?

Log in

Hypomnemata [entries|friends|calendar]
Justified True Belief

[ website | SOS Acriticismo ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

Reflexão sobre palavras passadas [22 Jun 2009|11:01pm]
As palavras que se seguem são, ipsis verbis o resultado de um debate entre discípulo (eu) e professor que, a partir dos 17 anos, me definiram de forma instrumental. Passados tantos anos, e mudados tantos paradigmas, é hora de as relembrar e verificar o que se concretizou e o que ficou por concretizar.

Quase tudo no texto é figurado. Não existe uma "montanha": é meramente um símbolo.


You are not allowed to leave the mountain. The mountain is the hermitary you sought.

How do you plan to defend those people with your limited knowledge? After you have impressed your minds with the low, imperfect degrees of your current knowledge? How will you choose the faction that has achieved the alleged truth about the world we live in and its relations, and merely do its bidding?

If you want to effect change, you must choose a side that will lend you credibility. I have not bestowed the most solid and powerful principles of reasoning onto you so you would become the pawn of the men who seek limitless power, the power to manipulate the very fabric of our experiences. I have not taught you those principles so you could freely tarnish them. You can change nothing!

The troubles of the outside world are recurring. They stem from the current characteristics of human nature. Pay no heed to them.


And knowing that, am I to stand and do nothing and live in self-ordained ignorance? I can't ignore them! They need someone to wake them from the slumber of reason, which creates the most powerful dragons.

Critical thinking is the black ship that sails those seas. It is able to banish such dragons from existence, but the price may be high.

When your training is complete, your mind will become as strong as your words. The relations that underlie the world will become clear to you. You will learn of their transience. You will learn to look inward and collect the riches therein.


The persons who dwell in ignorance, the persons who suffer and die because of such ignorance cannot wait that long! Your words are worthless to them! While we discuss philosophy, people fall prey to people who can manipulate reality at will.

Go down there. Destroy their lives.

Stepping on other people's dreams is the only art a philosopher can master. No ornamental words can change that fundamental fact. You want to protect people with Truth? You'll disenchant hundreds so that they become aware of such useless truths. Long before you were aware of yourself, my arguments were tearing asunder the lives of men. Yes, those men were ignorant. But they were human beings, first and foremost. No one commits evil willingly: it is a product of ignorance.

The world you are about to enter will not know what to do with you! It will deceive you and lead you astray. You will become a pawn to people and groups who advocate Truth. You will exert your supposed duty to enlighten when you have not become enlightened yourself. You will end as a worthless puppet, whose mind has been shattered. Confused, you will seek refuge in sweet alienation, that is akin to death. All the while, your hands and your mind will be stained with the worst of offenses: ignorance.

Even if you side with no one, you will be dealt the fate of the outcast. You will suffer their rejection, and their foul words and stares. You will be seen as nothing more than a foul anthropod, and there is nothing romantic about it. Your mind will soon know pain as your social programming resurfaces.


Perhaps. Even so, my words will bring relief to people who have never left the cave you've spoken of so many years ago. Of people who have not basked in the supposed sun you've mentioned. A human being who feeds on his brother is not a man anymore: he is a mad beast, and should be dealt the same fate. My wish is to rescue those minds, countless minds from the depths of that cave, from the hold of those dragons of reason, who keep them captive. In order to do so, I must leave!



It is foolish to impart those lessons to someone who will not heed them. Go wherever you wish to go.
5 comments|post comment

Cumprem-se 200 anos sobre o nascimento de Darwin [15 Feb 2009|05:50pm]
Cumprem-se, assim, dois séculos sobre o nascimento do naturalista inglês que revolucionou a ciência biológica, que arrastou o homem do plano divino para o plano do natural, para o papel relutante de animal, descendendo de um ancestral comum a tantos outros seres que temos o hábito de considerar como meras atracções de Zoológico. Para comemorar o evento, decidi escrever uma pequena série de ensaios no projecto Contraforte.

