Wednesday 31 October 2007
It seems that only a philosopher can doubt that fire always burns*, and perhaps that's why a philosopher is most likely to get scalded by a flame. :)
* Referring to Ghazali's version of problem of Induction. In simple words: How can we be sure that fire always burns? Just because we have seen it happening in the past doesn't mean that it will happen in the future as well. A layman may laugh at this question, but philosophers are yet to come up with a satisfactory solution to this problem, which also tends to raise doubts about the integrity of science.
* Referring to Ghazali's version of problem of Induction. In simple words: How can we be sure that fire always burns? Just because we have seen it happening in the past doesn't mean that it will happen in the future as well. A layman may laugh at this question, but philosophers are yet to come up with a satisfactory solution to this problem, which also tends to raise doubts about the integrity of science.
Monday 29 October 2007
Saturday 27 October 2007
Thursday 25 October 2007
Oh can't you see what love has done
Oh can't you see
Oh can't you see what love has done
What it's doing to me
I know I hurt you and I made you cry
Did everything but murder you and I
But love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize
Oh can't you see what love has done
To every broken heart
Oh can't you see what love has done
For every heart that cries
U2, Window in the Sky
Oh can't you see
Oh can't you see what love has done
What it's doing to me
I know I hurt you and I made you cry
Did everything but murder you and I
But love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize
Oh can't you see what love has done
To every broken heart
Oh can't you see what love has done
For every heart that cries
U2, Window in the Sky
Wednesday 24 October 2007
Bertrand Russell writes about what happened after the divorce of his brother in his Autobiography:
"Elizabeth, in her turn, left him and wrote an intolerably cruel novel about him, called Vera. In this novel, Vera is already dead; she had been his wife, and he is supposed to be heartbroken at the loss of her. She died by falling out of one of the windows of the tower of Telegraph House. As the novel proceeds, the reader gradually gathers that her death was not an accident, but suicide brought on by my brother's cruelty. It was this that caused me to give my children an emphatic piece of advice: 'Do not marry a novelist.'"
"Elizabeth, in her turn, left him and wrote an intolerably cruel novel about him, called Vera. In this novel, Vera is already dead; she had been his wife, and he is supposed to be heartbroken at the loss of her. She died by falling out of one of the windows of the tower of Telegraph House. As the novel proceeds, the reader gradually gathers that her death was not an accident, but suicide brought on by my brother's cruelty. It was this that caused me to give my children an emphatic piece of advice: 'Do not marry a novelist.'"
Tuesday 23 October 2007
Monday 22 October 2007
A close friend sent this extract from the novel Gone with the Winds by Margaret Mitchell, which is a description of a character named Ashley. According to her, even though she didn't quite agree with the context, the description sounded quite a lot like me. How much i really do resemble this description can be subject to debate, but it certainly raises some very interesting points of similarity:
"He was courteous always, but aloof, remote. No one could ever tell what he was thinking about, Scarlett least of all. In the neighbourhood where everyone said exactly what he thought as soon as he thought it, Ashley’s quality of reserve nature was exasperating.
He was as proficient as any of the other young men in the usual County diversions: but he differed from all the rest in that these pleasant activities were not the end and aim of life to him. And he stood alone in his interest in books and music and his fondness for writing poetry.
… So courteously aloof, so maddeningly boring with his talk about Europe and books and music and poetry…. yet so desirable.
For Ashley was born of a line of men who used their leisures for thinking, not doing, for spinning brightly coloured dreams that had in them no touch of reality. He moved in an inner world that was more beautiful than Georgia and came back to reality with reluctance. He looked on people, and he neither liked nor disliked them. He looked on life, and was neither heartened nor saddened. He accepted the universe and his place in it for what they were and, shrugging, turned to his music and books and the better world."
And thanks again to her for the beautiful extract.
