Month: January 2011

Content

The life. Routine. Same old. Familiarity. Its rotten cold stench fills the room. My nostrils. I hate it. I want it exorcised from me.

What has become of me? Of my mind? Of my heart? The baseless ruminations and trivial imaginings. No. I don’t even imagine. I hide within myself. I shirk and weakly accept defeat. I let this massive framework constructed by others fill my mind. It’s terrible. Simple terrible.

I need to squeeze it out of me. Bang my head. Smash it out. Beauty. That is what I want. Nameless, formless, ethereal beauty. Something that transports my senses and desires to distant wholly righteous lands. Whatever the hell that means. And that’s what I’m talking about. All this nonsense about sense.  All this stupid schooling. Agh. School. It dampens the mind. Leaves boys and girls dull. Robotic. Refined.

I want RAW. I want RAW talent, raw emotion, raw feeling. I want the rawness of life to scrape against me, rub me into an agitated state so as to wake me. I want to open my eyes and see this rawness prevail over the population. Forget refinement.

Its a sick joke. The mass mania. The delusional enterprises of gratification. Of economy. This American dream. This American nightmare. This world, filled with animals. Walking talking animals. Empty in mind and spirit. They consume. They eat and drink and take in information.

NO. I refuse to go down that route. I want my chest cavity to peel back. I want my heart exposed and beating. I want to sink into the soil and rot and give new life to a bed of flowers. Composting new thoughts.

Have I forgotten myself? Is it the civilization that has high jacked my fantasies? Have I become irresponsible with the individual I am? Where is that small voice? Where is the voice that speaks against the grain and into the wind?

No more aphoristic speech. I want sheer agony to escape from the lips of my mouth and tips of my fingers. I want a song, a wretched song, a song so beautiful it renders the masses in agony. Their unworthy ears.

To foster passion, you need to get angry. You need to be shaken. I need to assert myself with some originality. Who the hell knows what that means at this point? So many conventions. They become rote and soon my brain disconnects from my heart and I spill apart. God. The pathetic ramblings. The pathetic complaints about rambling.

Get me out of here. Out of this body. Out of this mind. Into the raw texture of life. Wrap me in it. Submerse me in its itchy or smooth or terrible or awesome rawness.

The lights dim. Creativity? A voice? Originality? All pathetically manufactured. They have no meaning. They have been robbed and we have been fed a lie. Zombies.

Discontent

The life. Routine. Same old. Familiarity. Its rotten cold stench fills the room. My nostrils. I hate it. I want it exorcised from me.

What has become of me? Of my mind? Of my heart? The baseless ruminations and trivial imaginings. No. I don’t even imagine. I hide within myself. I shirk and weakly accept defeat. I let this massive framework constructed by others fill my mind. It’s terrible. Simple terrible.

I need to squeeze it out of me. Bang my head. Smash it out. Beauty. That is what I want. Nameless, formless, ethereal beauty. Something that transports my senses and desires to distant wholly righteous lands. Whatever the hell that means. And that’s what I’m talking about. All this nonsense about sense.  All this stupid schooling. Agh. School. It dampens the mind. Leaves boys and girls dull. Robotic. Refined.

I want RAW. I want RAW talent, raw emotion, raw feeling. I want the rawness of life to scrape against me, rub me into an agitated state so as to wake me. I want to open my eyes and see this rawness prevail over the population. Forget refinement.

Its a sick joke. The mass mania. The delusional enterprises of gratification. Of economy. This american dream. This american nightmare. This world, filled with animals. Walking talking animals. Empty in mind and spirit. They consume. They eat and drink and take in information.

NO. I refuse to go down that route. I want my chest cavity to peel back. I want to sink into the soil and rot and give new life to a bed of flowers.

Have I forgotten myself? Is it the civilization that has high jacked my fanstasies? Have I become irresponsible with the individual I am? Where is that small voice? Where is the voice that speaks against the grain and into the wind?

No more aphoristic speech. I want sheer agony to escape from the lips and tips of my fingers. I want a song, a wretched song, a song so beautiful it renders the masses in agony. Their unworthy ears.

To foster passion, you need to get angry. You need to be shaken. I need to assert myself with some originality. Who the hell knows what that means at this point? So many conventions. They become rote and soon my brain disconnects from my heart and I spill apart. God. The pathetic ramblings. The pathetic complaints about rambling.

