PHI212 Lecture Three

2014.02.12

NOTE:

·         20 February 2014 MSQ Test 20 Questions

·         Pencil and eraser for the test, come earlier rather than later in order to find yourself a desk.

THE LECTURE:

·        - Descartes aims to differentiate between what is knowledge and what is not, he therefore creates the Method of Doubt in order to do this.

·         - Trademark Argument, was the argument Descartes poses about the existence of God, the idea of perfection, where he proves Gods existence. Descartes believes in a God that is veracious; honest and true. This is in fact the weakness in Descartes argument on the whole.

I don’t really know why I can’t focus in this class, I’m hoping that this method will be more worth my while, maybe keep me awake. I don’t think the fact that I almost couldn’t keep myself from doping up on some painkillers helped, but I do think the fact that I will spend the entire lecture typing might keep me awake. Or might get the attention of the rest of the class, but gosh what do I care what they think anyway, I like the idea that typing more will eventually help my typing speed, but I don’t know if I could actually pay attention to this lecturer and type at the same time. Right now, it’s pretty silent because he’s struggling to make his projector work, I’m writing a test next week and what I hate is that I’m nervous about it, because the first time in ages, I actually have to give a shit and study for something. For two reasons, both of which have nothing and everything to do with my own well-being, for one it’s going to make my dad really happy if I ace the two subjects I’m doing this semester, but on the other hand, acing it would put me on a good footing in terms of getting my dad to start saving so that I can spend my December holidays with Dain in New York when he goes to school there.

·      - Descartes believes that in his idea of his ‘self’ there is an idea of perfection, and this perfection is in fact divine. He believes that he is a soul, he is a mind, and he thinks. Descartes aims to find a foundation for human knowledge, and by proving the existence of God, he believes he has found this foundation. 

·      - The idea of this ‘self’ and its perfection must have a cause, and this cause must be at least as real as the idea of perfection, and therefore, the cause itself must be perfect in itself, and that could only be God.

I sometimes wish I could stupidly believe, and I hate that to some extent I think that there are things that people should not ask questions about. My brother would be very unhappy with me saying that, being a budding philosopher, he goes out of his way to question as much as he can, and here I’m thinking that we should just accept, appreciate and live in this world. Maybe asking the questions, helps enhance the experience, helps to better it, but sometimes, when we receive the answers, they sort of damn us. That’s the thing about knowledge and thought, I sometimes wish I’d never started asking questions, that I could remain completely in ignorant bliss, but instead I’m stuck with knowledge, and a certain kind of truth as to how sick and broken this world really is.

 
- Descartes believes that God has left this idea of perfection, and a perfect and divine cause, in Descartes mind as a mark of his workmanship. He also believes that the Evil Demon, who aims to deceive him, and stop him from reaching true knowledge, has been defeated by this divine power.

- This God is truthful rather than deceptive, as the Evil Demon is. 
  
- Sometimes, one is able to make use of deception in order to create perfection, Prof Abrahams makes use of the example of Lionel Messi, who fakes left but then goes right in order to then create the perfect goal, this is an example of a deception that leads to perfection.

He talks a lot, this Professor, but this way it seems a bit more interesting, I mean it’s better to have all my thoughts coming out of me, instead of swirling around my head and eventually making me so drowsy I fall asleep. He just spoke about a soccer player for Liverpool called St. John, I don’t really know what the point was, maybe it was just some joke he threw in for comic relief. This is another thing about philosophy lecturers, their jokes, its so intellectually higher grade that usually the class find themselves staring back at them; baffled, or confused rather, because they tell these jokes and then carry on their merry way, as if they never had. Unless, it’s my other Professor, Prof Beck, who giggles at every joke he tells, usually nudging those around him into the realm of his joke, maybe it comes from a life time of people not getting his jokes.

CRITICISM

·         - Theological objection; humanity has no idea, cannot in fact fathom, the perfection of God.

Note: Read “Think” and figure out whether or not Descartes aims to fathom the idea of God, or rather just uses God as his cause, and leaves it at that. But maybe in attempting to place God as the cause, Descartes is by default trying to fathom God.

·        -  Must Descartes idea of perfection necessarily have a cause? Can events not just take place?

-       In his solipsistic position, can there be anything that can be a cause of his idea?

-       If yes, then the demon might be deceiving him.

