Thursday, December 16, 2010

Suicide, death, and the destruction of the world:

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s Cat’s Cradle illustrates through Bokononism the idea that one’s concept of the world is limited to the experiences of the individual, and not based on a real-world objective reality. When Bokononists commit suicide, they say “Now I will destroy the whole world.” This refers to the fact that by committing suicide, the whole world from the perspective of one’s self is destroyed. In being born, one creates the world (insofar as the fact that despite the propaganda, we are all biased toward a self-centred world-view because of the problem of other minds). In suicide, one destroys the world.

I should note here, that I'm not talking about subjective idealism, but rather, an individualist frame of mind in which the universe's beginning and end relative to one's own experience is equal to birth and death.

As I have written in earlier works, suicide is an act, merely an event. There is intention, there is movement in it.

An alternative reading is that when one thing changes all things are changed in totality. This is a challenge to common conceptions of conservation of identity. For example, in death, one’s consciousness leaves this world, and the result is a changed and remade world. If one conceives of the universe as a unity, then the removal or addition of any part is a complete remaking; a complete destruction and reconstruction.

Every individual’s own birth and death is their own personal experience of world destruction and remaking. (Granted, if the Universe is an infinite unity, nothing can ever be truly added or removed from it, but that is not to say that its contents cannot be rearranged).

The universe is, of course, in a state of constant flux, and committing suicide is a conscious way of taking control of that constant change. It is exerting the will in such a way as to cause a remaking of the universe that is free of you. However, this is neglectful of one’s responsibility to remain in the world, and use the will to exact smaller changes than killing oneself. Using the will to remove one’s own will is counter-intuitive.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

On Suicide as a transformative act, and on Suicide as a cowardly act:

Literature rarely represents suicide as an act of despair or defeat. While a character may feel despair and defeat before committing suicide, the narrative will often portray the act as one of meaninglessness or wastefulness, rather than a legitimate act. That said, death and especially suicide are always transformative events. Suicide in literature and art can be taken as symbol for self actualization, wherein self recognition and strength of will allow one to take a “great leap of faith,” as it were, achieving an unknown, ambiguous result.

Examples of creative media in which suicide is transformative: 
Donnie Darko, Persona 3, Fight Club, Cat’s Cradle

Sucide in creative media is a symbol of hope for a change of self or surroundings; an acknowledgement that the end of a life full of 'wrongness' is potentially the start of a new life. However, such themes belong in the realm of fiction. The symbol, metaphor, or allegory is simply demonstrative of a theme or moral. No real life is so wrong or backward that the transformative death used symbolically in literature and art is required. It is simply an extreme metaphor which encourages the death of a way of being that is not life, but living badly.

Hopelessness is a disease with one cure, and that is its opposite: hope. The transformative suicide is in effect the opposite of the cowardly suicide of this real life. It is not an escape from responsibility and hardship, but an embrace of the responsibility to escape the pull of societal norms through the death of bad living, and to effect changes through attitudinal shifts and revaluation.

Albert Camus depicted suicide as a rejection of freedom. The freedom afforded by this life is far more valuable than the escape afforded by real-life suicide. As Sartre said, those who have free will are burdened with the responsibility of it - but the ability to choose what one is responsible for (the consequences of our decisions) ought to make that responsibility a given, and hardly such an inconvenience as to warrant suicide.

Particularly in the faithless life, suicide squanders the chance that life provides. That said, suicide exemplifies a variety of wimpiness that borders on laziness. Plato described it as an act of sloth and unmanly cowardice.

Furthermore, the responsibility of free will correlates with the use of suicide as a symbol for self actualization. The metaphor represents suicide as a freely willed act of shedding mundane, worldly values, and one’s attachment to them. It shows a way beyond mass-illogic and ideology to an individualistic view; a relation between the creation and ascription of values and the responsibility to take part in that process, using free will.

A will that is bent or determined by a group or even just one other’s will is not free, and the acquiescence to such a force is a lazy, cowardly rejection of one’s own responsibility for self-determination.

Friday, October 22, 2010

On the experience of death and dying:

“Every one regardeth dying as a great matter: but as yet death is not a festival.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
The claim that every man dies alone is accurate in as much as none but he who is dying can experience it. While a person can die surrounded by family and friends, the experience of that death cannot be shared with anybody – not even those who are dying simultaneously. The death of each person is their own to experience, and each is intrinsically unique by virtue of the individuality of each human being.

Heidegger suggests that death is not even available as an experience, because experience requires life. I do not presume to suggest that death is the end of all experience, but Heidegger’s position underlines the uncompromising finality of death in terms of experience and sharing that experience with others.

In death, none can recount that experience to the living. Even as we lie on our death beds explaining the experience to others, those others have only the experience of our death from their perspective. More accurately, others have the experience of watching someone dying; the process and not the result.

To further that idea of sharing in dying, Heidegger represented dying as what really matters, rather than death (by virtue of its possibility for experience), going so far as to point out that the process of living is synonymous with the process of dying, saying that as soon as we are born, we are old enough to die. This is what he called being-towards-death.

From this perspective, it is necessary to orient oneself towards death such that dying is an emotional investment in possible ways of being; one with a necessary agency and awareness – an authentic way of being-toward-death (note that ‘dying’ is the same as living, by this interpretation). More on this later.

As I said, dying and life cannot be mutual, identical experiences between individuals. Each person’s death and dying are his or her ownmost experience, but through reflection, communication, and shared experience – a state of what I call intersubjectivity - the living can share in a facsimile of another’s life, albeit a flawed and incomplete one.

“To many men life is a failure; a poison-worm gnaweth at their heart. Then let them see to it that their dying is all the more a success.” - Friedrich Nietzsche

**I should probably note that those Nietzsche quotes were taken out of context and I'm using them in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way to illustrate my points.**

Friday, September 17, 2010

On energy, entropy, death, and the afterlife:

Required Reading: How death increases entropy,

Before broaching a more subjective and less theoretical approach to the idea of death, I thought I'd tackle some potential links between physics and death.

