Richibi's Weblog

Beethoven piano sonata no 23, opus 57, “Appassionata”‏

despite its apparently appropriate appearance

Beethoven’s “Appassionata” once again was

not so titled by Beethoven, but posthumously

even only, by an otherwise inconsequential

publisher with respect to our story, it is filled

with brilliance and verve, as had been

Beethoven’s wont, but a new spirit has

invaded this work, to my mind, which

hadn’t been evident in his earlier, even

more recent sonatas

Beethoven has ceded to contemplation,

no longer merely the bravura that bristled

thrillingly when his fingers flew across a

dazzled, surely, keyboard, dashing off

feats of musical dexterity, indeed of

outright improbable prestidigitation, the

inspired and omnipotent fury of a youth

in all his promise and pulsating

exhilaration

here, in the second movement mostly,

the very heart of the piece, his quest is

philosophical, this is no longer merely

a musical air, but a striving for meaning

from here on Beethoven, where earlier

he’d been an adventurer, a Johnny

Appleseed, if you’ll remember my calling

him that, in his idyllic “Pastorale“, full of

determination and fire, still impervious

to any danger, now has suffered doubt,

and begins here, at the height of his

compositional powers to display it

this is no longer entertainment, this is

conversation, it’s like going from the

Beatles’ “I Want to Hold Your Hand“ to

John Lennon’s “Imagine“ having been

through the intermediate “Sergeant

Pepper“, the later works meant to

actually change the world, not only

just to regale it

this is also only the start, Beethoven

will become extraordinary, a sage,

music’s highest priest, and prophet

watch, listen, wonder

Richard

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Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (11)‏

Date: Tue, 12 Mar 2013 15:56:00 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

Richard,

Forgive me for saying so, but it seems to me that your philosophy is quite incongruent with your personality, which is passionate, sensitive and kind. As far as I can tell, you’re much more gregarious than the demented Nietzsche.

If, as you wrote at the beginning, you can’t even be sure that I exist, why are you taking the trouble to have this conversation? If everything is in a flux, what is there to “grasp” and “tackle”? If all is a figment of the imaginations of beings in their separate cages, what’s the point of conversation? You’re still trapped in your own cage anyway.

Kant may be wrong about some things, but I do agree with him about the difference between noumenon and phenomenon. Our thoughts revolve around the phenomenal, and consequently, they are in flux, “peripheral” as you put it, or evolving, as some believe. But, this doesn’t negate the noumenon, the eternal and unchanging. To use an analogy in biology, when you observe the growth of a seed or an embryo, it seems to be changing constantly, and if you didn’t know what it was, you would think that everything was in flux, but all the while it remains the same substance: a human being

what’s to forgive, Nemo, I don’t mind at all being

called “passionate, sensitive and kind”

