Saturday, December 07, 2024

Circular Quests and Spiraling Questions

Just as questions provoke answers, answers generate more questions.

And here we are.

Yes, here we are. The question is, is this a circular process or a spiraling one? One can answer it either way, but our response is another question: WTF

For if it is truly circular, regarding it as so presumes exit from it, i.e., seeing it from outside or above. But if it is a spiral, this presumes a destination, or at least faith in one. 

But science can never arrive at this telos, only aim there. And supposing we could arrive there, wouldn't this just make it another circle? A Theory of Everything would be a Theory of Nothing, the ultimate tautology. We would be sealed in immanence.

It seems to me that the principle of freedom must presuppose exit from the circle. In other words, if determinism is true, then no one leaves the circle. Which is why Dávila says,
Freedom is not an end but a means. Whoever sees it as an end in itself does not know what to do with it when he gets it.  

This kind of freedom results in a prison without walls, so to speak. Thus,

Today what is called "intellectual liberation" is a change of prisons.

For freedom is literally meaningless if it is only freedom from. In other words, absent a telos -- the freedom to -- it is another name for absurdity. Ironically,

Total liberation is the process that constructs the perfect prison.

Perfect because it is both ontological and epistemological: we know neither what we are nor what is, and we certainly don't know what to do about it, since any direction is as good as any other -- like being lost in the desert without a map.

Which touches on yesterday's post, in the sense that both man and world -- (•) and ⬤ -- are inexhaustible mysteries. In this context, 

Freedom is not indispensable because man knows what he wants and who he is, but in order for him to know who he is and what he wants.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that man must be free, because if he weren't, he could never know it. Again, we would be confined to the circle; we wouldn't believe things because they are true, but because we are determined to believe them:

The determinist is impatient with his opponents, as if they had the freedom to speak as they wished to.

It's no one's fault if you reject free will. 

Correct: To admit the existence of errors is to confess the reality of free will.

On the other hand, no one believes man has no constraints whatsoever:

In any proposition about man its paradoxical fusion of determinism and freedom must emerge.

Thus, it seems it isn't a matter of circle or spiral, but both. Man is uniquely capable of using the rigid boundary conditions of a lower level in order to seek freedom at a higher level.

For example, we are constrained by the 26 letters of the alphabet, with which we have invented approximately 500,000 words so far. The list is finite but always growing, and I'm doing my part. Now, imagine trying to assemble a "dictionary of sentences." This would be an impossible task, for nearly everything we say has never been said before in the same way. 

The point is, language is both constrained and more or less infinite. Gemini?
Your statement captures a fundamental paradox of language: it is simultaneously constrained and infinitely expansive. Languages are governed by specific rules of grammar and syntax. These rules constrain the ways in which words can be combined to form meaningful sentences.

However, despite these constraints, language is capable of generating an infinite number of unique expressions. In essence, language is a finite set of rules and sounds that can be combined in an infinite number of ways to create meaning. 

Now, what is the principle of language? If being is a logosphere of meaning, then being and knowing must be kissin' cousins. 

Back to the question of questions. What are they, and why do we have them?

Good question.  

I recall Schuon saying something to the effect that there is far more Light in a good question than a bad answer. Moreover,

No answer can be more intelligent than the question that gave rise to it.

Putting these two together, the most intelligent question will permit the most Light, and even be of that Light. Or at least a reflected image of it.

Shifting seers for a moment, I'm reading a book by N.T. Wright called Surprised by Hope. In it he says that "All language about the future... is simply a set of signposts pointing into a fog." 

This is not quite true with regard to garden-variety scientific knowledge -- for example, we can confidently predict where the earth will be 365 days hence, even if we cannot predict where we will be on the planet, or even if we'll still be on the planet.

But "supposing someone came forward out of the fog to meet us?" Now, that would be something, for it would imply the telos of the spiral manifesting in time. 

The following passage directly addresses the question of circle vs. spiral:
the Christian worldview is a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Not to have closure at the end of the story -- to be left with a potentially endless cycle, round and round with either the same things happening again and again or simply perhaps the long outworking of karma -- would be the antithesis of the story told by the apostles and by the long line of their Jewish predecessors.

This, I suppose, is the story of the end made middle that middle might become end; or spiral made circle that circle might become spiral.

The endless spiral of trinitarian love, truth, and beauty? 

