Part 1
Part 2
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
The Letter Killeth, but the Spirit Giveth Life
Thanks to my friend Hillary, I recently came across this monologue from Nick Cave. It is absolutely magnificent and must be shared. I suspect it will be of more interest to those who a) have a penchant for religious thought and/or b) are at least vaguely familiar with Nick Cave. These however, are certainly not mandatory prerequisites. I realize few people read my blog, but it would be interesting to hear some thoughts.
Thursday, 19 February 2009
Veckatimest
As experimental rock albums go, Yellow House was brilliant, yet even after repeated listens, it demands a level of patience from its listeners that few are willing to give. The aesthetic experiences here are reserved for those willing to put in the time. I remember upon first listen appreciating the ambition from a distance. What initially drew me into the album was actually the challenge rather than any immediate connection to the music. After accepting the challenge, my ears slowly coaxed the album's humanity out from the layers of instruments, voices, and structural U-turns. One's patience particularly pays off during those moments of direct and disarming beauty (on the fadeout in "Knife" for example - the vocals fade leaving only quiet percussion to decrescendo with plaintive piano chords). Given the way the band plays with structure, these moments of direct beauty can catch you off guard at times. The magnificent closer "Colorado" leaves us with the open ended, but perhaps slightly rhetorical question, "what now?" This question is loaded with uncertainty and must inevitably be answered by the listener. The obvious answer is, "I don't know." What this answer means however will vary among listeners. For some, the "I don't know" will express their inability to connect with the album, their unwillingness to be patient and with a shrug of the shoulders they will pass it by. For others however, the "I don't know" will express a humble confession. This confession is the beauty found in the uncertainty of an aesthetic experience. This, "I don't know" is both devastating and liberating. It is an end in itself. The phrase is perhaps all we have to offer when trying to describe the sublime with words. All great art has this respect for the uncertain in common. It must be felt more than described.
In a much less abstract sense however, Grizzly Bear is preparing to offer a different response to the question, "what now?" The answer is, Veckatimest.
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Higher Quality Pleasures
I'm finding that it can be rather difficult to maintain a blog and get a master's degree at the same time. I've been meaning to contribute a post for weeks now. Apologies aside, here are some thoughts. It starts off dry, but gets better so don't give up after the first couple paragraphs.
In a succinct but powerful quote, Mill provides a penetrative, teleological insight into human nature: "It is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied." Less of a formal argument and more of an illustration, the quote describes our capacity, and our proclivity to transcend our base, egoistic desire to satiate the insatiable carnal pleasures. One of Mill's important observations is that we all have some higher pleasures, and that we all have the capacity to pursue them in greater quality and quantity. This seems to block the accusation of elitism to an extent. It seems that a by-product of free society (more accurately as a result of general slothful apathy) is a strong sense of relativism that permeates society. Often we hear the arguments that it's simply a matter of what one prefers in life. One person might like classical music, while another likes Limp Bizkit (sp?... that may have been the first time I have ever typed that, it brings an unpleasant prickle to my palm - like petting a hedgehog against the grain). "It's just a matter of what you like," they say. No objectivity can be proved. Yet the quote still remains, "it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied." Few would disagree with this (unless they're being particularly obtuse). It's true that one particularly human trait is the ability to reflect inwardly. A level of examination, reason, and autonomy is uniquely and exclusively available to human beings. This doesn't necessarily mean that we are required to engage in exercising such a capacity, but at the same time, doing so is a primary component of a meaningful life.
To an extent, this all feels like beating a dead horse (and I will probably just keep beating the poor dead bastard), but I think there are some more interesting things to say about the higher quality pleasures. First of all, a fault of the higher quality pleasure camp is that we tend to think that our particular subjective higher quality pursuits make us more human than others. We fail to recognize that the scope of higher pleasures is rather wide and attempting to rank one higher pleasure higher than another proves to be rather difficult if not impossible. For example, a higher pleasure could be a love of a spouse, a friend, a parent, a child. Indeed what could be higher than love? Yet this is clearly of a different classification than say, a refined taste for art and music (or is it?). The point is that there is an extremely wide range of higher pleasures. The implication however, is that while everyone is capable of higher quality pleasures, they most often will avoid as many as they can.