-       If no, then the argument fails right there.

·         

      - Does ones idea of ‘punctuality’ actually have to be cause by someone who is perfectly punctual? This idea is a metaphor, stemming from the question of whether or not it is entirely necessary to have to know what perfection is, in order to define something as perfect, or could we rather just use our own perception.

Note: But if we are using our own perception in order to define what is perfect, aren’t we once again falling into the trap of the Evil Demon, who is able to deceive us. We learn things, and form our perceptions from our senses, our senses that could be deceived.

·         

            -  The preferred analogy then goes on to speak about the perfect mathematician.

-       Someone who never makes mistakes

-       Someone who is creative and inventive

Note: But then how is it that this mathematician learnt to be this way? Isn’t it plausible that the perfect mathematician would be one who does make mistakes, in order to learn from them and recreate formulae? And are mathematicians creative at all, that the work they learn, are simply subjects of logic and reasoning that they haven’t imposed but rather learned from the world.

I can’t ask the questions I want to, because I don’t know if they actually make enough sense, this is why I need to read before I come to these classes. I reckon I do somehow need to find these answers on my own instead though, in order to formulate my own opinions, for when the essay writing eventually comes. Blind faith, but visible truth is what I see Christianity as. I believe that  I will never in fact lay eyes on God, but I do see him in everything around me, as He is and was always everything in this world, He has created everything. I want people to believe that, to stop the trying to break apart each aspect, and just believe, that He is. I understand though, that faith needs to come with foundation, but once again that’s another thing my brother and I disagree on, he says that he doesn’t agree with people when they say that God has no rules, no borders, that God and religion comes with constructions and purpose. I believe in the purpose, but the idea of creating a perimeter for my Almighty seems pretty strange to me, I don’t like the idea that He is fathomable, because He is not. Every time I finish writing and look up, Prof Koosie is saying the same thing, as if repeating it will get people to understand “Descartes believed that God would not make him believe anything defective”. I understand this, but can’t we allow ourselves to believe that just like the deception in order to create perception, God has created things that deceive us in order to teach us and then deliver us to a state of higher grace? This isn’t actually a spiritual argument, but how do I stem away from my Christianity when I’m trying to understand this perfection that Descartes calls God. Fuck, what am I saying, I wouldn’t be able to understand God in anyway.

I asked the questions, periods done, I’m buggering off.

Over The Love of You

I’m going to attempt to do this, so bear with me. Firstly, I’d like to say that I’m learning the notion of doing this, of speaking openly and honestly about me on a forum so open, from someone I believe to be one of the bravest people I know. You’re fearless, you’re a writer and a phenomenon, and I’m privileged to know you, to have you as a friend. 

Anyway.

I didn’t want to write about her, because to some extent I am a hypocrite, I preach you only live once, and yet I love as if I could redo this life. I want to speak about love, I always speak about love, I know, but I have this appreciation and profound befuddlement at the idea. Love. The heart wrenching ripping, tears streaming yet heart smiling, gleeful yet painful, disorganized yet perfectly clear notion. To know you’re in love, to feel it when you see someone, and know that your world has settled into a perfectly organized structure, is scary but it should be faced. Yet, I find myself unable to face the idea of being in love, not again, not when I have been certain so many times and had my heart crumble because I don’t know how to love myself, yet insist on loving others. There’s another confession, I love, but I cannot love myself.

From previous entries, you’ve read that I might love myself, that I found myself faced with the profound concept of the Almighty, and fell to my knees at the face of His love. Yet, I find myself coming back to who I truly am, a wreck. I’m bad at explaining myself, but I’m brilliant at listening. Tell me about yourself? How are you? Are you Okay? These are the questions I ask people so many times, almost demanding a straight real and honest answer, a question that I find myself so often avoiding. To a certain extent, I cannot feel wholly good about the fact that I want to listen to people, comfort and guide them, when it feels as if it is coming from a selfish place, I do it to escape myself.

Are we ever ready for Love? That’s a question I don’t have an answer to, maybe one of the many questions I’m asking myself these days, along with many others like Who are you? What are you going to do? How will you get out of this? By this, I mean my own mind; a place so infested with dark corridors, that light seems like something absurd most days. How could you be ready for love when trying to understand why anyone would love you, seems like the most ridiculous thing in the world. I am not ready to be Loved. I know that, no, I haven’t answered the question, I don’t know if I’m making excuses or if it is the answer, that I don’t know if I can accept someone loving me, if I don’t love myself.