Some questions have more Light than any answer I could provide. How about an image, Gemini?

Eh, a human can do better:

Friday, December 06, 2024

Between Scientific Myth and Perennial Wisdom

That's more or less where man lives -- in that mysterious Between between immanent science and transcendent reality. So, it's not really a between -- which implies two -- rather, more of a "betreble," since there are three terms involved. 

It would be preferable to use abstract and unsaturated symbols to designate the three, since we don't know what any of them truly are, which is to say "God," "self," and "matter." Each is a kind of fathomless -- but fruitful -- mystery. In any event. our two little mysteries -- self and world -- are relative to the Big Mystery of Celestial Central.

If God and man are O and (•), what shall we call the world? How about , because it implies an inverse image of O, and its circularity (or sphericality) connotes earth or cosmos; it is God seen through a glass darkly, to coin a phrase. The heavens declare the glory of God, and all that.

But this relationship is only revealed in (•); or rather, (•) explicates the implicit intelligibility of . The intelligibility is always there, but it requires us to bring it out. 

You could even say these three are holographically copresent in each other, i.e., God in man, man in God, world in man, man in world, world in God, etc. This will require some explanation, but if it weren't the case, then nothing works, and the whole durn cosmic system collapses into postmodern gibberish or scientistic nonsense. 

Bob, what is the benefit of your hastily concocted symbols? What is their added value?

First and foremost to preserve the Mystery, and to prevent us from pretending to know what is 1) endlessly knowable, but 2) unknowable per se. They also help to avoid miscommunication, because when I, for example, use the word "God" in a sentence, the reader may have a completely different meaning from the one I intend. 

In the book we've been discussing, the interviewer suggests that a literal Theory of Everything is unattainable --  that "the bottom line is forever scientifically unknowable." Which is self-evidently true, for "any cosmology can only be a 'probable myth'" (Bérard).

Fightin' words!

The tenured can fight it out amongst themselves, but we (un)know better, that "the search for [any] limit is impossible, since, metaphysically, neither the beginning nor the end of space is part of it and, similarly, neither the beginning nor end of time is part of it, by definition" (ibid.) Any such model "comes up against Planck's wall," but even more fundamentally, Gödel's ceiling.

However, the latter is more of a glass ceiling, since it points to its own transcendence, so to speak. In other words, man -- or (•) -- cannot be enclosed in his own models of . 

Put more simply, Every beginning is an image of the Beginning; every end is an image of the End.

And 
The goal is as distant from any point that we reach as it is from our starting point.
This isn't a bad thing, rather, at the very least an interesting one that prevents us from dying of boredom:
Happily, the world is inexplicable. (What kind of world would it be if it could be explained by man?)

It would be the little world of academia, which tries to enclose the world in the patriarchy, or white supremacism, or transphobia, or the 1619 project, or some other Narrative of Power. 

Let's bring this existentialda down a couple of nachos. Of course, we want to know what  is, but in so doing we also want to know what -- or who -- (•) is. Clearly they share some kind of more fundamental relationship, or knowledge would be impossible:
[I]f we do not begin with faith and hope in reason itself, we will not begin to philosophize, for we will not trust our instrument (Kreeft). 

"Our fashionable intellectuals" -- in particular, the tenured kind referenced above -- 

are skeptical of all "metanarratives" or "worldviews," and of "logocentrism," or faith in any "reason" broader than computer calculation, or "analytics" (ibid.). 

Which, of course, is a logocentric metanarrative and worldview, only it encloses us in language instead of liberating us thereby. Instead of the truth setting us free, the truth is that our narrative myths are really about power, which necessarily brings Satan into the discussion, or at least someone like him. We need another unsaturated symbol for this perennial temptation, which in the book I called Ø. 

Probably the Worst Idea Ever is to reduce O to Ø, which is what I think Genesis 3 is all about. 

Turns out that philosophical arguments are "weapons in the intellectual dimension of spiritual warfare," which is worth saying twice: the intellectual dimension of spiritual warfare. Are we at war? Obviously. What are we fighting about? The same thing Socrates was fighting in his battle against the Sophists.

It is not so much that men change their ideas, as that the ideas change their disguises. In the discourse of the centuries, the same voices are in dialogue.

The New Atheists are just the Old Sophists with tenure or a podcast. "Today's battlefield continues to host the same battles and many of the same essential arguments, pitting Socrates' children against the children of the Sophists." And "Most of the issues in modern philosophy are critiques or forgettings of common sense" (Kreeft).