On energy and entropy:
 
Entropy can be described as the total of all displaced, and therefore unusable energy (however it is ultimately a much more complex topic, relating heavily to thermodynamics). It is well known that all matter requires some form of energy to move, operate, or otherwise live. 

Einstein’s law of the conservation of energy requires that any energy that is used in a process can not be caused to disappear or degrade. While the consumption of food provides energy, and sleep stores it for later use, such energies are expended through physical and mental activities, however strenuous. However, expended energy cannot be retained, reused, absorbed or lost entirely. Theoreticians have posited that entropy remains as a formless reserve of used and evermore useless energy.

On entropy and death:

    The concept of entropy is applicable to death if one considers that all of the elements of life require the consumption of some kind of energy, whether it is kinetic energy for movement, or electrical impulses within the brain for thought or body awareness, etc.

In death, all of these energies seem to be dispersed. Indeed, it appears that no energies are animate or expendable in death beyond the decomposition process - a final outlet for any remaining energy in the body. Presumably, in death those once animate energies of the body are transposed into entropy. As entropy can not be accessed, its existence can not be verified, nor can its significance be made obvious, should it exist.

For a short and amusing explanation of the link between death an entropy, I encourage you to read  the brief article by Dr. Crystal Cooper that I linked at the top of this post.

On entropy and the afterlife:

At the risk of leaning too much toward Judaeo-Christian views, the process of energy converting to entropy in death can metaphorically mirror the passage of souls to heaven (in any number of limited or minimal interpretations thereof), or it could be that process in fact. Though unverifiable in its supernaturalism, it could be that a form of energy taken to be the soul - or merely the energies expended by the life process - could live on in a different way for a different means, through entropy.

My intent is not to posit any kind of definitive afterlife interpretation, nor even to posit an afterlife at all. Rather, my intent is to foster some hope for a reconciliation of science to common faiths, without casting aside logic. It is my experience that parallels often signify either extreme similarity, or perfect identification of events. This is to say that two things which have potential to parallel in such a way could easily be one and the same thing, though perhaps in less fantastical or logical ways.

Friday, September 3, 2010

On Lying:


The best way to avoid being caught in a lie is to have nothing to lie about. The best way to keep a secret is to have no secrets to keep – alternatively, never, ever tell anyone.
Lies are a dangerous sin to commit because they threaten and distort perceived reality. To tell a lie and be believed is to convince the believer that what is real is unreal, or that the unreal is real. While a lie may never be found out, any unreal event housed within the real necessarily calls attention to itself by having no referent.

Because of the natural chain of events that is cause and effect (that same chain which necessitates that all events be the same infinite event), any false or unreal event introduced into that chain is easily traced backward to its source – the liar. A thorough, deductive investigation of the chain of events which led to the unreal event, will inevitably uncover the liar because the unreal event seems to have an inappropriate cause or no cause at all. In order to conceal a lie well, one must then concoct further lies which support it, masking the flaws in the chain of events.
Naturally, the more lies one tells, the more unlikely that the chain of real events will cohere with the lie, and then it will be discovered. However, some will not delve as deeply into the chain as others, leaving the lie to persist.

As such, there are cases where a lie cannot be easily discovered by deductive reasoning, and the person who believes it will continue to live as though the lie were true. This is dangerous, because it introduces a false or unreal event into the chain of future real events, such that the unreal event becomes a factor in determining what will be real in the future.

This is all not to mention the emotional effects of a lie. For the liar - if the liar is not a sociopath - there will nearly always be pangs of guilt for having told the lie, which may or may not be bearable. There is guilt for having lied, and further guilt for having done or been involved with whatever thing caused the lie. Even in cases where no guilt is felt, it is highly likely that the liar will experience paranoia with regard to being found out. 

For the person lied to, there is more often than not suspicion, and in such cases suspicion is sufficient cause for feelings of betrayal, regardless of whether those suspicions have been validated. If the lie is discovered, the feelings of betrayal and suspicion are validated, turning to anger, disappointment, and depression. This is before whatever truth that the lie replaced is discovered, and in some cases, the discover of the truth will cause further anguish.

As it is rarely advantageous to be the receptor of negative emotions (least of all, one’s own), it is rarely advantageous to lie. As stated, the lie is almost inevitably discovered, making the negative response and effects of altering the chain of events just as inevitable. In this sense, lies are in almost every case as much a self-destructive behaviour as they are an outwardly destructive behaviour.

Furthermore, the act of lying in conjunction with the true event which seemed to require the lie has an additive effect, which results in more negative response than would originally have been encountered were the event alone discovered. To an extent, this relationship mirrors western karmic theory, because in lying, negativity is visited back on the liar two-fold.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

On faith, belief, and offense:

There is no injury to the non-believer in the believer’s continued belief. 

The positive statement “I believe in x, which is opposed to your views” is inoffensive. However, the statement “the belief in x is a false belief” is offensive, because it denies the potential verity of an unverifiable thing. While faith-based beliefs are unverifiable by nature, believing is a form of subjective truth, and to deny it is to call the believer a liar.

The point being that faith-based belief in a thing and faith-based non-belief in a thing are equally unverifiable, and as such, all faith-based beliefs or non-beliefs can co-exist logically, because blind faith is illogical in the first place. It is just as likely that an idea or object that is not readily apparent exists as it is that it doesn't, so long as it remains apparently not.

There is no contradiction in the simultaneous existence or non-existence of that which can not be proved or disproved with certainty. God may or may not exist just as unicorns or aliens may or may not exist. These things all possess potential for existence but lack any apparent evidence to that existence. That said, it is still illogical to assert belief in any such thing, because it is illogical to believe in anything that is not apparently so. Furthermore, it is illogical to believe in logical contradictions; absolutely non-existent objects, such as a round square or a highly populated desert isle.

There are three ways that people respond to the unverifiable: 

1. Blind acceptance, due to misrepresentation of the subject as having evidence of being absolutely true or false

2. Doubt or rejection of the subject as false in the face of such a misrepresentation

3. A rejection of the subject as a non-issue; as that which can not provide evidence of itself has no effect on the perceivable world, because it either does not exist or works in such a way as to be imperceptible or undiscovered. 

