Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Let's nail out the big dogs first

SO you think you think you know a little sumthin' sumthin', eh? Let's take a look at that.

Reader, are you familiar with the contradictory nature of "Subjective" vs. "Objective"? I'm going to venture many of you say yes. As well, I will guess that half of you are full of shit. And the other half are full of shit but don't know it yet...so, if you dare, continue to read.

Let's go over the definitions for those of you who are so full of bullshit, you said yes, but don't even know the distinctions between the words.

Subjective: based on or influenced by personal feelings, tastes, or opinions.

Objective: (of a person or their judgment) not influenced by personal feelings or opinions in considering and representing facts.

So, let's clarify. Subjective is a personal interpretation of some form of stimuli to the human brain. You develop thoughts, feelings, opinions, and subjective associations to someTHING. Objective, supposedly, is the recognition of someTHING without associated interpretation of feeling. It simply reflects what is.

How quaint.

I am here to call bullshit, and to explain why nothing, nothing is objective, and you are to blame.

Experiencing reality is intense. In fact, if I gave you 100 years to sit and write all day, everyday, about what constitutes reality, you wouldn't be finished by the end. But let's say that I gave 100 people, 100 years to write whatever they could about it. How would those lists look? What would be on them. Dear reader, it does not take all of you being physicists, psychologist, philosophers, or logisticians to surmise they would all be entirely different. Certainly there would be some shared qualities written down. Reality incorporates life, space, time, etc. But as a whole each list would be drastically different then the next. Why is this? Over 100 years it is not unthinkable to the non-examining mind that these lists would somehow reflect objectivity? True facts of existence? Well, no. And the reason why not comes from your capacity as a living thing.

I told you this wasn't your cup of tea...

In science there is a phenomenal amount of importance placed on the question of How?. How do people and the natural universe function? What makes it so? How do different stimuli respond to each other. To the philosophical, however, I would argue, a great amount of importance is placed on a singularly if not more important question, Why?. Why is curious because it seeks to explain not how something is enacted, but whats the point in the first place? Or, if there is no point, why then did it come into being? The question of Why is the foundation, the fabric of introspection, and the singular mechanism by which one can analyze a phenomenon without looking for a result. You are looking for the phenomenon's origin.

So when examining the topic of the human experience, while How is perfectly well and good in terms of giving us functional analyses of what people do, and what can be done about it, Why remains the everlasting mystery. Why do people choose to do courageous, or terrible things? What objective truth is there in human action. And my argument, dear reader, is that there is none. In fact the entire fabric of the universe is not objective, because you are not capable, inherently, of objectivity.

Who are you? That is a very good question. What does it mean to be human? What is love? What is truly good? Again, given 1,000,000 years and 10,000,000 participants no single list would look the same. Why is that? Why can't anyone of these humans seem to get on the same page? If we all agree gravity exists, and blood runs through our veins, what stops us from linking up on all other facets of the human experience. The answer is just that, the experience.

Instead of asking How you experience, first, why not ask, why you experience?

When do you become you?

Sitting in your mother's womb, you may be inherently aware of some things, yet life, as we know it, has not quite yet begun. As a raw little baby you are born with more neural pathways, and synapses than you will have at any other time in life. (I'm not going to provide you with an article giving evidence to this, just look it up lazy ass). Now why would that be? So that you might learn of course. But learn what? And why? And what happens when you do so? And then, How do you learn it all? The reality of independence, your official you-ness, does not occur until that horrible experience, birth. Until then, you are united with your mother. No need for resources. No need for comfort. No need to recognize things outside of yourself other than warmth and complacency. Indeed until you are born you have no responsibility for your own development. You are a part of a whole, but not whole yourself. When does that change? The moment you come roaring out of the womb. Why come screaming? Because things have changed from the way they were. The part of a whole, the only existence you have ever known is shattered, the conditions of your bank spanking new life have changed and suddenly you do something very important for the very first time.

You suffer.

Until birth you were entirely complacent and content with existence, in fact so much so you need make no distinction between you and your environment. Maybe you kicked your mother's uterine wall, but you had known that to be true since the very beginning, it was in no way new and separate from yourself.