thank you

and you are right, after a study of philosophy I

went my own way, which was what philosophy

had taught me to do, it is a conversation, I

learned, rather than an ideology, that secular

cousin of theology, either system oftentimes

flagrantly autocratic, for instance Plato, or

take your pick of religions

along the way I discovered miracles, I wanted to

talk to my beloved, but somehow I’d only asked

my dad, who’d died earlier the same year, to

speak to me from beyond the grave, I’m your

son, I said, I’ll hear you, and, Nemo, I did, and

all, eventually, the others, I’ve been talking to

all of them ever since

this might seem very strange, of course, but

you can tell from what I’ve written to date,

surely, that I’m not entirely demented,

conversely, maybe I’m inspired, maybe just

eccentric, who knows, take your pick, so

long as I’m not, I think, hurting anybody

Kant, incidentally, didn’t affirm the noumenon,

he merely did not deny it, so he’s made room

for my unorthodox constructions, and miracles,

as a corollary, in general

this was also Descartes’ dilemma essentially,

or Shakespeare’s, “There are more things in

heaven and earth, Horatio, / Than are dreamt

of in your philosophy.“

also my own

we cannot beyond our consciousness affirm,

we can only interpret, I am the only thing I can

affirm, the rest is what you make it, for better

or for worse, this from “the demented“, Nemo,

Nietzsche

therefore Beethoven or Proust, or maybe

even me

I believe in miracles, and so I experience them

I’d asked a friend on a cold winter day with

only icicles everywhere in the city, what

should we do, let’s go out and look for

beautiful things, he replied, we did, and all

the icicles consequently shimmered and

glistened, I’d found a key to finding beauty,

another valuable parable

later, needing more than just beautiful things

to cheer me I asked for miracles, which, Nemo,

like the earlier beautiful things, profusely in

their turn abounded, you just have to be

ready to receive them

I believe there is a noumenon, but I’ll never

be able to prove it, though I feel it profoundly,

and judiciously sort out with the help of

wisdom and poetry, truth and beauty, all

I can muster, the information I receive

I hope it might be of some service

to me there is poetry behind everything,

shimmering, glistening magic, but I’m not

sure that’s what everyone sees, nor wants

to see, I won’t try to impose my perspective,

I can only tell what I see

and I’ve long seen more than mere facts,

what I see, have long seen, is an inherently

transcendental reality

which suggests the probability of other

noumenal worlds

so, to answer your question, I do think

you indeed exist, though I can’t be

absolutely sure of it, though you might

not be a figment of my imagination you

are nevertheless to me merely my

impression of you, but who really are

you, that’s a tricky question, cause you

don’t even know

meanwhile there’s no harm in sharing

even a virtual, irony of ironies,

conversation

cheers

Richard

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March 13, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (10)‏

Date: Fri, 8 Mar 2013 21:28:13 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

Hi Richard,

Have you thought of writing or already written memoirs? I think I’d enjoy reading them.
Your second story reminded me of the Confessions by St. Augustine,
in which he grieved over the death of his beloved friend.

Descartes might say this about your “This is the census” moment: “I lisp, therefore I exist”.
But how would you interpret the “parable”?

What caused you to stop ministering at the palliative care unit after ten years?

a parable is in the eye of the beholder, Nemo,

nearly by definition, and therefore wide in the

possible breadth of its interpretation, that wide

net, should it catch the imagination of many,

can describe a potent, though indefinable,

moral precept that even whole communities

can then propagate and follow, mysticized

fairy tales, for these last serve a similar

purpose, maybe the age of the listener,

reader, here, is the distinguishing factor,

adults have a hard time with fairy tales

in the story that I told, about a cosmic

dimension to my lisp, if you’re asking what

moral precept I derived from that tale, it is

that something was profoundly watching,

unobtrusive, but gently ready to nudge just

enough to inspire hope, like a second wind

I felt, however solipsistically, that something,

someone, was listening, and that was enough,

that indeed would be, wouldn’t you think,

though the information was entirely

metaphorical and abstract

but I’ve experienced too many moments of

transcendence not to subsribe to a more

than merely rational agenda, Shakespeare

again, “There are more things in heaven and

earth, Horatio, / Than are dreamt of in your

philosophy.” – “Hamlet“, act 1, scene 5,

lines 186–187 – which I heartily second

no philosopher has ever admitted that but

Proust and Beethoven, which is why I’ve

somewhat put aside classic philosophy,

though I love the Moralists, after Rome

and before Christianity, Saint Augustine,

I’m afraid, however, distorted the facts,

as well as his great acuity, in order to

entrench a mythology, the dominion of

a numinous, entirely male, incidentally,

Trinity, forcing Truth into a submissive,

not to say penitent, and furthermore

impotent, corner until the very Renaissance,

specifically until Descartes, and, by the way,

until his near contemporary, Shakespeare,

1564 -1616, nearly the equal of Beethoven

and Proust in his philosophical perspicacity,

“To be, or not to be” is of course the first

existential soliloquy of our era

Descartes, 1596 – 1650

after ten years at palliative care I had changed,

and the unit had changed, it had become more

regimented and constrictive than it had been in

its early, more companionable, and not yet so

regimented, years, I now had to go through

security to get to my station, which was not at

all the spirit in which I’d entered the service

I am now, I’m imagining, a poet, and live and

write accordingly, these very missives, Nemo,

are my memoirs, at present you are my muse

thanks

I hope you’re “enjoy[ing] reading them“

Richard

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March 12, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (9)