"He was courteous always, but aloof, remote. No one could ever tell what he was thinking about, Scarlett least of all. In the neighbourhood where everyone said exactly what he thought as soon as he thought it, Ashley’s quality of reserve nature was exasperating.
He was as proficient as any of the other young men in the usual County diversions: but he differed from all the rest in that these pleasant activities were not the end and aim of life to him. And he stood alone in his interest in books and music and his fondness for writing poetry.
… So courteously aloof, so maddeningly boring with his talk about Europe and books and music and poetry…. yet so desirable.
For Ashley was born of a line of men who used their leisures for thinking, not doing, for spinning brightly coloured dreams that had in them no touch of reality. He moved in an inner world that was more beautiful than Georgia and came back to reality with reluctance. He looked on people, and he neither liked nor disliked them. He looked on life, and was neither heartened nor saddened. He accepted the universe and his place in it for what they were and, shrugging, turned to his music and books and the better world."
And thanks again to her for the beautiful extract.
Sunday 21 October 2007
Saturday 20 October 2007
Thetis: [to Achilles] If you stay in Larissa, you will find peace. You will find a wonderful woman, and you will have sons and daughters, who will have children. And they'll all love you and remember your name. But when your children are dead, and their children after them, your name will be forgotten... If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. They will write stories about your victories in thousands of years! And the world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy, you will never come back... for your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom. And I shall never see you again.
And Achilles chose Troy... but it seems it wasn't much of a choice:
Briseis: Why did you choose this life?
Achilles: What life?
Briseis: To be a great warrior.
Achilles: I chose nothing. I was born,and this is what I am.
From the movie Troy
And Achilles chose Troy... but it seems it wasn't much of a choice:
Briseis: Why did you choose this life?
Achilles: What life?
Briseis: To be a great warrior.
Achilles: I chose nothing. I was born,and this is what I am.
From the movie Troy
Friday 19 October 2007
Why does it rain?
Because
The dyes of earth
Dry and parched,
Like a voice sans mirth
Arid and barren
Like a scorching hearth
Wait for the heavenly drizzle
To paint the picture
Of fertility, of birth
In lovely water colours
Why does it rain?
Because
Like mortal men
In these transient spheres
Drops die.
Pierced by solar spears,
They ascend to heaven
And are reborn as tears
Why does it rain?
Because
The gods of war sitting above
Observing, watching men’s world
Jealous of the lovers’ love
Sprinkle water in their vain abuzz
To put out the sacred fire
Why does it rain?
Because
It is the wine that drops
Which the divine hands of Muses design
To refill the hearts of men
Which as empty ewers
Wait for this poet’s wine
M. Awais Aftab
Published in today's Poet's Corner in Us magazine
Because
The dyes of earth
Dry and parched,
Like a voice sans mirth
Arid and barren
Like a scorching hearth
Wait for the heavenly drizzle
To paint the picture
Of fertility, of birth
In lovely water colours
Why does it rain?
Because
Like mortal men
In these transient spheres
Drops die.
Pierced by solar spears,
They ascend to heaven
And are reborn as tears
Why does it rain?
Because
The gods of war sitting above
Observing, watching men’s world
Jealous of the lovers’ love
Sprinkle water in their vain abuzz
To put out the sacred fire
Why does it rain?
Because
It is the wine that drops
Which the divine hands of Muses design
To refill the hearts of men
Which as empty ewers
Wait for this poet’s wine
M. Awais Aftab
Published in today's Poet's Corner in Us magazine
Thursday 18 October 2007
Tuesday 16 October 2007
Monday 15 October 2007
Helmer: First and foremost, you are a wife and mother.
Nora: That I don't believe any more. I believe that first and foremost I am an individual, just as you are.