Índice aqui.

O índice será actualizado à medida que novos artigos forem adicionados.

post comment

[02 Feb 2009|06:31pm]
I am not afraid to die.
1 comment|post comment

Sábado [26 Oct 2008|10:15pm]
Foi um bom Sábado. Encontrar um dos meus companheiros de debate, comprar mais um livro, tomar café e depois partir rumo ao Culturgest Londres para assistir a um documentário, o The Way of the Warrior. Vale a pena ver, e suscitou alguma discussão aprofundada sobre as várias temáticas que o filme cobre, assim como sobre vários comentários dos intervenientes, que apesar de parecerem acessórios, se revestem de grande importância para como vivemos a nossa vida, e como interagimos com os que nos rodeiam, e sob que critérios os julgamos.
8 comments|post comment

Viagens [19 Oct 2008|05:51pm]
Pelos vastos bosques da minha mente, pelos vastos arquivos da memória. Olho para cima, e as nuvens acumulam-se, formando colossos, montanhas que se erguem para lá do campo de visão. O Sol matinal brilha, docemente, por detrás delas. Não oiço a bela canção de Apolo, mas sinto a sua presença pelos campos que se desenham suavemente à minha volta. As planícies verdejantes tomam forma, agregando-se pequenas partículas de matéria. A sua impermanência, a primeira aparição da manhã. Quero escolher um caminho, o passado é o rumo estabelecido. A última vez que estivemos juntos, perdeu-se num dos sombrios e confusos arquivos. Mnemosine, a bibliotecária da memória, corre em meu auxílio. Setecentos e setenta segundos no passado, perco-os. A paisagem transforma-se: a substância de que são feitos os sonhos é altamente moldável. Transforma-se sem qualquer esforço, desenha-se um lago de águas límpidas e calmas, árvores cujos ramos crescem para tocar o céu. É noite. A Lua brilha, e as estrelas pontilham o céu. A linha do horizonte ganha consistência, os meus sentidos informam-me que é este o local. Quantos segundos? Poderia passar aqui o resto da minha vida, prisioneiro de Mnemosine. Privar-me de qualquer estímulo sensorial: deixar os meus olhos cegar e os ouvidos ensurdecer. Tudo o que preciso vive aqui, no intervalo que separa cada pequena unidade neuronal, que me trazem, docemente, os cenários que apenas podem ser vistos com os olhos da mente. Naqueles dias...há saudade, há nostalgia. E tudo se precipita ao meu redor, depressa. É uma rua solitária. Perco mais sentecentos e setenta segundos do meu passado recente, doce amnésia. O ruído branco invade agora os meus sentidos. Sei que devo subir. E subo, a velha escadaria, que geme e range, queixando-se. Tropeço num comboio de brincar. É uma tarde de outono, o quarto está cheio de folhas amareladas. Vejo a menina que já não existe, e passeio pelos outonos. Os outonos, de chuva mansa e nuvens cinzentas, e de tardes doiradas. Tudo se volta a transformar, com a plasticidade inerente das paisagens oníricas. É uma clareira. Sim, reconheço-a e ofereço mais setecentos e setenta segundos do meu passado recente. Quando se foram as vozes que antigamente ecoavam nesta clareira? Há muito, muito tempo. É Inverno. As razões para ir são suficientes. Uma tempestade destruiu esta frágil casa. Duas metades de uma linha divisória, que se desenha até ao infinito. Ruínas, e toda a cidade está contra nós. Foge! Foge para a Estação. Os corações que viajam, perdem-se e não querem voltar. Mas, para baterem, terão de voltar. Estes locais são, agora, apenas ruínas.
10 comments|post comment

Hector's final hour [18 Oct 2008|09:46pm]
Here inside the walls of Troy
The gods weigh my fate
From this bay, do I abstain
To a memory of hate
To pay for all the blood that spilled
The many thousands I did kill
No walls can contain the god's almighty will

