A weedy florilegium

Weaving Wierd
‘

Web of Beliefs

Landlord

1 “Cause” can refer to reconfiguration, in which a new thing emerges from preexisting things, or “cause” can refer to the production of a new thing from non-existing things. [EDIT] The term itself is inherently ambiguous. Its sense is only derived from analogy; the analogy itself presupposes objects (things) which are related in a certain and meaningful way and that the analogy itself can be an analogy for other things. Therefore, the “analogy,” by use, presupposes its internal contents and presupposes that at least external another system for which it can be an analogy. “Cause” is understood in this way: that it is cognitively meaningful by reference to another system. The problem: in understanding “cause,” you do not access the “origin” of any thing within the other system. That a new thing is perceived may be called “causation” or that the concepts “new” or “novel” is meaningful may be called cause. But in giving “causation” its meaning, a system that is related cannot give “causation” an origin. Imagine this: the creation of the 47th iPod in a factory. It is “new” and “novel” to the system of [the factory], [the store in which its sold], [the house in which it now resides], etc. However, the no one could have conceived its being created at the exact time in the exact way in which it was created. From this, we see that “causation” has much to do with “ignorance” and its relation to “perception.” This notions combined give us a meaningful understanding of “causation.”

2 A person has a belief or beliefs. And for that person, his or her beliefs will only entail certain propositions [for that person alone]. When you use “speculation as belief” in your argument, you are using it in an equivocal way. Speculation refers to [a single person's speculation].

3 People may speculate in concert, of course, but this does not guarantee any new thing as existing (for instance, a communally accepted true definition. For a communally agreed upon concept, it will always be a tentative one. But what is certain is that it is possible for a person to hold on to a concept solidly. For instance, I can say for certain that I will always belief that there is only one member of the null-class. But for a community qua community, this principle axiom of set-theory may shift to a mutated definition. But not for a community qua individuals. This point is important because when we say “belief” we mean a person’s beliefs, not a communities beliefs or “the Form of Belief.”

4 Many arguments will use “belief” as if it were a Platonic Form. This is poor philosophical grammar. Thus, the argument is not false or true, but meaningless. If you encounter an argument of this type, detached from humanity, you should move on to a better argument to attend to.

When we consider whether a something such as God exists, what must first be ascertained, obviously, is what is meant by the word “God.” This is the more general endeavor; but what is more specific is this: Can we count what is meant by “God” as a something that, in analyzing the referential presupposition, counts as a thing in the most basic and ordinary sense. By “basic” I consider that which is atomic to a system that is perceived; for instance, in a system of players on a football team, I might call the quarterback a basic unit of that team. Of course, what must further be checked is if my use of “team” is proper. In doing so, I have committed myself to a semantic treatment, an assertion that this collection (the “team”) is intelligible and commonly accepted linguistically by any other language speaker of my learned and communal language. In reflecting on the semantic preoccupation of “God,” would it be that we can perceive it in a most basic sense, as delineated by my analogy? Furthermore, to the nature of ordinariness, how might we consider this concept “God” as such? Can we obtain a standard by which “God,” in being used within language, is judged without committing any error to that language? An error might very well, in this case, consist of breaking the boundaries presupposed by that language of intelligibility. Would it be that the use of “God,” brings about an instance of communication breakdown–where language fails to capture the meaning of this term’s employment. But most importantly comes the issue of reducibility of the concept itself. Specifically, I might suppose that when a language speaker utters “God” in some sentence A, that usage of “God” can only be understood because of its proper use and coherence within the totality of the language itself and within the constructed sentence itself. In being coherent within a sentence, the use of “God” must be understood by relation to some particular event or object. The entire sentence itself will possess a meaning, a sense, if the use of “God,” in being related to some particular event or object, does not prevent the sentence A from having a use within the language in which that sentence inheres. The question now, then, is this: Does “God” exist in language wherewith no relation can be observed? To play hyperbolic: What would be meant by a language if she were to utter, strictly, “God!” without situational context. Naturally, one could imagine a person reacting to a terrible accident or signaling one’s own frustration, but imagine that there is nothing to which one is responding. We are continually responding to events and objects, so clearly the use of “God” must be combined with something else in discourse, contrived (argumentative, philosophical, etc.) or accidental (expressive, explicative, etc.). That said, let us suppose that in one’s use of “God,” the sentence in which it inheres is understood as a gateway term or through some other gateway term, ignoring, for the moment, the use of either term (supposing further, for the sake of simplicity, we are dealing with two simple terms). For instance, let us address the notion of a “private God.” That would be, at first glance, the notion that one’s God in some sense can only be understood by that person. Presumably, that person’s private experiences provide for that person a unique God which is barred off and inaccessible to other persons. The notion is better understood as one having a “personal relationship with Him.” For the most part, what a person means by this is that in some way, God interacts with persons (for, presumably, persons are God’s greatest creation), and furthermore, that God is interested and invested in each individual person’s unique and individuated affairs. But let us inspect this: for this notion of a “private God” to make sense at all, what must be understood is at least the concept of privacy. The word “privacy” either acts as a gateway for “God” to have sense or is understood through “God.” But in order for the word “private” to be understood, it must be interconnected with a lexicon, consisting of other words which themselves give “private” its sense. If we take “private” as the gateway term, “God” will only be understood once it is assimilated into the entirety of the language which gives “private” its sense. That language itself will consist of an infinite number of uses which correspond to the sentences in that language which, further, are composed of words with uses for the sentences in which they inhere.

Any set of words that contains “God” as a lexical unit is senseless; there is nothing cognitively asserted except what is imagined by the speaker. Each speaker’s imagination will be unique. Therefore, when a speaker (apologetic or antagonist, to any degree) utters a set of words which contains “God” as a lexical unit, nothing will be asserted except what is imagined by the speaker, and no speaker will imagine the same ideatum exactly. What must be address is this: Can speakers coherently express what is imagined at all? (Is “attending church” coherence? Is a social norm a manifestation of coherence?) Why can speakers utter propositions with inconsistent ideatums at all? (e.g. “My God is not your God”; etc.)

Asserting your stance of antagonism does not express what you are opposing, unless you suppose that everyone else knows exactly what it is you have for your ideatum.

Scholium 1

The “forgotten sculpture” refers to an ancient story of a sculptor who, as a young man, builds a magnificent marble statue. In his hurriedness and continued work, his sculpture becomes misplaced or dropped in a bush near his shop. Years later, the sculpture reveals itself to him at his feet as he’s entering his shop. Now, he knows that he crafted the object, that it was the expertise of his hands which brought it into existence. However, what he has forgotten is his inspiration, his emotional drive and feelings at the time of chiseling the muscles and fabric of the toga. He has forgotten the meaning behind the statue. He must derive a new meaning from what he sees, what he possesses at the moment. However, what of the emphatic connection he had with it long ago?

This is what “God” is. It is a forgotten concept. And in seeing this, who are we to reject or deny any other person’s statue? Who are we to even talk, as if it were important to us, about this man I have described and the emotional complexities he shares with his statue?

When we speak about God, we talk about another man’s perfection. There is no “private God”; that said, we must understand how this word “God” and its meaning fits into our language. To reject it by an outward expression of disbelief does nothing to help or hurt this endeavor. Describing yourself as being “of God’s people” does just the same. These activities of “defining oneself” do nothing fruitful, nothing worthy of comment.

But I suppose it is the absurdity of human suffering which compels us to act so naïvely, so immaturely.

expanded wing to sky
blends crushing gusts
into grimacing clouds;
our leathery scales resound

desperate whence our wings
echo nothing true but excess;
wise endings grasp the scent
of the falling we become