The moment however you make your first desperate gasp for air, when you are left slimy and cold, no long enveloped in the warm fluid you had been floating in for nine months, you make a distinction, between you, and that outside of you. You in essence, begin to observe the outside world, separate from yourself. There is the birth of the mind. Not the brain, dear reader, but the conscious mind. The ego births itself with you. With out words, and without an ability to truly quantify these fresh experiences, you still never the less begins to "take things in" and from this moment on, your frame of reference, your conscious understanding, is born.

Locked and loaded with millions of undeveloped synapses and a brain completely void of any previous sensation, you begin to take the world in, your genes geared up and ready to go, ready to specialize as your mind will dictate to your body as you begin this crazy journey on Earth. Maybe.

But what are the implications of such a beginning, this process by which we come to understand everything? My friend they are vast indeed. From that moment on you begin to run into the problem highlighted by Socrates, Aristotle, Kant, and Buddha alike. You begin to decide upon that which you cannot truly know. For the purpose of survival, you distinguish yourself from what you need. But how do you do this? Through an intricate and complex web of associations.

The field of Linguistics has categorized these associations under the broad term of "signifiers". "Signifiers" more or less mean "sign" or "symbol". It is the compartmentalization of anything into a relatable concept or object. This can be done in several ways, through language (specific words meaning certain things), textures, colors, feelings, or recognition of opposites between that which is signified by that which it is not.

From the very beginning, rudimentary signifiers such as extreme feelings begin to formulate your understanding of the natural world and your place in it. You develop likes, and dislikes. You concretize your beliefs and acknowledgment of things through associations that range from vague recognition to stark absolutes. (ex. Green is green) The conscious mind utilizes these signifiers to appropriate itself in position to the world around it. And in doing so, defines how it understands itself.

But here in lies our problem, dear reader. For signified quantification of the world is a unique experience. From the moment you are born your list of observations build upon one another. You are temporally (bound in time) linear (on a trajectory forward). You cannot go back in time and erase a reference point. The first time an American child sees an Elephant in real life for example, he will make associations to previous experiences. It has four legs, like a dog, but is rough like concrete, and smells like horse poop, with a trunk like a fire hose. However, every other child will have it's own way of coming to understand, by association, what that creature is.

The Vedas, the doctrine of Ancient Hinduism, exemplify this phenomenon in several stories. Perhaps my favorite though is of two men who encounter something in the road. A man walks along the road and sees something lying in the center of it. It is black, and long, with a  sleek and imposing look. He sees the object and out of fear, out of association, recognizes it is a deadly snake. Not wanting to tread upon the creatures path, he flees for his life, unable to carry onward to where he needed to be going.

A second man comes along the same path and sees the object lying in the road. He looks at it for a moment, and decides to approach, as he believes it to be nothing more than a stick. As he approaches, the second man sees that in fact, it is a stick, moves it out the way, and continues onward.

The point of the story is not that, in fact, both men dealt with the object and only one recognized it as in fact what it was. The purpose of the story is to highlight that for both men, the phenomenon was real. How could the first man, given his associations to the object, have known it was a stick. His SUBJECTIVE mind told him otherwise. And indeed for the second man...how could he know it was not a snake. There is no inherent wisdom in either men's approach, merely the reality that the associations they made to what reality had to offer were, in fact, different.

In modern America many of us would be inclined to say that the second man was wise, and he came upon objectivity through rationality. Yet perhaps we are conditioned? Secure? Were we to assume the same thing in Sub-saharan Africa, would we not potentially run upon a Black Mamba in our certitude.

The reality is, our culturally and temporally associated subjectivity leads us to believe the second man was wise, and that the first man was irrational.

Now, dear reader, having considered the nature of signifiers, let's look at how. How do we interpret the world at large, and then, again, why.

It can be concluded, without subjective thought, that you, in fact, observe what comes into your life. You make associations, and choices to these observations, tuck them away, and use all previous relationships to define what new things are. How we do this, is by conscious consideration of phenomenon around us, and subsequently the development of certain parts of our brain to believe that these things are so.

