Archive for September, 2009
Wednesday, September 30th, 2009
As predicted, it’s almost official now. Our merchant elites have their candidate.
This has now been confirmed by Tom Barthold, the Chief of Staff of the Joint Committee on Taxation, in a hand-written note to a Republican Senator. And it’s not merely about jail time; it’s also about the $25,000 fine that could be levied by the IRS against individuals who refuse to buy health insurance.
That this is even being considered just boggles the mind. If a person is too broke to afford health insurance right now, how are they supposed to be able to buy it after paying a $25,000 fine and spending a year in prison?
As Paul Craig Roberts brilliantly pointed out in a recent essay, this is like trying to solve the homeless problem by forcing homeless people to buy a home, then throwing them in prison when they can’t afford to. Up to twelve U.S. states are now considering legislation to override the federal government’s intent to require mandatory health insurance
Let’s review by following the money:
In late 2006, George Soros, the British empire/Wall Street gatekeeper of the Left, vetted Senator Barack Obama’s potential Presidential candidacy on behalf of financier oligarchs. Soros then introduced Obama to a selected financier group, and Obama soon afterwards announced he would seek the White House.
Soros’s involvement with Obama’s brief national political career had begun two years earlier with Soros fundraising for Obama’s campaign for U.S. senate, and continued through the 2007 Presidential campaign launch with huge fundraising operations by Soros and his circle.
Why this globalist billionaire wants this administration in his pocket:
With House Democrats moving to extract more than that just as the drug makers finalized their advertising plans, the industry lobbyists pressed the Obama administration for public reassurances that it had agreed to cap the industry’s additional costs at $80 billion. The White House, meanwhile, has struggled to mollify its most pivotal health industry ally without alienating Congressional Democrats who want to demand far more of the drug makers. White House officials could not immediately be reached for comment.
Money trail complete:
GuruFocus tracks the stock buys, sells and commentaries of stock investment gurus such as Warren Buffett, George Soros, the best investors.
Sunday, September 27th, 2009
In a speech at the 1991 Bilderberg Convention, Rockefeller stated “we are grateful to The Washington Post, The New York Times, Time Magazine, and other great publications whose directors have attended our meetings and respected their promises of discretion for almost forty years. It would have been impossible for us to develop our plan for the world if we had been subject to the lights of publicity during those years. But the world is now more sophisticated and prepared towards a world government. The supranational sovereignty on an intellectual elite and world bankers is surely preferable to the national auto-determination practiced in past centuries.”
What puts people like this in power?
- Athletic ability
- Good looks
- Untarnished character
If you answer money, you’re right. Now assuming such people aren’t professional safe crackers centering their operations around bank heists, how do they amass such fortunes?
Simply put, the answer is hundreds of millions of consumers spending themselves into debt. There isn’t another consistent source of sustainment for globalist wealth. It is only the earnings of ordinary people in all their great numbers, converted into consumer spending.
If this process continues–if consumers get their debts down to reasonable levels–it will eventually make the country’s primary economic engine, shoppers, stronger and more sustainable.
It’s fair to say that most of last Friday’s G20 protesters, marching in downtown Pittsburg where the latest summit was held, are themselves corporate consumers. That’s right, they fuel the very engine of unfair effects of globalization against which they protest.
The protests are expected to continue indefinitely, which is another way of saying, mass protest is not expected to change anything, but you’re perfectly free to do so.
John Kirton, director of the G20 Research Group at the University of Toronto, said he expects protests to remain a fixture at summits and that he considers them a valuable part of democracy.
Maybe a change in perspective and behaviour is needed. If international capitalism is a problem, why run around in the streets like angry primates throwing monkey poo at it?
Protesters on Friday held up signs such as “We Say No To Corporate Greed,” and “G20 = Death by Capitalism” and chanted “Hey hey ho ho, corporate welfare has to go.”
The protest strategy is now predictable like clockwork, arriving any time and any place that globalists announce to the public they are gathering. The angry crowd is expected and as its history shows, impotent in its goals other than getting itself injured and destroying property.
Luckily, there are some others who have come up with some new ideas. Some of these are replacement economics operating in parallel under the larger capitalist dominion.
Others call for mass non-participation in order to “starve the beast” of its wealth and power. Still others propose spawning new societies under different rules in the hopes these succeed, inspire others around the world, and overtake the old order.
There are three main choices:
- Accept the world as it is
- Get upset at the world and show one’s own impotence
- Undertake the difficult task of working on a superior replacement
Alternative Local Economy
Buy Nothing Christmas
Buy Nothing Day
National Day of Slayer
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
Between extreme liberalism and the far right there is a tenuous connection in secular pantheistic beliefs about the nature of earth being one large organic computer, in which we are processor/memory chips and network for the purposes of larger communications made more apparent by our use of technology to link together.
Since many of of us growing up in this politically-effete time twitch at the mention of “Gaia” and “planetary consciousness,” it is worth noting here that these concepts are handled with wide-eyed liberal hope tempered by a good editor until the waning moments of the book, when the need for page count outweighs the need for coherence. Russell walks his readers through summaries of the major theory about global consciousness, then provides some proofs in the forms of figures and charts and citations of mainstream sources for his beliefs, then launches into a final explication which is where he becomes starry-eyed toward the end.
