What?

So, for me, I tend to boil all other philosophical questions into one. Simply put, that seminal proposal is “What is?” which may be taken as a question or a statement depending on context. From that shaky ground, I bravely journey out across the universal sea of existence.

But in order to sail the ocean of “is” we need to first unleash the boat from the dock of “what” and that will take some doing.

And first, to break free of what, we have to identify all of what as opposed to all of nothing.

As I said, I am unique. In that view, I am like everything else. From what I can tell, what is the same as I. All of what is fashioned in a unique way. As it turns out, only that fashioned from nothing may be the same. So, what seems a singular contradiction in the beginning, yet what indicates a harmony with nothing in the end.

Hopefully you agree, when employing the words “what” and “nothing” and “is” and “isn’t” in a rather random song, this language used to express any idea hides the truth of that particular idea very well.

But, stay with me, the flame of that idea burns nonetheless.

It is so easy to say that nothing really exists, perhaps only nothing exists, especially when the flame appears to die or when we turn out the lights.

About this I learned the hard way when I was young. There was a time when I believed the concept of what, of everything, of anything, only existing in my mind’s eye. I truly thought that if I did not perceive anything, then only nothing would be there.

This, on the surface, seems contradictory since we don’t really perceive nothing, do we? Nothing seems indescribable. We tend to only perceive what. Still, life quickly offered a lesson and ran me straight into the harmony of what and nothing, a revelation brought to light by my own nerves and, indeed, the very marrow of my bones.

All it took to dash this unusual concept from my brain was a short walk around the living room one early summer morning, blindfolded, nose and mouth gagged temporarily, ears comfortably stuffed with numbing silence. I sensed only nothing.

Yet, what was that damned unforeseen coffee table, it’s location reported by the pain of my unprotected toe forcefully stubbed into it, that caused me to immediately rethink my theory. Clearly, I deduced, what is still out there regardless of whether I correctly sense what or not.

My mother, witnessing this calamitous experiment in her living room on that lovely summer’s day, was cautious in her evaluation of my display. Quickly and hopelessly demolishing my thoughts on this matter, I believe it was at that point that she seriously questioned my accurate understanding of what and I began to reconstruct my own ideas as well.

But here, you see, can my vision of what be the same as yours? Did you also stub your toe on a coffee table at some point? Is it impossible for you to understand what I mean by what? Or is what a truth that defies our individual, unique explanations, regardless of our self-centered perceptions? Can we all tie the boat up to an immobile principle of what or are we reduced to only anchoring it in the general vicinity of context?

Well, I think that is correct, that only context will keep us afloat here. When defining what, my idea is a word that represents all the matter in the universe, known and unknown, perceived well or not perceived at all.

So far, so good?

Cheers,
MEB

De-Gennois

The ship has already left port but a belated realization arises to double check the manifest and ensure all passengers have boarded safely.

A recent reading of the original Genesis brought back some painful memories. It was the first time I read that chapter since I was small, the first time I read it because I simply wanted to read it, but, strangely, it still had the same effect on me. Just a few pages into a long and pointless genealogy, filled with wandering symbology and unbelievable representations of our origins, and I just wanted to immediately turn to the last page of the last chapter to see if any of this was even worth my time.

Sound familiar to you?

But we know that jumping straight to Revelations is probably not a good idea, right? There’s a bit of the story in between that may arguably be too important to miss. Why does the Bible do that to me? I don’t know but I can’t dwell on the Bible for long.

The point today is to get this burden off my head and to tip our collective chapeau’s in the direction of Misters Derrida and Clinton. Therefore, as we begin a discussion of what is is, we must define what is is not.

Now, why begin there? Is that jumping ahead? I don’t think so because it comes to my attention that philosophy is never much more than a quest for the definition of it’s own purpose. Pick any scholar and read what is written about the meaning of philosophy. I think you’ll find that few agree.

And, like the Bible, I don’t like to linger too long on etymology’s doorsteps since the residents of that community seem to move around a bit too often as well. But I personally accept the Greek inference when it comes to the word itself. If you are my “philo” then you are my friend who I love. And if you are knowledge, then I name you beautiful “Sophia”. And with that, I am naïvely happy to begin asking questions.

To begin, we could hop around philosophical inquiry with “What is the meaning of life?” or “What is existence?“ or any of a number of other interesting questions. In fact, scholars today like to break philosophy into little bits, placing the bits in appropriately named pigeon holes here and there in order to deal with it all somewhat more scientifically. And unlike many other academic concerns, it’s important to note that the history of philosophy itself is an entirely separate order.

