| Which philosopher are you? Your Result: W.v.O. Quine / Late Wittgenstein There is no provable absolute truth. The way you see things is dependant on your language. Truths exist only within a language, and change as the language does. | |
| Sartre/Camus (late existentialists) | |
| Nietzsche | |
| Early Wittgenstein / Positivists | |
| Immanuel Kant | |
| Aristotle | |
| Plato (strict rationalists) | |
| Which philosopher are you? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz | |
A chronicle of nose growth
'...changing the form of one's mission's almost as difficult as changing the shape of one's nose:
they are, each, in the middle of one's face and one's character - one has to begin too far back.'
― Henry James. The Portrait of a Lady.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
More philosophy tests
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Friday, January 9, 2009
With a couple of good friends coming back from overseas, I had the chance for a few heart-to-heart sessions. One thing that bugs me after I walk away from them is the odd feeling that I might not have been telling the truth. The thing about discussing one's feelings is that they're so apt to change and so hard to pinpoint that you can find yourself agreeing or claiming something that seems true at the time, but in retrospect wouldn't be something you would actually think of as true on your own. Truth is so finicky sometimes.
In the process of teasing words out of feelings and thoughts, you can manufacture sentiments that don't actually exist or find yourself saying things about people (whether yourself or others) that you might not otherwise say. For lack of a better way to say this is an expression I frequently find myself using to express half-baked thoughts in a rather skewed manner. At best, what you end up saying contains connotations you didn't at first intend. Whether it's because of a subconscious imperative to impress the listener, or a rather conscious attempt to skirt issues you feel are taboo, you can end up saying things that somehow grow progressively further from the truth as you keep up the discussion.
The worst part of it is, you may not even realise it. You think what you're saying is true, until several days, or weeks, or months later, when the issue comes up again, and you find yourself saying something completely different to someone else.
The world of emotions and opinions seems to slide between truth and untruth as (for lack of a less cliched to say this) water of a duck's back (from one metaphorical duck to another, I suppose). So much so that I often find myself questioning the value of the evaluation of truthfulness.
I guess I'm just not a very honest person. Then again, maybe I'm not dishonest. Just paradoxical. Periodically paradoxical.
In the process of teasing words out of feelings and thoughts, you can manufacture sentiments that don't actually exist or find yourself saying things about people (whether yourself or others) that you might not otherwise say. For lack of a better way to say this is an expression I frequently find myself using to express half-baked thoughts in a rather skewed manner. At best, what you end up saying contains connotations you didn't at first intend. Whether it's because of a subconscious imperative to impress the listener, or a rather conscious attempt to skirt issues you feel are taboo, you can end up saying things that somehow grow progressively further from the truth as you keep up the discussion.
The worst part of it is, you may not even realise it. You think what you're saying is true, until several days, or weeks, or months later, when the issue comes up again, and you find yourself saying something completely different to someone else.
The world of emotions and opinions seems to slide between truth and untruth as (for lack of a less cliched to say this) water of a duck's back (from one metaphorical duck to another, I suppose). So much so that I often find myself questioning the value of the evaluation of truthfulness.
I guess I'm just not a very honest person. Then again, maybe I'm not dishonest. Just paradoxical. Periodically paradoxical.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Unending beginning
I feel like I've hurtled into the new year the way a speeding car goes round a blind corner. One (figurative) minute it was 2008, the next it was '09. Perhaps it was because the new year started on a Thursday. Not properly the beginning of a week, or the end, but the day that rushes into the weekend.
Whatever the case, somehow I now find myself a few days into 2009 not quite knowing what hit me and trying to regain my bearings after a bevvy of church and social activities, a wedding, and a concert. Phew! But all the same, if the rest of this year follows the same way, I think I shall quite enjoy the (rather surreal) experience of scenery rushing by me. The only thing is, I fear I have already broken my resolutions before I've even had a chance to take a breather and make them properly.
Perhaps it's because of the manner in which I have hurtled into this year, or the fact that I'm aging significantly, but I no longer feel the sense of rejuvenating new-ness that I used to when a new year heralded. Although theoretically it should be a year of changes and sparkling potential, things of the past remain like the stubborn stains that ingrain themselves onto the insides of mugs. Tea stains, coffee stains, and soup stains; I've all but given up trying to rinse them away. The same old struggles continue to plague me, and the same bittersweet aftertaste remains from drinking of it. My cup is my cup, and I'm not really averse to it being a bit old after a couple decades use.
All in all, I feel older and more tired, yet stronger and more wiry. Somewhere between cynicism and naivete, self-consciousness and laissez faire. Not quite ready for novelty, but not opposed to it either, insides still churning from the sharp direction change as I've rounded the corner of 2008.
Whatever the case, somehow I now find myself a few days into 2009 not quite knowing what hit me and trying to regain my bearings after a bevvy of church and social activities, a wedding, and a concert. Phew! But all the same, if the rest of this year follows the same way, I think I shall quite enjoy the (rather surreal) experience of scenery rushing by me. The only thing is, I fear I have already broken my resolutions before I've even had a chance to take a breather and make them properly.
Perhaps it's because of the manner in which I have hurtled into this year, or the fact that I'm aging significantly, but I no longer feel the sense of rejuvenating new-ness that I used to when a new year heralded. Although theoretically it should be a year of changes and sparkling potential, things of the past remain like the stubborn stains that ingrain themselves onto the insides of mugs. Tea stains, coffee stains, and soup stains; I've all but given up trying to rinse them away. The same old struggles continue to plague me, and the same bittersweet aftertaste remains from drinking of it. My cup is my cup, and I'm not really averse to it being a bit old after a couple decades use.
All in all, I feel older and more tired, yet stronger and more wiry. Somewhere between cynicism and naivete, self-consciousness and laissez faire. Not quite ready for novelty, but not opposed to it either, insides still churning from the sharp direction change as I've rounded the corner of 2008.
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