Regardless of this, and the age of this book at the time of this writing, it is a useful guide toward what unifies the theories of both ancient and future time, and creates a flexible starting position for anyone wishing to look outside the dominant “Western” (Judeo-Christian industrialist) concept of linear causality and absolute moral independence of the individual, although these positions are never articulated as such by the book. Well-written and of energetic pacing, this book is a pleasant read with something new around every corner, even if the overall plot is known.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
This volume of essays tied together by an introductory contribution by its editor displays an early attempt by the postmodern camp to attempt to find a sensible intellectual structure to the diverse, bizarre, and often incoherent tenets of chaos theory. It does so through a multidisciplinary approach which results in a metaphorical understanding which expands the underlying science into the edges of practicality.
Essays in Chaos and Order: Complex Dynamics in Literature and Science attempts to link representations of natural order in literature with philosophical concepts gestured to by aspects of the new found discipline of chaos science, chasing through fractal patterns and scatter diagrams to find common threads which exemplify the beginnings of a new idealism. What emerges is a group of people attempting to find structure outside of the modernist (Judeo-Christian industrialist) symbolism that constrains our thoughts at the initial levels of our processing, forcing us to react to taboo and/or praise necessary egalitarian principles; this quest for reason is met with problems as the authors, like most in this field, attempt to use the iconographic principles of the modernist era to prove their points.
This approach works – up until the final stage of analysis – at which point no larger abstractions can be drawn, and the entire work collapses in the mumbling incoherence of an intriguing conversation heard through a crowd: fragments of brilliance and the most mundane conclusion of all, a lack of cohesion enough to produce some finite conclusions. Academia after all functions by applying known theory to new ideas, which both expands theory and forces new ideas into variations on older formats. This approach is both conservative, working from archetypes, and liberal, or making speculative conjectures a basis for future theory.
As a book of essays, Chaos and Order: Complex Dynamics in Literature and Science demonstrates great internal variation and some essays rise above the rest. The book as a whole strikes a balance between intriguing topics and social affirmations which in the end tips toward indecision, but does so in a way that connects (linguistically, conceptually) chaos theory to other disciplines. The result is masterfully written by people who enjoy both the process of writing and academic study, and highlights emerging ideas and language constructions which will be a large part of defining future scholarship.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
In this lengthy tome of the sort of journalism that bridges scientific topics with their social counterparts, Rhodes – a Pulitzer prize-winning journalist – investigates the roots of violence in its perpetrators.
He does so entirely in the context of the work of Lonnie Athens, a maverick criminologist, but in the process carefully recreates a century of sociological analysis slowly evolving to the point where Athens’ work has relevance. In short, the theory is thus: people model their prediction of the world based on what they have seen, so if they observe violence or sadism as youths, they understand this as the currency of power which they will have to enact in order to maintain sense of self, because they – like all humans – are externally socialized.
What’s a shame about this book is that Rhodes shies away from the controversial topics of designing a more intelligent socialization, and instead burns pages with more detailed explication of a theory that, in its outline form, is appealingly commonsense, but in presentation relies heavily on the Judeo-Christian idea that some overarching symbolism must unite all of its parts. Life isn’t so handily human-centric.
So while this is an exciting revelation of the study of the culture of violence for its first 150 pages, and while it does a brilliant job of bringing out the personalities and motivations of the scientists involved (most of whom were witnesses to intense violence as youngsters), it falls flat in its desire to conform to the weaseling trends of justification and morality. However, for its first two-thirds, this book is a necessary read for anyone curious about self-image and violence.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
Few names elicit more controversial reactions than that of Tim McVeigh. Reviled by many but adored by some, he was a man of contradictions: a success in the Army who had bad luck getting ahead, but was recognized as capable and valorous by his peers. The bright child and indifferent student. Militia member and avid reader of The Turner Diaries, yet polite man of multiracial friendships. And finally, the incredibly sensitive, empathic guy who one morning parked a truck full of explosives near a federal building and detonated it.
With a subject like that, it’s hard to make a book boring, which is why it is fortunate these experienced journalists downplayed their story’s sensationalist aspects, preferring instead to make a stab at analysis of McVeigh as a person, and less a deed. In this they succeed brilliantly; although the book drops into a quick sequence of detail toward the end, it is well-staged and develops slowly but confidently during the first 2/3 of its length. Careful research hidden behind everyday language describing the upbringing and early years of its subject, including detailed but withdrawn profile of the family. While I find the “postmodern sociological analysis” nonsense to be over-emphasized in current society, and unable to consider the many factors at work in any situation, while on its drive to hammer home its point, here it’s a modest thesis with hints to other areas of possibly related gunk.
The book is exceptionally respectful of its subject and wonderfully deadpan about the introduction of the overdramatic points of view that many media outlets, especially the “news,” emphasize. The authors stick to mainly a magazine journalism style and in the eyes of their subject, adopt a view of “collateral damage” which allows, for the most part, a break from the hand-wringing moralizing that accompanies the coverage of any non-patriotic public event.