Obviously, the third response is the one that logic prefers, because blind acceptance as true and based on a lack of evidence is illogical, while doubt or rejection as false based on a lack of evidence is also a form of blind acceptance. To suspend judgment, to refuse to take a stance is most logical because it allows for existence or non existence, and places no particular value on either.

Friday, August 13, 2010

On challenging faith:

On the subject of using what is readily apparent as evidence of existence or non-existence, it would follow naturally that these principles be applied to issues of faith; whether it be faith in the existence of a thing, or faith in the non-existence of a thing.

It is unreasonable to provide a fully-formed antithesis to a faith-based thesis. (It is, of course, never reasonable to provide an unformed or partially formed anything). This is because that antithesis is as much a faith-based claim as the thesis, in that any evidence to its truth is based on the apparently not; something for which no evidence can be found. Countering a conclusion that is based on the not at all apparent with a conclusion that is based on the apparently not provides no evidence to the truth of one’s own assertion, and as such cannot disprove the opposite.

Simply, to state “your faith-based claim is false” is no more or less verifiable than to state “my faith-based claim is true.” Those who make conclusions based on the apparently not are effectively making a claim based on their own blind faith that what cannot be seen does not exist.

Conversely, it is just so that those who make conclusions based on the apparently so have faith that what they perceive is what is real – but, importantly, the perceivable world is an integral part of interaction and existence in the world, real or not. That is, it is not blind faith, as it is in the other two cases.

The application of this discourse is that in discussion about religion, outspoken atheism is as much a blind faith-based belief as theism. So, for those who would prefer to avoid blind faith in anything (which, as I have said is the most logical approach to belief) a careful agnosticism – with an open mind to emerging evidence - is the only option.




I have lots more to say about what's wrong with atheism, like its name, for example. We'll see what I do next time.

Friday, August 6, 2010

On the readily apparent as evidence of existence or non-existence:


While denying sense data is impractical, it would be equally impractical to deny the existence of a potential object or even a fantastic object when there is evidence to support it or when there is no evidence to the contrary. This is the basis of what I will call healthy scepticism.

Healthy scepticism is to be distinguished from unhealthy scepticism by the fact that it does not deny what is readily apparent. In order to illustrate unhealthy scepticism, I refer to a legend of an early sceptic, who upon adopting scepticism of even what is readily apparent was killed by a cart when he walked in front of it, disbelieving its existence. Conversely, healthy scepticism operates upon the assumption (but not the certainty) that what is readily apparent is evidence to its own existence by its being apparent in the first place. I say that it does not operate on a certainty because, while it is impractical to disbelieve what is readily apparent, it is equally impractical to believe that what is readily apparent is objective truth (more on that another time). 

Likewise, it is illogical to believe in what is not readily apparent, or in what is apparently not. The former - what is not readily apparent - is merely name given to the potential for either existence or non-existence, while the latter - the apparently not - is made readily apparent by the absence of evidence and cannot be verified by any available means.

What is not readily apparent cannot be used as substantive evidence for the existence or potential existence of anything. Only what is within the immediate reach of human experience is readily apparent, and effective in evidencing the existence of a thing.

In cases where something is not readily apparent, it is best to reserve judgment (as I may yet argue is best in all cases), however it is not within human capacity to continue to be active in life without behaving as though what is apparent is real, and what is not immediately apparent could be real – regardless of whether it is believed true. That said, one should neither believe that the apparently not is categorically true or false either. Even so, reaction or no reaction to a lack of stimuli is not required for active life.

Next Week: We'll see...



...

Thursday, July 29, 2010

On what is readily apparent:

Having explained the infinite thing at length - a thing not readily apparent (and indeed, not likely perceivable) - it strikes me that it is necessary to illustrate what is not apparent by explaining its application to what is readily apparent; what is perceivable.

All that is ‘given’ to the perceptual doors (the senses), and is readily apparent without the aid of tools or theoretical equations, lies within the world or realm of perception. These are empirical perceptions. What is perceivable is shared to varying degrees by all sensitive humans. Anything that is perceived by one person can, under the similar circumstances be perceived by another person (for there can be no same circumstances). While we can’t quantify the perceptions of others, the acknowledgement of shared sensations allows for inferred empirical perception.

Generally, what is readily apparent is that which has the capacity to be discovered by human means, through the senses, or with tools (like a microscope). It is impractical to deny what is readily apparent, as that would deny the senses, which in turn would deny the realness of the real.

There are two ways of being readily apparent. Something can be apparently so, and apparently not. Both are readily apparent, but the latter can be used as evidence of existence, while the latter can be used as evidence of non-existence.

Next time: On the readily apparent as evidence of existence or non-existence, in which I explain
the concept of 'healthy scepticism.'

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Conclusions on Eternal Recurrence:


Obviously, because common interpretations of eternal recurrence don’t consider there to be infinite events, no proponent thereof makes any attempt to reconcile the two. Why should they? There is no empirical evidence that events are infinite (my a priori proofs that space and time, and therefore events are infinite are not empirical, obviously). My best attempt at reconciling the two is to take the expression ‘history repeats itself’ seriously.

While I cannot admit that any event can be the same as another without occurring at the same time, I can admit that some events are so similar as to indicate a loose concept of sameness (but not true identity). For example, the method in which I brush my teeth is generally the same across time. I brush them in a certain way, at a certain time of day, and it takes about the same amount of time every time. There will be deviations in certain circumstances, but it would not be inaccurate to argue that the history of my tooth brushing has repeated itself so often as to produce at least two events that are essentially the same apart from the time at which it occurred (from my human perspective). There is more to eternal recurrence theory that cannot be accounted for in that interpretation, however.