I hear the silent voices, I cannot hide!
The gods leave no choices, so we all must die!
Oh, Achilles!
Let thy arrows fly
Into the wind, where eagles cross the sky
Today my mortal blood will mix with sand.
It was foretold: I will die by thy hand
Into Hades my soul descend.

post comment

Aqui é o lugar onde a morte se deleita em ajudar os vivos [16 Oct 2008|10:16pm]
"Hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae"
5 comments|post comment

[26 Sep 2008|08:56pm]
But if I had confessions, I'd have concessions.
1 comment|post comment

Das despedidas [28 Aug 2008|02:22am]

( A antiga fachada da Centraal Station Rotterdam)

Rotterdam Centraal - Brussel Centraal/Bruxelles Central - Lisboa

Fly away to a rainbow in the sky
Gold is at the end
For each of us to find
There the road begins
Where another one will end
Here the four winds know
Who will break and who will bend
All to be the master of the wind




Hell yeah!

3 comments|post comment

[22 Aug 2008|04:12pm]
Pequena recomendação, via anamnese

http://butterpig.net63.net/index.html

Muito bem conseguido, pelo que vale a pena espreitar.
3 comments|post comment

Dos regressos [05 Aug 2008|03:37am]


Querida Lisboa,

Perdoa-me toda a ausência que se prolongou por meses infindáveis. Após exactamente dois anos, estarei de volta aos teus braços. Para ficar.
14 comments|post comment

Darwinismo Social I [03 Aug 2008|12:51am]


Acho que estou no fundo da cadeia alimentar social. Tal, só por si, não deveria ser mau.
3 comments|post comment

Utilitarismo a P. II [01 Aug 2008|02:33am]
Jeremy Bentham também desenvolveu uma mnemónica para que o hedonista ético mantenha no seu espírito os princípios pelos quais o cálculo deve ser efectuado.

Intense, long, certain, speedy, fruitful, pure -
Such marks in pleasures and in pains endure.
Such pleasures seek if private be thy end:
If it be public, wide let them extend.
Such pains avoid, whichever be thy view:
If pains must come, let them extend to few.
2 comments|post comment

Utilitarismo a P. [31 Jul 2008|07:42pm]
Sabendo que a caríssima não busca mais que todo o prazer adquirível em todas as ocasiões, explorando em pleno o potencial de cada situação que se apresenta e gerindo sabiamente os prazeres de modo a que estes não se transformem em dor no futuro, creio que seja benéfico encontrar-se em posse de um algoritmo que poderá formalizar o seu apurado instinto. É minha convicção que colocará sob bom uso as informações que aqui disponibilizo. Assim, vejamos;

O cálculo hedónico (felicific calculus) é um algoritmo desenvolvido por Jeremy Bentham, grande campeão do utilitarismo, que tem por fim determinar a quantidade de prazer que cada acção poderá causar. Uma vez que cada acção individual causa mudanças em várias esferas ou dimensões da realidade, é necessário tomar em conta as mudanças que poderão ocorrer e estabelecer um saldo hedónico positivo. São as dimensões/variáveis as seguintes:

Intensidade: Quão intenso é o prazer?
Duração: Quão longo será?
Certeza ou Incerteza: Quão provável ou improvável é o acontecimento deste prazer?
Proximidade ou Distância: Quão cedo ocorrerá o prazer descrito?
Fecundidade: A probabilidade do acontecimento de uma acção do mesmo género enquanto efeito da acção mencionada.
Pureza: A probabilidade desta acção não ser seguida de sensações de carácter oposto.
Extensão: Quantas pessoas serão afectadas?

Toma em consideração o seguinte:

- O valor de cada prazer distinto  que aparenta ser fruto da tua acção no primeiro instante.
- O valor de cada dor distinta que aparenta ser fruto da tua acção no primeiro instante.
- O valor de cada prazer que aparenta ter sido produzido pela tua acção após o primeiro instante.
- O valor de cada dor que aparenta ter sido produzida pela tua acção após o primeiro instante.

