Twilight of the Idols, Phajaan of the Humans

"To call the taming of an animal its "improvement" sounds almost like a joke to our ears. Whoever knows what goes on in kennels doubts that dogs are "improved" there. They are weakened, they are made less harmful, and through the depressive effect of fear, through pain, through wounds, and through hunger, they become sickly beasts. It is no different with the tamed man whom the priest has "improved." In the early Middle Ages, when the church was indeed, above all, a kennel, the most perfect specimens of the "blond beast" were hunted down everywhere; and the noble Teutons, for example, were "improved." But how did such an "improved" Teuton look after he had been drawn into a monastery? Like a caricature of man, a miscarriage: he had become a "sinner," he was stuck in a cage, tormented with all sorts of painful concepts. And there he lay, sick, miserable, hateful to himself, full of evil feelings against the impulses of his own life, full of suspicion against all that was still strong and happy. In short, a "Christian."

"Physiologically speaking: in the struggle with beasts, making them sick may be the only way to make them weak. The church understood this: it sickened and weakened man — and by so doing "improved" him."

--Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols

One of the nice things about meeting back up with my friend was it turned out he had brought with him a copy of The Portable Nietzsche, the same copy, in fact, that I had given to him a year or so ago to keep him company in Japan (along with Crime and Punishment, which he quite enjoyed). He told me he hadn't read any of it, but as I didn't have a book, I was able to while away some of the time on buses and such reading through The Antichrist and (re-)reading through Twilight of the Idols. As much as Walter Kaufmann makes of Nietzsche's 'insanity' at the time of his writing of The Antichrist, I believe it to be a powerful critique of Christianity and the rather demeaning effect that it has on the human spirit.

When I read the above quote, I thought about the Phajaan ceremony that goes on in Thailand. Phajaan is loosely translated as 'elephant crushing', and is basically what all elephants have to go through in order to be the servants to mankind that you see during many tourist ventures in Southeast Asia.

But then it is rather interesting that this 'torture' to crush the spirit of an elephant in order that the elephant will do the bidding of their captors is not seen in a more similar light to a lot of the ways in which religion (especially Western religion) has resulted in the 'improvement' of people the world over: improvement in the form of docility, being open to suggestion, and, in general, as Dennett once said, "a gold-plated excuse to stop thinking".

Just like the elephants, they are trained to no longer fight back against conflicting ideologies. The elephant wants to stay with its mother, it wants to eat, drink, and be able to roam free, etc. On the other hand, isn't this what the human wants as well? Or is it simply the fact that the elephant is not conscious of its own metaphysical position in the cosmos and therefore has no idea of the ease and automation with which its post-Phajaan life will be.

No more decision-making, just follow your master. What could be simpler?

Trinkets, Baubles, and Good Luck

On Thursday I was standing in line at the Pick n' Pay deli waiting to order some food. I had just finished talking to a friend of mine who happened to be at the front of the same line I was in, when I heard something fall onto the floor. I thought I had dropped something, but it turned out that after just over 8 months, the strings of the bracelet I had been given by some random in Chandigarh some time during the second week of September had finally broken.

When I had joined my friend in Chandigarh after a hold-up of an extra night in Bombay when I was told that three weeks after I had booked my flight from Bombay to Chandigarh, Kingfisher had canceled the route due to lack of demand, and now I would have to fly the next morning via Delhi (those this was replacement was provided to me at no charge). Anyway, when I arrived, my friend was hanging with an Aussie gal that he had met in Manali, and we spent a couple of days in Chandigarh before heading back to Himachal Pradesh. During that time, we met a local gal from India who gave us her contact number, and the next day we met up with her she had bought us all little trinkets that were symbols of friendship. I forget what the Aussie gal got, but my friend got a neon rubber wristband, kind of like the Lance Armstrong 'Livestrong' bands, but instead it said 'Be my friend'; and then I get a wristband with five stones of a brown and white mixed colour tied together with strings. At first I thought, 'what am I supposed to do with this? This sort of thing really isn't my thing', but I tied it on anyway, and I hadn't removed it since. Not for sleeping, not for showering, not for playing sports, nothing. But in the last month or so, I saw that the strings had started to really fray and knew that it would be only a matter of time before it snapped off.

But it got me thinking, what is it that I will miss by not having this bracelet on? And then I got to thinking where the whole notion of lucky coins and rabbit's feet and who knows what else endows us with some notion of luck. Is seems like the reality of the situation is something akin to 'the magic feather' in the Disney's Dumbo, which the mouse uses as a psychological trick to convince Dumbo that he can fly. At a later time during one of the stunts, Dumbo loses the magic feather, but the mouse is able to convince him that it actually has nothing to do with the feather at all. It's simply to do with ability.

