actually. But the one I'm referring to is Nietzsche's Human, All Too Human: A Book for Free Spirits. What is exciting about it?

One thing is the number of indexes to 'habit'. Quite a number.

Reading over those sections on habit I felt like I was beginning to understand Foucault's relationship to Nietzsche. There is so much to be said for Foucault's historical orientation, his attempt to illuminate unreflective modes of behavior. It is so easy for me to see Foucault's work arising out of Nietzsche's claim that "A lack of historical sense is the congenital defect of all philosophers" (14). Further, I believe that Foucault's work has quite a bit to do with habit, even if he isn't explicit on this point. So when Nietzsche has all this stuff to say about habit, I have to wonder about all this stuff.

My head swirls with ideas about history and the formation of habits, about historical study, mindfulness, and the role of habit in freedom, about civility, the cultivation of an attitude, and all kinds of shit.

I was reading Nietzsche today at my aunts house and I had some kind of idea. I thought, 'oh I should write this down', but I didn't. And I don't know what it was that I thought.

But it had something to do with habits and self-creation, about history and self-knowledge, about nihilism as an outlook, as a method, and a preparatory phase. I don't know what I think exactly. But I know I think a lot about habit and self-creation, about nihilism and hope and love.

I'll distill these thoughts some day. But Nietzsche demands my attention more than I've been able to admit. Thank goodness my aunt bought me a copy of Human, All Too Human. I hope to read it soon.

About Me

I spend most of my time working as a mental health professional. I have been preoccupied with philosophy, politics, healing, and many other questions for the last 15 years or so. I am currently working on putting together my study of Plato and Aristotle with contemporary work in philosophy, psychology, psychotherapy, and trauma research. I use this place primarily as a workshop for ideas. I welcome conversation with anyone working on similar problems. The major contours of my basic project have been outlined here

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