Erich Kahler regards science as merely modeling the world, not actually depicting reality in The Nature of the Symbol. Referring to the geometrical figures, diagrams, and models of science, Kahler writes,
“In all these kinds of images the instrumental, mediatorial element predominates; none of them is meant actually to represent reality…. A model, being just a modulus, a measure of the real thing, will never permit us to forget its provisional, hypothetical nature; it can never stand for an established reality” (Erich Kahler, The Nature of the Symbol 60).
I find this passage very interesting as it reflects something about which I have often thought. I have considered the concept of science as a religion. Many scientifically minded people take science as unquestionably representing reality. In my opinion, science merely models the world, which is what Kahler argues as well. Science offers us an excellent means of predicting the events of the world, but we will never know that our models actually correspond to reality.
I also found Kahler’s ideas, expressed in a footnote, about the separation between word and meaning rather stimulating. Kahler comments,
“The word and its meaning are independent things. Here is the word – a complex of sounds and signs; there is what it means. The two are separable; each exists by itself, the word without the thing, the thing without the word. The same thing is designated in different languages by different words…” (Kahler 68).
I find it interesting to reflect on language. It appears to be our only tool in navigating the conceptual world, and yet, it is practically useless in performing a physical activity, such as kicking a soccer ball. I may have learned technique from a coach through his spoken instruction, but the actual implementation of the act referenced by those words is beyond language. Curious, indeed!
Showing posts with label Topic from Reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Topic from Reading. Show all posts
Friday, April 27, 2007
Jackie Trono - Buber: You, Not It
In I and Thou, Martin Buber identifies the two most basic words in human language, I-It and I-You, and argues that each word carries with it an associated ontology. Those who view the world through the experience of I-It understand everything as objects for use. Those who view the world through the I-You relation encounter the external as a sacred subject.
Buber contrasts the I in the I-It with the I in the I-You. He writes,
“The I of the basic word I-It appears as an ego and becomes conscious of itself as a subject (of experience and use). The I of the basic word I-You appears as a person and becomes conscious of itself as subjectivity (without any dependent genetive). Egos appear by setting themselves apart from other egos. Persons appear by entering into relation to other persons….The purpose of setting oneself apart is to experience and use, and the purpose of that is “living” – which means dying one human life long. The purpose of relation is the relation itself – touching the You” (Martin Buber, I and Thou 112-113).
Elaborating on the distinction between viewing the world as It versus viewing it as You, Buber writes that the I in I-It is a self-absorbed ego, whereas the I in I-You is a conscientious person. This distinction can be applied as ecological perspectives. The ego who views the world as It sees it as mere resource to be exploited. On the other hand, the person who views the world as You bears a respectful relation to his environment, recognizing the relation as symbiotic.
In applying Buber’s ideas to the realm of ecology, I feel that there is a correlation between the two basic words and the two basic civilizations, primal and modern. While modern people view the world as It, primal peoples view the world as You. This interpretation would account for why modern industry has no qualms with destroying the massive forests that support our existence. They see nature as simply It, a thing with only utilitarian value. Conversely, primal people appear to have much greater respect for their surrounding ecosystems and attempt to live in harmony with them, performing sacred rites for the animals they kill and aiming to not waste anything they reap. I agree with Gary Snyder that the modern world has a lot to learn from primal people.
Buber contrasts the I in the I-It with the I in the I-You. He writes,
“The I of the basic word I-It appears as an ego and becomes conscious of itself as a subject (of experience and use). The I of the basic word I-You appears as a person and becomes conscious of itself as subjectivity (without any dependent genetive). Egos appear by setting themselves apart from other egos. Persons appear by entering into relation to other persons….The purpose of setting oneself apart is to experience and use, and the purpose of that is “living” – which means dying one human life long. The purpose of relation is the relation itself – touching the You” (Martin Buber, I and Thou 112-113).
Elaborating on the distinction between viewing the world as It versus viewing it as You, Buber writes that the I in I-It is a self-absorbed ego, whereas the I in I-You is a conscientious person. This distinction can be applied as ecological perspectives. The ego who views the world as It sees it as mere resource to be exploited. On the other hand, the person who views the world as You bears a respectful relation to his environment, recognizing the relation as symbiotic.