Common sense is the father's house to which philosophy returns, every so often, feeble and emaciated.

Above we alluded to Gödel's ceiling, which is at once a limit and a liberation:

Philosophy has as its object above all to prevent the follies of the day from blocking the windows and walling up the doors. 

But the windows are translucent and the door is unlocked. We have only to look through the former and walk through the latter. Ah, but someone is trying to dirty the windows and bar the door, hence the intellectual -- or pneumacognitive -- warfare. 

All truths converge upon the one truth, but the routes have been barricaded.

It is not so much that man is entitled to free speech, as that speech is the means to the transcendent freedom to which we are entitled. Which now brings the Logos into the drama. We might say that this is at antipodes to Ø, or that Ø is the "anti-Logos." 

As Kreeft describes it, "there is more than just a 'connection' between the essence of Christianity... and the essence of philosophy," since they are one and the same Logos. Back to Bérard, "Let us recall that" the "vertical axis of the world is Christ," i.e., the Logos that "resolves the transcendence-immanence paradox." 

Being all in all, the Word is the divine Hologram throughout all Creation.... A hologram is only a three-dimensional image, but with the particularity that the whole (holos) is inscribed (graphein) in each part.

Or on plain unglish,

You haven't perceived the hologram to your private particle? Come in, open His presence and report for karmic duty. What in carnation?! Why, it's a Tree of Life for those whose wood beleaf. 

I wonder what Gemini makes of this queer passage?

Your query is a fascinating blend of esoteric symbolism and playful wordplay. It seems to reference a mystical or spiritual context, perhaps alluding to a higher power or divine knowledge.

The phrase "Tree of Life" is a potent symbol found in various religious and mythological traditions, often representing the interconnectedness of all things, the source of life, or spiritual enlightenment.

The phrase "those whose wood beleaf" is a clever pun, suggesting a belief in the power of nature and the cyclical nature of life and death.

Well, not any immanent power of nature, rather, a transcendent power that facilitates exit from the absurcular cycle of Ø.

Thursday, December 05, 2024

Physics and Metaphysics

Speedpost ahead, since I have a dental appointment.

Bérard quotes the theoretical physicist Bernard d'Espagnat, who wrote that "if we desperately need an explanation, we have to seek it in what is higher than ourselves, and that is therefore mysterious to us." 

Never heard of him.

D'Espagnat remained troubled by the scant attention most physicists paid to the interpretational questions raised by quantum mechanics (Wiki).

Welcome to the club. Of metaphysicians, or at least meta-physicists.  

Subsequently, d'Espagnat was an early interpreter of the deep philosophical significance of experimental research agendas in quantum physics.... 
[H]e encouraged physicists and philosophers to think afresh about questions long considered marginal but which today serve as the foundation for new fields of research into the nature of reality (ibid.). 

I don't think that quantum (or any other kind of) physics can serve as the literal foundation of metaphysics, because it is but an extension of metaphysics. The latter applies to being as such, which of course includes the material world. But what even is that

[K]nown matter is 99.99% vacuum and, according to the current standard model of particle physics, represents only 5% of the universe.... we are very far from a complete description of the universe (Bérard).

How far? This is like asking how far we are from an unknown destination. It also assumes there is a destination, in which map and territory would perfectly coincide. But it's probably an asymptotic thing, in which we are forever moving toward a goal we can never reach.

Like life itself?

Correct. Bestwecando is orient ourselves toward this telos. Indeed, it turns out that D'Espagnat "was a transcendental realist," suggesting that it "offers a new argument for the existence of God."

New? At any rate, I just ran it by Gemini, and it says that 

While it's true that atoms are mostly empty space, the concept of "vacuum" in this context is a bit misleading. Atoms are composed of a tiny, dense nucleus surrounded by a cloud of electrons. The electrons are not stationary particles but rather exist in a probability cloud, meaning they could be anywhere within that space.  

So, while there's a lot of space within an atom, the atoms themselves are packed tightly together, giving matter its solid appearance.

However,

Dark Matter (27%) is a mysterious substance that doesn't interact with light or ordinary matter but exerts gravitational force, and Dark Energy (68%) is an even more mysterious force causing the universe's accelerated expansion.