If I were writing this, there’d be more detail on the making of large explosive devices, and probably more coverage of McVeigh’s hushed political views. However, it’s hard to think of much else of a large scale that this book lacks: it’s a sturdy exploration of the thoughts and decisions leading up to what was arguably America’s first terrorist experience.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
– The World is Too Much With Us, William Wordsworth (1789)
Once upon a time, in some out of the way corner of that universe which is dispersed into numberless twinkling solar systems, there was a star upon which clever beasts invented knowing. That was the most arrogant and mendacious minute of “world history,” but nevertheless, it was only a minute. After nature had drawn a few breaths, the star cooled and congealed, and the clever beasts had to die. One might invent such a fable, and yet he still would not have adequately illustrated how miserable, how shadowy and transient, how aimless and arbitrary the human intellect looks within nature. There were eternities during which it did not exist.
And when it is all over with the human intellect, nothing will have happened. For this intellect has no additional mission which would lead it beyond human life. Rather, it is human, and only its possessor and begetter takes it so solemnly — as though the world’s axis turned within it. But if we could communicate with a gnat, we would learn that he likewise flies through the air with the same solemnity, that he feels the flying center of the universe within himself. There is nothing so reprehensible and unimportant in nature that it would not immediately swell up like a balloon at the slightest puff of this power of knowing. And just as every porter wants to have an admirer, so even the proudest of men, the philosopher, supposes that he sees on all sides the eyes of the universe telescopically focused upon his action and thought.
It is remarkable that this was brought about by the intellect, which was certainly allotted to these most unfortunate, delicate, and ephemeral beings merely as a device for detaining them a minute within existence. For without this addition they would have every reason to flee this existence as quickly as Lessing’s son. The pride connected with knowing and sensing lies like a blinding fog over the eyes and senses of men, thus deceiving them concerning the value of existence. For this pride contains within itself the most flattering estimation of the value of knowing. Deception is the most general effect of such pride, but even its most particular effects contain within themselves something of the same deceitful character.
As a means for the preserving of the individual, the intellect unfolds its principle powers in dissimulation, which is the means by which weaker, less robust individuals preserve themselves — since they have been denied the chance to wage the battle for existence with horns or with the sharp teeth of beasts of prey, This art of dissimulation reaches its peak in man. Deception, flattering, lying, deluding, talking behind the back, putting up a false front, living in borrowed splendor, wearing a mask, hiding behind convention, playing a role for others and for oneself — in short, a continuous fluttering around the solitary flame of vanity — is so much the rule and the law among men that there is almost nothing which is less comprehensible than how an honest and pure drive for truth could have arisen among them. They are deeply immersed in illusions and in dream images; their eyes merely glide over the surface of things and see “forms.” Their senses nowhere lead to truth; on the contrary, they are content to receive stimuli and, as it were, to engage in a groping game on the backs of things. Moreover, man permits himself to be deceived in his dreams every night of his life. His moral sentiment does not even make an attempt to prevent this, whereas there are supposed to be men who have stopped snoring through sheer will power.
What does man actually know about himself? Is he, indeed, ever able to perceive himself completely, as if laid out in a lighted display case? Does nature not conceal most things from him — even concerning his own body — in order to confine and lock him within a proud, deceptive consciousness, aloof from the coils of the bowels, the rapid flow of the blood stream, and the intricate quivering of the fibers! She threw away the key. And woe to that fatal curiosity which might one day have the power to peer out and down through a crack in the chamber of consciousness and then suspect that man is sustained in the indifference of his ignorance by that which is pitiless, greedy, insatiable, and murderous — as if hanging in dreams on the back of a tiger. Given this situation, where in the world could the drive for truth have come from?
Insofar as the individual wants to maintain himself against other individuals, he will under natural circumstances employ the intellect mainly for dissimulation. But at the same time, from boredom and necessity, man wishes to exist socially and with the herd; therefore, he needs to make peace and strives accordingly to banish from his world at least the most flagrant bellum omni contra omnes. This peace treaty brings in its wake something which appears to be the first step toward acquiring that puzzling truth drive: to wit, that which shall count as “truth” from now on is established. That is to say, a uniformly valid and binding designation is invented for things, and this legislation of language likewise establishes the first laws of truth. For the contrast between truth and lie arises here for the first time.
The liar is a person who uses the valid designations, the words, in order to make something which is unreal appear to be real. He says, for example, “I am rich,” when the proper designation for his condition would be “poor.” He misuses fixed conventions by means of arbitrary substitutions or even reversals of names. If he does this in a selfish and moreover harmful manner, society will cease to trust him and will thereby exclude him. What men avoid by excluding the liar is not so much being defrauded as it is being harmed by means of fraud. Thus, even at this stage, what they hate is basically not deception itself, but rather the unpleasant, hated consequences of certain sorts of deception. It is in a similarly restricted sense that man now wants nothing but truth: he desires the pleasant, life-preserving consequences of truth.
He is indifferent toward pure knowledge which has no consequences; toward those truths which are possibly harmful and destructive he is even hostilely inclined. And besides, what about these linguistic conventions themselves? Are they perhaps products of knowledge, that is, of the sense of truth? Are designations congruent with things? Is language the adequate expression of all realities? It is only by means of forgetfulness that man can ever reach the point of fancying himself to possess a “truth” of the grade just indicated. If he will not be satisfied with truth in the form of tautology, that is to say, if he will not be content with empty husks, then he will always exchange truths for illusions.