Henrik Ibsen, A Doll's House
This reveals the true spirit of feminism, and this is precisely what the traditionalists, especially the religious people, ignore when they talk of women rights. It is not enough to give rights to women in their roles of wife, mother, daughter and sister... what is needed is a decentralizing of the perspective: the role of women is not always to be defined in relation to men. Women are first women, just like men are first men, and not husband, father, son or brother. What the traditionalists need to realize is that they have to treat women as independant individuals. To say that, "Our religion/society gives great respect to mothers and wives" is simply not enough and misses the crux of women liberation.
Nora: That I don't believe any more. I believe that first and foremost I am an individual, just as you are.
Henrik Ibsen, A Doll's House
This reveals the true spirit of feminism, and this is precisely what the traditionalists, especially the religious people, ignore when they talk of women rights. It is not enough to give rights to women in their roles of wife, mother, daughter and sister... what is needed is a decentralizing of the perspective: the role of women is not always to be defined in relation to men. Women are first women, just like men are first men, and not husband, father, son or brother. What the traditionalists need to realize is that they have to treat women as independant individuals. To say that, "Our religion/society gives great respect to mothers and wives" is simply not enough and misses the crux of women liberation.
Sunday 14 October 2007
Friday 12 October 2007
The dichotomy that i expressed between the 'question of good' and the 'question of ought' previously has been expressed with remarkable clarity by John Kilcullen in his article "Can Evolution Explain Morality?" A highly recommended reading for those interested in evolutionary theory of morality and ethics.
Here is a relevant extract:
Here is a relevant extract:
The conclusion then is quite clear: Evolution explains the existence of moral sentiments but provides ethics with no justification or foundation. In fact, no ethical theory does. So, Ethics doesn't have any foundation outside itself.'I have been discussing the question whether evolutionary theory is able to
account for the existence in human beings of moral dispositions. The question of
"foundations" is different. This means, can evolutionary theory provide us with
a reason for being moral?... Perhaps morality has no foundation outside
itself... It seems pretty clear that an evolutionary explanation will not
provide a foundation for morality. An attempt would be to say that we
ought to observe morality because moral conduct enhances the survival chances of
our genes. But why should we care about that? We do care about it, perhaps, but
if we don't (or didn't), why should we? Or it might be said that moral
behaviour on my part improves the survival chances of humanity generally (or of
sentient beings generally, or of the planet . . ). The same question arises: if
I don't in fact care about such things, can evolutionary theory give any reason
why I should?'
Wednesday 10 October 2007
In the memory of October 10, here is a personal dedication:
"Well, I never saw it coming.
And I should've started running
A long, long time ago.
And I never thought I'd doubt you,
I'm better off without you
More than you, more than you know.
I'm slowly getting closure.
I guess it's really over.
I'm finally getting better.
And now I'm picking up the pieces.
From spending all of these years
Putting my heart back together.
'Cause the day I thought I'd never get through,
I got over you."
Chris Daughtry, Over You
"Well, I never saw it coming.
And I should've started running
A long, long time ago.
And I never thought I'd doubt you,
I'm better off without you
More than you, more than you know.
I'm slowly getting closure.
I guess it's really over.
I'm finally getting better.
And now I'm picking up the pieces.
From spending all of these years
Putting my heart back together.
'Cause the day I thought I'd never get through,
I got over you."
Chris Daughtry, Over You
There is a rather peculiar form of theism (or atheism, if you prefer) in which the person loses his faith in a benovelent diety, and yet, he has been so accustomed to the idea of God that his mind is unable to reject his existence. As he result, he does believe in a God, but this is a God which is very malevolent... cruel, merciless, biased. Usually such a person likes to call himself an atheist, but it is obvious from his behaviour and thinking that he is incapable of disbelief. [I am reminded of something which Rushdie wrote: 'And was knocked forever into that middle place, unable to worship a God in whose existence he could not wholly disbelieve'] Such a conception of malevolent diety arises almost invariably through extreme suffering... when a person becomes victim to the bitter tragedies and great losses, he becomes disillusioned with the idea that God can be good. How can there be so much misery and pain in the world, if God is good? He asks, and since he cannot reject the existence of God, he comes to the conclusion that the world is being ruled by an evil and wicked diety.
