Monday, 31 October 2011

Halloween...

Samhain was a festival marking the transition between the longer, brighter days of Summer and the darker, colder nights of winter. Associated with it is the thought that the walls between this world and the next are at their thinnest. It was a time for taking stock, and preparing for what is ahead.

Halloween seems mostly to be an excuse to either eat too much chocolate or drink too much booze (depending on age/preference).

I'm voting in favour of abandoning Halloween in favour of adopting the Mexican Day of the Dead; a holiday that somehow manages to combine Samhain's sense of spirituality, Halloween's tendency towards boozey excess and, to top it off, an excellent visual aesthetic to boot. What more could anyone want?


Sunday, 23 October 2011

Sunday morning...

I ventured to briefly leave the house a minute ago, only to find myself walking past what appeared to be a condom full of excrement (which, for full effect, had of course been stepped in by someone too).

The only semi-reasonable explanation of this I can come up with is that somebody might have been walking their dog, only to realise that they were unequipped to deal with a canine call of nature. Desperately searching for a solution, they fished in their pocket and produced something which - at least conceivably - could possibly have served to contain the doggy doings.

When push came to shove, however, (if you'll pardon the unpleasant imagery this might conjure up) they discovered that their makeshift rubber shitsack was not really up to the job, leaving it splayed on the pavement behind them, attempting to suppress their gag reflex and trying not to think about the unfortunate soul who would inevitably step in to the mess they had left behind.

Needless to say I do not intend to leave the house again today.

Saturday, 22 October 2011

Time

To state the obivous, time is a paradox.

It is both something inner - the way in which we experience the world as a stream of events and consciousness - and something we are within - the "cosmic" passage of time that encompasses past, future and present.

As such it is both something personal - my experience of the ever receding present - and something shared - that by which we can be said to "share" a present.

And it is both something finite - something we never have enough of; our time is constantly "running out" - and something infinite - time stretches out as far behind and and far ahead of our own lives as it is possible to consider from the perspective or our own finitude, making it part of the very limit of how we can understand being and creation.

All I really know is that I'm struggling to keep up with it. Perhaps if I'm allowed to work on my thesis at somewhere close to the speed of light, then things will be ok? Although I'm not sure what effect that will have on the word count.

Thursday, 20 October 2011

Deep Thought

"I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is." - Deep Thought on the answer to the ultimate question...

Thinkings today, but I am trying to avoid doing philosophy. So instead I will ramble on a blog. Which is the same but somehow even more pretentious.

The world is conditioned by our understanding, and our understanding by our experience of the world. As the ways in which we, across space and time, have understood the world have and do differ, it stands to reason that the worlds have differed too. The concepts by which we understand the world are not, ultimately, separable from our experiences; they draw from and feed in to one another. There is no way we can step out of the stream of experience to get a "God's eye view" of things.

But we want to say that, at the same time, it has been the same world understood by different people across time. How then, do we unify the plurality? How do we find identity among difference?

It seems, at first necessary to posit some world independent of the languages and methods we use to describe and understand it.

But this could be missing the point. The world isn't represented to us via experience, it is present. There is not necessarily a gap to be bridged.

The reason we might think there is could be because, although we cannot step outside of experience to get a "God's eye view", we can step back enough to ask a question as if from that point of view.

We are, for better or worse, self-conscious. We are aware of ourselves as ourselves. We are also aware of the world as the world. This seems something fairly uniquely human. It's not clear cut. Animals are conscious. A dog is aware of the world. It's consciousness is directed towards the world; the dog chases the cat. But it is only in language that this relationship becomes transitive; the dog does not, as far as we know, think of the cat as the object of his consciousness, and he the subject. He just gets on with chasing the cat.

Many animals, it should be said, do occasionally display behaviour more sophisticated than "chasing", which may complicate matters a little. I'm not going to claim to be an authority on animal consciousness, I only want to make the point is that there is something fairly unusual about humans, as far as animal life on this planet goes.

Things like language, and anything by which we "describe" or manipulate the world in some way or another, mediate between us and the world, allowing us to bring our own experience of the world to consciousness. It is because of this mediation, however, that we become alienated from our immediate belonging to the world. We experience the world both prereflectively as part of the world and reflectively, aware of ourselves as conscious within the world. We fall from grace, and become aware of ourselves as naked in the Garden of Eden.