What is a word? It is the copy in sound of a nerve stimulus. But the further inference from the nerve stimulus to a cause outside of us is already the result of a false and unjustifiable application of the principle of sufficient reason. If truth alone had been the deciding factor in the genesis of language, and if the standpoint of certainty had been decisive for designations, then how could we still dare to say “the stone is hard,” as if “hard” were something otherwise familiar to us, and not merely a totally subjective stimulation! We separate things according to gender, designating the tree as masculine and the plant as feminine. What arbitrary assignments! How far this oversteps the canons of certainty! We speak of a “snake”: this designation touches only upon its ability to twist itself and could therefore also fit a worm. What arbitrary differentiations! What one-sided preferences, first for this, then for that property of a thing!
The various languages placed side by side show that with words it is never a question of truth, never a question of adequate expression; otherwise, there would not be so many languages. The “thing in itself” (which is precisely what the pure truth, apart from any of its consequences, would be) is likewise something quite incomprehensible to the creator of language and something not in the least worth striving for. This creator only designates the relations of things to men, and for expressing these relations he lays hold of the boldest metaphors. To begin with, a nerve stimulus is transferred into an image: first metaphor. The image, in turn, is imitated in a sound: second metaphor. And each time there is a complete overleaping of one sphere, right into the middle of an entirely new and different one. One can imagine a man who is totally deaf and has never had a sensation of sound and music. Perhaps such a person will gaze with astonishment at Chladni’s sound figures; perhaps he will discover their causes in the vibrations of the string and will now swear that he must know what men mean by “sound.”
It is this way with all of us concerning language; we believe that we know something about the things themselves when we speak of trees, colors, snow, and flowers; and yet we possess nothing but metaphors for things — metaphors which correspond in no way to the original entities. In the same way that the sound appears as a sand figure, so the mysterious X of the thing in itself first appears as a nerve stimulus, then as an image, and finally as a sound. Thus the genesis of language does not proceed logically in any case, and all the material within and with which the man of truth, the scientist, and the philosopher later work and build, if not derived from never-never land, is a least not derived from the essence of things. In particular, let us further consider the formation of concepts. Every word instantly becomes a concept precisely insofar as it is not supposed to serve as a reminder of the unique and entirely individual original experience to which it owes its origin; but rather, a word becomes a concept insofar as it simultaneously has to fit countless more or less similar cases — which means, purely and simply, cases which are never equal and thus altogether unequal. Every concept arises from the equation of unequal things.
Just as it is certain that one leaf is never totally the same as another, so it is certain that the concept “leaf” is formed by arbitrarily discarding these individual differences and by forgetting the distinguishing aspects. This awakens the idea that, in addition to the leaves, there exists in nature the “leaf”: the original model according to which all the leaves were perhaps woven, sketched, measured, colored, curled, and painted — but by incompetent hands, so that no specimen has turned out to be a correct, trustworthy, and faithful likeness of the original model. We call a person “honest,” and then we ask “why has he behaved so honestly today?” Our usual answer is, “on account of his honesty.” Honesty! This in turn means that the leaf is the cause of the leaves. We know nothing whatsoever about an essential quality called “honesty”; but we do know of countless individualized and consequently unequal actions which we equate by omitting the aspects in which they are unequal and which we now designate as “honest” actions.
Finally we formulate from them a qualities occulta which has the name “honesty.” We obtain the concept, as we do the form, by overlooking what is individual and actual; whereas nature is acquainted with no forms and no concepts, and likewise with no species, but only with an X which remains inaccessible and undefinable for us. For even our contrast between individual and species is something anthropomorphic and does not originate in the essence of things; although we should not presume to claim that this contrast does not correspond o the essence of things: that would of course be a dogmatic assertion and, as such, would be just as indemonstrable as its opposite.
What then is truth? A movable host of metaphors, metonymies, and; anthropomorphisms: in short, a sum of human relations which have been poetically and rhetorically intensified, transferred, and embellished, and which, after long usage, seem to a people to be fixed, canonical, and binding. Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions- they are metaphors that have become worn out and have been drained of sensuous force, coins which have lost their embossing and are now considered as metal and no longer as coins.
We still do not yet know where the drive for truth comes from. For so far we have heard only of the duty which society imposes in order to exist: to be truthful means to employ the usual metaphors. Thus, to express it morally, this is the duty to lie according to a fixed convention, to lie with the herd and in a manner binding upon everyone. Now man of course forgets that this is the way things stand for him. Thus he lies in the manner indicated, unconsciously and in accordance with habits which are centuries’ old; and precisely by means of this unconsciousness and forgetfulness he arrives at his sense of truth. From the sense that one is obliged to designate one thing as “red,” another as “cold,” and a third as “mute,” there arises a moral impulse in regard to truth. The venerability, reliability, and utility of truth is something which a person demonstrates for himself from the contrast with the liar, whom no one trusts and everyone excludes.