Why then do we do this?

It is because we are specialists. We are designed to survive, not just as an individual, but as a species. And as such, it is vital to the species that we utilize and differentiate the experience of this most fantastic evolutionary tool of the conscious mind. Every assumption we make, every endeavor we take as a result of our individual certainty creates a new thread in the human experience. We are designed, in essence, to be fooled by our own hubris. With out this diversity the resources we would all depend on would dry up and humanity as we know it would cease to exist. Creativity does not allow for singularity. And the conscious mind depends on creative impulses and associations to define itself.

This reality, that we are designed to interpret and envelop ourself in hubris is important because it suggests that in fact objectivity does exist, but we are not able to grasp it. Several things can be assumed about life. One, there is life. Two, it exists. And three, people are more or less biologically bound to a particular set of rules. But inherently there is a problem with stating these facts, because again, your subjective use of signifiers means you cannot and will not understand like I do, nor will I understand it as you do. It is a reflection of this fact. That there is a truth that is simply unobtainable because our existence is subject to its existence. In theory, truth can exist on its own, without man kind. With out anything. If there is a conscious mind to contemplate it, it's true nature will be obscured. It perhaps takes a idealogical mind to create it's pertinence. But pertinence, my friend, in any form, is an anthropomorphized concept which believes that phenomenon are subjected to the importance of a mind to contemplate them. We understand the world in terms of us, and if it is not related to us, how would we be able to recognize it. We inherently compartmentalize everything into the human condition, when in fact we are simply signifying it.

Let's take the musings of a few great philosophers on the issue:

Immanuel Kant, one of the fathers of modern ethics, believes it is imperative to do one's duty at all times, and that one's duty is ultimate good. One must do this duty in all it's forms with particular attention to the idea that no harm be done to any other. This includes making no assumptions about the consequences of your actions. You must not lie. You must not assert truth, but you must say it. In essence you must do your very best to represent a just truth that you cannot inherently have a true grasp on.

Aristotle, that grandchild of the Platonic school of thought begun by Socrates, taught that all matter is bound to itself in form and function. That it simply is due to its relationship to the world around it. Beyond that, little can be known. He believed matter in its design had purpose, and that its form was designed to achieve this purpose. But no where in his teachings did he say man kind and the conscious mind was empirically more valuable than all matter. He merely laid out a means by which man kind could make good on its opportunity. He argued for the model citizen to take action when needed, inaction when it was needed as well. To be bold, and wise. To fight, and to keep reservation. He argued for what is ultimately a system of self examination. To act is to achieve happiness, but since simple happiness is subject to associations of good and bad, he argued for a greater form of happiness. A form of happiness that was to come into a good state of being. To achieve goodness. And that that is all mankind could endeavor towards.

Siddhartha, more commonly known as the Buddha, ultimately argued that "truth" could only be experienced. That explanation of its true-ness was impossible. Why one might ask? In essence because it's literally existence could not be told though signification. Subjective interpretation of phenomenon in the world, and indeed of the self, makes it impossible to understand what is. Any attempt to get an "understanding' of objectivity is to obscure it though association. To release oneself of all worldly connection and sense of self is the only way to peace, because all other distractions are a quagmire and cluster-fuck of confusion, association, and inevitably suffering.

In many ways these concepts reflect the empirical nature of the teaching of the prophets of the Judeo-Islamic-Christian God. All of these men, Christ, Mohammed, and Moses, taught what they purported to be a perfect system to completion of the soul. Should their words be followed "salvation" and the merciful love of God would be bestowed upon the believer. These methods of living were laid out in codes of conduct, which, in the error of these men (who very well may have experienced some form of objectivity, but lost its potency in the attempt to describe its existence) are unfortunately left to the interpretation of the subjective listener. The mind, constructed of linear associations will attribute meaning to aspects of these codes of conduct that cannot be reflective of a greater truth because it is an individuals interpretation.