Get me out of here. Out of this body. Out of this mind. Into the raw texture of life. Wrap me in it. Submerse me in its itchy or smooth or terrible or awesome rawness.

The lights dim. Creativity? A voice? Originality? All pathetically manufactured. They have no meaning. They have been robbed and we have been fed a lie. Zombies.

Time to Wake.

Sirens blare. Startled, I turn from the corner of the room, away from the conversation, and head for the blackness. My heart rate heightens and I look for cover, pumping my legs, trying to escape the impending noise. The gravity tightens its hold and my legs grow heavy. I am anxious to run, but my steps are slow and weighted. I keep my eyes ahead and penetrate the darkness, looking for some safeguard. My thoughts are in a flurry. I am waiting to arrive; but there is no light. My pace slows and I pan my head side to side. Blackness. Why? Frightened, I look to retreat. The room is located behind me. My eyes stop at a celestial glow. It’s in the distance, a dim corner, floating in space, shining, like a world of its own. The human figures remain unmoved, still conversing. The echoless siren continues screaming. I want to yell, tell them to flee, but my voice is muffled. In a panic, I race towards them, wave my arms, try to get their attention. The glow remains fixed. I am not approaching. Blackness. It floats farther away. I want to grab it, hold it, save them, save myself. I am lost. I am alone. Anxiety takes hold. I begin to tremble. I close my eyes, but the darkness remains. I fall forward; I continue to fall, waiting for the crash, but it never comes. Sqeezing myself together, I curl into a ball to give myself some sense of groundedness. I try to imagine light; anything but the darkness. A crepuscular veneer begins to spill onto the edges of my world, slowly saturating my imaginings.

My senses tantillate and my ears regain their awareness. I am warm. I am alive. A crust breaks free as I peel my eyes open. I fixate on the bunkbed above me. My heart beats vigorously. I was dreaming. My head turns to the clock. A nauseating cacophony spews from its electronics. I hate it. 7:27. My eyes swell shut.

A body approaches from the corner of the room “I already gave you too many chances Michael.” A splash of cold liquid rivetes me in the face: my body instantly stiffens, my breath vacuums in a long inhale, my eyes shoot open in alarm.

“You need to get out of bed right now!”

My covers are ripped from my body, and I lay in my bed cold,  wet, and exposed.

“What the heck are you doing! I’m awake already! What’s your problem!” I fire back in agitation.

“I don’t care if you’re awake already, you need to get your butt outta bed! It’s 7:28 and the Buscotti’s will be here any minute!” She leaves the room. I feel the folds of my face gather in disdain as I sit up. Ugh.

A shirt rests on the ground and I reach to dry my face. A white light fills the room. A dryer hums. Mother passes in the hall. I walk to the closet and find my blue slacks situated in the middle of the closet, stiffly propped up from their removal the night before. I’m so clever. I place my feet in each pant leg, slide them up effortlessly to my waist, and secure my belt. It’s braided. I loop it over itself and it hangs down a few inches.

A glass prism catches my eye. I pick it up and focus the lights rays on the glass with a gentle rotation. A rainbow of color projects on the white wall. My eyes searched for the convergence of colors. Where does one color end and the other begin? There is just endless color in between. Bored, I retreat back into the closet and thumb through my choice of polos. I wore white yesterday. Maroon? Hm… I grab a forest green polo. Slipping it over my head, I head downstairs.

I can hear my sisters eating their cereal and mumbling to each other. The clink of the metal spoons and porcelain echos in the kitchen. The cupboard contains cheerios, wheaties, life and kix. Kix. My parents never allow any sweets in the house. That is, until dad’s gone for business. Then we cash in: Lucky Charms. Even then my mom ends up picking out all the marshmellows. That makes me mad.

Financial Euphoria & Its Speculative Ruin

The recent financial and economic crisis is yet again the result of the same speculative orgy that happened not twenty years prior in the 1987 market crash. When the dust settled, the same inimical features culpably appear as reason for the disaster. As happened so many times in history, there was intense speculation that was fueled by misplaced faith in the lenders and rich. The association with intelligence and money contributed to a speculative boom that lead individuals to risks and over extend their confidence and credit. In addition, financiers at large investment banking companies were hailed for their seemingly innovative, yet unoriginal, practices of leveraging debt through financial instruments taking the forms of derivatives, securities and ARM’s (adjustable rate mortgages).