As a “rational” being, he now places his behavior under the control of abstractions. He will no longer tolerate being carried away by sudden impressions, by intuitions. First he universalizes all these impressions into less colorful, cooler concepts, so that he can entrust the guidance of his life and conduct to them. Everything which distinguishes man from the animals depends upon this ability to volatilize perceptual metaphors in a schema, and thus to dissolve an image into a concept. For something is possible in the realm of these schemata which could never be achieved with the vivid first impressions: the construction of a pyramidal order according to castes and degrees, the creation of a new world of laws, privileges, subordinations, and clearly marked boundaries-a new world, one which now confronts that other vivid world of first impressions as more solid, more universal, better known, and more human than the immediately perceived world, and thus as the regulative and imperative world.
Whereas each perceptual metaphor is individual and without equals and is therefore able to elude all classification, the great edifice of concepts displays the rigid regularity of a Roman columbarium and exhales in logic that strength and coolness which is characteristic of mathematics. Anyone who has felt this cool breath [of logic] will hardly believe that even the concept — which is as bony, foursquare, and transposable as a die — is nevertheless merely the residue of a metaphor, and that the illusion which is involved in the artistic transference of a nerve stimulus into images is, if not the mother, then the grandmother of every single concept. But in this conceptual crap game “truth” means using every die in the designated manner, counting its spots accurately, fashioning the right categories, and never violating the order of caste and class rank.
Just as the Romans and Etruscans cut up the heavens with rigid mathematical lines and confined a god within each of the spaces thereby delimited, as within a templum, so every people has a similarly mathematically divided conceptual heaven above themselves and henceforth thinks that truth demands that each conceptual god be sought only within his own sphere. Here one may certainly admire man as a mighty genius of construction, who succeeds in piling an infinitely complicated dome of concepts upon an unstable foundation, and, as it were, on running water. Of course, in order to be supported by such a foundation, his construction must be like one constructed of spiders’ webs: delicate enough to be carried along by the waves, strong enough not to be blown apart by every wind.
As a genius of construction man raises himself far above the bee in the following way: whereas the bee builds with wax that he gathers from nature, man builds with the far more delicate conceptual material which he first has to manufacture from himself. In this he is greatly to be admired, but not on account of his drive for truth or for pure knowledge of things. When someone hides something behind a bush and looks for it again in the same place and finds it there as well, there is not much to praise in such seeking and finding. Yet this is how matters stand regarding seeking and finding “truth” within the realm of reason. If I make up the definition of a mammal, and then, after inspecting a camel, declare “look, a mammal” I have indeed brought a truth to light in this way, but it is a truth of limited value. That is to say, it is a thoroughly anthropomorphic truth which contains not a single point which would be “true in itself” or really and universally valid apart from man.
At bottom, what the investigator of such truths is seeking is only the metamorphosis of the world into man. He strives to understand the world as something analogous to man, and at best he achieves by his struggles the feeling of assimilation. Similar to the way in which astrologers considered the stars to be in man’s service and connected with his happiness and sorrow, such an investigator considers the entire universe in connection with man: the entire universe as the infinitely fractured echo of one original sound-man; the entire universe as the infinitely multiplied copy of one original picture-man. His method is to treat man as the measure of all things, but in doing so he again proceeds from the error of believing that he has these things [which he intends to measure] immediately before him as mere objects. He forgets that the original perceptual metaphors are metaphors and takes them to be the things themselves. Only by forgetting this primitive world of metaphor can one live with any repose, security, and consistency: only by means of the petrification and coagulation of a mass of images which originally streamed from the primal faculty of human imagination like a fiery liquid, only in the invincible faith in this sun, this window, this table is a truth in itself, in short, only by forgetting that he himself is an artistically creative subject, does man live with any repose, security, and consistency.
If but for an instant he could escape from the prison walls of this faith, his “self consciousness” would be immediately destroyed. It is even a difficult thing for him to admit to himself that the insect or the bird perceives an entirely different world from the one that man does, and that the question of which of these perceptions of the world is the more correct one is quite meaningless, for this would have to have been decided previously in accordance with the criterion of the correct perception, which means, in accordance with a criterion which is not available. But in any case it seems to me that “the correct perception” — which would mean “the adequate expression of an object in the subject” — is a contradictory impossibility.
For between two absolutely different spheres, as between subject and object, there is no causality, no correctness, and no expression; there is, at most, an aesthetic relation: I mean a suggestive transference, a stammering translation into a completely foreign tongue — for which there is required, in any case, a freely inventive intermediate sphere and mediating force. “Appearance” is a word that contains many temptations, which is why I avoid it as much as possible. For it is not true that the essence of things “appears” in the empirical world. A painter without hands who wished to express in song the picture before his mind would, by means of this substitution of spheres, still reveal more about the essence of things than does the empirical world. Even the relationship of a nerve stimulus to the generated image is not a necessary one.
But when the same image has been generated millions of times and has been handed down for many generations and finally appears on the same occasion every time for all mankind, then it acquires at last the same meaning for men it would have if it were the sole necessary image and if the relationship of the original nerve stimulus to the generated image were a strictly causal one. In the same manner, an eternally repeated dream would certainly be felt and judged to be reality. But the hardening and congealing of a metaphor guarantees absolutely nothing concerning its necessity and exclusive justification.