Soma os prazeres e as dores. Um acto bom será aquele cujo valor de prazer é maior que o valor da dor.

Cara e amada P., espero que isto te sirva para melhor te colocares em serviço do hedonismo, e que ambas as partes (tu e o hedonismo) lucrem espiritualmente. Bonne chance, ma petite.
16 comments|post comment

A dúvida sobre a existência [30 Jul 2008|11:47pm]
Eu penso, eu existo. Chove.

A primeira proposição é um dos grandes momentos da filosofia. O segundo é um acto banal que, apesar do calor infernal que se faz sentir no momento que corre, marca o nosso dia-a-dia.

Onde é que está o eu em "Eu penso, eu existo"? Que algo que tem a propriedade de pensar existe, é algo que é claramente evidente. Mas será que se segue que exista um eu? Talvez ocorra pensamento, tal como chove. Chove. Impessoal.
4 comments|post comment

Do que concerne a sermos, sem sombra de dúvida [29 Jul 2008|04:38am]
"Ac proinde hæc cognitio, ego cogito, ergo sum, est omnium prima & certissima, quæ cuilibet ordine philosophanti occurrat."

Portanto, o conhecimento de que eu penso, eu sou é o primeiro e o mais certo dos factos a que alguém chegará se filosofar de acordo com a ordem correcta.

Descartes, Princípios da Filosofia

"Si […] fallor, sum"

Se me engano, sou.

Santo Agostinho, A Cidade de Deus
post comment

One way. Many ways. [29 Jul 2008|12:20am]
How many ways does an egg have to be pristine, unspoiled?

How many ways does an egg have to be broken, shattered to pieces?

One. Many.

That's time. We experience time as a continuous flow of events. But time is not a continuous flow of events. It's just the difference between a whole, pristine egg and a shattered egg that lies in the floor, it's liquid content leaking out and spreading on the floor.

Entropy, that's the name,
post comment

Nuvens sobrepostas em forma de montanhas [28 Jul 2008|09:53pm]
I've already noticed that my life is made of cycles played by people who come, build rapport and establish a nice, somehow fulfilling relationship with me, and then leave. Some of them leave never to be seen again, while others come back occasionally. And yet, I have to wonder why nobody decides to stay. For a little longer. Maybe I am some sort of illusion which appears bright and shiny on the surface, and then is found to be ugly like a piece of coal. Because, coal and diamonds are pretty much the same: they differ only in the way individual atoms are arranged. But coal, unlike diamonds, leave the hands dirty, and though it is useful (it can be exploited to produce energy), that's about it.

Coal is ugly. You make great use from it.

But what I really like is piled clouds in the shape of mountains.
9 comments|post comment

Ultimate Fate of... [28 Jul 2008|01:53am]
I've read most of what many of the most reputed cosmologists and physicists had to say about the ultimate fate. The ultimate fate of the Universe. Can we know the ultimate fate of something we don't really know? Those are questions that still present themselves wrapped in sheer doubt, epistemological questions that seem so removed from our daily lives. And it is about daily life that I wanted to talk about. I can't understand why I tend to drift off towards other questions, or why I intertwine them with the big questions that will remain to be answered even after I, and you dear reader, have become but mere dust, a collection of simple particles that have had their origin far in a point of time when time wasn't really time.

Thinking about the timeless questions can lead to a much higher tolerance level of daily life, personal misery. I, my humble self, can vouch for this. Small questions, but that need to be addressed become but mere echoes. But if unattended, they will prevent you from thinking at all. An eye in reality, and another eye in the realm of ideas is not enough. More than in any other age of human history, reality bites. It's not only the feudal lord or the black plague: the world chases after itself. Society has harnessed the atom and flight, electricity and piped water supply, and has never set aside a place for dreamers. Parasitic, expendable, that's the adjectives used to describe us and our endless pursuit of something that is not palpable.