In applying Buber’s ideas to the realm of ecology, I feel that there is a correlation between the two basic words and the two basic civilizations, primal and modern. While modern people view the world as It, primal peoples view the world as You. This interpretation would account for why modern industry has no qualms with destroying the massive forests that support our existence. They see nature as simply It, a thing with only utilitarian value. Conversely, primal people appear to have much greater respect for their surrounding ecosystems and attempt to live in harmony with them, performing sacred rites for the animals they kill and aiming to not waste anything they reap. I agree with Gary Snyder that the modern world has a lot to learn from primal people.
Jackie Trono - Snyder On Learning From Primal People
In Turtle Island, Gary Snyder is calling for us to rediscover and reconnect with the land that houses us. Along with many moving poems, Turtle Island also contains an essay calling for environmental awareness, “Four Changes.” Here, Snyder posits many interesting thoughts and questions. What I found most interesting was his comment that we, as the “civilized,” need to learn from indigenous people. He writes,
“A line is drawn between primitive peoples and civilized peoples. I think there is a wisdom in the worldview of primitive peoples that we have to refer ourselves to, and learn from” (Gary Snyder, Turtle Island 107).
I prefer the word primal to primitive because primitive pejoratively connotes ineptitude. Primal, on the other hand, refers to that which is most fundamental. I believe primal people are more fundamentally connected with their environments than the civilized people secluded in cities who go off into nature for a respite from the bustle of their daily lives. Primal people live in nature and, as Snyder says, have done a much better job of keeping open the lines of communication with nature.
The idea of learning from indigenous, primal people is of great interest to me. I intend to spend two weeks with a group at the healing center, Mayantuyacu, of an Ashaninca shaman, Juan Flores, in the Peruvian Amazon this August for the purpose of gaining greater access to that gnosis of which Narby speaks in The Cosmic Serpent. I found out about Juan through emails with Narby, so I believe he is a reputable source for ascension. I wish to broaden my understanding of the animated aspect of the natural world. Although I can analytically think about such a concept while removed here in Virginia, I believe that only by total immersion in the environment will I be able to obtain any real understanding of that ontological perspective that insists that plants can communicate and that biomolecular information is something I can extract from my surroundings without the use of scientific instruments. Fascinating! I am really looking forward to this experience.
“A line is drawn between primitive peoples and civilized peoples. I think there is a wisdom in the worldview of primitive peoples that we have to refer ourselves to, and learn from” (Gary Snyder, Turtle Island 107).
I prefer the word primal to primitive because primitive pejoratively connotes ineptitude. Primal, on the other hand, refers to that which is most fundamental. I believe primal people are more fundamentally connected with their environments than the civilized people secluded in cities who go off into nature for a respite from the bustle of their daily lives. Primal people live in nature and, as Snyder says, have done a much better job of keeping open the lines of communication with nature.
The idea of learning from indigenous, primal people is of great interest to me. I intend to spend two weeks with a group at the healing center, Mayantuyacu, of an Ashaninca shaman, Juan Flores, in the Peruvian Amazon this August for the purpose of gaining greater access to that gnosis of which Narby speaks in The Cosmic Serpent. I found out about Juan through emails with Narby, so I believe he is a reputable source for ascension. I wish to broaden my understanding of the animated aspect of the natural world. Although I can analytically think about such a concept while removed here in Virginia, I believe that only by total immersion in the environment will I be able to obtain any real understanding of that ontological perspective that insists that plants can communicate and that biomolecular information is something I can extract from my surroundings without the use of scientific instruments. Fascinating! I am really looking forward to this experience.
Jackie Trono - Eisenberg On The Gaia Hypothesis
Among other topics in The Ecology of Eden, Evan Eisenberg takes a look at the Gaia hypothesis. Developed in the 1960s by James Lovelock, the Gaia hypothesis basically proposes that the Earth’s living and nonliving parts come together in a complexly interconnected system that is analogous to a single living organism. Lovelock was first intrigued by the fact that the Earth, unlike other planets, is not at chemical equilibrium. Yet, the Earth has maintained some other kind of equilibrium in the constancy of its mixture of gases, the constancy of its temperature in spite of the increased temperature of the sun, and by in its re-stabilizing after recovery from major traumas. Lovelock proposed that this regulatory mechanism was a direct result of the nature of Earth as a complex living organism.