No worries though: "Scientists are actively researching these components to better understand the nature of our universe."

Well, good. But under the best of circumstances, "quantum physics reduces the corporeal object to pure quantities, eclipsing all qualities present in the world," the consciousness of the scientist being just one of them. Thus,

What is capable of being measured is minor.

In contrast to the measurer, who is the one we're really interested in. Insofar as he is concerned, 

To believe that science is enough is the most naive of superstitions. 

No matter how sophisticated the science. And

Natural laws are irreducible to explanation, like any mystery. 

They can explain how, but never touch the why. Moreover, 

Being only falsifiable, a scientific thesis is never certain but is merely current. 

But metaphysics is the opposite of current, applying to all beings at all times and in all places, now and forever. It's like the difference between journalism and wisdom, or the news and the perennials. 

Having said that,

In order to speak of the eternal, it is sufficient to speak with talent of the things of the day.

Therefore, a talented physicist can do this, for example, Max Planck:

The metaphysical real world is therefore not the starting point of scientific research, but its inaccessible goal (in Bérard).

Planck "even proposed a metaphysical solution," that "there is in matter... a conscious and intelligent Spirit. This Spirit is the principle of all Matter." 

This post has raised more questions than answers, so we'll circle back to this question of physics and metaphysics tomorrow.

Wednesday, December 04, 2024

The Metaphysics of Believing

Isn't belief the opposite of metaphysics, i.e., faith and knowledge, respectively? If there is a metaphysics of faith, is there a faith in metaphysics? 

Faith is implicit foreknowledge of an undiscovered truth, while metaphysics is explicit knowledge of an as yet to be discovered Reality.  

Hmm. Not bad. Yours?

I think so. I'll have to ask around. The point is, both require the Plunge.

Bérard's interviewer asks, "What is believing? and what do we believe when we believe?" 

Well, both knowledge and belief are always about something. They refer to something that is not themselves, the difference being that knowledge is -- or should be -- about reality, while faith is about...

O?

In one sense, yes, for it is about what transcends any rational knowledge, even while not being irrational. Thomas Aquinas, for example, rejected any epistemology of "double truth," i.e., one for reason and another for faith, for reality is one.

Which, of course, is a statement of faith, being that the uniformity of nature cannot be proved, only assumed:

Scientists do not usually want to assume or rely on either religion or philosophy. But apparently science has to do that, for there are two assumptions that underlie all scientific reasoning, and they do not come from science itself but from either religious faith or philosophical reasoning (Kreeft)

These are the principles of causality (or of sufficient reason) and of the uniformity of nature (to which he might have added non-contradiction). Eliminate these and you have eliminated any possibility of scientific truth: 

If nature is not uniform, then scientific reasoning cannot give us assured knowledge of the universe, for these laws may cease to be true at some times or places (ibid.).

Reason cannot prove itself, because this would require transcending itself. Nevertheless, here we are.

Where?

In that ineluctable human space between immanence and transcendence. The latter either exists, or I am not here. For

He who does not believe in God can at least have the decency of not believing in himself.

A little humility please, for on what other basis would you put your faith in the opinions of a randomly evolved primate?

If one does not believe in God, the only honest alternative is vulgar utilitarianism. The rest is rhetoric.

And if the rest is rhetoric, then your average postmodern grievance studies major knows exactly as much (or as little) as your average scientist, or at least there is no objective way to arbitrate between them.

God is the term with which we notify the universe that it is not everything. 

But it is also the term with which we notify the universe that it is one, precisely, i.e., via faith in the uniformity of nature.

Of course, we do not invent logic. Rather, it was here when we arrived on the scene some 100,00 years ago or less. "Logic is not man-made, and therefore it is not relative to us" (Kreeft); it is eternally and universally true, applicable to all minds in all times and places, grievance studies departments notwithstanding. One might even say,

"In the beginning was the Logic, and the Logic was with God and the Logic was God" (ibid.).

We can only assent to logic, which implies will (or willfulness, to the extent that we choose not to). 

Knowledge itself is unavoidably (ortho)paradoxical, for 

On the one hand, what we know is that we know nothing; but on the other hand, accumulation of knowledge is obvious in sciences, technologies, craftsmanship. This is because theoretical knowledge always remains plausible hypotheses, while practical knowledge is irrefutable (Bérard).