Date: Wed, 6 Mar 2013 16:20:33 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

Richard,

You wrote, “I am at the most aware of only one thought, that thought being that
something is thinking,”

Unless you argue that something can think without a thought, there are at least two thoughts here. First, the awareness that something is thinking. Second, if something is thinking, that something is thinking a thought. As you said, “consciousness of my consciousness”. There are two “consciousness”:

There is a thinker who is thinking a thought, and there is an observer who is thinking of the thinker. If the thinker and the observer are the same, the thought becomes an infinite recursion, like an image reflected in two parallel mirrors. This is partly why I said people who speculate this have way too much time, in fact, only eternity would suffice.

the world and everything in it is in the eye of the beholder

Where is the beholder himself, if everything is in his eye? Does the world exist when the beholder closes his eye?

you’ve grasped the Cartesian dilemma,

Nemo, the solipsistic circumference – see

“This is the census“ again on that last

series of sibilants – that defines our, not

eternal, as you suggest, but very “mortal

coil“, our incarnate cage, or soul, if you

prefer, where “one man in his time plays

many parts“, or woman, solipsistically

and fatally, however remarkable, or

even historic, their contribution

Plato died, Proust died, either leaving

merely ephemeral ideas and, however

celebrated and honoured, dust

it is a frightening, and sobering, conclusion,

we cannot escape the prison of our reason

but with the key alone of our imagination,

for everything beyond the logic of that first

statement is conjecture, the play of our fears

and desires

something is thinking, I think, then identify

with, become the vessel of, that idea, or, if

you prefer, that thought

that thought is still a conjecture, but it has

an immediacy you can’t deny, it is your

entire, quite literally, reality

but any other thought is of course also

conjecture, just without the manifest

incontrovertibility of the idea of one’s own

existence, my orange might be your red,

but I’ll never be you, or what I interpret as

you, which is not at all how the other guy

sees you either, my lens is merely my

picture of the world, what is real

reason has done a great job of holding it

all together for most of us, but it rests

fundamentally on the wings of our fallible,

of course, imagination, but for the absolute

apparently miracle of mathematics, which

seems to subsist even without our

speculation, popping up like signposts

everywhere, an existential guardian angel,

Pythagoras, maybe, was right

not even dimensions, Nemo, I woke up

after a week in a coma, a car accident, in

a white room, quiet, empty, with only what

seemed like motes floating on a ray of light

coming in from a window, still, ethereal, and

perhaps, I wondered, part of a new afterlife,

who knew, I couldn’t assume I was alive, I

only knew that I existed in an unfamiliar

environment

height, I reasoned, and width, I thought,

were evident, there are at least here two

dimensions, and calmly contemplated

the possibility of the same exile the villains

had felt early in “Superman“, cast away in

their two-dimensional prisons

Kant was wrong, I concluded, we do not

assume time and space as initial certainties,

I don’t have depth yet

later a nurse came in from the centre of my

frame creating at least the impression of a

third spatial element, after which I

concentrated on getting better

that my first thought was of Kant after a

week in a coma has remained for me a

searing example of my essentially

cerebral proclivities, be they ever

nevertheless so fundamentally

unsubstantiated, I think that’s a riot

“Does the world exist when the beholder closes

his eye“, you ask

who knows

though I would think so

Richard

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March 9, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (8)‏

Date: Thu, 7 Mar 2013 16:48:26 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

It’s very touching story, Richard. Thanks for sharing. Though the last sentence is a bit anti-climatic, since I have as much reverence for Proust as you Plato. 🙂

For how long did you volunteer in the palliative care unit?