In the 90’s the US government passed a series of policies allowing home buyers to more easily secure mortgages through government backed debt. As more and more people began buying homes, housing values began to increase all over the countries. In attractive states such as Florida and Nevada, housing prices near tripled their original value. Lending companies began to underwrite mortgages well under standards to meet the demand and soon began pushing sub-prime loans onto home buyers. Many unworthy home buyers maintained poor credit, or bought multiple homes with hopes of flipping the home on speculation that its value will continue appreciating.

The speculative housing mania fostered the creation of massive MDS (mortgage backed securities) and subsequently CDO’s (collateralized debt obligations) which allowed shadow banking systems and credit markets to flourish while operating with little or no oversight. These and other “financial innovations”, nothing more repackaged debt being attractively marketed to meet investor demands, resulted in growing specious debt being incorrectly valued and over leveraged.

To hedge against risk, investors unloaded securities through CDS’s (credit default swaps) to mitigate against potential loss. These CDS’s allowed for more speculation as investors could basis trade on CDS spreads. As more and more loans defaulted, packaged MDS and CDO’s became riddled with unknown risk value and were dubbed toxic. These derivatives soon became worthless as panic stricken investors began selling bonds.

The banks bought these mortgage backed securities with the thought that, being backed by actual homes, they were fairly risk free. They predicted that the home values would sustain and that they could simply turn around and sell the properties at these high prices to compensate for any defaulted debt. In 2006 the crisis was set in motion when the housing bubble began to deflate as economic pressures forced home buyers to walk out on loans, leaving a wake of severely overvalued and ‘toxic’ securities in its path.

Major financial institutions, deemed credible and near prophetic with their steady gains, capitalized on the public’s gullibility for getting rich quick, as well as their short term memory of the financial crash just twenty years prior. These lending and banking institutions were thought to be “too big to fail” and garnered the pollyanna support of investors all over the world. As the housing market evaluations increased so too did the financial and banking markets in exponential disproportion.

In addition, individuals hailed as innovative financial frontiersman possessed the reputations that granted the support of willful and ignorant investors of all over. Such financiers included once NASDAQ chairman Bernard Madoff who masterminded a reminiscent Ponzi scheme that would rob investors of more than $60 billion. Hedge funds and the wealthy elite all over the world became victims of his vacuous enterprise.

As in all major financial disasters to date, the subsequent crash caused a sudden and permanent drop in US wealth as more than a quarter of wealth evaporated from their coffers. A decrease in consumption lead to an increase in unemployment above fourteen percent and the annualized rate of decline in US GDP reached closed to fifteen percent.

As the past has revealed, the aftermath of the crash caused a blind hunt to find and persecute the blameworthy. Everyone from the banks to the investors to the fed chairman and even the president of the US has been subject to scrutiny and called out for not predicting and preventing such an event. While regulation policies and reform measures followed, there was almost predictably no talk to the wide spread delusion and mania persistent throughout society which allowed for such a disaster to take place. Little blame was placed on the mass insanity of those who gullibly entrusted their money to “intelligent investors” of the financial community. Nor was their criticism of the baseless free-enterprise attitudes that the market is a perfect and neutral force absolved from external influences and inherent errors.

Those held responsible, mostly investment bankers and hedge fun managers, found their integrity and confidence completely ruined. As seen in the past, some fled in light of the impending crash, cashing out and leaving with their pockets full before they were apprehended as the cause. Many others, broken and shamed, thought suicide was the more appropriate measure for reconciling their guilt.

In the end euphoric speculation was the crux of the financial disaster as the masses became entranced with the seemingly boundless increases in the market. Vacuous financial innovations that leveraged risky debt were fabricated to promote and continue the growth. Those jumping on the bandwagon only fueled and reinforced the delusion. Caught up in the euphoric mood, many sage and perspicacious people overlooked the risks and the inevitable end that was to come.

Pollock’s principle of objective epistemic justification

Pollock’s principle of objective epistemic justification, whereby objective epistemic justification entails justified true belief, states that:

S is objectively justified in believing P if and only if:
1. S is (subjectively) justified in believing P; and
2. there is a set of X truths such that, given any more inclusive set Y of truths, necessarily, if the truths in Y were added to S’s beliefs (and their negations removed in those cases in which S disbelieves them) and S believed P for the same reason then he would still be (subjectively) justified in believing P.