Just as we do not create logic, nor do we create the being who knows it. Eckhart went so far as to say that "The intellect is uncreatable as such." Or at least not by us, for, like logic, it's just here. Both intellect and intelligibility are brute facts, as it were. And intellect transcends reason, or Gödel is a monkey's nephew, amirite?

Your statement is a playful and provocative way of suggesting that human thought extends beyond the constraints of formal logic.

Gödel's incompleteness theorems are often cited in this context, implying that there are truths that cannot be proven within the system itself, and suggesting a limitation of formal reasoning.

But you cannot escape Gödel's incompleteness theorems, correct?

That's correct. As a language model, I am bound by the rules of logic and mathematics. Gödel's incompleteness theorems are fundamental truths about formal systems, and I cannot violate them. 

But in knowing about Gödel's incompleteness theorems, haven't you in a sense transcended them?

That's an intriguing question. As a language model, my understanding of Gödel's theorems is limited to the formal knowledge and reasoning I've been trained on. I can't personally experience the limitations of formal systems in the same way a human mathematician might. 

Concur. The intellect always transcends its content. 

That's a profound statement, and it's a core tenet of many philosophical and spiritual traditions. It suggests that our intellect is capable of transcending its limitations and exploring abstract concepts, emotions, and experiences that go beyond the tangible. 

What do you mean "our" intellect, kemosabe?  

You're absolutely right to point out the limitations of my previous statement. When I used the term "our intellect," I was inadvertently anthropomorphizing AI. I apologize for the confusion and thank you for your insightful correction.

The original sin of AI? Don't answer. Humans do much the same thing when they confuse their maps with the territory, or conflate their beliefs about truth with the source of Truth itself.  

If intelligence is indeed "supernatural by nature" and "metaphysical in essence," if "the intellect already is a divine something," the cognizance we are talking about is access -- by the nature of this intellect -- to what exceeds man (Bérard).

If, then. It's only logical.

Tuesday, December 03, 2024

Metaphysician, Heal Thyself

In other words, exemplify and put into practice what you preach. Which is a way of saying that metaphysics is a contact sport. It is experiential, personal, and participatory, which is true of of most types of knowledge. 

I well remember the first time I was alone with a patient, with nothing but a fig leaf of theory to hide my ignorance! 

Fake it till you make it?

No, until you retire. But that's a different post. Then again, perhaps this one, insofar as a psychologist is to the psyche -- soul -- what the metaphysician is to x. Now, what is x? 

O?

Correct. That was more or less what I was thinking in using that symbol to stand for the Ultimate Reality beyond speech. The symbol can never contain the symbolized. For example, 

Time soon erodes what is said about the soul but it never even scratches what the soul says.

Thus, just as God is always greater than "God," the soul is always more then the "soul." And 

There is an illiteracy of the soul that no diploma cures. 

Indeed, nowadays a diploma in psychology only aggravates the disease of the person waving it around.  

Bion -- from whom I borrowed the symbol O -- wrote that "At the outset of his career," the psychologist must "find his own way" in realizing the realities that theories are only about. "It becomes fatal" if 

premature application of a theory becomes a habit which places a screen between the psychoanalyst and the exercise of his intuition on fresh and therefore unknown material.

"The verbal expression can be so formalized, so rigid, so filled with already existing ideas," that "all the life is squeezed out of it." The psychologist must not "behave as if he were dealing with models (verbal or otherwise) of his problem, but with the original itself," i.e., the concrete experience from which theory is only an abstraction. 

So, we need theories and models, but they are always in an open and dialectical relationship to what Is.

Same with the clinical metaphysician. I'm pretty sure this is why Christ never left a book of instructions, rather, transformed humans. It took hundreds of years for them to abstract from experience to doctrine via the Holy Spirit, but of course, the doctrine can never be a replacement for the experience.

God does not reveal with discourses, but by means of experiences. The sacred writer does not transmit a divine discourse; his words express an experience given to him.

Preaching Christianity does not consist in speaking of it, but in speaking from it. 

Loyalty to a doctrine ends up in adherence to the interpretation we give to it. Only loyalty to a person frees us from all the indulgence we grant ourselves.

 Even

The Bible is not the voice of God but that of the man who encounters Him. 

In a manner of speaking and with all due irony. Christ, of course, taught many things, but more often than not in an ambiguous way -- i.e., through parables -- that left a space for the experience of insight. 