So how is it that we attribute our good fortune to the possession or lack thereof of some trinket? A lot of it is, of course, simply down to psychology. It is a sort of 'crutch' to give us confidence when we need it, and provide us with a means to exonerate us of responsibility if/when we fail. In a way, it works sort of like a horoscope. If you're horoscope is good, you will face the day with a positive outlook and try to make stuff happen, giving the best chance to get results. If your horoscope is not so good, you may end up approaching it as such and missing opportunities or rejecting them out of a certain amount of pessimism. However, as far as I know, most studies claim that if we lived our lives outside of knowledge of horoscopes, our success/fail rate would be pretty close to the good day/bad day rate that our corresponding horoscopes would give us. But then again, I can't really say for certain that the manner in which the stars interact has some bearing on the manner in which we function. However, given that the night sky is simply a projection of 3-dimensional space onto a 2-dimensional canvas, and the patterns between stars are based on our unique vantage point rather than anything else, and the fact that most forces have no real bearing on such large distances makes me think otherwise.

Let us take the case of the 'Bermuda Triangle', supposedly a place where accidents constantly occurred, and many vessels 'disappeared without a trace', leading people to speak of everything from violent storms to alien abductions. But, according to wiki,

"Documented evidence indicates that a significant percentage of the incidents were inaccurately reported or embellished by later authors, and numerous official agencies have stated that the number and nature of disappearances in the region is similar to that in any other area of ocean."

For example,

"When the UK Channel 4 television program "The Bermuda Triangle" (c. 1992) was being produced by John Simmons of Geofilms for the Equinox series, the marine insurer Lloyd's of London was asked if an unusually large number of ships had sunk in the Bermuda Triangle area. Lloyd's of London determined that large numbers of ships had not sunk there. United States Coast Guard records confirm their conclusion. In fact, the number of supposed disappearances is relatively insignificant considering the number of ships and aircraft that pass through on a regular basis."

It is at the basis of a common misconception which is various much related to the placebo effect: too often the events and evidence to back up our claims is more readily available because we are actually making a concerted effort to document them. People will say 'my horoscope says that I should have a good day', and the positives are taken out of it, and when you are supposed to have a bad day, the situation is reversed. In Adam Curtis' documentary The Trap (available in full on youtube), he talks about the number of people who suddenly started to diagnose themselves for psychological trauma when all they were doing was feeling normal emotions. And then it becomes a downward spiral; the anxiety heightens the more we look for evidence that there is indeed something wrong, which further exacerbates the wrong that we see.

For me, I strongly believe that we make our own luck. Of course, fortune and misfortune will always smile (or frown) upon us, but the more opportunities and options we give ourselves to succeed, and the less we rely on superstition to take responsibility from us, the better off we are.

And, ultimately, the luckier we become.

Cargo Cults, Causality, Capitalism (and Mathematics) (Part I)

It is interesting how the strangest discussions can produce some of the most amazing moments of clarity and insight.

I will always remember the local bus ride from Bhubaneswar to Puri, not so much because of the scenery (which was quite amazing!), but because of the subject matter of the conversation. I was sitting with my traveling cohort in the bus, trying to think of something to pass the time. So I turned to him and asked him 'What do you think the strangest possible name for a city could be?' We threw around a few names and had a few laughs, and then he mentioned one name that I cannot repeat here because the title was so ironic and hilarious in so many ways, that it quickly went from a discussion about random names to analyzing this odd phrase. And from that phrase grew an idea for a novel that could be used as an allegory to produce a rather damning critique of the practices of the rich global elite. As the plot got more and more absurd the more 'accurate' the metaphor was, my friend mentioned that he wanted some place in it for some sort of cargo cult (as he thought that this would be a rather hilariously naive sequence of events to add). At the time, it seemed a bit daunting to know how to fit it all in (and he soon put me in sole charge of any sort of novel that might come of it, so I tried to develop the idea and still believe it can and should be written once I get the time to do so, hence why I would rather not reveal the phrase in question).

But recently I was reminded of this with regard to the situation in Libya and Africa in general. I started using the term 'cargo cult' to describe a lot of American foreign policy because by looking through history, it seems that in the post-WWII era almost every coup, coup attempt, or other such means to usurp power in the third world has some connection to the United States (and, it seems, the World Bank and IMF are not far behind) either as supporting it or helping to defeat it: Chile, Brazil, Congo, Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Vietnam, Korea, Philippines, Nicaragua, Angola, Mozambique, Namibia, South Africa, Iraq, Iran, the list goes on.