I believe a telling indication of what is to come, perhaps, is that only humans think like this. Only humans give birth to these questions. Maybe alien life forms will teach us differently some day. But philosophy, for now, is the natural child of human curiosity. We don’t have much more to work with regarding the origin. More on this later, of course.

But from the very bowels of this Frankenstein-like child roars a monstrous question which gathers all the vigilant townsfolk into an angry lynch mob, jumping as they are wont to do to the last page of the last chapter. What, then, they scream, is the most important question in philosophy? What are we really trying to have knowledge of? What do we want to know?

In the modern world, there are those who summarize the answers to those questions with “everything” and those who answer with “anything”, clearly two distinct possibilities. A third possibility is “consensus” and perhaps you can come up with a fourth or fifth. I admit, I am also prone to simplifying these questions when I am able to do so.

Quite often, however, it is at this point that my friends respond with a colorful description of their anguish when even considering the answers to such questions. A typical cop-out is to define it all as “too deep” for further discussion. Others will confess they are simply not capable of reaching any conclusion. Others may describe certain ailments, headaches and the like, when pondering the imponderable. Well, those are all good and comforting replies, in my opinion. As the modern athletes say: no pain, no gain.

Now, a pause to refresh and consider what questions I painfully ask myself.

Cheers,
MEB

Genisis

So, after several stop-starts, here we are and here is where it finally begins.

For some on this earth, the only exercise worthy of participation is one of communication. As we’ve come to witness, this rarely involves the actual give and take of information. Rather, it most often degenerates into a description of one’s own lonely perception.

Relevancy is critical to this process. We can’t close our minds to the subject at hand and we’ve seen how some can’t hold the topic long enough to stay within the bounds. Timing is equally important. I recall that when these errors are combined, those who say the wrong thing at the wrong time are forced outside of the circle. When a rude and unknowing third crowds in with an undesired and inappropriate declaration, the first person will often turn to the second and, after a pause to shake off the interruption, will move forward with, “So, you were saying?”

The danger is this may turn into a futile monologue, just another muted voice to be ignored in echoing the wilderness like so many countless others. But I am now urged to begin in any case.

I am urged by friends who share some of my concerns and quite often differ with my opinions. Yet, I think I may have struck a chord a long time ago when I once described to them that I felt this avenue could be like a virtual campfire. I was hoping that we could sit underneath the stars together, in the pitch black, with only the flickering glow of hot ashes to give reluctant light to our dreams and best kept secrets. If you’ve ever spent a moment like that in your life, then you know how comforting it can be to let those secrets go in the middle of the night.

This will be a subject of a continuing discussion but let me tell you up front that the difference between me and you is unmistakable and profound. Your perception and my perception will never completely agree. I am convinced of few other immutable truths in this world. If 360 people sat around the campfire, they would all describe a relatively different view, height of the flame, and warmth of burning embers. That, you can count on. But it is sufficient that we all observe the same fire nonetheless and I, at pole 90, will never feel like you do, at pole 270, unless you put some effort into describing it accurately to me.

We are talking here about communication and I am trying to tell you how important your participation in this process is to me. Unlike some others, I listen to what people say. I spend many hours contemplating the meaning of the words of others and I choose my own words very carefully, rest assured.

It comes immediately to mind that I do not expect that people are necessarily prone to communicating well nor are they in any way alone in their desire to share their views. Speaking, relaying, commiserating, are definitely learned skills and surely all natural methods of existence for beings on this earth. I admit I am rather poor in personal encounters. I need more time to think about things and this avenue suits me better.

And, stop now, before you go thinking that you’re special in this regard, realize that humans are not singled out for their ability to communicate. Birds squawk, lions roar, and bees shake and shimmy, all relaying their impulses throughout the nest, the den and the hive. Even ants speak to each other. Ants, as it turns out, can teach us a lot about ourselves. So, animals and insects of the world, you are also welcome here.

That leads me to the most often used word, “I”, which represents a unique personality. I really try to keep “I” out of it but I am burdened with several disorders, not the least of which are ego, procrastination, ineptitude and extreme feelings of inadequacy. The one thing that strikes me, however, when stepping up the ladder to visit all levels of our society, is that I routinely encounter other cavemen who are no more sure of themselves than I am. That fact offers some odd satisfaction but the only real difference between me and them is that I listen far more closely, to themselves and myself, than they do or than they are capable of doing.

Getting ahead of myself here but just felt that something must be said about any intended theme. At first, it will seem that there is no intended theme but wanted you to know that is an incorrect perception. I promise all of it will tie in together quite nicely as we proceed. And I don’t like to break promises.

The floor is yours.

Cheers to all, MEB