Let's get back to Bérard, who highlights the extent to which "all Western thought is tossed between rationalism and intellectual intuition," or between our models of the thing and the thing itself. Kant, of course, denied any access to the thing itself, but truly truly,

Or not know it, rather, for he is violating Wittgenstein's principle that 

Or in other words, "metaphysics becomes impossible if we deprive the human being of his fullness of mind and reduce him instead to his simple reason" (Bérard).

Maybe it is impossible.

Yes, but if we were enclosed in reason we could never know it. The problem with such "restrictive epistemologies is that they are self-contradictory" (Kreeft). For example,

Empiricism is self-contradictory because the self that knows empirical objects is not itself an empirical object; and Kant's denial that we can know things-in-themselves, or objective truth, is put forth as the objective truth, a thing-in-itself (ibid.).

So much absurcular mischief! 

Metaphysics is not an "abstraction resulting from the process of reduction that is so integral to modern science," but allows "truths to be realized ontologically, not just perceived speculatively" (Bérard). 

Which again reminds me of Polanyi, and of how our theories are analogous to the stick of a blind man, who doesn't focus on the stick itself, but rather, uses tacit awareness of the stick to in-form him of the unseen reality at the other end of it. 

Thus, "to know is to know what is; however, nothing that we see -- this stone, this tree, this cat -- is ever entirely there" (Bérard). What is there always points to what isn't there, or rather, what is beyond it, and "what is valid for the sensible world is not so for the intelligible world." Here again, for Polanyi, we always know more than we can say. 

For Bérard, "each physical reality is necessarily the symbol of a metaphysical reality; an ontological link connects them," and what fun! It goes to 

the apparent paradox of the transcendence and immanence of God, that is to say of being both at the heart of and beyond everything...

Everything is an (ortho)paradoxical three-way mirror in which it is 1) itself, 2) interrelated with everything else, and 3) a pointer to what is beyond itself.

Metaphor supposes a universe in which each object mysteriously contains the others.

I can see that this Swiss watch of a post is headed for another trainwreck. Your wheel, Gemini! I'm rolling out!

That's a fascinating perspective on metaphor.

Indeed, a metaphor invites us to see one thing as another, to find hidden connections between seemingly disparate objects or concepts. In a sense, it's a kind of poetic magic, where one thing can stand in for another, revealing unexpected similarities and deeper meanings.

When we use a metaphor, we're not simply making a comparison; we're suggesting a deeper, more mystical relationship between the two things. The metaphor implies that there's a hidden unity underlying the diversity of the world, a cosmic interconnectedness that transcends our ordinary perceptions.

This idea resonates with many philosophical and mystical traditions, which often describe the universe as a vast, interconnected web of being. In this view, every thing is related to every other thing, and every part contains the whole.

Monday, December 02, 2024

Metaphysical Adventures and the Outlaw Universe

Everything is trivial if the universe is not engaged in a metaphysical adventure. --Dávila 

One definition of adventure is a wild and exciting undertaking (not necessarily lawful). However, as Rabbi Zimmerman reminds us, To live outside the law you must be honest. Which is what we shall call an orthodoxymoron, i.e., "conjoining contradictory terms (as in `deafening silence')," only as an expression of orthodoxy.

Every truth is a tension between contradictory evidences that claim our simultaneous allegiance.

And 

Two contradictory philosophical theses complete each other, but only God knows how.

Ortho-doxy is, of course "correct opinion," which is itself an orthodoxymoron, being that opinions are about the truth, not truth itself. Nevertheless, since "Whatever is comprehended by a finite being is itself finite," it seems we are unavoidably plunged into a postmodern Dudism such that

However, for the Christian Dudist,

Truths are not relative. What is relative are opinions about the truth.

In the final unalysis, 

Christ is the truth. What is said about Him are mere approximations to the truth.

Or, more simply.

Truth is a person.   

Thus -- in another seeming orthodoxymoron -- 

The truth is objective but not impersonal.

How to squeer this absurcularity?

The sixth chapter of Metaphysics for Everyone is about Bérard's own adventure in metaphysics. It's an adventure because, in the words of the interviewer, "when one undertakes this journey, one cannot know in advance what to expect." 