The question remains, whether those adjectives plausibly apply to us. What we seek does not yield profit. It yields material losses. The body needs sustenance, and the mind requires much of our carbohydrate and oxygen intake. And even though we are known to neglect our physical hygiene (and lo, mental hygiene fares no better), I like to keep it to a minimum. Thus, we require the other benefits that the shelter of civilization provides: a nice shower.

Those are considerations that appear to be removed from our daily lives. They seem to aim at a higher point, a resonating conclusion plausibly supported by two or more premises. It does not. It has direct rapport with my personal situation. I'll be moving in to hell. That's a semantic placeholder for "mother's home". The familial hearth is often invoked, in our minds, as a concept that brings back memories of comfort, sweetness and shelter, the conflict of the baroque, confuse and determining teen years and early adulthood. Motherly love is, no doubt, the most comforting and immovable that there is among the countless varieties of love. I shall not dilate on this subject, for it is not my point.

Familial hearth is not love. Familial hearth is a web of intrigue, hate, resentment, blackmailing and psychological toying. Not to include the garden-variety events that are the hallmark of all troubled families.

Time stops.

But you can't stop time. It has begun some billion years ago, and it'll probably stop in a googol years. Not google. Googol. Googol is

1.0 × 10100


I'm sure you know that's a lot of zeroes, more than would be healthy to expound here. I don't know what will happen when time stops. There will be no matter. That's right: every matter that composes you will decay and you'll be gone in a wisp of...something. Well, time has not come to an end, to me. But it is pretty much standing still.

I don't like to work. Who does? But wait. I have a visceral hate for work. I am anti-work. You've heard it. I don't like working. "Parasite", I can hear you say. But no, no, that's wrong. I am anti-work, and I espouse the idea that everyone should have time to play and love what they are doing. If there's something that both Capitalists and Marxists agree is that work is good and stands at the foundation of society. I don't think everyone should just lay down and sip orange juice and other exquisite beverages all day long, but I agree that our system of labour/value must be revised in order to allow LEISURE. Leisure is important. Leisure if the craddle of happiness and ideas. Leisure is what allowed the ideals that the western world tentatively espouses to be born, in Greece (the greeks were quite lesurely, while their prized slaves performed all the hard work).

What's the conclusion to this amalgam of loose paragraphs? Well, none. Just as we've not concluded much about the shape of the Universe, and hence, its ultimate fate. The practical conclusion: Oh, my life is miserable.

It took me all those paragraphs just to whine.
post comment

Sundays [25 May 2008|02:42pm]
Sunday. It's not the case that Sundays are boring. They just go by too quickly. I like Sundays, sunny, long Sundays. But today is a cloudy Sunday, and Monday's just 'round the corner. Which means going back to work. So, despite having waken up at noon, and now being 14:44, I've done nothing so far. Well, I think I'll catch up on some readings concerning philosophy of law. And maybe watch some Bamboo Blade. I've watched Samurai 7 for the last three days: great storyline, amazing OST.

I've been writing some introductory stuff on political authority and the State. Mainly dabbling on what is it all about, how can the State be justified, and from what sources it draws its alleged legitimacy. I want to write a historical account of the State as we know it, and on how it came to replace tribal societies. And on how it evolved through the fragmentation of power that is the hallmark of the medieval period, with vassals holding almost absolute power over their domains. But, oh, for most of my readers, this is utterly boring stuff. Nobody really cares anymore why the State holds power, and for what purposes. Everything is taken for granted, as long as one is protected from foreign invasion, internal turmoil, etc.

I feel I also have to catch up on my Igo games. Yes, I've begun recently and with the recent turmoil on my life, I've lost the motivation and the concentration needed to follow such a demanding intellectual activity. I've been teaching someone as of recently, and I think it sparked my interest once again.

I'd also like to restart writing here, as time and patience allow.
3 comments|post comment

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]