The reason for this of course is that we have an aversion to pain. Higher quality pleasures cannot be understood or achieved without pain. No one particularly enjoys sitting through a lecture on Kant's transcendental unity of apperception, it doesn't feel good. We don't particularly like staring at an abstract painting. It initially brings confusion and one's immediate reaction is to move on. There is nothing enjoyable about running 5 miles. Your legs ache, your lungs feel like caving in. Writers often say that writing is not particularly enjoyable. It is a very painful process. All of these instances of pain however, lead to a higher quality pleasure and indeed make our lives meaningful. Higher quality pleasures come loaded with constraints. Morality for example is a constraint, though to one who has made a life of cultivating higher quality pleasures, it seems much less constraining. I think this is partially what Christ meant when he taught that "the truth shall make you free." The willingness to confront pain, to sacrifice yourself for something greater, something higher, lifts the burden of constraint and allows one to lead a meaningful life of higher pleasure.
We can take this a bit further. There is a symbolic, aesthetic sense to viewing this struggle. The world at its most basic, scientific level is teeming with violence. Think of evolution, think of basic laws of physics such as friction, think of supernova explosions. Anything that exists is a product of violence - we come into existence through extreme pain, followed by a world of violence that slowly (or in many cases quite quickly) takes its toll until sooner or later we die - a perpetual, cyclical process of creation and destruction. On the one hand it is understandable that we would try to ignore this fact. It can be unsettling, but on a teleological account, it seems that human beings were destined to embrace this truth. It is part of our purpose to exist in a world of violence - yet by this same teleological account, we were given reason, autonomy and an ability to reflect on ourselves. What makes us supremely human is to reconcile both facts of human existence. I find that the works of art that truly speak to me embrace and celebrate this fact. It is both ironic and tragic then, that we decide to ignore these facts and indulge in as many lower quality sensory, carnal pleasures as possible. We run from that which makes life worth living yet the pain is absolutely necessary and unavoidable. Through the conflict, meaning is born. Our higher quality pursuits are a metaphor for existence itself.
All of this said I tend to agree with Mill that individuals are not solely responsible for the neglect of higher pleasure pursuits. It is perhaps more a problem of government, society and the institutions we are affiliated with. It is important to reemphasize that all have the capacity to pursue higher quality pleasures, so it is worth our while to share with those who haven't cultivated very many. This said, it is equally important to share with those who are in constant pursuit of higher pleasures as well, for we all could use a greater insight to a wide range of them. I know I could use more exposure to many more. I also know that these are the very things that make people interesting. When it comes right down to it, the most important character trait that is going to interest me in a possible girlfriend is her pursuit of higher pleasures. The other stuff is important of course, we all need our lower pleasures. Balance is important, but it is the higher quality pleasures that truly make a life meaningful.
In a succinct but powerful quote, Mill provides a penetrative, teleological insight into human nature: "It is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied." Less of a formal argument and more of an illustration, the quote describes our capacity, and our proclivity to transcend our base, egoistic desire to satiate the insatiable carnal pleasures. One of Mill's important observations is that we all have some higher pleasures, and that we all have the capacity to pursue them in greater quality and quantity. This seems to block the accusation of elitism to an extent. It seems that a by-product of free society (more accurately as a result of general slothful apathy) is a strong sense of relativism that permeates society. Often we hear the arguments that it's simply a matter of what one prefers in life. One person might like classical music, while another likes Limp Bizkit (sp?... that may have been the first time I have ever typed that, it brings an unpleasant prickle to my palm - like petting a hedgehog against the grain). "It's just a matter of what you like," they say. No objectivity can be proved. Yet the quote still remains, "it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied, than a pig satisfied." Few would disagree with this (unless they're being particularly obtuse). It's true that one particularly human trait is the ability to reflect inwardly. A level of examination, reason, and autonomy is uniquely and exclusively available to human beings. This doesn't necessarily mean that we are required to engage in exercising such a capacity, but at the same time, doing so is a primary component of a meaningful life.