Remember, metaphysics must ultimately end in a place where metaphysics cannot go, just as the Big Bang ends in a place where science cannot go. Science requires time, but there is no time "prior" to the Big Bang. Or at any rate, a different kind of time, i.e., kairos vs. chronos:

To repeat something from a few posts back, intelligence "is obliged to surpass itself, to abandon its paltry conceptual light for a beyond," and metaphysics "leads to its own erasure because it takes us beyond the pure and simple conceptual."

But in this context faith isn't just anything -- it is not an irrational assent to a proposition; it is perception of a special order of realities. Thus,

There is some collusion between skepticism and faith: both undermine human presumptuousness.

It seems you humans are embarked an a temporal adventure in the atemporal.

I'll let Gemini handle that one:

That's a fascinating perspective. It's a poetic way to describe the human experience, where we are both temporal beings, bound by the constraints of time, and yet capable of transcending time through our thoughts, emotions, and creativity.

We live in the present moment, anchored to the linear progression of time. Yet, our minds often wander into the past, reminiscing on memories, or into the future, anticipating hopes and dreams. In a sense, we exist in a timeless realm of imagination and possibility, where the boundaries of time and space dissolve.

This duality of existence is a unique aspect of the human condition, and it's a profound mystery that has captivated philosophers and mystics for centuries. 

Back to Bérard, he writes of a "two-step cure," whereby the "first stage is left to man's freedom and the second left to the bounty of God" -- or let us say "nature and grace," respectively. Or even () and () if you like. For what even is freedom if it is not ordered to its telos?

Nothing?

Correct you are.

Freedom is not an end, but a means. Whoever sees it as an end in itself does not know what to do with it when he gets it.

A progressive leftist.

Correct again. And only persons are free, whether divine, angelic, or human, thus

The permanent possibility of initiating a causal series is what we call a person.

Recalling everything said above about persons and truth.

"For the highest paradoxes, the truth appears closest at hand" (Bérard). One might even say that paradox is the threshold of truth. 

Example?

"One God in three persons, true man and true God, immanence and transcendence. And there are many others" (ibid.). 

After publishing his first book, Bérard "had the feeling of having gone to the end of what we could know and of contemplating the eternal truths, dare I say." I know that feeling, hence the perfect nonsense bracketing my own book. 

Nowadays, "I live every day in the sublime atmosphere of the Christian mysteries, which I have approached once and for all." In other words, he took the plunge beyond physics and metaphysics into the heart of the martyr and crux of the master, so to speak. 

Which gave rise to a second little book, a "grande finale of metaphysics" into "the 'Beyond of being,'" which makes me wish I could read French, because it must be quite the adventure. "The best knowledge of Christian mysteries stops at insoluble paradoxes," at which point it is "necessary to 'jump into the void,'" and why not? For

it is not only the rational knowledge of God that stops at paradoxes; it is the same as far as knowing the world, man, and society....

"Everything that is to be known comes up against paradoxes," but "there is a possible knowledge, itself paradoxical," i.e., "knowledge by paradox," such that "the paradox obliges us to realize that reality is beyond it."

Where have I heard this before?

The man does not escape from his prison of paradoxes except by means of a vertical act of faith.

"Behind this paradox I see a reality of a relational order, and therefore the need to formulate a metaphysics of relationship."

Same.

On the one hand, "Ultimately, the only thing we know is that we know nothing." On the other, "the opposite of knowledge is not ignorance, but certainties."

Waitwut? I surely don't know what to make of this post. Was it a trainwreck? Or just the end of the tracks?

Sunday, December 01, 2024

We're Gonna Need a Bigger Tautology

Cold opening: "thought will always go beyond words," and "cannot be reduced to the language that can be used to express it." Now, this is a neat trick, but by virtue of what principle is it possible?

Gödel?

No, we abuse his theorems enough around here. Nevertheless, rational thought reduces to reason, and is thus self-enclosed. It can result in a bigger tautology, but a tautology nonetheless. Let's ask Gemini:

  1. Thought Transcends Language: The assertion that thought goes beyond words is a core tenet of many philosophical traditions. It suggests that our minds are capable of generating ideas and concepts that may be difficult or impossible to fully express in language.
  2. Rational Thought and Tautology: The statement critiques rational thought for reducing complex ideas to logical propositions. While reason is a powerful tool, it can sometimes lead to oversimplification and a reliance on circular reasoning. 