Every person who is familiar with such considerations has no doubt felt a deep mistrust of all idealism of this sort: just as often as he has quite early convinced himself of the eternal consistency, omnipresence, and fallibility of the laws of nature. He has concluded that so far as we can penetrate here — from the telescopic heights to the microscopic depths — everything is secure, complete, infinite, regular, and without any gaps. Science will be able to dig successfully in this shaft forever, and the things that are discovered will harmonize with and not contradict each other. How little does this resemble a product of the imagination, for if it were such, there should be some place where the illusion and reality can be divined.
Against this, the following must be said: if each us had a different kind of sense perception — if we could only perceive things now as a bird, now as a worm, now as a plant, or if one of us saw a stimulus as red, another as blue, while a third even heard the same stimulus as a sound — then no one would speak of such a regularity of nature, rather, nature would be grasped only as a creation which is subjective in the highest degree. After all, what is a law of nature as such for us? We are not acquainted with it in itself, but only with its effects, which means in its relation to other laws of nature — which, in turn, are known to us only as sums of relations. Therefore all these relations always refer again to others and are thoroughly incomprehensible to us in their essence.
All that we actually know about these laws of nature is what we ourselves bring to them — time and space, and therefore relationships of succession and number. But everything marvelous about the laws of nature, everything that quite astonishes us therein and seems to demand explanation, everything that might lead us to distrust idealism: all this is completely and solely contained within the mathematical strictness and inviolability of our representations of time and space. But we produce these representations in and from ourselves with the same necessity with which the spider spins. If we are forced to comprehend all things only under these forms, then it ceases to be amazing that in all things we actually comprehend nothing but these forms. For they must all bear within themselves the laws of number, and it is precisely number which is most astonishing in things. All that conformity to law, which impresses us so much in the movement of the stars and in chemical processes, coincides at bottom with those properties which we bring to things. Thus it is we who impress ourselves in this way. In conjunction with this, it of course follows that the artistic process of metaphor formation with which every sensation begins in us already presupposes these forms and thus occurs within them. The only way in which the possibility of subsequently constructing a new conceptual edifice from metaphors themselves can be explained is by the firm persistence of these original forms.
That is to say: this conceptual edifice is an imitation of temporal, spatial, and numerical relationships in the domain of metaphor.
We have seen how it is originally language which works on the construction of concepts, a labor taken over in later ages by science.
Just as the bee simultaneously constructs cells and fills them with honey, so science works unceasingly on this great columbarium of concepts, the graveyard of perceptions. It is always building new, higher stories and shoring up, cleaning, and renovating the old cells; above all, it takes pains to fill up this monstrously towering framework and to arrange therein the entire empirical world, which is to say, the anthropomorphic world. Whereas the man of action binds his life to reason and its concepts so that he will not be swept away and lost, the scientific investigator builds his hut right next to the tower of science so that he will be able to work on it and to find shelter for himself beneath those bulwarks which presently exist. And he requires shelter, for there are frightful powers which continuously break in upon him, powers which oppose scientific “truth” with completely different kinds of “truths” which bear on their shields the most varied sorts of emblems. The drive toward the formation of metaphors is the fundamental human drive, which one cannot for a single instant dispense with in thought, for one would thereby dispense with man himself.
This drive is not truly vanquished and scarcely subdued by the fact that a regular and rigid new world is constructed as its prison from its own ephemeral products, the concepts. It seeks a new realm and another channel for its activity, and it finds this myth and in art generally. This drive continually confuses the conceptual categories and cells by bringing forward new transferences, metaphors, and metonymies. It continually manifests an ardent desire to refashion the world which presents itself to waking man, so that it will be as colorful, irregular, lacking in results and coherence, charming, and eternally new as the world of dreams. Indeed, it is only by means of the rigid and regular web of concepts that the waking man clearly sees that he is awake; and it is precisely because of this that he sometimes thinks that he must be dreaming when this web of concepts is torn by art.
Pascal is right in maintaining that if the same dream came to us every night we would be just as occupied with it as we are with the things that we see every day. “If a workman were sure to dream for twelve straight hours every night that he was king,” said Pascal, “I believe that he would be just as happy as a king who dreamt for twelve hours every night that he was a workman. In fact, because of the way that myth takes it for granted that miracles are always happening, the waking life of a mythically inspired people — the ancient Greeks, for instance — more closely resembles a dream than it does the waking world of a scientifically disenchanted thinker. When every tree can suddenly speak as a nymph, when a god in the shape of a bull can drag away maidens, when even the goddess Athena herself is suddenly seen in the company of Peisastratus driving through the market place of Athens with a beautiful team of horses — and this is what the honest Athenian believed — then, as in a dream, anything is possible at each moment, and all of nature swarms around man as if it were nothing but a masquerade of the gods, who were merely amusing themselves by deceiving men in all these shapes.
But man has an invincible inclination to allow himself to be deceived and is, as it were, enchanted with happiness when the rhapsodist tells him epic fables as if they were true, or when the actor in the theater acts more royally than any real king. So long as it is able to deceive without injuring, that master of deception, the intellect, is free; it is released from its former slavery and celebrates its Saturnalia. It is never more luxuriant, richer, prouder, more clever and more daring. With creative pleasure it throws metaphors into confusion and displaces the boundary stones of abstractions, so that, for example, it designates the stream as “the moving path which carries man where he would otherwise walk.” The intellect has now thrown the token of bondage from itself.
