Sunday, January 4, 2015

OPM 317(318), January 4th (2015) Meditation, Being and Learning, pp. 335


I remember reading in Arendt something about the irreducibility of singularity; that is the existential manifestation of natality in each and every human being which is the foundation of what she calls the fact of plurality.  And then she uses the example of physical pain to illustrate our own experience of our uniqueness, which is to say, our experience of ourselves that can not be communicated, that can never be communicated because what comes with bearing our own unique existential vestige of natality is what we might call the blues of singularity: in the end of the day we are these embodied beings that move through time and space, alongside others, but always apart.   Put otherwise, we can express ourselves, we can communicate, but we alone experience ourselves; we are alone in our experience.   I was reminded of this train of thought because I am wide awake at 1:55am on Sunday morning, and this is not because I have insomnia, but, rather, because I have a horrible toothache!!!  And the example Arendt uses when she is describing the irreducibility of singularity is…the toothache!  And so it is the case that try as I might to explain the pain I am experiencing, I have to endure it and the sleep deprivation that accompanies it too.  But like any writer/thinker worthy of the practice, I take to my desk and work with and through the pain throbbing in my mouth.

[nb: for whatever it’s worth, this toothache is a very old injury that I remember well, because it was the beginning of an upsetting series of events.  I was in ninth grade – I almost wrote ‘the ninth grade’ but that is a convention that comes from another generation – and I was attending the boys ninth grade basketball game at Oratory Prep.   During the half-time break – in those days they still played four quarters at every level of basketball, and took an extended break in between the second and third quarters.    And during the breaks kids would grab balls and shoot around.   And it was during the shoot around, as I was standing under the basket waiting to catch a rebound, that I took a ball straight off the rim and into my mouth, with my top right front tooth taking it for the team!  I didn’t lose the tooth, but the ball did some damage to the nerve.  And for some reason I never visited the dentist, and it ‘healed’ on its own.  But it never really healed, and from time to time it flares up.   There’s really no explanation.  Could be the dip in temperature that we’ve experienced the past few days.  It could the tension in my body from all the PES work that has been non-stop for well over two months, which is causing me to grind my teeth?  Or it could be exhaustion and dehydration – now I’m getting dramatic! – from the non-stop work plus the overly salty food I prepared last night, which featured the Dominican household favorite: tostones!!!   Whatever the cause, I’m awake at 2:11am with the company of myself and the meditation from this day ten years ago.

Before I begin my commentary, one that will not be written in the stream of music  -- what music can replace the silence of this Matins, made even quieter by the fresh blanket of snow that has fallen? – I want to share a link to the Hannah Arendt Center, which I discovered just now when searching for the citation for the toothache example.

In lieu of not finding the toothache citation, I share the quotation from the website banner:  “There are no dangerous thoughts.  Thinking itself is dangerous.” 

Is thinking dangerous?  Indeed it is dangerous, and not because the thoughts themselves are a danger, or hazardous.   Thinking it itself a dangerous undertaking.   And this is precisely why I often describe it as risk-taking.  Why?  Because it involves a leap of faith; which means we are transformed by thinking; thinking changes us because through it we are taking into the ceaseless nativity offered to us by Being itself.   Through thinking we enter the flow of Becoming, and when we enter that flow we don’t know where we will be taken.  That is, when we stop and think by ourselves or in the company of others we are entering into a transformative, dynamic and unpredictable enterprise.  This is the danger of thinking: we only know that we will be changed by it, and because we are certain that we will be changed, we can also be sure that the experience will leave us in a different place.   This is why thinking is always described as ‘self-overcoming’.

The meditation on 1/4/05 is organized around the danger associated with thinking, which is described as “disquiet questioning” and identified with “Socratic perplexity and the aporetic condition.”(BL 335)    Socrates’ represents the exemplary thinker because of his strength to endure the unpredictability of thinking, and because he was fearless.  He understood the risk of thinking, and, to his credit, he attempted to take others along for the wild ride.   “Socrates remained steadfast in the modality of questioning and understood his work as a ‘teacher’ to be complete when he had guided others into a state of contradiction and had put the discursive exchange in motion.”(BL 335)

 While it doesn’t make a ‘worldly’ appearance, which is to say that thinking  happens as a event, there are political consequences that add another dimension to the aforementioned danger.  There is something threatening about thinking to those who are not responding to the call to think.  But that is hardly the danger inherent to thinking.  Rather, it is the ontological ground, described by Heidegger as always shifting – and for this reason I described the Open (the place of thinking) as a collision zone --  that is the source of the danger.  The one who enters into that place, i.e., the learner, is subjected to the force of actualization; the power of the ceaseless Becoming of Being that one can say has almost little or no regard for human welfare.  Is that the case?  Perhaps that description is an exaggeration?  Or perhaps what has now fallen under the sign of Being is the properly post-humanist.   Indeed, Logos, whether in Heraclitus or John, remains first and foremost, originary.  What follows from Logos will be whatever it is but there is no pre-determined privileging of the human.  On the contrary,  the concern for human welfare is precisely that: a human concern.   Logos is indifferent to ethics and politics.   And those who take up the life of thinking become – as Heraclitus demonstrated, and in a radical different way, Paul too – anti-political.  Heraclitus was known for having refused the invitation to help in the writing of the laws of his Ephesus.  And Paul, as Taubes has noted in his study of the apostle, expressed a political theology in his refusal and resistance towards the existing authority, specifically, the Roman state authority.   And I read DuBois within that same tradition which placed thinking (learning) outside of the state precisely because of its being a leap taking enterprise, precisely because it is transformative and emancipatory and for that reason can never be accommodated by state authority.  “The uncertainty and unpredictability of Logos, (re)presented in the dialogic situation, entails an an-archc political life.”(BL 335)  We might call this the anti-political politics of thinking/learning.

On 1/4/05 the danger is the risk of living a life that is “’govenered’ by the ‘irrational’”(BL 335)   Thinking is described as  ‘irrational’ in the sense that is it not simply rational or reduced to reason.  That is, if by ‘reason’ we mean what is taken today to be ‘rationality.’   A more complex category of reason and rationality would rest on the dialectical and dynamic character of thinking.   And thus it would be a translation of Logos that attends to the dialectic without privileging as Hegel does the synthetic.   As noted in the preceding pages of this blog, the synthetic must be replaced by the syncretic; a gathering together that is ‘unified’ by the play of diff’rence.  For the thinking, this diff’rence that manifests ‘reasoning’ is the actualization of the ontological difference, the difference between Being and human be-ing, that grants to solitude and singularity to the thinker.  The play of diff’rence is a granting of excess in the form of singularity, in the not-Being of the human being.   And here we encounter a response to the originary question, How is it with the nothing?  A compelling response is found in thinking, in the enactment of thinking that actualizes the ontological difference.  ‘How is it with the Nothing?’  entails the work of the singular person.  Again, I emphasized in yesterday’s commentary,  thinking begins with questioning, with originary questioning; originary because it takes us to the originary source, Being, and also because it initiates and propels us into the proper relation of our becoming, which is now understood as the generic category for learning.  


1/4/05 is clear about the post-humanist implications: the attunement with thinking places us beyond ourselves.   And from this place we are capable of making art.  “To be with Being is to be released from the confines of all anthropocentric systems, and to diminish into the abode of artistic creation, the dwelling of the artwork.  To be artistic is to deny the modality of the citizen.  The artist creates in/with life, and does not live ‘under’ rules or systems of governance.  The only governing system s/he lives under is the an-archic sway of Being.”(BL 335)

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