For example, if you will, imagine again the scenario in which 100 people wrote for 100 years on the idea of "perfect goodness in the eyes of God." Again, none of these lists would be the same, but to every member they would more or less be a perfect representation of the love and mercy of the Lord. Attempting to deconstruct any one of these individual's beliefs would be impossible. However motivating them to do more in their efforts towards "good" as they understood it, would be easier, as they had a clearer understanding of their conceptualization of it.

This aside, let's return to my favorite philosopher, Socrates. Socrates, along with describing that the only thing we can know is that we truly know nothing ( a clear reference to an ancient understanding that signifiers and their associations to not reflect reality) Socrates believed that the was he existence of a Great Truth. That truth was consistent with the concepts of goodness and justice, but that it existed in its own essence. He, along with Plato believed everything had it's own essence. A dog owned its own dog-ness, and by this dog-ness we came to interpret a dog in our own individual ways. This to he believed could be applied to the theoretical realm of concepts. That concepts in themselves exist and we merely tap into aspects of them in ways that befit our own capacity. Reality, it would seem, to Socrates, is an individual interpretation of something greater. He modeled this belief through the famous "Allegory of the Cave". Socrates argues that life for mankind is like being chained down facing the wall of a cave. Behind you is reality, but what you catch of it are simply shadows, aspects of the truth you cannot actually see. Yet, since these shadows are all we have ever known, that is what  we accept and believe as existence. The trap therein being, that no two of us will ever interpret these shadows the same way, nor have a true concept of what lays behind us.

To return briefly to Siddharth, another metaphor describing this phenomenon of consciousness I find to be particularly well modeled. There is a belief in Buddhism that the universe as a whole is a reflection of the self. That life in total is like standing in front of a mirror. Poppycock you must be thinking. Yet, if we think about the nature of interpretation again, these signifiers, these mechanisms of meaning, is not indeed the entirety of the universe, whether it objectively exists or not, a result of your subjective interpretations of it. The vast entirety of the universe is completely beyond our grasp. But you sit in relative certainty every day of its reality and meaning. The world you experience, the reality you experience, is no more than a reflection of the ego you have created since you came bursting and bawling from that bulging belly your mother carried you in.

Everything you know has been amounting to guaranteeing yourself you are a separate, unique, and divisive human being. And every endeavor you have made to confirm that is what shapes your understanding of the broader world. Your universe is yours. Not mine. Not your mother's. It is an existence unto itself. And this is due to one indisputable truth...

"The Mind" and "Objectivity" are exclusive, and incompatible. As long as there is a voice inside of you which decides, what cannot be altered or interpreted is impossible for you to grasp.

The only objective truth known is that as soon as you begin to conceptualize something, and assign to it a word, symbol, or sign, you deny all other aspects of it's objective reality. What you COULD otherwise know about it. You defeat the truth in attempting to own it. You are programed, meant to be unique. Your very existence and the purpose to which you were born depends upon it. But all you can do is tap into small aspects of that greater realm of truth, in order that you might become unique, and survive.

You "mind", the you that makes you you, cannot know that which cannot be known. You are subject to objectivity, and will never observe that which is too great to be observed.

Laugh it up while you can. Agree with other members of your society to make life easier. Let's all agree that something is objective so that we might be complacent, and play by the same rules.

But 400 years ago, witches were real, disease was the curse of the devil.
2,000 years ago lighting was the anger of the gods.
And today gravity is your unexplainable constant.
So rest easy in knowing there is nothing you can do.

But do take with you, "the only thing you can truly know, is that you know nothing."




This page will not be your cup of tea, plain and simple.

If I am to start off this blog I will begin with a quote which motivates me everyday. Not that you care. But if you're here, and reading, taking a little piece of my life to enrich or depreciate from your own, then take it.

"The unexamined life is not worth living."- Socrates

Why is this my favorite quote? Why is it the single principle I keep in the back of my mind? Dear reader, it is because encompassed in this quote is everything.

This blog will not be your cup of tea for several reasons. First and foremost is because it will be unapologetically comprised of existential examinations of everyday life. I am not a scholar. I am not a highly educated man. But you will read this, reader, because you, like all other people in this world are inherently inquisitive of life and how it is lived beyond yourself. In the modern age of real-time access to every ounce of bullshit you could ever want, the parameters of a single life have at the same time both exploded and become isolated. You have access to the most dramatically important information available to mankind, and yet, here we sit, both you and I, withering away on meaningless examinations of another's life.