While Nietzsche didn’t believe that explanation, it is believed by Walter Kaufmann - a frequent translator and editor of his work - that eternal recurrence as Nietzsche conceived of it may have been derived from the works of Heinrich Heine, who wrote
“[T]ime is infinite, but the things in time, the concrete bodies, are finite. They may indeed disperse into the smallest particles; but these particles, the atoms, have their determinate numbers, and the numbers of the configurations which, all of themselves, are formed out of them is also determinate. Now, however long a time may pass, according to the eternal laws governing the combinations of this eternal play of repetition, all configurations which have previously existed on this earth must yet meet, attract, repulse, kiss, and corrupt each other again...” [my emphasis]

My reading of this quote seems to cohere well with the ideas I’ve been explaining since the beginning: the infinite has finite parts, and following from that, infinite time yields an infinite number of finite events, or, in a much broader sense, one infinite event.

Heine’s description of repulsion, kissing, and corruption is nice and flexible. It doesn’t say explicitly imply exact repetition, rather, it is a more poetic way of saying “stuff interacts and interrelates, and will continue to do so, in much the same way as it always has,” wherein “stuff” refers to events and event-objects.


Next Week: I don't know. We'll see, huh? I've sort of run out of steam in terms of the logical progression of this philosophy. It looks like the next big topic will be death-related! Exciiiting!

Friday, July 9, 2010

Eternal recurrence vs. Infinite events:

Required Reading: Eternal Recurrence,Time's Arrow

[Note: This used to be a longer essay (by blog standards), so I've cut it in two. Stay tuned for the second half next week, and may your existential concerns about the inexplicable and irreconcilable be assuaged at some point.]

The most common interpretation of eternal recurrence is flawed in that it assumes that there are a finite number of events within an infinite time. (It is assumed of eternal recurrence that events must recur the same way ad infinitum because there are a finite number of events within infinite time). This is not possible, because infinite time entails infinite events. It is already established that identity of events depends, particularly in cases of the most complex events, almost intrinsically on the time at which the event occurred. The more time there is, the more events there must be. If time is endless, the number of finite events throughout time must also be endless.

There are, I believe, an infinite number of events, objects, non-objects, and object-events housed within infinite space (I know that such a wording implies the finite. Just roll with it). As such, the universe and time as we know them cannot recur in exactly the same way because:

(a) time has no end, and therefore each event, no matter how similar is unique due to its having to have occurred at some point within the infinite; 
(b) time’s arrow denies the possibility that events could recur in the same way, because additional variables affect the universe ad infinitum (read: there is no limit to progress);
(c) the universe is in a state of constant flux. For the most part, this is because of (a).

However, as I write this, I can conceive of possible refutes that will need to be explored:

1. Identity of events with reference to placement on a timeline depends on an arbitrary conception of time as having units. Infinite time, as I have stated, is infinitely divisible, but is also an infinite unity. One cannot divide infinite time into two times, there is but one time, in which arbitrary divisions are imposed, but they are not true divisions. This suggests that what would commonly be referenced as time1 cannot be distinguished from time2, because it is part of a unity. As the increments imposed upon time are a man-made conception, the idea of one time following another is also a human conception, and as time is a unity, it is entirely reasonable to assert that all events as we perceive them are simultaneous – that is, one infinite (and infinitely divisible) time, in which one infinite (and infinitely divisible) event occurs. That said, the infinite event is infinitely divisible into finite increments, just as time is, which allows us the illusion of unique events. In all, though, this argument does not fully refute my initial argument, as the infinite nature of both time and the event preclude any definitive start or end point at which events can recur.
2. It is commonly theorized and/or prophesied that earthly (a very limited scope, in terms of universe, by the way) progress has reached - and will on several future occasions – reach points of stagnation and even regression. Arnold J. Toynbee, for example theorized that a human over-focus on the successes of the past will create stagnation by leaving humans unprepared to deal with future problems. The point being both that human progress is limited to the availability of those resources to them, and that past and future projections of technological stagnation are an example of the way in which eternal recurrence can be interpreted more loosely as ‘history repeating itself.’ It is not necessarily the case, however, that progress cannot occur after or even during a period of stagnation, to reach or overcome the level it had been at prior to that period. Likewise, as stated in (a) and noted in (1), identity of events does not allow for history to repeat itself exactly, as eternal recurrence would require. That is to say that eternal recurrence, as it is commonly conceived, cannot be possible if there are an infinite number of unique events.



Next Week: Conclusions on Eternal Recurrence, in which I provide a bit of denouement on this issue, and uneasily put it to bed.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

On time and eternal recurrence:

Required Reading: Eternal Recurrence, Linear and Cyclical Time

Eternal recurrence is a concept derived from Nietzsche. It was unfortunately underdeveloped because the most complete description of it is found in a collection of notes titled The Will to Power, which was released (and liberally edited) posthumously by his sister. As such, followers of Nietzsche have attempted to interpret and disentangle the concept in a faithful way, based on prototypical appearances in earlier works and the fragments found in the notes – an effort made difficult by the vagueness and sometimes contradictory nature of those mentions.

The premise of the theory is that all events (and the objects and beings involved), recur in exactly the same way an infinite number of times. In eternal recurrence time is cyclical rather than linear. All bodies and events will occur again in exactly the same way an infinite number of times because the past and future are practically the same as the present, due to the uniformity of the cycle.

Because it is the most familiar analogue, many seek to liken eternal recurrence with reincarnation. This is not the case in any familiar way. In Nietzsche’s eternal recurrence, it is not a new life lived and there is no retention of prior consciousness (though, there is little information provided, with respect to that angle of approach).

Nietzsche used eternal recurrence as a way of showing that life-acceptance was important, in contrast with looking toward some future reward in a promised afterlife at the expense of putting any value into this life. He called this self-acceptance amor fati, or ‘love of fate.’ The problem, however, is that the frame of reference for what is past and what is future is always based in the present – which I have shown to be elusive and asymptotic.

While both Nietzsche and I assume infinite time, his cyclic time incorrectly assumes a finite number of events - an assumption that makes it difficult to reconcile eternal recurrence with the idea of the infinite thing. Despite the admission that all things are finite divisions within the infinite, forgetting that the number of finite divisions is infinite causes many problems.