Eisenberg comments curiously that the Gaia hypothesis does not resolve the problem of understanding the constancies present on the Earth, but rather furthers the inquiry. He writes,
“The Gaia hypothesis is not so much an answer as a question: Why is the earth such a nice place to live? Why has it stayed a nice place to live for nigh on three billion years? Barring divine intervention, the answer must have something to do with the action of life itself. But that in itself is not an answer; just a reasonable narrowing down of the question” (Evan Eisenberg, The Ecology of Eden 268).
Thus, Gaia begs the question of why the planet is hospitable to life. Skeptics claim that life evolved to find the environment fitting. Eisenberg, however, retorts that instead it seems as though life furnished the planet like a family moving into a new house, the carpet and walls were already there, but life added the details that made Earth hospitable.
I have to wonder how exactly Gaians, claiming that the hospitability and the stability of Earth has something to do with life, propose that life actually affects things. Interestingly, Eisenberg comments, “The Gaians do not claim to know exactly what the explanation or mechanism is, only that it must have something to do with life” (Eisenberg 269-70). Then the Gaia hypothesis is not an answer, but truly only a narrowing of the question of how this planet works. Again, I have to wonder what the real use of such a hypothesis is. It seems to me that its best use is in the ideological shift resultant from viewing the Earth as alive. I hope that such an animated view of the natural world would help breed a greater respect and care for the Earth.
Eisenberg comments curiously that the Gaia hypothesis does not resolve the problem of understanding the constancies present on the Earth, but rather furthers the inquiry. He writes,
“The Gaia hypothesis is not so much an answer as a question: Why is the earth such a nice place to live? Why has it stayed a nice place to live for nigh on three billion years? Barring divine intervention, the answer must have something to do with the action of life itself. But that in itself is not an answer; just a reasonable narrowing down of the question” (Evan Eisenberg, The Ecology of Eden 268).
Thus, Gaia begs the question of why the planet is hospitable to life. Skeptics claim that life evolved to find the environment fitting. Eisenberg, however, retorts that instead it seems as though life furnished the planet like a family moving into a new house, the carpet and walls were already there, but life added the details that made Earth hospitable.
I have to wonder how exactly Gaians, claiming that the hospitability and the stability of Earth has something to do with life, propose that life actually affects things. Interestingly, Eisenberg comments, “The Gaians do not claim to know exactly what the explanation or mechanism is, only that it must have something to do with life” (Eisenberg 269-70). Then the Gaia hypothesis is not an answer, but truly only a narrowing of the question of how this planet works. Again, I have to wonder what the real use of such a hypothesis is. It seems to me that its best use is in the ideological shift resultant from viewing the Earth as alive. I hope that such an animated view of the natural world would help breed a greater respect and care for the Earth.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Christopher Carter - The Greeks and Modern Convienence
Greek culture advocated urbanization and public life. The Greeks did not view nature as something to be cherished or preserved for personal enjoyment. Nature was life; it was a necessity and nothing more. Is this really a good thing? Should we regard nature as something that simply "is" or should we cherish it? Romans sought not only to contain nature, but to control it as well. They "used and abused" nature so to speak, much like we do today. The alliance between man and grass was officially over shortly after it began. Aqueducts simply carried water into the city. The Greeks didn't feel like going to the river to bring the water back into the city, they designed tools and architecture to bring the water to them.
I don't think I would have too much of a problem with going to get water from a stream. I don't think it could be that hard to live without some modern conveniences except if you weren't able to heat up a house if it was cold or make a house colder if it was steaming hot. Temperature control is probably the only modern convenience that I really wouldn't want to live without. The problem that the Greeks had when they abused the environment is that they had tons of their own waste in their streets. They polluted their cities themselves and disrespected their forests, similar to how we have factories that produce smog and have lumber mills that cut thousands of trees per day. If you think about it, living like the Greeks would not be that great. Not only would you be slapping the environment in the face, but you also would not be living that much greater than you would if you just lived in the environment itself. Nowadays we have water treatment plants and sewage systems that don't even require us to look at the water we drink until it comes up into our tap. I think this results in a great disassociation between man and ecology. It sums it all up when we don't even get to see the giver of life, water, until it finally comes up into our man made spout or tap.