To an extent, this all feels like beating a dead horse (and I will probably just keep beating the poor dead bastard), but I think there are some more interesting things to say about the higher quality pleasures. First of all, a fault of the higher quality pleasure camp is that we tend to think that our particular subjective higher quality pursuits make us more human than others. We fail to recognize that the scope of higher pleasures is rather wide and attempting to rank one higher pleasure higher than another proves to be rather difficult if not impossible. For example, a higher pleasure could be a love of a spouse, a friend, a parent, a child. Indeed what could be higher than love? Yet this is clearly of a different classification than say, a refined taste for art and music (or is it?). The point is that there is an extremely wide range of higher pleasures. The implication however, is that while everyone is capable of higher quality pleasures, they most often will avoid as many as they can.
The reason for this of course is that we have an aversion to pain. Higher quality pleasures cannot be understood or achieved without pain. No one particularly enjoys sitting through a lecture on Kant's transcendental unity of apperception, it doesn't feel good. We don't particularly like staring at an abstract painting. It initially brings confusion and one's immediate reaction is to move on. There is nothing enjoyable about running 5 miles. Your legs ache, your lungs feel like caving in. Writers often say that writing is not particularly enjoyable. It is a very painful process. All of these instances of pain however, lead to a higher quality pleasure and indeed make our lives meaningful. Higher quality pleasures come loaded with constraints. Morality for example is a constraint, though to one who has made a life of cultivating higher quality pleasures, it seems much less constraining. I think this is partially what Christ meant when he taught that "the truth shall make you free." The willingness to confront pain, to sacrifice yourself for something greater, something higher, lifts the burden of constraint and allows one to lead a meaningful life of higher pleasure.
We can take this a bit further. There is a symbolic, aesthetic sense to viewing this struggle. The world at its most basic, scientific level is teeming with violence. Think of evolution, think of basic laws of physics such as friction, think of supernova explosions. Anything that exists is a product of violence - we come into existence through extreme pain, followed by a world of violence that slowly (or in many cases quite quickly) takes its toll until sooner or later we die - a perpetual, cyclical process of creation and destruction. On the one hand it is understandable that we would try to ignore this fact. It can be unsettling, but on a teleological account, it seems that human beings were destined to embrace this truth. It is part of our purpose to exist in a world of violence - yet by this same teleological account, we were given reason, autonomy and an ability to reflect on ourselves. What makes us supremely human is to reconcile both facts of human existence. I find that the works of art that truly speak to me embrace and celebrate this fact. It is both ironic and tragic then, that we decide to ignore these facts and indulge in as many lower quality sensory, carnal pleasures as possible. We run from that which makes life worth living yet the pain is absolutely necessary and unavoidable. Through the conflict, meaning is born. Our higher quality pursuits are a metaphor for existence itself.
All of this said I tend to agree with Mill that individuals are not solely responsible for the neglect of higher pleasure pursuits. It is perhaps more a problem of government, society and the institutions we are affiliated with. It is important to reemphasize that all have the capacity to pursue higher quality pleasures, so it is worth our while to share with those who haven't cultivated very many. This said, it is equally important to share with those who are in constant pursuit of higher pleasures as well, for we all could use a greater insight to a wide range of them. I know I could use more exposure to many more. I also know that these are the very things that make people interesting. When it comes right down to it, the most important character trait that is going to interest me in a possible girlfriend is her pursuit of higher pleasures. The other stuff is important of course, we all need our lower pleasures. Balance is important, but it is the higher quality pleasures that truly make a life meaningful.
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