At other times it endeavors, with gloomy officiousness, to show the way and to demonstrate the tools to a poor individual who covets existence; it is like a servant who goes in search of booty and prey for his master. But now it has become the master and it dares to wipe from its face the expression of indigence. In comparison with its previous conduct, everything that it now does bears the mark of dissimulation, just as that previous conduct did of distortion. The free intellect copies human life, but it considers this life to be something good and seems to be quite satisfied with it. That immense framework and planking of concepts to which the needy man clings his whole life long in order to preserve himself is nothing but a scaffolding and toy for the most audacious feats of the liberated intellect. And when it smashes this framework to pieces, throws it into confusion, and puts it back together in an ironic fashion, pairing the most alien things and separating the closest, it is demonstrating that it has no need of these makeshifts of indigence and that it will now be guided by intuitions rather than by concepts.
There is no regular path which leads from these intuitions into the land of ghostly schemata, the land of abstractions. There exists no word for these intuitions; when man sees them he grows dumb, or else he speaks only in forbidden metaphors and in unheard-of combinations of concepts. He does this so that by shattering and mocking the old conceptual barriers he may at least correspond creatively to the impression of the powerful present intuition.
There are ages in which the rational man and the intuitive man stand side by side, the one in fear of intuition, the other with scorn for abstraction. The latter is just as irrational as the former is inartistic. They both desire to rule over life: the former, by knowing how to meet his principle needs by means of foresight, prudence, and regularity; the latter, by disregarding these needs and, as an “overjoyed hero,” counting as real only that life which has been disguised as illusion and beauty. Whenever, as was perhaps the case in ancient Greece, the intuitive man handles his weapons more authoritatively and victoriously than his opponent, then, under favorable circumstances, a culture can take shape and art’s mastery over life can be established. All the manifestations of such a life will be accompanied by this dissimulation, this disavowal of indigence, this glitter of metaphorical intuitions, and, in general, this immediacy of deception: neither the house, nor the gait, nor the clothes, nor the clay jugs give evidence of having been invented because of a pressing need.
It seems as if they were all intended to express an exalted happiness, an Olympian cloudlessness, and, as it were, a playing with seriousness. The man who is guided by concepts and abstractions only succeeds by such means in warding off misfortune, without ever gaining any happiness for himself from these abstractions. And while he aims for the greatest possible freedom from pain, the intuitive man, standing in the midst of a culture, already reaps from his intuition a harvest of continually inflowing illumination, cheer, and redemption-in addition to obtaining a defense against misfortune. To be sure, he suffers more intensely, when he suffers; he even suffers more frequently, since he does not understand how to learn from experience and keeps falling over and over again into the same ditch. He is then just as irrational in sorrow as he is in happiness: he cries aloud and will not be consoled. How differently the stoical man who learns from experience and governs himself by concepts is affected by the same misfortunes!
This man, who at other times seeks nothing but sincerity, truth, freedom from deception, and protection against ensnaring surprise attacks, now executes a masterpiece of deception: he executes his masterpiece of deception in misfortune, as the other type of man executes his in times of happiness. He wears no quivering and changeable human face, but, as it were, a mask with dignified, symmetrical features. He does not cry; he does not even alter his voice. When a real storm cloud thunders above him, he wraps himself in his cloak, and with slow steps he walks from beneath it.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
Theodor Herzl (1860 – 1904) was first a lawyer, then a journalist, and finally, a political leader. It was as if the blindness of the law inspired him to notice conditions in his world, and eventually, to apply the skills of lawmaking to create situations where such conditions did not arise.
Born in Budapest to a German-speaking family from Serbia, he moved with his family to Vienna at age 18, eventually getting a law degree from the University of Vienna. After less than a year of working in law, Herzl became a journalist and writer, gaining most renown as a correspondent and later literary editor for the Neue Freie Presse in Paris.
Although he came from a secular background, and was educated in the spirit of German-Jewish Enlightenment of the period, his grandfather had been a friend of Rabbi Yehudah Alkalai, a proto-Zionist of an earlier generation. As a young adult, Herzl worked for a Burschenschaft association, which strove for German unity under the motto Ehre, Freiheit, Vaterland (“Honor, Freedom, Fatherland”), and was an avowed atheist.
With the eye of a journalist, he considered the “Jewish problem” a social issue like any other, and wrote an early play, The Ghetto (1894), which rejected assimilation and conversion as solutions for the Jewish people. The following year, his opinions changed when he heard a crowd shouting “Death to the Jews!” in the aftermath of the Dreyfuss Affair, in which a French-Jewish military officer was accused of treason. This changed his outlook from one of Jewish independence to one of Jewish nationalism.
In June of that year, he wrote in his diary: “In Paris, as I have said, I achieved a freer attitude toward anti-Semitism… Above all, I recognized the emptiness and futility of trying to ‘combat’ anti-Semitism.” He came to consider the idea of Jewish sovereignty as a political response to what he saw as an international political problem, which was a lack of national identity for the Jewish people causing them to be perceived as enemies of other nations, and saw the solution as the creation of a Jewish state with the consent of the great powers.