I don't think I would have too much of a problem with going to get water from a stream. I don't think it could be that hard to live without some modern conveniences except if you weren't able to heat up a house if it was cold or make a house colder if it was steaming hot. Temperature control is probably the only modern convenience that I really wouldn't want to live without. The problem that the Greeks had when they abused the environment is that they had tons of their own waste in their streets. They polluted their cities themselves and disrespected their forests, similar to how we have factories that produce smog and have lumber mills that cut thousands of trees per day. If you think about it, living like the Greeks would not be that great. Not only would you be slapping the environment in the face, but you also would not be living that much greater than you would if you just lived in the environment itself. Nowadays we have water treatment plants and sewage systems that don't even require us to look at the water we drink until it comes up into our tap. I think this results in a great disassociation between man and ecology. It sums it all up when we don't even get to see the giver of life, water, until it finally comes up into our man made spout or tap.
Christopher Carter - Gardens
The word garden comes from the root meaning " to enclose". Plants within the garden could live longer thanks to the incorporation of outside water sources, thereby prolonging spring within the garden. We all take gardens for granted. Almost all of us have gardens in our backyards, and sometimes we don't even pay that much attention to them. Some of us, however, tend to our gardens every single day like they're a gift from God. Some people devote their lives to gardening, and do it day in and day out.
I don't really think that I have enough appreciation for gardens now that I think about it. Some of the images in Baraka really made me think in terms of "wild gardens" versus "domesticated gardens." Similar to domesticated animals and wild animals, gardens also act in similar ways. Just like animals can get out of control in different alien environments, plants can do the same thing. Introducing an alien species such as "cane toads" into Australian culture can drastically alter that ecosystem. What would you do if someone introduced an alien species into your ecosystem? Would you combat it or just let nature take it's course? The chapter kind of makes me think about what I would do in that situation. Half of me wants to take action and the other half wants to just see what happens. I really don't know what I would do if that literally happened in my backyard, like it happened to many Australians.
I don't really think that I have enough appreciation for gardens now that I think about it. Some of the images in Baraka really made me think in terms of "wild gardens" versus "domesticated gardens." Similar to domesticated animals and wild animals, gardens also act in similar ways. Just like animals can get out of control in different alien environments, plants can do the same thing. Introducing an alien species such as "cane toads" into Australian culture can drastically alter that ecosystem. What would you do if someone introduced an alien species into your ecosystem? Would you combat it or just let nature take it's course? The chapter kind of makes me think about what I would do in that situation. Half of me wants to take action and the other half wants to just see what happens. I really don't know what I would do if that literally happened in my backyard, like it happened to many Australians.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Christopher Carter - Arcadia
The "summer place" is the "other" Arcadia. It's the Arcadia that we escape to. It's the "Outer Banks" that we take time off to go visit. It's no longer just an indulgence of the rich like Xanadu was. I mean, we don't want "real country" – we want a few conveniences and a touch of city life. As far as Gods go, Pan was a perfect choice but it still was kind of odd. As the Chief God of Arcadia, a Half man half goat? It's all kind of weird compared to traditional Greek gods who were very masculine, even some of the female Goddesses had some masculine traits.
But to get back to Arcadia, I think about people going to visit other places all of the time to "get away", but I never really want to "get away." If I like being in a place, I don't really want to leave it all of the time and go other places. Breaks are a time when you can really sit back, relax, and enjoy where you are without having to worry about going somewhere or doing a lot of things. I like the "first" Arcadia, which is here, home. Modern conveniences and the like are something I don't want to live without, but I definitely don't want to live in a big city somewhere with too many conveniences.
But to get back to Arcadia, I think about people going to visit other places all of the time to "get away", but I never really want to "get away." If I like being in a place, I don't really want to leave it all of the time and go other places. Breaks are a time when you can really sit back, relax, and enjoy where you are without having to worry about going somewhere or doing a lot of things. I like the "first" Arcadia, which is here, home. Modern conveniences and the like are something I don't want to live without, but I definitely don't want to live in a big city somewhere with too many conveniences.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Christopher Carter - "Cloister and the Plow"
The "Cloister and the Plow" was my favorite chapter in the Ecology of Eden. The chapter talks about Byzantium Monks that lived in cells around a central garden. Many people that witnessed these spectacles said that they "looked into a prefigured heaven". What did it look like? What would have it
According to an account from the book, the St. Benedict monastery had "all necessaries" to be found within cloister walls. I think this is an amazing thought. To think that everything was found in these beautiful "Echoes of Eden" makes me want to actually make one of my own.