In an example similar to Pollock’s Tom Grabit case, it becomes evident that the structure of epistemic justification and the complexity of epistemic norms is the crux for objective epistemic justification:

Suppose I see a sign indicating that the home of particular neighbor Mr. Beech is for sale on my street. I am sure that I am familiar with this neighbor who is an economics professor at the local college and know he lives there. The following day I arrive at work and report that Mr. Beech’s home is for sale, on the account that I have met him and seen a for sale sign on my street. However, unbeknownst to me, my wife insists that Mr. Beech is not moving anywhere, on account that she spoke with him the day before and he made no indication of doing so.

However, my wife did not know that Mr. Beech was ashamedly the victim on a Ponzi scheme and lost all him money, and that he desperately wanted to move to save face and needed to sell his house to recoup money. In light of this evidence, it becomes apparent that I did know that Mr. Beech was moving.

This example supports Pollock’s principle of objective epistemic justification because S instantiated argument A that objectively justified P so that A prevailed undefeated in relation to the inclusive set of truths presented. In the example, S is objectively justified in believing P as a result of knowledge that was undefeated by true defeaters.

Pollack’s principle of objective epistemic justification

Pollack’s principle of objective epistemic justification, whereby objective epistemic justification entails justified true belief, states that:

S is objectively justified in believing P if and only if:
1. S is (subjectively) justified in believing P; and
2. there is a set of X truths such that, given any more inclusive set Y of truths, necessarily, if the truths in Y were added to S’s beliefs (and their negations removed in those cases in which S disbelieves them) and S believed P for the same reason then he would still be (subjectively) justified in believing P.

In an example similar to Pollack’s Tom Grabit case, it becomes evident that the structure of epistemic justification and the complexity of epistemic norms is the crux for objective epistemic justification:

Suppose I see a sign indicating that the home of particular neighbor Mr. Beech is for sale on my street. I am sure that I am familiar with this neighbor who is an economics professor at the local college and know he lives there. The following day I arrive at work and report that Mr. Beech’s home is for sale, on the account that I have met him and seen a for sale sign on my street. However, unbeknownst to me, my wife insists that Mr. Beech is not moving anywhere, on account that she spoke with him the day before and he made no indication of doing so.

However, my wife did not know that Mr. Beech was ashamedly the victim on a Ponzi scheme and lost all him money, and that he desperately wanted to move to save face and needed to sell his house to recoup money. In light of this evidence, it becomes apparent that I did know that Mr. Beech was moving.

This example supports Pollack’s principle of objective epistemic justification because S instantiated argument A that objectively justified P so that A prevailed undefeated in relation to the inclusive set of truths presented. In the example, S is objectively justified in believing P as a result of knowledge that was undefeated by true defeaters.

Dislike

Whenever you see something you dislike, it represents something you are repelling inside you.

This world exists wholly in our minds, constructed from the myriad of experiences composing life. The world is not an objective place. Meaning is not inherent. We imbue the world with meaning, subjective meaning, meaning conjured from the toil and joy and heartache we wrought from it. From an amalgam of experiences limited in perception and imagination.

When I look at something I dislike, when I have a negative reaction towards something or someone, my first inclination is to ask myself ‘why?’ What am I opposed to here? Past associations wrapped in irrational and emotional bias? I must never catch myself reacting without fair trial. My conceptions are as limited as my experience, something infinitely oblique and narrow. In order to grow I must be willing to step outside experience and into unknown and uncomfortable confrontations. I must aim to actively dispel any negative reactions inside me.

I must remain open and free from the vice of hasty judgment; in this way I may remain free from judgment. Love the world, in all its spectacular curiosities. We do not judge the people we love.

However, I must say, judgment does not mean doing away with discernment and prudence. We must act wise, reacting in the interest of goodness with truth in mind.

Update

I’d like to write about this weekend, preferably sooner than later. The past two weeks have been good. Papers and essays will begin flooding into my routine with the guarantee effect of additional stress. Speaking of papers… I just finished reading a book for History of Economic Thought and I need to write a paper by tomorrow. Fun!

I bought a motorcycle two weeks ago. It was a 1982 Kawasaki KZ750H3 LTD with 29k miles. It ran well but it needed a lot of work. I decided to take it apart and rebuild it piece by piece into something that resembles a cafe racer. Much cooler than the original look.

I love mechanics and working with my hands. Plus I needed a project. Every semester I give myself some ADD project to work on. Whether its research, writing a book, forming a club or doing fund raising, I need to stay busy. Not that I’m not already, but I feel like I need self guided projects to maintain the sanity of my will. So the bike is in pieces in my basement. All that’s left is the frame and the engine. I had a disaster draining the oil. I had a pan I thought would accommodated it all, a thought that would later be to my dismay.  So I flooded a good deal of my garage with oil. I hope the landlord doesn’t mind. I’ll get kitty liter and try absorbing as much as possible.