Next Week: Eternal recurrence vs. Infinite events, in which I make a rather lengthy attempt to address the issues involved in reconciling the one with the other. (It may end up being a two-parter).

Friday, June 18, 2010

On Asymptotes and Matter:

Required reading: Asymptotes, On Events, On the paradox of infinite divisibility

"Approaching zero" refers to a mathematical concept involving parabolas and curves. An asymptote is a theoretical line which the curve always approaches, but never intersects with, such that if the line were to have a value of zero*, the curve would always approach, but never reach it. Similarly, nearly every quality or attribute has the capacity to “approach zero,” but never reach it.

Asymptotes in parabolic mathematics are examples of how infinite divisibility is a universal trait in a real-world context. The curve never reaches zero because it is dividing the space between the two infinitely. Metaphorically speaking, human experience is the curve, while exact time or exact location is the asymptote. Our curve of experience naturally approaches an exact time or an exact space, but never meets it.

The asymptotic nature of matter (and time) in conjunction with infinite divisibility necessitates that no one particle of matter (or time) can be truly pinpointed. The problem is that it appears as though experience approaches empirical (or objective) reality, but never reaches it. The evidence of reality is made so transitory by its divisibility. The result is that existence and infinite divisibility seem to imply non-existence by the impossibility of making true “this object exists at location x at time t.” This is to say that events/objects cannot be said to exist, because they lack modifiers.

All matter in the universe appears to be on the threshold of being real. Could this be the scientific application of
idealism or immaterialism? We're angling dangerously toward hippie talk, here.

*In this case, "zero" refers to the distance of the parabola from the asymptote (or of the curve of existence from reality), and not an absence of value or substance.



Next time: On time and eternal recurrence, in which I try to espouse one of the most important Nietzschean concepts that I don't actually believe.

Friday, June 4, 2010

On Events:

Required reading: Events, Space-time

Okay, last time, i had a look at my giant file of topics, and decided that my "space-time" entry was very short and not very informative. However, today, I found a way to work it into today's subject: events. However, it's still a bit off topic.
So, bear with me. This one's a double-post.

On space-time:

Space has three dimensions: width, length (or height), and depth. The resulting measure for how much space is occupied by something is volume. That measure is simply a way of quantifying what Spinoza called extension. It is the extension of substance into three dimensions. However, an object in space unmodified by time is incomplete. Not only do we need to quantify the spatial dimensions of a substance, but also the temporal dimensions. Not merely depth, width, and height, but also the when of that substance.

This want of a fourth dimension for the description of substance is likely one reason why many physicists believe in an amalgamation of the dimensions known as space-time. All that I have said about infinite space refers specifically to Euclidean and Newtonian absolute space. However, one key feature of space-time (which makes it differ from absolute Euclidean/Newtonian space) is that it appears to be warped by gravitational pulls. It is not clear what implications this has for the occupation of space by matter, but I think it indicates a mapping of objects in space as they are affected by gravity, as opposed to a boundary or a limited shape which space takes. It is the map of the path objects take through space and time (space-time), and not the shape of space-time itself. The normal method of determining spatial boundaries by their relation to other objects makes it all too easy to assume that a lack of objects indicates a lack of space.

On events:

Like the frames of a film, each object exists in space as its own event. Events are less happenings or objects themselves than they are bundles of detailed descriptive data. Events are composed of a what (a thing occupying space), a when (the duration, or point at which it will or did occur), and a how (an adverb and/or adjective) which provides an analytical description. For these purposes, an object is described as ‘the event of object (a)'s existence at location (l) at time (t), with attributes (a1, a2, a3, etc).’ For example, the rocket (what) travelled from the earth to the moon with a duration of Δt (distance over duration = speed), and the rocket was red.

That said, every event has an infinite number of potential (but necessary) descriptors to identify it as a unique event. These descriptors range from the ones I’ve just mentioned to the past, future, and relatively simultaneous events that occur everywhere else. That is to say, every event requires a description that accounts for every other event that is happening, has happened, and will happen in order to be unique. The upshot of a description that must account for every other possible or real event necessitates that every event is the same event, and not unique at all (because any one description describes all events, which all have the same description). There is only one event, in a broad sense, and that event spans the entirety of space-time which is infinite. Therefore, “The Event” is infinite, and inseparable from space-time (the universe), if not synonymous.

Obviously, such vast descriptions are more than what is required and sufficient for the identification of one event, and perceiving it as being different from another. It is as simple as making the arbitrary divisions that are normally made within an infinite medium. We divide finite events from within the infinite event, just as we make finite spaces of infinite space, and finite times of infinite time.

Being able to conceive of a group of finites as parts of one infinite whole requires that we reject, at least on a hypothetical level, the convenient assumption that difference of qualities/attributes is an indicator of individuality. We do not consider a pile of sugar to be something other than sugar. We do not consider one grain of sugar to be something other than sugar. Difference in size, shape, quantity, and– I would argue– even atomic structure, do not necessitate finiteness. Just as a human is made up of bones, blood, flesh, water, etc, the infinite universe is made up of an infinite number of objects and substances with different make-ups and attributes.



Next week: On asymptotes and matter, in which I try to stretch out a short post and hope you understand.

Friday, May 28, 2010

On Spinoza and the infinite thing:

Required Reading: Spinoza's Metaphysics, Omnipresence, Religion and the infinite thing, Naturalistic Pantheism

The idea of a God that is synonymous with universe mirrors the description of God that is laid out in 17th century Dutch philosopher Baruch Spinoza’s Ethics. In it, he frequently used the phrase “God or nature,” rather than merely "God" or "Nature" indicating that the two are essentially the same. (It’s worth noting here, that Spinoza was a Portuguese Jew, and not so much concerned with worries that the Catholic church might call him a heretic). Additionally, in the Ethics, God or nature (the infinite thing) has an infinite number of attributes or properties, two of which are Extension and Thought.