I always wonder about the effect of "Zen Gardens" on people. Do they calm people in a similar way that the Cloisters of the Monasteries calmed Byzantium Monks, just in a smaller way?
Slowly but surely all of the technology from the monks builds from a plow, to greater farming, to more products, to production and capitalism. This cataclysmic chain reaction probably could have been seen by a lot of people, but I don't know how many people would have stopped it out of sheer need for food and greed. People do not want to stop producing or stop growing out of "necessity." It is now necessary for people to want to go to the grocery store and purchase mass amounts of food for themselves and their family, not just enough to survive for the day.
According to an account from the book, the St. Benedict monastery had "all necessaries" to be found within cloister walls. I think this is an amazing thought. To think that everything was found in these beautiful "Echoes of Eden" makes me want to actually make one of my own.
I always wonder about the effect of "Zen Gardens" on people. Do they calm people in a similar way that the Cloisters of the Monasteries calmed Byzantium Monks, just in a smaller way?
Slowly but surely all of the technology from the monks builds from a plow, to greater farming, to more products, to production and capitalism. This cataclysmic chain reaction probably could have been seen by a lot of people, but I don't know how many people would have stopped it out of sheer need for food and greed. People do not want to stop producing or stop growing out of "necessity." It is now necessary for people to want to go to the grocery store and purchase mass amounts of food for themselves and their family, not just enough to survive for the day.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Technology and Evolution, by Ernie Stanley
In relation to Kelly’s previous blog and with the “technological tether” dancing in mind I approach one of my semester theses. However, my agenda with technology is a bit different. I do not yet accept that ‘technology’, and the tethers we develop through it have shaped us determinately. Rather I think something much simpler and universal has shaped us. I find no rational explanation to separate man from Nature and its “laws”. Technology is most certainly not a concept that can afford justification to the “unnaturalness” (if one wishes to make such a bold claim) of man and how we have developed. In fact, I present that technology has NO place in a discussion outside of the realms of Nature and the natural, and supposing of otherwise is agent against truth. Technology is, in fact, a matter of the natural.
Largely influenced by Radovan Richta and his work presented in Civilization at the Crossroads, a compilation of discourses on human-technological relationships. Richta claims that we as humans have reached a stage in evolution, one alongside technology, which provides for contrast between man and the rest of nature (which for the most part remains unconscious of technology). Personally elaborating on his claims, I would say that man in fact came first rather than second in the techno-human relationship. There is a catch though, technology also came first (as conscious developed so was technology revealed). I find that actuality of technology is that it is a mode revealing of survival which is universally accessible rather than a contrivance of man.
However, I ask what has brought man away from what I call “the primitive” and into this mode of survival? I find semblance of understanding in Lewis Mumford’s (in his work The Myth of the Machine ) description of the development of man and his unique identity in nature:
This claim brings forth the idea that man’s mind is what seperates him from the primitive. Without man’s mind, we would find ourselves unconscious of the evolutionary branch that technology brings forth. It is man’s increased capacity that has allowed him to consciously recognize the concept of survival, and thus brought forth the discovery (NOT INVENTION) of technology. And I also find that technology is simply a logical mode, determined by evolution itself, through which the human species continues to ensure its survival, and it is not unique to our species but rather simply unachieved in magnitude by other conscious beings (However, I will note that several primate species have developed relatively advanced tools as a means of survival).
Simply: To consider technology anything other than a metaphysics governed by natural laws to be an absurdist notion at best. Considering technology as otherwise would force the ignorance of other tool-using species, and any recognition of these other species would eliminate the tangible separation of man and the primitive, a logical paradox which renders the argument: technology as the human determinate, false. However, instead of continuing to argue (I have a term paper for this), delving into the relation spirituality and creativity play in technology as a field of nature/reality, I will instead pose a question: Under what conditions could technology be considered not part of the natural world?