I went on a date with a girl this Saturday.  I wanna write all about that, expunge some thoughts. Dating is interesting. So yea. I’ll save it and write about the details in my next update, hopefully within the next day or two. I suppose the date went great, I mean I had a good time. And we made plans to have dinner tomorrow night so I suppose that’s a good sign. Anyway. Write more later. Need to start this essay. And another before classes at 10 tomorrow.

Cheers to being a student!

Spatia Ante Materia

Spatia ante Materia (Spatia Rem or Spatia et Materia)

Is consciousness chosen? No. Therefore, there is no free will.

Consciousness was pulled out from within, forced into by demand.

The objective of life is to satisfy demands. All matter is a response to space. As matter, we exist to fulfill these flowing demands of space.

I want to write a magnum opus on a theory of everything which explains phenomena such as mind, knowledge, and reason. The theory will take on a form resembling mathematics, whereby balance and equilibrium serve as the natural progression for all cause and effect.

The exposition will begin by grounding three main concepts: polar pairs  (+, -), equilibrium (=), change (, ->)

What is important is not what is included, but what is excluded. Cause precedes effect, just as demand precedes supply, as space precedes matter, as form precedes substance.

Demand and Supply

Demand: (-),space, empty, negative, cause, pull, question, eternal, infinite, possibility, freedom

Supply: (+), matter, full, positive, effect, answer, temporal, finite, actuality, necessity

Equilibrium: (=), balance, harmony, synthesis, (life energy of being)

Change: (), (->), condition, (A third relation between +&-)

Why do we live in a dualistic world?

Phenomenon: L.L. phænomenon, from Gk. phainomenon “that which appears or is seen,” noun use of neut. prp. of phainesthai “to appear,” passive of phainein (see phantasm). Meaning “extraordinary occurrence” first recorded 1771. Plural is phenomena.

What is the origin of phenomena? Occurrence? Change?

Equilibrium, a balance of tensions, results from change.

Why is there space at all?

Life is a progression of changes toward equilibrium.

Entropy is a progression toward an equilibrium state.

Is life the most efficient form of entropy?

Reality is a question; not an answer.

Time a measure describing a rate of change, . Time is not constant but relative to rates.

Knowledge is never so pure than in its moment of conception.

Change must not be rigid, otherwise is will not adapt. Knowledge is inherently rigid: determinate; composed and formed. Understanding is fluid: indeterminate; flexible and open. Knowledge sufficiently supplies for necessary demands.

Where S & + are matter and D & – are space:
MP: S->D/ S// D
MT: S->D/ ~D// ~S

Demand is a necessary condition for all supply: without demand, there is no supply; without space, there is no matter; without problems, there is no knowledge. Supply is a sufficient condition for demand; knowledge is a sufficient condition for problem. As a sufficient condition, demand may be satisfied by any posited supply; problems may be satisfied by any posited knowledge. Equilibrium is reached by a supply that accounts for and satisfies maximum proximate demands.

LEM: (+ v ~+), that is (+ v -)
LNC: ~(+ ∧ ~+), that is ~(+ ∧ -)
LI: (+=+), that is (+<=>+), reflexive relation/ tautology

Mind

Intentionalism:

“In an intentional state, something is presented to the mind. So any intentional state is a presentation. What is presented is called an intentional object; for a state of mind to have an intentional object is for it to be directed on that object, So, insofar as a state of mind is directed, it has an intentional object. The intentional object of a thought is given in the answer to the question ‘what is your thought about?/what is your thought directed on?’ For a state of mind to have aspectual shape is for it to present its object in a certain way. And so, insofar as the state of mind has aspectual shape, then it has intentional content. The intentional content of a thought is given in an answer to the questions ‘what are you thinking?/what is in your mind?’ Since, according to intentionalism, all mental states have directedness and aspectual shape, then all mental states have an intentional object and intentional content.”

-Crane, Stephen: Elements of Mind (2001)

I would like to explore the origin of presentation. The presentations that give rise to mind result from causal demands. All matter maintains a spatial relation between other matter. Equilibrium progress manifests relations as tension from unresolved demands. Bodies present themselves in relation to other bodies; everything else. Matter is not inclusive, but exclusive. This relational tension manifests a pull, a demanding force, a gravitation. All bodies, exclusive and distinct, are in misrelation until an equilibrium reaches universal homogeneity.

