Peak Experiences

From a current Salon interview with John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats:

I want to be introspective about whether I’m being a good person in my life and stuff, but I don’t wanna reflect too long or consider what the meaning is.  There was a horrible commercial not too long ago where a child whispered, “These are the days …” It was the absolute worst thing you could possibly ever say, just to sit there and stop in the middle of a peak experience and reflect on how it was a peak experience. Good way to shoot the peak experience in the head. But my realization is actually life has way more peak experiences than we think, like multiples per day. We’re constantly confronted with this reality that has a great deal in it, that is awesome.

Infested by Sphinxes–Collingwood

From Collingwood’s consistently delightful The New Leviathan (2.54):

Man’s world is infested by Sphinxes, demonic beings of mixed and monstrous nature which ask him riddles and eat him if he cannot answer them, compelling him to play a game of wits where the stake is his life and his only weapon is his tongue.

Immortal Openings, 11: Robertson Davies, Leaven of Malice

I’m reading this book with pleasure.  I always read Davies with pleasure.  And while this is not the first sentence that occurs in the novel, it is the first in the novel proper.

When Fortune decides to afflict a good man and rob him of his peace, she often chooses a fine day to begin.

A Long Decline from a Glorious Past (Davies)

Robertson Davies (from Leaven of Malice):

Life, as he conceived of it, was a long decline from a glorious past, and if a reader approaches a newspaper in that spirit, he can find much to confirm him in his belief, particularly if he has never examined any short period of the past in day-to-day detail.

What Does Husserl Want?

I am preparing for a seminar on Plato, the Sophists, and psychologism this Fall.  Among the texts we will read is (sections of) Husserl’s Logical Investigations.  I have been working on the early sections on logic this morning.  Husserl complains of the incompleteness of all the sciences; none have that “inner clarity and rationality”:  as theories, they are not “crystal-clear”, the functions of all their concepts and propositions are not fully intelligible, not all of their propositions have been exactly analyzed.  –My question is this:  is this crystalline clarity Husserl demands itself crystal-clear, fully intelligible?  If not even mathematics (to take the crucial case) exhibits this crystalline clarity, then what grasp of what Husserl wants do we have?  Do we want a more mathematical mathematics?  Hard to see how that would help, since it would presumably only apply the lack of inner clarity and rationality to itself.  (And presumably not in a “fight fire with fire”-ish way.)

Now it is true that, in an important sense, Husserl attempts to explain what he wants across much of the rest of the book, often enough by the example of his phenomenological practice.  But it remains necessary to be aware that we do not really know what Husserl wants in the early sections:  clarity is something about which we have to become clear.  (Consider how distant Wittgenstein’s desiderated clarity is from Husserl’s.)

The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.

I’ve been re-watching The Adventures.  I had forgotten how silly and fun they are, how full of reference to classic westerns and to many other things.  If you like your whiskey with a broadly farcical chaser, step up to the bar and enjoy.  (Fans of Firefly should find the show especially interesting.)

lordbowler

Seeing a Cow in a Hat Shop (Ryle)

A cow wearing a hat

Ryle:

The epistemologist with the usual theoretical habits may bring himself to attend to the ways in which we use task-verbs, and may come to agree that our uses of achievement-verbs are correlated in certain important ways with our uses of task-verbs.  But he will still feel that a theory is being based upon what is exceptional rather than what is regular.  For ordinarily which I report having seen a cow or detected a smell of gas, I cannot, with the best will in the world, report the prior occurrence of a process of scrutiny.  Seeing a cow is not something accomplished as the terminal stage of a methodical process, however swift.  No task was accomplished, undertaken or envisaged.  I just saw a cow.  I did not so manage things or so organise my doings that at the last I saw a cow.  See a cow was, in an important way, the first thing that happened…

Now we must of course grant that the recognition on sight of the obvious cow is not the last move in a series of moves…But the non-occurrence of preliminaries does not entail the non-exercise of a technique.  We do not say that someone is skilful at something only when he frowns and hesitates over the doing of it; indeed, one of the signs that someone has achieved complete mastery of an art like signalling, pruning or long-division, is that he regularly performs perfectly the ordinary tasks in it without his wondering how to do it or preparing himself by any self-reminders, exhortation, exercises or other preliminaries.

Now we are all in the position of having achieved perfect mastery of the art of recognizing on sight the customary occupants of our customary environment–at least, when the light is good or fair, our health is normal, we are not dizzy or standing on our heads, looking through strange optical instruments and so on.  When all is plain sailing, no navigational problems are considered, nor do we try to make out what we are looking at when we get a fair view of a lonely cow in the sort of place where cows are among the things that we are not surprised to come across.  Of course we had once to learn how cows look at different distances, from different angles and in different lights, as well as where cows can be expected to be found, and it is just because that lesson has been learned and not forgotten that the cows is now obvious to us.  Its obviousness is the fact that the technique of recognizing it on sight has no longer to be exercised in a tentative way–and when we do have to exercise the technique in a tentative way, as when a cow confronts us in a thick fog, or in a hat shop, what we are looking at is for a moment or more not obviously a cow.  And, of course, the fact that it is ordinarily obvious that what we are looking at is a cow does not exclude the chance of its not being a cow at all.  It may be a goat, or a hole in the hedge looking like a cow.  Or there may be nothing that looks like a cow and I am just ‘seeing things’.  That such cases are exceptional is part of the meaning of such words as ‘see’. ‘perceive’, and so on, as well as of words like ‘obvious’.  If ‘I see a cow’ were not usually true, I could not fancy I saw a cow…

A Lack of a Sense of Reality?

Philosophers, you know, are disconnected, hot air balloons climbing to the height at which they pop in one distant burst; they are abstracted and lost in someone’s thoughts, sometimes their own; they are characterized by a peculiarly undistressed but by-their-fingertips hold on what is real.  –Consider this little turn from St. Thomas, offering a help for sorrow.  “Take a warm bath,” he says, “and get some sleep.”  Sheesh.  Only a philosopher…

Minding Your Business While Writing (Thoreau)

Thoreau:

The forcible writer does not go far for his themes. His ideas are not far-fetched.  He derives inspiration from his chagrins and satisfactions.  His theme being ever an instant one, his own gravity assists him, gives impetus to what he says.  He minds his business.  He does not speculate while others drudge for him.

A Few Words from Bill Mallonee

Bill Mallonee–the centerpiece of Vigilantes of Love, recorder of 50-some albums–writes the following in a preface to the liner notes of his two new albums:

Maybe it takes years of doing something long & well before you “wake up” and realize that you’ve put your own style, or own imprimatur on it. Perhaps it took years of writing songs, recording albums & then laying the wares in front of folks every night for me to “spark;” to feel comfortable in my own skin.

Here’s where it went: Eventually, one comes to that (glorious, liberating) place as an artist where you can leave the hipsters to their hip-ness, be amused by the cultish-ness of the blogger/critics, and walk away from trends.

Eventually you can say: “Hey, this is what I do. Maybe not for everybody, nor is it meant to be. But, it’s good and it’s what I do.”

Maybe that’s how an artist is “born.”