Extension in Spinoza's Ethics is analogous with my description of absolute space. Objects (which are known in these circles as ‘substance’) occupy space; that is, they are extended in space in terms of width, height, length, depth, etc. Spinoza described the differences perceived between those objects (substance) as being Modes – modifications of substance. So, in the context of the concepts that have previously been explained, these modes are what I have been calling "finite divisions" within the infinite thing. That which makes a hammer different from a salad is a mode. That which makes those objects perceivable at all is their extension, which is itself an attribute of the infinite thing.

If God is the same thing as the universe or nature – one infinite thing, and extension and thought are attributes thereof, it follows that human beings and all other living and non-living things are modes. The implication is that humans are not separate from god. In fact, humans are not truly separate from anything at all. The distance and separation we normally imagine between ourselves and god (up there), or ourselves and universe (out there), is an illusion. Neither a universe which surrounds us (readily apparent), nor a god which is ubiquitous (perhaps less apparent) is truly beyond our reach – and they are not at all separate from one another.



Next Week: On events, in which I explain the nature of events, and their relation to this whole ... thing.

Friday, May 21, 2010

On religion and the infinite thing:

Required reading: On God as Infinite, On the Identity of the Infinite, Omnipresence, Pantheism, Panentheism

Because we are assuming that God, space, and time are one and the same, the claim that the universe (of which space and time are facets) is the infinite thing does not exclude god from existence or infinity.

As I have already said, God, space, time, events and the universe are all the same thing. It is perfectly reasonable to call that infinite thing whatever one wants, but it is unreasonable to suggest that its components are different or separate if they are each described as infinite – a quality which precludes multiplicity.

The question is then “what is the significance of a god that is the same thing as the universe?” My answer is “no more significance than usual.” Certainly, it will affect the Judeo-Christian interpretation of God as being the benevolent man who lives on a cloud (which has already lost much of its credence), but it need not affect the truly spiritual aspect of any religion.

A conception of God as ubiquitous is found in many religions and approaches to spirituality, such as Taoism or Gaia theory (both forms of pantheism). However, the idea of an omnipresent god has faded from western religion, while it is far more common in the east. Ubiquity need not damage theistic religions – including Christianity, in any case.

Space and time are the building blocks of physics, and God is synonymous with them. As such, the implications for both prayer and science are numerous. The power of prayer to influence events is easier to imagine, considering the interconnectedness of people, their minds, their wills, events, and the forces behind them. Meanwhile scientific advancement and experimental pursuits could be considered holy events.

That said, it is my position that if God is one with the universe – the infinite thing – then prayer and worship are virtually redundant. The delivery system for matters of faith is instantaneous and ubiquitous. The mundane would be divine; holiness would reside within all things. God would no longer be beyond reach; no longer distanced from us.

However, it is up to each person to decide how to respond to this hypothesis. It would be as valid to venerate all things as it would to continue worship the same as always. Of course, for some, the question of whether worshipping rocks, supernovas, serial killers, and cheese - for each of these things is of God/the universe/the infinite thing – will seem a bit superfluous. So far as atheists are concerned, this issue would have no relevance.



Next Week: On Spinoza and the infinite thing, in which I explain how this "infinite thing" and its ubiquity relate to the philosophy of Baruch Spinoza, for whom I have a philosophical boner.

Friday, May 7, 2010

On the identity of the infinite:

Required reading: Identity, infinity, holism, On God as Infinite

No two things can be infinite. That which is infinite is all that there is, by definition. If space is infinite, then God cannot also be infinite. If it is the case that God exists, then God must be infinite in accordance with Anselm’s ontological argument.

So, with those statements in mind, it appears that
a) nothing is infinite
b) only one thing is infinite and all others are not
or
c) that all of the things we believe to be infinite are one and the same thing.

Based on my earlier arguments, it would be counterproductive to choose (a). In selecting (b) we must assume that both time and space are finite, and god does exist, or that either time or space is infinite (but not both) and god does not exist. In selecting (c) we must assume that god, space, and time are all infinite, and the same infinite thing. In fact, given that (c) makes the many into one, we can now also accept (b), which is always true of the infinite by nature.


So, any thing that is infinite is the same thing as whatever else is infinite, and “the thing than which nothing greater can be thought” must be something even greater than what is normally thought of. To clarify: while god is defined as the thing than which nothing greater can be thought, common conceptions of god do not also include the descriptions of space and time. But, here I am claiming that god is space and time; that space and time are god.

Space and time, meanwhile, are the medium in which our physical experiences are built. The greatest physical thing that can be thought of is the universe; a structure encompassing space (which includes matter), time, and also energy. I posit that the universe is synonymous with the infinite thing. Indeed, the word universe means “all in one.” While the universe is typically a physical thing, it extends into the non-physical through time, the laws of physics, thought, and – for the sake of inclusiveness - the spiritual. Each of these affects, and is affected by the physical.



Next Week: On religion and the infinite thing, in which I hypothesize what it means for god to be synonymous with universe.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

On God as Infinite:

Required Reading: Ontology, Infinity, Existence of God

No two things can be infinite. Therefore whatever is infinite is that thing than which nothing greater can be thought. That is the gist of St. Anselm’s ontological argument; his proof of God. Basically Anselm’s argument is that the thing than which nothing greater can be thought is God. His proof of God is that a god that exists only in the mind is not as great as a god who exists in both the mind and reality. So any thing for which a greater thing can be thought cannot be God.

Most medieval versions of God describe it as being infinitely merciful, or knowing, or powerful. If God is infinite in one respect, then in accordance with Anselm’s argument, God must also be infinite in all other respects. A God which is infinitely merciful, but finitely powerful, is not that than which nothing greater can be thought. Likewise, a thing that is infinitely one thing, but finitely another can not be God if there is some being (which I can think of) who has infinite power, mercifulness, wickedness, penis size, volume, ductility, etc., and is not limited by finitude in any aspect.

Of course, Anselm’s proof has a flaw, which is that it only shows that if god exists, then god exists in both the mind and reality. I don’t intend to prove God’s existence, for reasons that ought to become clearer next week. The important thing is that provided that the “than which nothing greater can be thought” argument is sound - and I feel that it is - even if the proof that follows from it isn’t, the God must be infinite in every aspect. God must be an infinite thing.