In truth, I hope she never reads this, because I love her enough to know that she deserves to love someone who understands it, who revels in it, instead of shrinking away at the idea of the warm and fuzzy. I love her enough, to let her love someone other than me. I’ve heard that this is being selfish, that I shouldn’t make decisions for other people, but I’m making a decision for myself, that I shall not put another person through the pain of loving me, the pain of loving someone who doesn’t know it.

You should love, you have no choice, none of us do but you should also be willing to accept that someone loves you first, because without that, it is just a one sided phone call across the Atlantic with really bad cell phone reception. Painful.

Katie Melua, Malboro Red and Love

It’s difficult to write, when you have no idea what it is you want to say. It’s actually quite silly that it’s an on-going circle, you want to write to understand yourself, but can’t write because you don’t. So the key I think, is for me to stop procrastinating, and just, start. I’ve even made a writing playlist, if I’m truthful it really is only all the sad songs on my phone that will put me in the proper head space to actually explain myself. I’m going to light a cigarette now. There, now I feel like the tormented writer I am, Katie Melua and Malboro Red to get me literate.

I’ve heard over and over again, how people only call upon God in their hour of need, I feel like I am completely opposite to that, both in prayer and in terms of writing. In my hour of need, usually it isn’t just an hour, rather it’s a long period of time that feels like a life time, I find myself shying away from things that make me face myself. I’m more likely to face myself when I’m happy, when there are good things to trip on. I’ve been drinking a lot, dancing a lot and kissing a lot, in order to rid myself of myself, but here’s what I’m trying to do, what we all should, just like Dain told me tonight, accept who I am.

You know about me, you’ve read my stuff, but there’s another component to me, one that I shy away from people because the idea of them seeing me, truly seeing me, frightens me so much. I spend a lot of my time, trying to figure this life out, what I’m doing here in fact. I’m very dark a lot of the time, but that part of me is hard to explain, you see – I have no intention of making it out to be that because I have God in my life, everything is fine and dandy, maybe subconsciously this is what I was doing by shying away from this for so long. But it is that, the fact that I have God in my life, that it is time for me to understand what I am and the fact that I, perceive myself to be someone broken and tormented by the people I’ve scared, the hearts I’ve broken and the minds I’ve poisoned.

You wouldn’t see it as poisoning minds, in fact I dare to say that those I have poisoned don’t think so either, but I feel like I have. I have given people, this notion of love that is never ending and everlasting, perfect and blissful and then taken it away, because in the end I realize how much I don't feel loved myself. That never was their fault though, I couldn't feel what I couldn't understand. I showed them this perfect love and romance, but in fact, even though I believe it exists out there, it wasn't real with us. I’m sorry to say that now, especially if one of them were to read that, but to me, I was giving them the love I thought they deserved, that everyone deserved but in fact I was robbing them, robbing them of what was real.

I have lived my life for a long time as if I was a character in a book, saying the right thing, doing the right thing, making the right gestures, and kissing the right way. I don’t even mean it metaphorically, I literally sit and plan out and write in my head, or tell myself the story as I say what I say, or do what I do. I was a liar and I hate liars. The thing about losing yourself to so many characters, is that along the way, you lose yourself completely. I no longer know who I actually am, whether what I feel or say is real, or if I’ve said something just because it is precisely what has to be said. You’d think it were absurd for someone to be so sure of themselves, but you’ve never been with me, or had a conversation with me, I’m just that good; that good at manipulation and that good of a writer and actress.

I don’t mean to say I don’t care for them; the people I have been with, that I’ve told I love you too. They know that I carry the guilt of their pain I caused with me for the rest of my life, that now I am connected to them and would do anything for them because I’ve done something so inconceivable, and they all deserved better. One of my exes once told me that I sold her a fairy tale, that that’s what I did, I sold a fairy tale that didn’t exist. And that hit me, because yes I do sell a fairy tale, but I’d left her not believing in its existence. And it does exist.

All in all, I am sorry to all those I’ve poisoned, and I pray they will find love, real true and honest love.

What are you doing with your life?

What are you doing with your life?

What. Are. You. Doing. With. Your. Life.