As a result, in 1896 he published Der Judenstaat, a pamphlet-length work in which he argued for the creation of a Jewish state. Der Judenstaat was a title that punned on the Judenstrasse of medieval times, which was a street or ghetto to which Jews were relegated.
In Der Judenstaat he wrote:
“The Jewish question persists wherever Jews live in appreciable numbers. Wherever it does not exist, it is brought in together with Jewish immigrants. We are naturally drawn into those places where we are not persecuted, and our appearance there gives rise to persecution. This is the case, and will inevitably be so, everywhere, even in highly civilised countries—see, for instance, France—so long as the Jewish question is not solved on the political level. The unfortunate Jews are now carrying the seeds of anti-Semitism into England; they have already introduced it into America.”
Herzl believed that Jews could never assimilate, as the majority in each nation-state determined who was native, and by exclusion, Jews would be seen as alien. To end this permanent outsider status for world Jewry, he proposed that Jews have a nation of their own, to the benefit of Jews and Gentiles alike. His vision of this state corresponded to the modern pluralistic, tolerant democracy, which he described in a later novel, Altneuland (“Old New Land”) published in 1902, which depicted a Jewish social utopia in Palestine.
Although he did not live to see his vision completed, he was able to create the First Zionist Congress in Basle, Switzerland in 1897 and from the forces there joined, found numerous Zionist organizations: the newspaper Die Welt, the Jewish National Fund and The Jewish Colonial Trust. Afflicted with pneumonia, Herzl died in 1904.
Saturday, September 26th, 2009
Allegedly, Theodore Kaczynski, a noted mathematician at Berkeley during the 1960s, was the man the FBI codenamed “UNABOM” who killed three people and wounded 23 since 1978 using mail bombs and other handmade, untraceable explosive devices. He was only caught when his brother turned him in after the publication fo the “UNABOM/FC Manifesto” in major American papers; they only conceded to the deal when the unabomber offered to stop blowing people up if his words were published.
His first bombing was in 1978, at Northwestern University; it was unsuccessful. Many bombings followed, targetting engineering/math/science professors, logging company CEOs, airline executives, technological advocate writers and other propagandists for industry. The FBI declared him one of America’s most dangerous domestic terrorists.
Although the FBI profile did not fit the Ted Kaczynski, he remains the primary suspect. Growing up in suburban Chicago, he was a baby born during the last half of WWII. His abilities in mathematics and scholastic pursuits were visible early, and Ted graduated high school at age sixteen and packed off to Harvard University. From there he went to the University of Michigan, where he got his PhD in mathematics, and then took a job at the University of California, Berkeley, as an assistant professor of mathematics. Two years later, he suddenly dropped out and headed to a cabin in Montana, equally disgusted by industrial society as he was by the leftist political dogma that in his mind replaced effective action.
“Oversocialization can lead to low self-esteem, a sense of powerlessness, defeatism, guilt, etc. One of the most important means by which our society socializes children is by making them feel ashamed of behavior or speech that is contrary to society’s expectations. If this is overdone, or if a particular child is especially susceptible to such feelings, he ends by feeling ashamed of HIMSELF…”
“Leftists tend to hate anything that has an image of being strong, good and successful. They hate America, they hate Western civilization, they hate white males, they hate rationality. .. [they hate] America and the West because they are strong and successful…”
“We use the term ‘surrogate activity’ to designate an activity that is directed toward an artificial goal that people set up for themselves merely in order to have some goal to work toward, or let us say, merely for the sake of the “fulfillment” that they get from pursuing the goal. Here is a rule of thumb for the identification of surrogate activities. Given a person who devotes much time and energy to the pursuit of goal X, ask yourself this: If he had to devote most of his time and energy to satisfying his biological needs, and if that effort required him to use his physical and mental faculties in a varied and interesting way, would he feel seriously deprived because he did not attain goal X? If the answer is no, then the person’s pursuit of goal X is a surrogate activity. …”
“The leftist is oriented toward largescale collectivism. He emphasizes the duty of the individual to serve society and the duty of society to take care of the individual. He has a negative attitude toward individualism. He often takes a moralistic tone. He tends to be for gun control, for sex education and other psychologically “enlightened” educational methods, for planning, for affirmative action, for multiculturalism. He tends to identify with victims. He tends to be against competition and against violence, but he often finds excuses for those leftists who do commit violence. He is fond of using the common catch-phrases of the left like ‘racism, ‘ ‘sexism, ‘ ‘homophobia, ‘ ‘capitalism,’ ‘imperialism,’ ‘neocolonialism ‘ ‘genocide,’ ‘social change,’ ‘social justice,’ ‘social responsibility.’ Maybe the best diagnostic trait of the leftist is his tendency to sympathize with the following movements: feminism, gay rights, ethnic rights, disability rights, animal rights political correctness. Anyone who strongly sympathizes with ALL of these movements is almost certainly a leftist.”
Ted Kaczynski receives over 50 letters a day and takes
the time to respond personally to each.