Largely influenced by Radovan Richta and his work presented in Civilization at the Crossroads, a compilation of discourses on human-technological relationships. Richta claims that we as humans have reached a stage in evolution, one alongside technology, which provides for contrast between man and the rest of nature (which for the most part remains unconscious of technology). Personally elaborating on his claims, I would say that man in fact came first rather than second in the techno-human relationship. There is a catch though, technology also came first (as conscious developed so was technology revealed). I find that actuality of technology is that it is a mode revealing of survival which is universally accessible rather than a contrivance of man.
However, I ask what has brought man away from what I call “the primitive” and into this mode of survival? I find semblance of understanding in Lewis Mumford’s (in his work The Myth of the Machine ) description of the development of man and his unique identity in nature:
There was nothing uniquely human in tool-making until was modified by linguistic symbols, aesthetic designs and socially transmitted knowledge.
This claim brings forth the idea that man’s mind is what seperates him from the primitive. Without man’s mind, we would find ourselves unconscious of the evolutionary branch that technology brings forth. It is man’s increased capacity that has allowed him to consciously recognize the concept of survival, and thus brought forth the discovery (NOT INVENTION) of technology. And I also find that technology is simply a logical mode, determined by evolution itself, through which the human species continues to ensure its survival, and it is not unique to our species but rather simply unachieved in magnitude by other conscious beings (However, I will note that several primate species have developed relatively advanced tools as a means of survival).
Simply: To consider technology anything other than a metaphysics governed by natural laws to be an absurdist notion at best. Considering technology as otherwise would force the ignorance of other tool-using species, and any recognition of these other species would eliminate the tangible separation of man and the primitive, a logical paradox which renders the argument: technology as the human determinate, false. However, instead of continuing to argue (I have a term paper for this), delving into the relation spirituality and creativity play in technology as a field of nature/reality, I will instead pose a question: Under what conditions could technology be considered not part of the natural world?
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Christopher Carter - The Ecology of Eden: Chapter 13 - Arcadia
3/11/07
I’ll start this off with one of the series of chapters I’d like to talk about in the book “The Ecology of Eden.” I found these sets of chapters to be incredibly fascinating, considering they are about a topic that I have a profound interest in; Arcadia. Specifically the myths and legends revolving around Greek society and history. Arcadia is “paradise”, but it is also the realization of a pastoral Eden on Earth.
However, it is not just paradise, it is filled with many bad thoughts and ideas, mainly the realization that there can never really be a paradise, which hurts especially when you have come so far. Melancholy in Pastoral is found in inevitable change, unrequited love, and death. However, the book states that “never before have so many people tried to live in Arcadia” p.145. Now, in Suburbia, we have our new found Arcadia, described in the book as “smooth shaven; chemical splashed lawns [that] replace grassland and brush”. I want to know how many people in American society actually think that Suburbia is close to Arcadia, or how many people are satisfied with Suburbia itself. I don’t think many would agree with the fact that Suburbia is “nice”. I think most people would imagine a lake house, or something of that sort.
I’ll start this off with one of the series of chapters I’d like to talk about in the book “The Ecology of Eden.” I found these sets of chapters to be incredibly fascinating, considering they are about a topic that I have a profound interest in; Arcadia. Specifically the myths and legends revolving around Greek society and history. Arcadia is “paradise”, but it is also the realization of a pastoral Eden on Earth.
However, it is not just paradise, it is filled with many bad thoughts and ideas, mainly the realization that there can never really be a paradise, which hurts especially when you have come so far. Melancholy in Pastoral is found in inevitable change, unrequited love, and death. However, the book states that “never before have so many people tried to live in Arcadia” p.145. Now, in Suburbia, we have our new found Arcadia, described in the book as “smooth shaven; chemical splashed lawns [that] replace grassland and brush”. I want to know how many people in American society actually think that Suburbia is close to Arcadia, or how many people are satisfied with Suburbia itself. I don’t think many would agree with the fact that Suburbia is “nice”. I think most people would imagine a lake house, or something of that sort.
Ecology of Eden - Nature simply "is"
3/11/07
The “Cloister and the Plow” was my favorite chapter in the Ecology of Eden. The chapter talks about Byzantium Monks that lived in cells around a central garden. Many people that witnessed these spectacles said that they “looked into a prefigured heaven”.
According to an account from the book, the St. Benedict monastery had “all necessaries” to be found within cloister walls. I think this is an amazing thought. To think that everything was found in these beautiful “Echoes of Eden” makes me want to actually make one of my own.