I don't mean it in the way we usually answer that question, I'm not asking where you study, work or party. I'm asking you in the literal but reflective sense.

If the immediate to reaction that question is where we work, study or play, if we allow ourselves to take the profound miracle of our lives, and place it into that one simple dimension. Then I believe that we really have something to worry about.

What are you doing with your life?

Could be a question placed into present and future context. I want you to think about them in both. Currently, yes you may be studying - but is that really all you are? And all you have to offer, yourself and others? We have no idea what we could do in the future, but somehow, with crayons and coloring books went our ability to dream. Will you change the world with your life, or will you be just another Sally? What are you going to do with the miracle you've received, with the light in you and with the oxygen in your lungs. Will you be selfish and live only for yourself, or will you change the lives of others by infecting them with your passion? Will you wait for a leader to follow, or will you take the risk of getting up and taking the first step?

We have no way of telling what might happen, today or tomorrow. We know what we've accomplished in the past, we should learn from it, but not dwell on it - rather look forward into what we could be, where we could go, and the wonders we could do.

Now, what are you doing with your life?

Think before you talk

How aware are you of your thoughts? How often do you truly allow yourself to take a moment for true inspection and reflection of your own inner dimensions? The many parts that make you up, the feelings you feel and the urges that drive you to act as you do?

We would never be able to fully understand ourselves, as most of who we are is purely subconscious. But then, if most of us is subconscious, how could we truly believe that we truly have any control over ourselves? If you don't know or understand the deepest part of yourself, the part that makes you feel as you do, or act as you do. 

I oft find myself thinking how I could truly be one person, physically obviously - but mentally? If I'm so often two minded about things. Who is that other voice inside my head that goes against, or disagrees with certain things I do or say? My conscience, that's what religion says, that the voice you hear inside your head is your conscience. But are we our conscience, or is it a entirely separate entity from ourselves? Since we have no control over it? Or rather another aspect of ourselves. I think the human mind is pretty profound if we are able to have two views of the same thing, but some would probably call that nuts. 

For a long time, and even now, I find myself constantly fighting with myself, because inwardly I feel like I'm a bitch. But I'm constantly fighting with that part of myself, the part that is willing to crush hopes and dreams, and tell people things they don't really need to hear, but just because it comes to mind. Things that hurt. I don't, well sometimes I do, but I try not to? Blurt out everything that comes to my mind. Because I want to be better. 

I don't want to believe that everyone has the root of evil; that that's what humanity is, we're just tainted by society, by our ancestors, by the need to be defensive and rude. Do put up walls, instead of opening doors? To be ruthless instead of vulnerable? Why is being a good person something that's an effort, not something that is natural and effortless?

I'm asking a lot of questions because I'm thinking, you know? Battling with myself, my ideologies, what I want to be, and what I am seen as. 

I just want to think before I talk. 

him

The hardest time for me to write I realized, is when I'm emotional. The words sit in my chest, and they choke me. I feel the letters of all the words; of memories and feelings, lifting up slowly and choking me. Holding me there in a tight vise grip.

I don't want to speak about him, but it's all that's on my mind right now. He was my rock, and he guided me. I never belonged to her much, but him, he was everything to me. And I love him so much. But he, like her, teaches lessons by squeezing wallets. I don't even know why I'm saying that, because it's not about that. 

Have you ever felt like people were only there for you, and in your life because you're messed up, because you're dark and twisty and bitter and burdened and that makes them feel less bad about themselves? Have you every felt like they're there only when you're broken, because when you're in the process of mending, they feel as if you don't need them anymore. That's what I feel about him right now, that when I was a basket case, I was everything, I was a ticking time bomb and a princess wrapped into one. Now, now because I'm happy, there's nothing anymore. 

Why is it that it's only when people are already broken that we look up, that we help them up and that we're there? 

Why is it that we don't think those who are okay need us, don't need love and kindness?

Why don't we keep people from breaking instead of only getting kicks out of fixing them?

No, I can't say I'll ever stop loving him. And I remember thinking "God why are you making me feel this way?" But I said that He should have his way in my life. And if that's showing me what my relationship with you is truly like, then even though it hurts like hell, there is a reason for it. Maybe I knew all along, and I'm only realizing it. 

Just love everyone, be compassionate and kind, merciful and generous to everyone. Not just those who have blades against their wrists or a madness in their eyes.