[P.S. See also: Concept of God and Private Mysticism]
[P.S. See also: Concept of God and Private Mysticism]
Salieri:
Go on. Mock me. Laugh!
That was not Mozart laughing, Father.
That was God.
That was God laughing at me through that obscene giggle.
Go on, Signore. Laugh.
Show my mediocrity for all to see.
One day I will laugh at you.
Before I leave this earth. . .
. . . I will laugh at you.
From the movie Amadeus
Ah, what a movie! I saw it last night and i am deeply touched! The tragedy is so immense, i am over-whelmed!
Go on. Mock me. Laugh!
That was not Mozart laughing, Father.
That was God.
That was God laughing at me through that obscene giggle.
Go on, Signore. Laugh.
Show my mediocrity for all to see.
One day I will laugh at you.
Before I leave this earth. . .
. . . I will laugh at you.
From the movie Amadeus
Ah, what a movie! I saw it last night and i am deeply touched! The tragedy is so immense, i am over-whelmed!
Sunday 7 October 2007
Is it possible to design a computer program that mimics love, or to be precise, mimics romantic behaviour? Because after all, there is a certain recognizable pattern in the way people behave in love. If it is possible to design such a thing, perhaps it is also possible that someone might induced to fall in love with it.
Imagine yourself chatting with a new person on msn, and he/she behaves very nicely and flirts with such romantic precision that you find yourself developing feelings for him/her after a month or so... and then you discover to your consternation that the id you were talking to was a computer chatting program designed by a scientist researching on romantic behaviour!
I know, its too far-fetched to happen in reality [at least, at the moment]... but still, think about the core idea. How much validity does it have, if any?
Imagine yourself chatting with a new person on msn, and he/she behaves very nicely and flirts with such romantic precision that you find yourself developing feelings for him/her after a month or so... and then you discover to your consternation that the id you were talking to was a computer chatting program designed by a scientist researching on romantic behaviour!
I know, its too far-fetched to happen in reality [at least, at the moment]... but still, think about the core idea. How much validity does it have, if any?
Saturday 6 October 2007
Friday 5 October 2007
[Inspired by Nietzsche’s life]
The future-seeker:
In a world
That promotes the banal
He becomes the denizen
Of an alien world
Fated to be ignored and misunderstood
Ridiculed and Discriminated
But his eyes shine
With the light of tomorrow’s sun
And he smiles with resignation
Knowing that he was
Meant to be born
Posthumously
M. Awais Aftab
24.9.07
The future-seeker:
In a world
That promotes the banal
He becomes the denizen
Of an alien world
Fated to be ignored and misunderstood
Ridiculed and Discriminated
But his eyes shine
With the light of tomorrow’s sun
And he smiles with resignation
Knowing that he was
Meant to be born
Posthumously
M. Awais Aftab
24.9.07
Thursday 4 October 2007
Wednesday 3 October 2007
Bertrand Russell writes about his grandmother:
"It was obvious from her conversation that she never came anywhere near to knowing what it feels like to be in love... she lamented that so much poetry should be concerned with so trivial a subject as love. But she made my grandfather a devoted wife, and never, so far as i have been able to discover, failed to perform what her very exacting standards represented as her duty."
"It was obvious from her conversation that she never came anywhere near to knowing what it feels like to be in love... she lamented that so much poetry should be concerned with so trivial a subject as love. But she made my grandfather a devoted wife, and never, so far as i have been able to discover, failed to perform what her very exacting standards represented as her duty."