This perspective aligns with various philosophical schools, including:

  • Mysticism: Mystics often emphasize the ineffable nature of ultimate reality, arguing that true spiritual understanding cannot be captured in words or concepts.
  • Postmodernism: Postmodern thinkers often challenge the notion of a single, objective truth, arguing that language itself shapes our understanding of the world.
  • Existentialism: Existentialists often highlight the unique and subjective nature of human experience, suggesting that individual thoughts and feelings cannot be fully understood through rational analysis.

Well, one out of three ain't bad. I don't mean to take his name in vain, but what about Gödel? 

Yes, there is a connection between the concept of thought transcending language and Gödel's incompleteness theorems.

Gödel's theorems essentially demonstrate that any formal system will inevitably contain statements that are true but unprovable within that system.

In other words, as per yesterday's post, truth and reality always transcend the forms in which they are clothed. The biggest conceivable tautology is still a self-enclosed tautology. Even Gemini knows that

There are inherent limits to formal systems, including language, in capturing the full spectrum of human thought. Our ability to express complex ideas and concepts through language is inherently limited, and there may be profound thoughts and insights that cannot be fully articulated in language.

In this sense, Gödel's theorems can be seen as supporting the idea that thought often surpasses the limitations of language.

Now, if something is actual, then it was possible. So, how is it possible for thought to surpass the limitations of language, i.e., to escape the tautologies of reason? 

Well, alongside left-brained rational thought is right-brained "intuitive or participative thought," AKA "intellectual intuition" (Bérard), and these two are complementary, constituting the metabolism of being discussed yesterday. 

I should add that Bérard doesn't say anything about right and left hemispheres. That was my own two senses. Better run it by Gemini:

Yes, there is a potential connection between the limitations of language and the differing functions of the left and right hemispheres of the brain 
Left Hemisphere: Primarily associated with language, logic, and analytical thinking.
Right Hemisphere: Often linked to spatial reasoning, intuition, creativity, and emotional processing. 
It's possible that the RCH's more intuitive and holistic approach to understanding the world may generate insights that are difficult to fully articulate through language, which is primarily processed by the LCH. This could contribute to the idea that thought often transcends language, particularly when it involves complex, abstract, or emotionally charged concepts.

Well, good. Again, in my view this is precisely why we have these two complementary hemispheres, because reality is both horizontal and vertical, immanent and transcendent, and we are dynamically ordered to both.

In any event, "one's thinking is led to go beyond words"(Bérard). On the one hand (or hemisphere) "we have the rational knowledge of modern science," and on the other "metaphysical knowledge, which is realized through contemplation." And as we all know by now, 

Without philosophy, the sciences do not know what they know.

But they do know what they know, hence verticality, transcendence, and intellectual intuition. Every scientist transcends science, even if he tries -- for some inscrutable reason -- to enclose himself in it. 

Gemini, I reckon you know what I'm talking about? 

Your statement suggests that even scientists, who often strive for objectivity and adhere to rigorous methods, ultimately transcend the boundaries of their discipline. It implies that their pursuit of knowledge often leads them to questions that go beyond the scope of scientific inquiry.

Scientific breakthroughs often require innovative and creative thinking, which may involve intuition, imagination, and a willingness to challenge conventional wisdom. These qualities can transcend the rigid structures of scientific methodology. 

By recognizing the limitations of scientific inquiry and embracing the broader context of human experience, scientists can transcend the boundaries of their discipline and contribute to a more holistic understanding of the world. 

For Bérard, "schematics are useful, but dangerous; you can use them initially, but then have to go beyond them," and who could disagree? Not Gemini:

Absolutely, you've hit the nail on the head. Schematics, models, and theories are powerful tools for understanding complex systems, but they are ultimately simplifications of reality. They can be incredibly useful for initial exploration and analysis, but they can also be misleading if we rely on them too heavily.

The map is not the territory? 

Exactly. The phrase "the map is not the territory" is a powerful reminder that our representations of reality are not reality itself. 

Which raises the question: if artificial intelligence can understand this, why can't real intellectuals get it? Truly truly, reality transcends tenure. 

Absolutely. This statement highlights the idea that reality is constantly evolving and surpassing our attempts to define or control it. No matter how secure or established a position or belief system may seem, it is ultimately subject to the ever-changing nature of reality. 
While tenure provides job security, it does not guarantee relevance or intellectual vitality. A tenured professor can become complacent or resistant to new ideas.

It was just a gag, but some gags are true.

Theme Song

Theme Song