Next Week: On the identity of the infinite, in which I fiddle with knobs and twiddle dials until my brain factory can reconcile three infinite things that we normally perceive as distinct.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

On infinite time and infinite space:

Required Reading: Absolute time and space, psychological arrow of time

I was thinking about merging these two bits in the first place, but then I changed my mind. Then I got sick last week and didn't bother to update, so I'm merging them again. Besides, this first one is terrible. These two arguments are basically the springboard for next week's ridiculous statement.

Time

Time is infinite, infinitely divisible, and absolute. Even if time is given beginning and end points, its infinite divisibility allows for it to progress eternally, on some small level. Those boundaries would face the same asymptotic relationship that faces measurements, as I’ve described previously.

Besides that, it is impossible to ascribe an endpoint for time. Following the endpoint, were there a mind to perceive it, that mind could easily extend time. The statement “It’s been one hour since time stopped” proves the point through the contradiction. (Indeed, the phrase “following the endpoint” ought to prove the point by inference). In this way, time is endless (infinite). So long as there is a conscious mind to experience time, time will be seen to continue its passing. As such, without a conscious mind to experience time, there is certainly no reason to assume that time would not continue to pass in its absence. Provided that we don’t traipse off into idealism, the object permanence we learn as infants ought to apply.

Space

Space is infinite and absolute. There is no such thing as nothing. All physical things occupy space. Space is an infinite medium in which arbitrary divisions are made, separating it into finite parts. The space between two points is occupied by invisible gases and particles, not nothing.

Every object we perceive occupies a space of the same volume. Our arbitrary measurements of volume allow that space to be reinterpreted in any shape. A sphere which has a volume of 72 cubed metres can be rearranged to take the form of a 72 cubed meter replica of the Taj Mahal.

Physical objects do not “push space aside.” They occupy as much space as is required for such objects to exist and retain their volume and mass. I have encountered the criticism that if space is infinite, and all space is occupied, nothing ought to be able to move (because the combined force of an infinite number of objects would absorb any force made by one object in its attempt to move).

Such a criticism implies nothingness, because it requires that there be “room” for space to displace into in order to make more room for objects to move around. In infinite space, there can be no limitation on the movement of anything, because there is infinite space for things to move within. As objects are merely finite divisions within one infinite space, it is hardly unexpected that space would remain space regardless of whether every part of it moves or is immovable.

Perhaps science has not fully been able to explain the way that objects occupy space. Perhaps objects exchange particles at such a rate that form and structure are retained, but particles no longer occupy the same part of space (again, divisions in space are arbitrary).
“Space” in this instance is not to be confused with Outer Space; a construct which is itself an arbitrary division of absolute space.


Next Week: On God as infinite, in which I bring this whole infinity talk thing to its logical conclusion, and tackle some common ideas about the big guy in the sky.

Friday, April 9, 2010

On the infinite:

Required Reading: Infinite divisibility, the paradox of infinite divisibility, infinity,

Any thing that is infinite can be divided into an infinite number of finite parts an infinite number of times. That is infinite divisibility. For example, measurements take an indeterminate volume and use an arbitrary value or increment to divide that indeterminate volume into smaller and smaller finite values.


Every thing can be divided in that way. There is nothing that is not divisible into smaller and smaller parts; nothing that is not infinitely divisible. This applies to the infinite - which by definition is of indeterminate value - like it does to any other thing.

There can only be one infinite thing. That which is infinite is all that there is by definition. Infinity as a quality is absolute, which means that it refers to limitlessness, endlessness, boundlessness, as opposed to a vaguer incapacity for human measurement, which is inherent in the infinite in the first place. An infinite thing extends forever, in all directions, and in all ways (an infinite thing which is not infinite in every respect is not infinite - more on this later). There can be no infinite object which occupies the same space (or non-spatial plane, if such a thing exists) as another, because the infinite is endless such that any other object/entity would be a part of it necessarily.

Whatever is infinite is the only thing there is. That is a confusing statement because as humans we live in terms of the finite; we see differences between ourselves and other objects and we don't normally think of those objects and ourselves as being one thing. You are not the same as a hammer; you are not the same as a giant robotic badger; you are not the same as your identical twin, even. So the idea of being a small part (a finite division) of something much larger would, to quote the vernacular, “blow your mind.” So, in terms of human experience, there is either no infinite thing (because of our perception of objects/entities as being separate and different), or our ideas about the relations between objects must be changed, and all things must be part of the one infinite thing.



Next Week: On infinite time and space, in which I make a really lame argument for why time is infinite, just for the sake of saying so. Then I make a slightly more convincing argument about space, maybe.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

On Simultaneity:

Required Reading: Simultaneity, Relativity of simultaneity, the present, the paradox of infinite divisibility

I'd like to note, before I get down to business that the wikipedia page for simultaneity has an interesting point, which is that the root of the word "simultaneous" - simult - is indicative of a supernatural or divine coincidence. Understand, as you read the rest of this entry, just how supernatural a coincidence it would have to be for two events to occur simultaneously. Thought for food.

Simultaneity is improbable for the same reasons that pinpointing “the present” is impossible. I say improbable, because it is possible that two events could occur at the exact same time - no matter how infinitely small the increments of time-measurement are.

However, the smaller the measurements are (and remember, the increments of measurement could become infinitely smaller) the more likely it is that you'll discover that two events that appear to be simultaneous are in fact set apart by such and such an infinitely small duration. So, simultaneous events are extremely rare, to the point that it is likely that they have either never occurred or will never occur.


That said it is possible for events in progress to be happening simultaneously, provided that the "happening" of the event is described in a nonspecific way. For example, “burning” refers to the process of being burnt, but does not refer to any specific part of that process. So, two candles can be burning simultaneously, but it can't be determined by any accurate means whether they were lit simultaneously, or burnt out simultaneously, or put out simultaneously, or reached the middle of the candle simultaneously, or began to melt simultaneously, etc.