Tuesday 2 October 2007
Beauvoir never pretended that her memoirs told the whole story. “There are many things which I firmly intend to leave in obscurity,” she warned... *
But... Three years after Beauvoir's death, her executrix, Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir, published Beauvoir's letters to Sartre, completely unedited, which revealed much of what Beauvoir had wished to leave in obscurity... and which, no wonder, anyone would have liked to have left burried. However, the question with which i am concerned is not what Beauvoir wanted to hide, but to what extent was she justified in keeping some portions of her life as secret, while flaunting others to the public, enjoying her status as a philosophical celebrity? Intellectual honesty is supposed to be one of the greatest virtues for a philosopher, and yet we find Sartre and Beauvoir, philosophers who preached concepts like 'bad faith' to the world, hiding facts about their lives... [though, perhaps i am being a bit too harsh. What they did reveal to the public, and which was quite a lot, was shockingly open for most people. They extensively documented their lives, and didn't hide anything just out of respect for bourgeois notions of decency. Maybe i am being a bit too strict in demanding absolute honesty?] Were they justified in keeping their secrets secret? Is it not admirable for an autobiographical accounts to be open and honest-- brutally honest, in fact? Do people not admire Rousseau and Russell for this very honesty? [Though, i am convinced, they would have had secrets of their own too!] It was primarily inspired by the frankness of Russell's Autobiography that i began working on some autobiographical accounts of my own, but then... i stopped. No matter how much i may value intellectual honesty, but their are certain things which i value even more. For example, i cannot, and will not, exert this honesty at the expense of other people's reputations. And at the moment, i am strongly convinced that there are things and events in life which should indeed remain burried, which should not be revealed just because you wish to write a frank account of your life. Some tales are better left untold...
* [From an article by Louis Menand. Brilliantly written. If you are a fan of Sartre and Beauvoir, do read it:
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/09/26/050926crbo_books
See also my article: The Existentialist Couple, though it gives a relatively attenuated version of the relationship, as compared to Louis Menand's article.]
But... Three years after Beauvoir's death, her executrix, Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir, published Beauvoir's letters to Sartre, completely unedited, which revealed much of what Beauvoir had wished to leave in obscurity... and which, no wonder, anyone would have liked to have left burried. However, the question with which i am concerned is not what Beauvoir wanted to hide, but to what extent was she justified in keeping some portions of her life as secret, while flaunting others to the public, enjoying her status as a philosophical celebrity? Intellectual honesty is supposed to be one of the greatest virtues for a philosopher, and yet we find Sartre and Beauvoir, philosophers who preached concepts like 'bad faith' to the world, hiding facts about their lives... [though, perhaps i am being a bit too harsh. What they did reveal to the public, and which was quite a lot, was shockingly open for most people. They extensively documented their lives, and didn't hide anything just out of respect for bourgeois notions of decency. Maybe i am being a bit too strict in demanding absolute honesty?] Were they justified in keeping their secrets secret? Is it not admirable for an autobiographical accounts to be open and honest-- brutally honest, in fact? Do people not admire Rousseau and Russell for this very honesty? [Though, i am convinced, they would have had secrets of their own too!] It was primarily inspired by the frankness of Russell's Autobiography that i began working on some autobiographical accounts of my own, but then... i stopped. No matter how much i may value intellectual honesty, but their are certain things which i value even more. For example, i cannot, and will not, exert this honesty at the expense of other people's reputations. And at the moment, i am strongly convinced that there are things and events in life which should indeed remain burried, which should not be revealed just because you wish to write a frank account of your life. Some tales are better left untold...
* [From an article by Louis Menand. Brilliantly written. If you are a fan of Sartre and Beauvoir, do read it:
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/09/26/050926crbo_books
See also my article: The Existentialist Couple, though it gives a relatively attenuated version of the relationship, as compared to Louis Menand's article.]
Monday 1 October 2007
In late 2005, Dutch researchers from the University of Amsterdam ran the image of Mona Lisa through an "emotion recognition" computer software developed in collaboration with the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. The software found the smile to be 83% happy, 9% disgusted, 6% fearful, 2% angry, less than 1% neutral, and 0% surprised.
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