so many pathways have opened up, Nemo,

in our conversation, I’d determined to tackle

them in their chronological order despite

the immediacy, for me, of each question,

each philosophical paradox you might

propose, the order of your submissions

but this reply of yours has me still laughing,

indeed guffawing, and I didn’t want to forego

the possibility of transferring the spontaneity

and exhilaration of the moment if in delivering

my response swiftly I could, timing talks, in

other words, too

that our views would be so diametrically

opposed, my Proust your Plato, is, I think,

hilarious, even, I believe, maybe karmic

another story, another, for me, it appears,

maybe parable, while grieving I’d taken

time off work, cause work, of course, itself

had lost all meaning, why would I hurt in a

world I no longer wanted to even live in,

I had majored in Camus, had been

prodoundly influenced by his “L’Étranger“,

“The Stranger“, and was drowning in the

Absurd

to while away the time somewhat productively

– I’d understood that to merely sit and wait

would not of itself allow me to die, and I wasn’t

about to myself wittingly end it, the conclusion

I’d reached from another revelatory moment,

but that’s another story – I took on a job as a

census worker, going from door to door,

some hundreds of them, if not thousands,

in my neighbourhood, introducing myself

each time as their census taker, “This is

the census”, I said

have you even sensed the sibilants, Nemo,

in that sentence, if you haven’t yet already

counted them, for that matter there are

even more in this corollary one

I lisp, not in a pronounced manner but,

I’m aware, somewhat noticeably, found

out that my father also did, though strangely

I’d never registered it, my mother after he’d

died, in a conversation with me, noted it

try saying “This is the census” some

hundreds if not thousands of times, Nemo,

the joke becomes cosmic, and indeed it did,

I knew God, or the entity that responded to

my prayers, was about, it was the moment

at which I first smiled, I think I might even

have giggled

I worked, or rather, I ministered, at palliative

care for ten years, to answer your other

question

cheers

Richard

psst: despite our profound, it appears,

philosophical divergences, Nemo,

let’s be friends, I would not hold

your views against you, all roads,

I believe, lead to Rome, so long as

it doesn’t block altogether one’s

path

also philosophers must always be

open to the next question, for none

of them, they know, can ever be

definite, the lesson is in the

conversation, and I’m having here

a great time

thank you

4 Comments

March 7, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (7)‏

Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2013 21:45:49 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus.

To apply Plotinus’ theory of memory to Alzheimer, and answer your earlier question. The disease damaged the first component of memory, i.e., our memory storage facility, but it leaves the second and third components intact, where “we” are most active. People afflicted with Alzheimer are no less human than the rest, because they still have their thoughts, emotions, desires, judgment and will.

To use analogy, I’d liken living with Alzheimer to walking on the beach. Our memory is like the footprints we leave in the sand, which are constantly washed away by the waves, but the lack of footprints doesn’t prevent us from continue walking/living