Because the occurrence of events is asymptotic (approaching zero or infinity), we have to assume (again) that it is either impossible to determine simultaneity, or it must be the case that simultaneity itself is not possible.

Just like we need relative durations in order to talk about the present, we need to think of occurrences relatively in order to assume that some of them happen simultaneously. Without turning a blind eye to the indeterminacy that's packaged in with these concepts, we would lack the ability to experience or comprehend time in a stable and cohesive sort of way.

Meanwhile simultaneity as an objective concept cannot be considered a true possibility - rather, a theoretical concept.

Next week: On the infinite, in which I tackle infinite divisibility a little more directly and try to explain what it really means for something to be infinite.

Friday, March 26, 2010

On the paradox of infinite divisibility:

Required Reading: Asymptotes, Zeno's Paradoxes, Infinite Divisibility, On the Present


Preface: Last week, I went on about how there was no way of pinpointing any moment in time accurately, because accurate measurements require infinitely smaller increments. It is a dynamic relationship which means that truly accurate measurement of anything at all is impossible.



While it seems obvious that events do happen, and must have begun to happen at some point; any attempt to figure out at which point an event actually occurs only tells us the times when the event was or wasn't happening.


The starting point for an event is always a moment that we get close to, but never meet; a sort of asymptote (remember calculus, kids?). For convenience sake, I'm applying the concept of asymptotes to any thing that gets close to, but never reaches a given measure (anything that approaches zero or infinity). Asymptotes imply infinity in that no matter how close a curve gets to an axis, it will never intersect with it because of the infinite divisibility of the space between them.

The fact that accurate measurements for beginning and end points are asymptotic (see what I did there?) suggests that each event has either always been occurring, never occurred, or is actually one event that has no beginning or end; an infinite event. The best guess of anyone as to the starting point of an event is defined by when it did not commence, as opposed to the moment that it did - because we'll never figure out what that moment is.

It’s important to note that here, as in Zeno’s original Arrow and Dichotomy paradoxes (remember the required reading?); the infinite divisibility of both space and time seems to preclude movement (or in this case, commencement of events). However, as in all of Zeno’s paradoxes, we know from experience that despite the fact that from one moment to the next, there is no way of knowing exactly when something started moving and where it moved to, the fact is that it does start moving, and does move somewhere.

Here is a possible explanation for this problem: Just as objects in space do not displace space by existing in it (they are the space they occupy - more on this in a few weeks), objects and events in time do not displace time. Basically, what I'm saying is that space and time are absolute - not relational (these are fancy philosophy terms). We estimate when the beginning and end of events happen, in terms of time. The unity and identity of each event is maintained no matter how many divisions are made in the duration between those beginning and end points - just as objects maintain their form from one point in space to another. No matter how many arbitrary divisions we make in time, an event maintains its duration, just as an object maintains its size no matter how small the increments that we measure it with are.

So, the interpretation of the present as being a relative estimate rather than an exact point is a useful fiction, which allows us to distinguish between relative (and inaccurate) starting points and relative end points in time or space.

Are relative time and space a valid substitute for knowing exact values? My position is that, technically, we can't tell the difference in our every day life, and the problem doesn't really have any noticeable effect on us as it is.

On the other hand, the indeterminacy of one of the fundamental elements of human perception is at once puzzling and intriguing. What does it mean, on a subconscious level, that events never actually start happening?


Next Week: On Simultaneity in which I dance around the idea of whether or not two things can happen at the same time, when one thing can barely seem to happen in the first place.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

On the present:

Required Reading: Infinity, Infinite divisibility, Zeno's paradoxes

Prelude - The following propositions and notes are based largely upon extrapolations and inferences I made from the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche (and certain of his followers) and the rationalist metaphysics described in the Ethics of Baruch Spinoza. There are elements of this philosophy that seem like science fiction, or don't seem plausible. It is the nature of metaphysics that concrete proof is not likely to exist.

The present is not a single point in time.

This is because time is infinitely divisible into smaller parts. The divisions we make within time are arbitrary, such as 365 days per year, 24 hours per day, 60 minutes per hour, 60 seconds per minute. Seconds divide into centiseconds, milliseconds, nanoseconds, picoseconds, and so on. These divisions are not inherent in time, and could easily have been different.

You could make an infinite number of divisions in time, be they infinitely smaller or infinitely larger. As a result, any attempt to pinpoint the present to an exact point in time is practically impossible. By any human standard, that exact moment has already become the past by the time it is perceived. For that reason, it's convenient for us to think of the present as an approximate value of time; a relative duration.

For example, you might think of today as the present, but one day is a pretty large increment of time by human standards. One day has the capacity to be divided into several smaller parts - but the same is applicable to minutes, and any other measurement. The upshot is that any attempt to describe the present in human terms becomes a clumsy “the present is now, now, now, now, now, now, now, etc.” This is to say that the present is transitory. This moment; this present is already past.

By that same token, if the present is past before we fully perceive it, then the present has a firm grounding in the future, though, admittedly, it does not extend forward very far. To explain: the perception of the present as being a duration of time rather than a specific point means that the duration includes both a moment that has already happened and a moment that is about to happen. Without that anticipatory element, the duration would only be past.

The result, if you can keep up, is that the present is both the past and the future at once, so far as our perception is concerned – it sits on the fence, so to speak.

Obviously our brains can't even conceive of the infinitesimally small increment of time that would be required to actually pinpoint the present. This is made worse by the fact that such an increment would be getting infinitely smaller (because the smaller it is, the more accurate). The result being that a measurement could never actually be made, because the increments we measure with would always be getting smaller and smaller, and never actually reach the point.

Even if humans had the capacity to experience a nanosecond as though it were an hour or a day or a year, that nanosecond itself is infinitely divisible into infinitely smaller increments, such that pinpointing the present cannot be possible. In other words, the present, as anything other than a broad, relative duration (like we normally perceive it), cannot exist.



Next Week:
On the paradox of infinite divisibility in which I try to deal with getting from here to there without any idea of where and when here and there actually are...