Consciousness

Consciousness was pulled out from within, forced into existence- into a condition, a being, a change, a continuous enactment- by demand.

Equity

There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year’s course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word ‘happy’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.
~Carl Jung

Balance. Harmony. Sine Curves.

Positive & Negative. Peak & Valley. Light & Dark. Life & Death. Possibility & Actuality. Infinite & Finite. Eternal & Temporal. Freedom & Necessity. Active & Passive.

Being & Nothingness.

Silent Virtue

“Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools because they have to say something.” -Plato

I am ever painfully aware of my contributions.

I have nothing to prove to myself. My knowledge is my own and needs no verification on the ears of others. I do not offer a supply where there is no demand for fear of flooding the citadels where fragile egos reside.

When one is fully competent in their knowledge, in their experience, in their ability to responsibly manage their inner life, one earns a reverent respect for humility and the virtue of silence. Open doors reveal the inner chambers of existence and expose the relative beauty or disarray where mindful solace is sought. When one speaks incessantly, without merited or solicited warrant, one does not offer up new knowledge but new insights to these potentially barren chambers of existence.

When we talk, we do not extol the storehouse of our knowledge but, more often than not, the lack thereof.

Flexidapt

“I should not like my writing to spare other people the trouble of thinking. But, if possible, to stimulate someone to thoughts of his own.”  – Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations

When you define you confine. Dogmatism immobilizes the consciousness and mollifies the senses. We should learn to think for and of our self. Rigidity mimics resiliency and is not adaptability. While it may boldly stand stolid and tall, it is more of a wall. Be flexible. Embrace the blurring lines of content.

“I mistrust all systematizers and I avoid them. The will to a system is a lack of integrity.” -Nietzsche, ‘Maxims and Arrows’, #26

Self

“The self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but that the relation relates itself to its own self.”
— Søren Kierkegaard

The notion of self. Self. What is self? What is consciousness?

I can’t just dive into it. I must rivet it out of me. The self is reflexive. It is an enactment, a verb, a being. The self is a struggle, a despairing misrelation between polarities, between infinite and finite, temporal and eternal, possibility and necessity. It is idealism and realism. It is the struggle that we cannot stand still within and move without.

How to consider what is and what will be. Induction and deduction. Static and flux.

Life stands out in all its sinewy gnarliness. The rudimentary lines drawn along the edges of contoured bodies, people and trees and other furniture filling the landscape of life. Self. There is no intermediary between the subject and object: there is only the self. We stand between ourselves. We are the demons that claw within, we are our own worst. The relation. The self-hood. This reflection.

I stare into the mirror and see a body. I move and this image moves correspondingly. An extension. A living breathing extension. I relate myself to this image that is myself. The dilating eyes. My dilating eyes. I cannot objectify this experience without losing hold of it. Thus we have the story of self.

The world is like a painted canvas. These objects are nothing but smearings of color that bleed in time and space and affect my sensitivities, prompting an involuntary response. I manage by distinguishing these smearings.

Distinctions. The whole is a comprised of parts, distinctions. Let us grapple the whole. Let us toss the parts. The whole is the self. We cannot construct a full self with handfuls of parts. Everything is a distinction. Dissolve distinction; then peel it back. Peel back the teguments and unveil the nature of experience, awaken your being.

Intention: Directedness that holds objects and content; point of view, reference, marked by aspectual shapes. We point and see the contours of experience.

The self is a continual realization of what was and what will. Faith places one in the now, somewhere in between.

Irresponsible Man

“It is remarkable, all that men can swallow. For a good ten minutes I read a newspaper. I allowed the spirit of an irresponsible man who chews and munches another’s words in his mouth, and gives them out again undigested, to enter in me through my eyes. I absorbed a whole column of it.”

-The Steppenwolf

I deactivated my facebook. I should have deleted it. I will not read the news any longer. No more mindless humdrum from the journalists besotted with duplication and mass delusion.

I find myself perpetually engrossed in the petty mulling’s of a world from which I am entirely too detached. I refuse to endorse the pleas and cries and pathetic wimper’s of worldly ramblings. What need have I of their thoughts? Haven’t I my own? If one should read, one should think; just as one should eat and digest. I realize I have not been obedient to myself as of late; gorging as it were and swallowing unmasticated material whole. It becomes evident when I look into the mirror and painfully press my gaze into the amorphous reflection of a hideous schizoid.