I have no doubt that there is a soul, a human

entity, behind even a vegetative living being,

Nemo, let me tell you a story, I worked for

years in a palliative care unit as a volunteer

after the death of my beloved, who had died

there in one of their first units in the late 80s,

it was my way of saying thank you

a woman there lay in extremis, making no

sense of the fray that stirred ceaselessly

about her, her family distraught over her

perilous state fussing and worrying,

helpless and trying to find nevertheless

purpose midst unfamiliar and stressful

feelings, awash in their stray, unsettled,

energy

their senior member, an actual pastor,

asked if I would sit by their mother’s side

while they all took a necessary break for

lunch, of course I immediately acceded,

that’s what I was there for

gently I sat by her side, I had found

solace in a particular Oriental esoteric

faith meanwhile for my own debilitating

anguish, which had bequeathed me a

chant that would settle often and with

reverence my most aggrieved moments,

little by little it had rendered

acknowledgment, resolve, and, dare I

say, even grace, to my distress

I began to murmur this chant as I lay my

hand upon her arm, she all aflutter from

her chronic delirium trying to find,

hopelessly it appeared, a place to settle,

I could only with my touch console

somewhat, I wistfully imagined

in my monotone I continued to issue

the palliative vowel sounds, surrounding

them with as much compassion and

gentle harmony as I could muster,

knowing that these must reach the soul,

something I had been discovering from

my own fraught experience

her body began to settle, there was no

question of reaching her mind, any kind

of intelligible conversation, but you do

that also with a very young child, and like

a very young child she continued to

respond

to my chant, which had been like a river

flowing, constant and murmuring, finding

the most soothing paths of a trickling

rhythm, she began to harmonize

row, row, row, your boat, she began

to sing, haltingly of course, at first

tentatively, but then with more and

more, though ever reliant, confidence

I believe that God had been talking

there to all of us, I turned to see the

family standing in the doorway, still

and hushed

where, Nemo, does that leave philosophy

therefore Proust

Richard

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March 6, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (6)‏

Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2013 20:54:23 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

Hi Richard,

Actually Plotinus posited a memory model that might be quite similar to yours if I understand you correctly. There are three components in this model, the object stored in our memory, our act of remembering as if retrieving an object from storage, and the activated/retrieved image of the object in our mind. To answer your friend’s retort, we are all three components combined, though most prominent in the second component.

You object to the idea of thoughts having their object existence outside our consciousness, but you agree that we’re aware of our thoughts at the same time as we’re aware of our own existence. Is that a fair representation of your position?

If so, thoughts have just as valid an existence in our consciousness as ourselves. Ergo, there are thoughts. 🙂

P.S. People who speculate on this stuff have way too much time on their hands

if I haven’t replied forthwith, Nemo, to your

comment, it is that I found myself with too

little time on my hands to do other things

that required my more immediate, in my

opinion, attention, though I believe time

spent speculating is never a waste of

“way too much time on [one’s} hands“,

where would Plato be, or Descartes, or

Russell, Nietzsche, Proust, yes, Proust,

my most revered lingerer, and the answer

to all my philosophical prayers, but that’s

another story I’m sure we’ll get to, if they

hadn’t dawdled around profundities

and who’s to say we’re not up to the

mark, and who could say we are, but

for conversations that test the waters,

like this one

so I, for one, will deliberate when I get

the chance, which, incidentally, is not a

lot of the time, despite objections that I

might be nevertheless still wasting it

and I return to the fray like a kid to a

very candy shop

thanks

let me point out that Plato would be

proud of us, would’ve been proud of

us, to whose time frame should we

here, do you think, refer, I think Plato

this time could take prominence, if

you’ll allow this playful speculative

divergence

this, our talk, is his Socrates discussing

with his Euthyphro, or his other acolytes,

ephebes, describing the Socratic Method,

Nemo, we’re carrying on the tradition,

which 2500 years later still vigorously

applies

Plato, incidentally, c. 428 BC – c. 347 BC

there are a few problems in your argument,

from my perspective, you say “you agree that

we’re aware of our thoughts at the same time as

we’re aware of our own existence”, but that’s an

extrapolation, I am at the most aware of only

one thought, that thought being that

something is thinking, no more, no less

but reason interjects, applies itself to

consciousness, and concludes that

something has just thought, the element

of time and memory enters the fray here,

but not yet explicitly, they are the

handmaidens of consciousness

if something is thinking, which by the very

act of thinking this I am doing, something

must be doing it, I’ve already conceived of

this consciousness as, for me, irrefutably

real, having had already an impression

of it

whatever other impression I might add to

this composite, however, is arbitrary and

therefore moot with respect to what might

actually philosophically be real

the world and everything in it is in the eye

of the beholder

think about it

thoughts are an extrapolation from all

that we can be sure we know, but all

of it is nothing more than a dream

see Shakespeare

          “………………………..We are such stuff
           As dreams are made on; and our little life
            Is rounded with a sleep.”

“The Tempest“ – act 4, scene 1

lines 156 -158

Richard

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March 3, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (5)‏

Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2013 10:01:30 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus.

Let’s go through it point by point.

1. When someone says, “I think”, he is obviously thinking of something, i.e., thoughts. I’m aware and conscious of my thoughts.

2. “I think” necessarily means there are thoughts.