I'm getting too close to philosophising for comfort, so I'll leave a lot unsaid. It probably comes down to some sort of sense of resolution, in terms of both the will and an end point. But perhaps what unites the plurality of worlds is that they are all attempts to answer a question that no one quite understands. Coming to terms with ourselves as of part of the world even through our alienation from the world. Ways of Being-in-the-World.

Which I suppose makes Eve the first philosopher. Good on her.

"When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves." - Genesis 3:6-7

Monday, 29 August 2011

Fake Country Song...


Earlier today, I decided that "My Glass is Half Full (Of You)" would be a great name for a country song. This afternoon I felt that I had a moral compulsion to write this song...

They say that this world can be trying

That it’s all just thieving and lying

My brother sees this, and he’s at a loose end

He says he that he just can’t comprehend

How it is that I smile all day through

It’s ‘cause my glass is half full of you

Yeah, my dog is dead

Got no roof o’er my head,

But my glass is half full of you


They say that it’s hard to be a woman

Giving all your love to just one man

And every single day, you say that I ain’t got a clue

Why it is that you’re feeling quite so blue

But darling, what else can I do

When my glass is half full of you?

Yeah, my dog is dead

Got no roof o’er my head,

But my glass is half full of you





May the gods of song forgive me...

Thursday, 25 August 2011

Sweet Dreams...


I tend to listen to music or the radio as I am attempting to go to sleep. I know that, on one level, this is counter intuitive. That it probably stops me from getting to sleep. That I should really just close my eyes and let sleep steal over me. And I do this whenever I can. It's a good feeling.

The problem is that, most of the time, it doesn't work like this. My brain starts shouting at me instead. Frequently, just when I feel like I might be near dropping off, it will throw some long forgotten memory my way, to remind me of my own inadequacies. Something deeply embarrassing that has happened to me during my life. Or something unpleasant or painful. Like some little homunculus pointing out mental scars and shouting "Remember this one! Wow! You were a complete dick!" And it will often continue as long as it can, undermining my confidence and waiting for my sanity and self-esteem to collapse entirely.

Last night was an odd one. It began with a memory from when I was very young. I was with my parents, who were themselves doing a scavenger hunt organised by a pub in Bickleigh (the village where I went to primary school). I was probably somewhere between five and eight years old, I guess. One of the items on the scavenger hunt list was, perhaps oddly, a snail. My parents had given me the snail to look after, as I was fascinated by creepy crawlies of all kinds when I was a wee 'un. I remember, when we got back to the pub, I had the snail on my hand. It was just crawling about, like snails do. I showed it to another boy (of whom I have forgotten the name), the son of some of my parents friends. It's fair to say that he wasn't quite such a fan of invertebrates as I was. I know this because, upon seeing my snail friend, he slammed his hand down upon it, crushing it. So I now had a dead snail smeared across my hand. Which was deeply upsetting as, in our short time together, I had developed an attachment to the slimy little thing. And nobody likes having snail innards on them anyway. So I cried like the tiny child I was, and ran back to my parents.

No idea why that memory has stuck with me so, or why it should return in the dead of night like it did. But, regardless, it is not a feeling you want to lie there reliving as you try to sleep. The feelings of sadness, shock, powerlessness, guilt and inadequacy. So I decided to listen to an episode of Yes Minister on iPlayer. At which point I fell to sleep.

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

What Will You Do?

Song. Ultra-twee as a form of self-defense against the world...

What did you do this morning?
What did you do when you woke up?
What did you do this afternoon in the sunshine?

What did you do when he told you?
What did you do when you found out?
What did you do, did you ask her name?

Don't lose sight of the big picture,
Don't lose sight of how things could be,
Don't lose sight of who you are,
'Cause you're something else,

Something different,
Something good.

What did you do come the evening?
What did you do when you got home?
Did you still make tea for two tonight?

What did you do come the night time?
What did you do under starlight?
What did you do, did you sleep alone tonight?

And don't lose sight of the hard times,
Every time he made you cry.
And don't lose sight of the good times,
Every time he made you smile.

'Cause I know,
'Cause I know you're strong.

What will you do?
What will you do?
What will you do?