Many people thought that these were so perfect geometrically that they were heaven itself. Many people that I have talked to in my church relate to the fact that everything in nature is symmetrical and “planned”. Our body parts and many objects in nature are symmetrical and perfectly the same on both sides, many which say is a “miracle.” These phenomenon are natural, but many would say that the gardens transcended these things and brought us into an entirely new plane.
The Plow section of the chapter talks about a chain reaction that was brought about by the invention of the plow. Now that horses and work animals could plow fields, oats could be fed to horses and animals, which could in turn, pull the plow, which led to the stiff collar harness, which led to the iron shoe. These inventions led to the invention of many other inventions.
The “Cloister and the Plow” was my favorite chapter in the Ecology of Eden. The chapter talks about Byzantium Monks that lived in cells around a central garden. Many people that witnessed these spectacles said that they “looked into a prefigured heaven”.
According to an account from the book, the St. Benedict monastery had “all necessaries” to be found within cloister walls. I think this is an amazing thought. To think that everything was found in these beautiful “Echoes of Eden” makes me want to actually make one of my own.
Many people thought that these were so perfect geometrically that they were heaven itself. Many people that I have talked to in my church relate to the fact that everything in nature is symmetrical and “planned”. Our body parts and many objects in nature are symmetrical and perfectly the same on both sides, many which say is a “miracle.” These phenomenon are natural, but many would say that the gardens transcended these things and brought us into an entirely new plane.
The Plow section of the chapter talks about a chain reaction that was brought about by the invention of the plow. Now that horses and work animals could plow fields, oats could be fed to horses and animals, which could in turn, pull the plow, which led to the stiff collar harness, which led to the iron shoe. These inventions led to the invention of many other inventions.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Jackie Trono - Homo narrans?
A few weeks ago, Dr. Redick mentioned (and we briefly discussed) Walter Fischer’s work, “Narration As a Paradigm of Human Communication.” (Fischer’s work is available [in segments] on the WebCT site for our class.) Here, Fischer presents his argument for the primacy of the narrative paradigm over the rational-world paradigm. Each paradigm comes with its own presuppositions and implications about the nature of humans and their interpersonal interaction.
The rational-world paradigm presupposes five things, according to Fischer. They are: (1) humans are essentially rational beings, (2) discourse that features clear-cut inferential and implicative structures is standard, (3) the conduct of argument is situational, (4) rationality is determined by subject-matter, knowledge, and argumentative ability, and (5) the world is a set of logical puzzles that are solvable by analysis and reason. With these five presuppositions in mind, one can see that the rational-world paradigm suggests that argument is the means of being human; thus, being rational or learned means being competent in argument.
On the other hand, Fischer’s narrative paradigm presupposes that (1) humans are essentially storytellers, (2) “good reasons,” which vary in form among situations, genres, and media of communication, are standard, (3) the practice of good reasons is ruled multifariously by history, biography, culture, and character, among other forces, (4) rationality relies on the nature of persons as narrative beings, and (5) the world is a set of stories to be chosen to further the process of continual re-creation. Arising from these presuppositions is the concept that narrative rationality operates by identification rather than deliberation. According to Fischer, there are three reasons why narrative is more universal and efficacious than argument. They are: (1) narration comes closer to actual experience of the world, (2) narrative probability and fidelity are innate, not learned, and (3) narration works by suggestion and identification. As Fischer writes, “stories are enactments of the whole mind in concert with itself.”
I’m not sure with whom I side on the subject of the fundamental state of man. Fischer would have us view man as Homo narrans, man the storyteller. The wider world has us as Homo sapiens, man the wise. In a recent discussion with Dr. Teschner, he suggested that perhaps we are really Homo ludens, man the player. The shift in emphasis from Fischer to Teschner is that man either mediates his experience through language, through reflection, or that he simply acts. In the course of his essay on the narrative paradigm Fischer quotes Heidegger: “We are a conversation…conversation and its unity support our existence.” Do I agree with Heidegger? Here, I recall Dr. Redick’s reading of Helen Keller’s ascent to knowledge through language. Dr. Redick claimed in class that we cannot have differentiated knowledge without language, and I suppose I agree. Notably, however, all of us have had experiences we would refer to as ineffable. Yes, this is a word for the experience, but it really tells us nothing of the experience except that ineffability, our inability to articulate its contents, is its main feature linguistically. In many cases ineffable experiences are the most behaviorally altering in one’s repertoire. Considering Heidegger again, I’m still uncertain. I do think that there is more to the human experience than the constituents of his language would allow. Perhaps the ineffable experience is incommunicable, but I don’t think that its incommunicability in any way diminishes its efficacy.
