Perhaps one response to this is to transform the question from 'what transformations can't we think?' to: 'what transformations can't we live?'. This, perhaps, is what gets to the heart of what Cavell takes from Wittgenstein: at the end of the day, of course we can say - and think - if we want, with all abandon, that houses can turn into flowers. We can think this. We do think this, insfoar as we do (a tautology). We say it: houses can turn into flowers. But can we 'live' this? To say this, and perhaps more importantly, sustain it's 'saying', is to have to transform how we relate to houses and flowers, insofar as we live those relations. This is why, I think, when Cavell asks the question, he immediately turns to questions not 'immediately' related to houses and flowers, but to questions about 'growing' and 'gardens' and 'seeds' and 'stones':
"What would "houses" or "flowers" mean in the language of such a world? What would be the difference between (what we call) stones and seeds? Where would we live in that world, and what would we grow in our gardens? And what would "grow" mean?"
I think the 'style' of questions here are significant, and they remind of Deleuze's dictum to not ask 'what is?', but "who?, how much?, how?, where?, when?": Cavell's questions are in this vein, it seems to me. Even when they ask 'what', they are not 'what is?' but 'what would we grow?' and 'what's the difference?', questions that bear on relations and their significance, on how we relate, how we live with our ways of speaking, and how ours ways of speaking (and thinking) and embedded in ours ways of living.
Another way to put this is that the question 'do houses turn into flowers?' cannot just be about houses and flowers: it's also a question about growing, about gardens, about stones and seeds, all of which it carries in tow like an umbra which is easily missed if one doesn't make sure to pay attention to it. So to bring this all back to transcendentality: would it answer your concern to say that the 'missing bridge' between 'deep transcendentally' and 'local transcendentality' is just us? — StreetlightX
a gathered field. — Joshs
It's how people ordinarily talk. This can be observed, and most of us pick it up to the extent that by our age, it is easily identifiable. We know that we don't ordinarily talk of existence in a way which leads to seemingly absurd consequences, like that the Empire State building doesn't exist. — S
I write and mean something right now, right this moment. Except that now that I refer back to it , it has changed. No center. Yet there is a way of belonging to a thematic without there being a center . There is relative, differential belonging which is changing itself in an ongoing manner ,yet in ways that allows relative consistency. Thus we have at the same timer difference and continuity. And my claims to 'no center' are self-reflexive. They have built into them this consistent- changing rubric. So it is perfectly possible to articulate a notion of transformative that carries along with it relative stability and have this built right into our discourse about it. This is, after all, how meaning operates anyway. — Joshs
But I think what I want to say that local conditions of sense are already this 'deeper' sense of transcendentality; or that the deep manifests itself in the local, and only as the local. So in this sense one can speak of something like a 'transcendental empiricism' in the vein of Deleuze: in which the transcendental is manifest at the level of the empirical, without collapsing into it. Or: the two senses of the transcendental can't be - should not be - treated as separate. — StreetlightX
In various writings Derrida deconstructs the notion of structure. He argues that structure
implies center, and at the center, transformation of elements is forbidden. But he says in
fact there is no center, just the desire for center. If there is no center, there is no such
singular thing as structure, only the decentering thinking of the structurality of structure.
“Henceforth, it was necessary to begin thinking that there was no center, that the center
could not be thought in the form of a present-being, that the center had no natural site, that
it was not a fixed locus but a function, a sort of non-locus in which an infinite number of
sign-substitutions came into play. This was the moment when language invaded the
universal problematic, the moment when, in the absence of a center or origin, everything
became discourse-provided we can agree on this word-that is to say, a system in which the
central signified, the original or transcendental signified, is never absolutely present outside
a system of differences. — Joshs
And as I also mentioned to Banno, this kind of question finds its lineage in Hume on induction (maybe the sun won't rise tomorrow), and in Kant on knowledge more generally (the cinnabar that turns red and black and light by turns); More recently in Meillassoux on radical contingency (physical law might and can change at any point, for no reason whatsoever). — StreetlightX
(1) Unwatered seeds do not turn into flowers.
(2) Acorns do not turn into flowers.