3. The difference between the statements “I think” and “there are thoughts” is that the latter does not presuppose the existence of the “I”.

4. To prove the existence of the “I”, we cannot presuppose its existence. Therefore, we cannot use the statement “I think” or anything with a subject “I”.

5. We are left with the statement, “There are thoughts”.

Which of the above arguments do you disagree with and why?

first of all, Nemo, let me say that I haven’t had as
much fun since a couple of weeks ago when a

friend and I were trying to come to a conclusion

about the meaning of memory, is memory all of

one’s memories, or is it the process of

remembering

I thought the process set the thing in motion

after which the memories themselves took

hold

but for the process to take hold you need at

least two memories, my friend more or less

retorted, I paraphrase

where does that leave us

I’m still thinking about it

perhaps we’ll end up at the same place,

loggerheads, but let’s try

I object to your second proposition, ““I

think” necessarily means there are thoughts“,

I believe “I think” to mean only “I think”,

nothing more, nothing less, these two

words are our speculative arena

but I admit you have a point, to think

presupposes a thought, and perhaps

not as peripherally as I’d thought

previously, if I refer to my earlier,

memory, model

but before you jump up and down in

apparent victory remember that the

thought cannot be thought without

the thinker, who initiates the thought

an apparent paradox, much like the

relation between energy and matter,

which came first

I believe the consciousness of my

consciousness came first, and from

there I evolved the process that gives

order to my world, memory, and then

its development into reason

but that’s just what I think, and, of

course, I could be wrong

essentially I, of course, must be wrong

somewhere, but I’ll never know where

nor will I know where I’m right, ever

on questions of philosophical speculation,

of course, without the advantage of

mathematics, the closest thing I can think

of, incidentally, to what we think of as God,

or is that, to what I think of, me, no one else,

what do I know of what others are thinking

of, as God, there goes He, She, It, out the

window, as a Jungian idea of collective

unified consciousness, or as a frozen

Platonic, universally conceded, ideal

what I do know is that I exist

that’s also, I think, all you know

the rest is entirely speculation

thank you Descartes

Richard

psst: all that speculation, note, is what has,

to my mind, made a paradise, for some,

of our world, for others a work of always

fascinating and wondrous invention

read Proust

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March 3, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (4)

Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2013 05:43:44 +0000
To: Richibi’s Weblog
From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

The Latin “cogito ergo sum” is actually closer to the interpretation I had in mind at the beginning,”There are thoughts, therefore there is a thinker”. If you accept that as a valid argument, then you’re closer to accepting the existence of God. “There is creation, therefore there is a Creator”.

The Republic of Plato is not ruled by an autocrat, but by Reason and knowledge. Come to think of it, Plato should be hailed as the Father of Enlightenment. 🙂 I’ve written a post on the Republic too, if you like to discuss it further.

Plato’s theory of the nature of the universe in Timaeus encompasses both change and immutability, and Plotinus explains this in Ennead III.

“Cogito, ergo sum”, Nemo, I have to insist, is

not “There are thoughts“, as you argue, it is

“Cogito”, “I think”, “I grasp consciousness”,

“I perceive”, it is not an acknowledgment of

any more than its own consciousness, “there

are thoughts” is a further, and only peripheral,

application, thoughts themselves are entirely

speculative and without any firm basis but

conjecture

this is a fundamental disagreement in our
discussion which needs to be recognized
and acknowledged, it doesn’t seem to have
been as yet