My masks continue to meld with each dram I swallow and soon I find that I can come up with no identity for the occasion. Instead I wear the obvious, a ghostly conglomerate of faded and bitter glories that foul the air.  It is bad taste to feign the obvious.

I oscillate between beast and man, occupying not two poles, but the spectrum in between, scuttling between the shifting margins of good and evil, asceticism and hedonism, restraint and indulgence.

Solitude is independence, a wall-less cell, an open cage. How to choose between buying in and buying out?

Thoughts are Things

“I hold it true that thoughts are things;
They’re endowed with bodies and breath and wings:
And that we send them forth to fill
The world with good results or ill.
That which we call our secret thought
Speeds forth to earth’s remotest spot,
Leaving it’s blessings or it’s woes
Like tracks behind it as it goes.
We build our future thought by thought,
for good or ill yet know it not.
Yet so the universe was wrought.
Thought is another name for fate;
Choose them thy destiny and wait,
For love brings love and hate brings hate”

-Henry Van Dyke

Passion bleeds through my pores and seeps onto the world, reflecting back in miniature the kaleidescope of color within my soul. I want to hold these wandering whims close. I want to guard against anything less than brilliance.

Money

So you think that money is the root of all evil? Have you ever asked what is the root of money? Money is a tool of exchange, which can’t exist unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another must deal by trade and give value for value. Money is not the tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears, or of the looters, who take it from you by force. Money is made possible only by the men who produce. Is this what you consider evil?

When you accept money in payment for your effort, you do so only on the conviction that you will exchange it for the product of the effort of others.It is not the moochers or the looters who give value to money. Not an ocean of tears nor all the guns in the world can transform those pieces of paper in your wallet into the bread you will need to survive tomorrow. Those pieces of paper, which should have been gold, are a token of honor—your claim upon the energy of the men who produce. Your wallet is your statement of hope that somewhere inthe world around you there are men who will not default on that moral principlewhich is the root of money. Is this
What you consider evil?

Have you ever looked for the root of production? Take a look at an electric generator and dare tell yourself that it was created by the muscular effort of unthinking brutes. Try to grow a seed of wheat without the knowledge left to you by men who had to discover it for the first time. Try to obtain your food by means of nothing but physical motions—and you’ll learn that man’s mind is the root of all the goods produced and of all the wealth that has ever existed on earth.
But you say that money is made by the strong at the expense of the weak? What strength do you mean? It is not the strength of guns or muscles. Wealth is the product of man’s capacity to think. Then is money made by the man who invents a motor at the expense of those who did not invent it? Is money made by the intelligent at the expense of the fools? By the able at the expense of the incompetent? By the ambitious at the expense of the lazy? Money is made—before it can be looted or mooched—made by the effort of every honest man, each to the extent of his ability. An honest man is one who knows that he can’t consume more than he has produced.”

~Ayn Rand~ The Meaning of Money,” For the New Intellectual, 88.

Living Anew

I have just started living. Every moment I catch myself with a renewed sense of wonder. I want to continue catching myself all of my days.

Brief recap on end of December and beginning of January:

2011 has begun. The holidays have come and gone and provided much time for reflection and contemplation. It’s good to let things settle in the mind before swirling them up again.

Finals ended, for the most part, well. I came home to Jupiter Florida and traveled with my family to St. Augustine Florida where we spent Christmas in a small cottage a block from the historic district. The cottage itself was quaint, two bedrooms, a fire place, a christmas tree, a small bar and kitchen. It was definitely a dated home. There was a bed and breakfast adjacent to the cottage where we indulged in home made breakfast every morning. It was great. I felt spoiled this year. I am blessed.

St. Augustine is a great little town chocked full of interesting things to do and see.  It was founded in 1565 by the Spanish and is the oldest continuously occupied European-established city and port in the continental United States. Cool little fact.

After Christmas I swung back into Jupiter and had the opportunity to spend new years with a lot of my old friends, which was nice. I went out a good deal. Drank a lot. It was good.  New years was great. I need to call some people and thank them for hanging out with me and showing me such a good time.

On January 1st, the afternoon of new years day, I got in my car with my sister and continuously traveled fourteen hours back to Nashville to convene with my Alternative Winter Break group. I arrived at 8:30, packed my bags, and met up with all twelve of them at 10:00am. The next eight hours I slept until I arrived in Natchez Mississippi.