What would Sir Isaac Newton, or Aristotle, or Immanuel Kant think of such mandane activities. All of them would argue that enrichment is the key to a thorough existence. But perhaps the reason I sit here writing this, and you sit here reading this is because we both call bullshit on those supposedly infallible men.

Here in lies the simplicity and beauty of my favorite quote. Socrates, the son of an Ancient Greek equivalent of a construction worker, a champion wrestler, and defiant statesmen came upon a desperate realization one day, after his friend returned from a visit to the wondrous and prophetic Oracle of Delphi. You see upon meeting the Oracle (the Ancient Greek equivalent of a direct phone call with God) you were able to ask one question. Usually poor folks were told to wait outside, and priests would descend into caverns below the Temple of Apollo, covered in billowing smoke, and retrieve the Oracle's answer for you. Usually the answer was so cryptic it really provided no answer worth reflecting upon. The argument was, eventually the answer would become clear. Yet, if you were important enough, you had the ability to descend into the dark, crammed passages below the temple yourself, so that you might meet her face to face.

From personal testimony I can assure you those passages are eerily  tight and dark. This past summer I did a bit of adventuring past some caution tape into the dark underbelly of the Temple of Apollo. Through twists and turns, sans light, and full of putrid smells, passageways no wider than a coffin, lined with marble, open into a chamber directly in between the sacrificial pits adjacent to the temple. There a distinct smell of methane seeps through a roman brick wall (supposedly bricked up by Trajan after he was told he would be the only man to truly rule the world) and two post holes, which would once have held up a chair sit above rivets cut in the marble, where noxious and hallucinogenic fumes would have been inhaled by the poor drugged virgin Oracle who spat out the blessings of Apollo.

It was here in this chamber that Socrates' friend was so graciously invited. This selfless fellow asked his one question which was certainly curious in nature, having traveled weeks to see the Oracle face to face. He asked, "Is there anyone wiser than Socrates?" To which the Oracle replied, "There is none wiser."

Upon hearing this news from his well-traveled and thoughtful friend, the old and tired Socrates pondered the God's answer. He asked others what it must mean. All of them gave him their interpretation. So many different interpretations were given to him in fact that Socrates came upon what he believed to be the meaning of his message. As he explained as he was on trial for his life, a  70 year old man defending the path he had taken since this revelation, the reason the god had said he was wiser than all is because he plainly had no idea what the message meant, and didn't pretend to. He was the only man, it seemed in the world, who did not pretend he knew any solid answers to questions unanswerable. "The only thing I know, is that I know nothing," he would say.

The man took this thought and transcribed it into a life of seeking knowledge through the contradiction of everyone else's hubris. He would certainly surmise things, but not because he had inherently believed them so, arguing for the point out of completely invalidated self-pride. And through this endeavor, of giving up everything, becoming desperately poor, and bullying the most elite of society into recognizing their own logical fallacies, he single handedly changed ethics, logic, and rationality in the world's first great democracy.

His core belief stood as this one statement, the only thing he truly asserted as correct, "The unexamined life is not worth living."

So, reader, you singular ignoramus, as I said, this blog will not be your cup of tea because it will examine, in depth, the realities beyond your ignorant convictions. You're just going to have to read, sit down, shut up, and listen to my own reflections. Argue what you will. Say what you will. Get mad, or come soak up every word. In the end we will be sure of only one thing. Neither you, nor I, have a grasp on what truly is. And you, my wasteful friend are doing the same as I. We are in one way or another examining each other's world. Hopelessly attempting to shore up or change beliefs we have no proof to validate. No one showed up with an empirical text book to life when you pooped out sobbing from you mothers selflessly ripped womb, and you've been justifying each breath since.

So, if you continue to read these musings I ask you one thing, do not simply read, but soak up, stew upon, chew each argument like a succulent meat, until you have broken it apart into every fiber, and come to postulate on the deepest level, not what you decide about it, but what you decided about it, says about you.