What is more primary – man’s status as an active/productive creature or his status as a linguistically-mediated/narrative being? Is there a hard distinction between the two states? I find this topic enthralling and yet I feel no closer to a clear answer after countless hours of consideration. I suppose that’s one of the larger problems for humans in general. We have these experiences, we reflect on them, we mediate them with language, but the speed at which we process the experience never nears the speed at which we have new experiences that we must then reflect upon and mediate with language. To confound the problem further, the process often occurs in a random order, e.g. we reflect upon a previous experience, try to mediate it with language, and create new complex metaphysically problematic experiences. There is a mysterious interplay among these states of man, and I don’t know that I’ll ever feel satisfied as to its solution.
The rational-world paradigm presupposes five things, according to Fischer. They are: (1) humans are essentially rational beings, (2) discourse that features clear-cut inferential and implicative structures is standard, (3) the conduct of argument is situational, (4) rationality is determined by subject-matter, knowledge, and argumentative ability, and (5) the world is a set of logical puzzles that are solvable by analysis and reason. With these five presuppositions in mind, one can see that the rational-world paradigm suggests that argument is the means of being human; thus, being rational or learned means being competent in argument.
On the other hand, Fischer’s narrative paradigm presupposes that (1) humans are essentially storytellers, (2) “good reasons,” which vary in form among situations, genres, and media of communication, are standard, (3) the practice of good reasons is ruled multifariously by history, biography, culture, and character, among other forces, (4) rationality relies on the nature of persons as narrative beings, and (5) the world is a set of stories to be chosen to further the process of continual re-creation. Arising from these presuppositions is the concept that narrative rationality operates by identification rather than deliberation. According to Fischer, there are three reasons why narrative is more universal and efficacious than argument. They are: (1) narration comes closer to actual experience of the world, (2) narrative probability and fidelity are innate, not learned, and (3) narration works by suggestion and identification. As Fischer writes, “stories are enactments of the whole mind in concert with itself.”
I’m not sure with whom I side on the subject of the fundamental state of man. Fischer would have us view man as Homo narrans, man the storyteller. The wider world has us as Homo sapiens, man the wise. In a recent discussion with Dr. Teschner, he suggested that perhaps we are really Homo ludens, man the player. The shift in emphasis from Fischer to Teschner is that man either mediates his experience through language, through reflection, or that he simply acts. In the course of his essay on the narrative paradigm Fischer quotes Heidegger: “We are a conversation…conversation and its unity support our existence.” Do I agree with Heidegger? Here, I recall Dr. Redick’s reading of Helen Keller’s ascent to knowledge through language. Dr. Redick claimed in class that we cannot have differentiated knowledge without language, and I suppose I agree. Notably, however, all of us have had experiences we would refer to as ineffable. Yes, this is a word for the experience, but it really tells us nothing of the experience except that ineffability, our inability to articulate its contents, is its main feature linguistically. In many cases ineffable experiences are the most behaviorally altering in one’s repertoire. Considering Heidegger again, I’m still uncertain. I do think that there is more to the human experience than the constituents of his language would allow. Perhaps the ineffable experience is incommunicable, but I don’t think that its incommunicability in any way diminishes its efficacy.
What is more primary – man’s status as an active/productive creature or his status as a linguistically-mediated/narrative being? Is there a hard distinction between the two states? I find this topic enthralling and yet I feel no closer to a clear answer after countless hours of consideration. I suppose that’s one of the larger problems for humans in general. We have these experiences, we reflect on them, we mediate them with language, but the speed at which we process the experience never nears the speed at which we have new experiences that we must then reflect upon and mediate with language. To confound the problem further, the process often occurs in a random order, e.g. we reflect upon a previous experience, try to mediate it with language, and create new complex metaphysically problematic experiences. There is a mysterious interplay among these states of man, and I don’t know that I’ll ever feel satisfied as to its solution.
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