(3) Houses do not turn into flowers
. There are certainly regions, modalities, groupings to be pointed to, with associated normative features, but when it comes to the 'between regions' , I don't Heidegger or Derrida as wanting to accord any special relevance to this in-between such as to imply a centeredness to normative conventions. — Joshs
I'm in good company then. :grin: I often enough feel the same way, but haven't been able to find a stringent argument for it. — javra
Just add in “mystical unquantifiable mix of the two” of you want. I’ll allow it. — schopenhauer1
Given that actualizing nothingness is a metaphysical impossibility, I’d say that the quote-unquote mission is there because there is no other way—metaphysical or otherwise—of alleviating existential suffering at large than via increased understanding. — javra
I don't know, what if I said I predicted you were going to make a post defending nothingness instead of experience?What if I said I predicted this idea was going to be brought forward? — schopenhauer1
I disagree that that's why it was in quotes. The way one differentiates between mental and physical illness is simply to use the word "mental" or "physical." The reason mental illness was put in quotes was to question whether there really was such a thing. — Hanover
I have sympathy for your personal experiences, but this comment seems to admit to the two things I was arguing for (1) that there is such a thing as mental illness, and (2) psychologists can and do help. Your complaint seems to be that you were burdened with some really bad therapists, but if you're acknowledging there is such a thing as good therapy, then the failure is in systematizing it so that it can be predictably available to everyone. — Hanover
All I'll say is that I what I'm arguing for can accommodate this (as I've already acknowledged!), and, that this is not an example of reading meaning off physics. — StreetlightX
So a few people now have mentioned 'physics' - as though 'physics' could tell us what we call houses and what we call flowers; but this of course is a silly idea, as though one could read our language 'off' the physical characteristics of the world. As though a kind of pre-established harmony existed between word and thing. How ironic that those who speak of physics are theologians in disguise. What is missed is language - human language, and what we do with it. — StreetlightX
It's a matter - or at least, this is how I read what you're bringing up - of bringing history and 'materiality' back into the fold: what are the singularities of the situation that we need to pay attention to; the inflexion points, the points of instablity or opportunity or pain (in this time and in this space) which can be exploited or brought into play such that something new (= new meaning, new significance) can be introduced (in the most pragmatic(?) way). — Sx
Why is mental illness in quotes? Does it not really exist? — Hanover
And what do you base your suggestion that the majority in the mental health field reject, disrespect, ignore, and refuse to support their patients? — Hanover, just before posting a pic of James Holmes as a trump card
Restraint seems to be a value in political correctness - "Gasp! You can't say that! No! You can't do that!" - but I question such a value. Sometimes I just think, "No, fuck that". — S
I think that discussion probably really only meant to be a criticism of weaponising psychology. We all do that here to some extent, even those arrogant and deluded enough to think of themselves as innocent, whilst thinking of someone like me as a villain. I think that the author of that discussion confused frankness for malice. That happens to me a lot, because I'm very blunt, and funnily enough some people react emotionally to that. — S
See, this seems very productive to me. And yet we see people fighting against this sort of discussion, against taking a psychological angle. — S
It irks me that people advocate what seems to me to be so wrong, and I am driven to correct it, even if I am destined never to convince anyone — S
And I'm not arguing against them because I'm arguing for someone else, I'm arguing against them because I'm arguing in favour of the truth, as I see it, and for no other reason. — S
If this doesn't matter, then why aren't we all solipsists? — S
But no, you really mean that houses turn into flowers. After a moment of shock, assuming you're not joshing me, I realize I no longer know what counts as a house; nor a flower. The world in which these terms took on their significance has been totally upended for me. Note that something has shifted massively between the first and second 'receptions' of the claim 'houses turn into flowers'. The 'metaphorical reception' 'fits' into the world I know: I still know, despite the metaphorical use, what here counts as a flower and house. The literal reception throws that all out of what: what counts any more as a house or a flower? I'm no longer sure, the grammar of my concepts needs to be revised; what kind of thing(s) I say about houses and flowers needs to be revised. — StreetlightX
But I didn't ask you to spell everything out. I asked you quite specifically about what force of necessity the distinction you've drawn has. What motivates it? Why this distinction, and not any other of the rather fanciful ones I came up with? — StreetlightX
It's this distinction, rather than others, because a bunch of people came up with the philosophy of idealism — S
Hebrew poetry reminds me a little of 12-bar blues: repetition and resolution. Maybe that's a leftover from oral transmission? — frank
All that is distinctive of the Hungarian experience – the shock of the Treaty of Trianon, which divided the Hungarian people from each other, the distinctive culture of a land-locked country in which a large population of Roma has never properly settled, the still present record of the country's struggle against Islamic domination – all this too has been ignored. — Scruton
Nationalism is an ideological attempt to supplant customary and neighbourly loyalties with something more like a religious loyalty – a loyalty based on doctrine and commitment. Ordinary national loyalty, by contrast, is the by-product of settlement. It comes about because people have ways of resolving their disputes, ways of getting together, ways of cooperating, ways of celebrating and worshipping that seal the bond between them without ever making that bond explicit as a doctrine.
For there is no alternative to nationality. If the government in Budapest is to enjoy legitimacy, that legitimacy must come from below, from the people whose unity and identity is expressed in the workings of government. This legitimacy must be inherited by each government, whether right or left, whether minority or majority. It must not be a loyalty of cliques, or a reprimand to the peasantry issued by the intellectuals of Budapest, or an edict issued by the true Hungarians in the villages against the traitors in the city.