I believe in volunteer work. I believe in giving yourself freely to people. Sharing yourself is so important. If we don’t give, we become too attached- to our time, to our things, to our money. You are not free if you cannot part with things and become attached. The more things you own, the more those things own you. Anyway.

In Natchez we woke at 830am and began work at the Sunshine Shelter, a place for children of abuse to reside between foster homes and what not. Its a safe haven where rehabilitation can begin taking place. We painted walls, cleaned up the yard and garden, did repairs, and talked with some of the children and teens there. It was extremely rewarding. As anyone can imagine, the shelter wasn’t exactly the finest of facilities. Most shelters and places like this struggle with funding and maintenance. They barely get by with state support. Yet, they place such a crucial role for rehabilitating victims within a community.

Anyway. We also worked at the Boys and Girls Club and Kyle’s House by painting and doing repairs. Kyle’s House was a day care facility for toddlers and children with special needs such as downs syndrome and cerebral palsy. It was a wonderful experience seeing those children and knowing that laying tile, applying fresh paint to grimy walls, and cleaning the yard was making a direct impact on their lives.

Natchez was a great little town with a ton of history. The weather hovered in the mid to upper sixties throughout the entirety of the week so we did a great deal of exploring the historic and more picturesque landscapes of the town.

The twelve students comprising the site were a phenomenal group. I don’t think I could have asked for a more dynamic, funny, and caring group. It was amazing how close we all became by the end of the trip. I sincerely hope we keep in touch throughout our time at Vandy. They are all incredible people, and brilliant in each their own way. Big things in their future.

One of the best aspects of the AWB trip is the relationships that are made within the group. This is facilitated by the life maps which are shared each night. A life map is the story of your life, from birth until present, that details every conceivable detail and event that have shaped you and the world view you have today. It offers a unique glimpse into the inner workings of your mind in a way that not many people have the priviledge of hearing despite how close they seem. The life map takes anywhere from one to two hours, but some last even longer. They are surprisingly emotional and usually deeply moving as you implore your depths and share the findings with this group of strangers. The vulnerability is exactly what brings the group together in such a unique way.

Although its not exactly realistic, I almost wish that life maps were a standard convention of our culture. It’d be cool to share your life story with every new acquaintance. We’d have such a greater appreciation for those around us. It really shows that appearances are deceiving and that we should always withhold superficial judgements about people until we hear their story and walk in their shoes.

Anyway.

Classes begin on Wednesday. I will be taking the following classes this semester, and I can barely wait!:

  • Philosophy of Knowledge (Epistemology)
  • Philosophy and the Natural Sciences
  • Philosophy of Psychology (Advanced Philosophy of Mind)
  • Existential Philosophy
  • Modern Philosophy
  • History of Economic Thought

Eighteen credits right there, and worth every one. I decided that I like school, and that I want it bad enough. That I am done being inactive. I need to be busy. Beyond busy.

History of Economic Thought is the only economics class I’ll be taking this semester. It deals with  the evolution of economic ideas from the ancient Greeks to the contemporary world with attention to the seminal thoughts of Adam Smith, David Ricardo, J. S. Mill, Alfred Marshall, and J. M. Keynes.

I’m not exactly keen on resolutions, but I do like renewing commitments and redefining goals according to priorities. These include:

  • Eat better
  • Work out 4 days a week
  • Lose fat/ gain muscle
  • Be positive and optimistic
  • Smile more
  • Promptly answer phone calls and return messages
  • Budget my money/ spend less!
  • Read more! Diversify!
  • Schedule time efficiently
  • 4.0 GPA -> Study: 1 hour in class=2 hours outside of class
  • Eliminate distractions!-> no procrastination!
  • Develop “Do it now!” philosophy of action
  • Blog minimum of one page per week.
  • Finish book additions, revisions.
  • Wake up/ go to bed early: Never sleep in or stay up late!
  • No more drinking (Can I? Yes. Should I? Hm…)
  • No smoking
  • Look at goals daily
  • Create a purpose: long term, mid and short term.
  • Stay organized and clean

These are just a handful, but extremely important nonetheless. I’ve thought or struggled with one of these recently and need to make a point to stick to it. Anyway. Sleepy. More thoughts tomorrow.

“When you want something bad enough, you make the time – regardless of your other obligations. The truth is most people just don’t want it enough. Then they protect their ego with the excuse of time.” – Rework