“There is creation” therefore, in my opinion,
is presumptuous at best, though the
proposition seems manifestly, even
irrationally, obvious, which has nothing to
do, nevertheless, with Descartes, and what
we’re discussing

should you wish to discuss more intuitive
subjects, I’ll pass, cause faith, and oratory,
have no basis in anything other than mere
seduction, the Greeks called it rhetoric and
sophistry

reason, of the Greeks, and of our epoch, is
still my essential arbiter, though my own
personal mystical devotion is ardent and
true

it is however, my own personal mystical

devotion, merely evident and convincing
by example, not argument

but I digress

I’ll read your post on “The Republic“, a

treatise I’ve found even repulsive, I’ll read

again “Timaeus“, or as much of it as I can

again tolerate, and read your “Ennead III“,

or did Plotinus write three “Ennead”s, I

hope to discover enlightenment

cheers

Richard

psst: o my god, he wrote Vl

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March 2, 2013

Nemo – “Ennead I” by Plotinus (3)‏

having thrilled at the very first moment of an

apparent convergence on the Internet with

a kindred spirit, of the intellect, let me point

out, rather than of the more pressing, for

some, senses, I gurgled out a ready program

of philosophical positions to him meant to

engage and perhaps more profoundly

together ponder

to my delight the conversation took hold

and is ensuing, I thought I’d share

here is the third instalment, the first two are

available on my counterpart’s impressive blog,

“Books on Trial” at his first text on Plotinus’

“Ennead”, of which to date he’s got three

at the bottom in the comments section,

should you be interested

how, of course, could you not

Richard

_____________________

Date: Sat, 2 Mar 2013 19:19:11 +0000
To Richibi’s Weblog

From: comment-reply@wordpress.com
Subject: [New comment] “Ennead I” by Plotinus

Descartes did not prove the existence of “I”. To prove that something exists, you cannot presuppose its existence and say “something” does this or that. In other words, “I exist” is the condition that comes before “I think”, not after. If Descartes wanted to prove the existence of “I”, he made the mistake of circular logic, putting the cart before the horse.Even if we grant that the individual is conscious of the “I”. Does the “I” exist as a part, a mere concept, in his thoughts, just as other people exist as mere concepts of his thoughts, or is there an “I” beyond his consciousness? To borrow the imagery of Plotinus, does the Moon exist as part of the reflection in the water, or does it exist independently outside the water?

Plato’s theory encompasses both change and immutability. They are incomplete without the other, nay, they cannot exist without the other. This is proven by our own experience. We can observe changes only because we’re using something static as a reference

first of all, Nemo, thank you for this conversation,
I’m finding this exercise very stimulating, not many
have called me on my philosophical positions, not
many, I suspect, having given these positions much
thought in the first place, you are perhaps a kindred
spirit, what a delight

and as such I can only be, respectfully and humbly
ever, forthright

in a Socratic, as it were, contract

this part of Plato, incidentally, is the only part I accept,
his celebration of the Socratic Method, to put words
later into the greater philosopher’s mouth, to me, is
highly unethical, especially to spout with that authority
such drivel

you can tell I don’t like Plato

the flurry of consciousness is the clue, in Descartes,
the moment of realization, the inkling of perception,
that allows us to know that something is behind that,
producing that, without which there would be no
actuality, that something is what we call “I”

interestingly, “Cogito, ergo sum”, the Latin, often used,
translation of the original French, “Je pense, donc je
suis”, doesn’t show an “I” in its very grammar, which
is an apt demonstration of the proposition we are
discussing

if there is conscioussness of something being

conscious, something must be being conscious,

that something Descartes called “moi”, we call

“me”, others call whatever they call it

therefore I am

but I could not have done that without consciousness,

nebulous and indeterminate consciousness, but that’s

all we have, all we’ve ever had

Plato tried to fashion an alternate, paternalistic, I might

add, conscience driven, later driven-by-Christian-fear,

reality, somewhere out there, that lasted for all of the

Middle, did I say Middle or Dark, Ages, a good thousand,

count them, thousand, years, conservatively even

speaking

Nietzsche got rid of that, finally, but still all of nearly

five hundred years later

oof

where does Plato “encompass[–] both change and

immutability“, “The Republic” makes short shrift of

that, how is this “proven by our own experience”

I like “We can observe changes only because we’re

using something static as a reference“, where did

you get that, I’ll have to ponder it

but “static” is my stumbling block, in a world
I cannot see as in any way static, autocratic,
unbending

help

read also Ovid

cheers

Richard

psst: I’m putting this thrilling conversation on my

blog, look out for it

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