And in the aftermath of these we see the hypocrisy surrounding American claims for 'freedom', 'democracy', and 'overthrowing of dictators'. Few Chileans, for example, will forget the brutality of Pinochet, few Congolese will forget the personality cult and autocracy of Mobutu, few Egyptians will forget the exploitation by Mubarak. And of course, there is the perpetual eye-sore of Vietnam: when I was in HCMC/Saigon, I did the rounds in the Vietnam War Museum and literally left in tears. Of course, the term cargo cult refers to the ill-conceived beliefs of various tribes of Pacific Islanders throughout history believing that foreign explorers were spirits, etc., but it is also idiomatically used (in the words of wikipedia) "to mean any group of people who imitate the superficial exterior of a process or system without having any understanding of the underlying substance". In other words, for some reason (well... not 'some reason', but mostly due to the overinflated Western media spreading its hegemonic pro-capitalist message) too often people see the United States as some sort of unbiased saviour and morally righteous actor in a Manichean interpretation of the global world. If only they would learn a bit of history.

Anyway, where philosophy really kicks in here is the fact that what underlines cargo cults is an egregious logical flaw: P implies Q is obviously not logically equivalent to Q implies P, and moreover, the association of two events does not necessarily imply logical dependence. So we have that explorers come and bring strange goods to the islands, but that doesnt imply that strange goods on an island implies explorers came (as in, instead of making religious sacrifices, these goods could be scientifically assessed to try to recreate them without 'foreign intervention'), nor does it mean that a certain religious ceremony being performed on the day that said explorers arrive implies that the perpetuation of said ceremony will imply that said explorers will arrive again. The same ideas can be applied to American foreign policy: even if American foreign policy produces 'change' (irrespective of one's assessment of the qualities of said change), this does not mean that some sort of change requires the intervention of a Western power. Moreover, 'change' and 'good' are not always synonymous, and history shows that there are many 'changes' that the US has brought about that really aren't so 'good'.

For example, it is clear from the difference I see in the manner in which some/many South Africans conduct themselves socially versus the ease in which other Africans conduct themselves socially that the apartheid history has had a major effect on South Africa. A brief look into the books of history shows that the Soweto uprisings in 1976 should have spelled the beginning of the end for apartheid in South Africa. By December of 1980, the Carter administration had almost convinced Botha, the leader of the apartheid government, to grant Namibia its independence, and this would likely have had a domino effect on political policies in South Africa in general. A month later, Botha suddenly made an about turn. The reason? Reagan became president and threw his weight behind Botha's racist regime in order to have a staunchly anti-communist ally to undermine socialism in southern Africa and possible give Reagan an upper hand in the Cold War: cue a lengthy civil war in Angola, and a perpetuation of apartheid in South Africa for a further ten years. And, of course, cue the 'sacrifices' for the sake of perpetuating American self-interest. Interestingly, a main reason for Botha relinquishing control of the ruling party was because of a heart attack he experienced two days before Reagan's second term ended. He expected an individual that backed his apartheid approach would come into power, but he guessed wrong and De Klerk gained control of the National Party, the catalyst for the end of apartheid. Although Botha bitterly maintained his hold on the presidency for a further six months, he relinquished control in protest when he realized that he no longer had any power.

If one agrees that the perpetuation of apartheid in South Africa was not 'a good', but one doubts the role that the US played, they can read various letters between Reagan and Botha that are available in the public domain. Reagan's response to Botha includes an opinion that criticisms of South African policy (i.e. apartheid) are “over-simplified or distorted notions and frequently from sources that have little to brag about themselves,” maintaining it was “all the more imperative that pro-democratic blacks join – and be seen to join – [Botha] in building a new South Africa.” On the other hand, he offers the following 'political support': “it will be possible for my administration, our business community and key allies of the United States to play a more constructive role” in backing the South African apartheid government. Of course, this was dependent on various 'conditions' being met, including support for Angolan free-marketer Jonas Savimbi (which resulted in South Africa invading Angola and contributing to a decade-long civil war) in order to "erode Soviet political influence over Angola", and a commitment to the Nkomati Accord, which basically monitored and put pressure on socialist moves in Mozambique and, indirectly, in neighbouring Zimbabwe.

If one STILL does not agree, that individual should note that the passing of the Comprehensive Anti-Apartheid Act passed in 1986 by the US administration, which really turned the thumbscrews on the Botha government by isolating South Africa economically, was vetoed by Reagan. It is the only instance in the 20th century when a presidential veto on foreign policy was overturned by the necessary two-thirds majority in Congress.

ANYWAY, after I thought about it in this way, I realized that perhaps a cargo cult really is needed in that novel... if I ever get around to writing it.

Tune in later (maybe tomorrow if I get around to it) for Part II, which, I promise, will include some talk of mathematics (YAY!) and will not include tirades that 'vilify' those involved in enacting and carrying out the policies of Team America World Police.

"... and Philosophy"

I suppose that is one way to make philosophy 'fashionable'; present it within the context of whatever is in vogue at the time and hope that people purchase the over-priced books you are attempting to use to exploit a niche market. Good job. I've seen 'The Simpsons and Philosophy', 'Fight Club and Philosophy', and a bunch of others that I can't remember. I'm sure they probably have 'WWE and Philosophy' and 'MMA and Philosophy' by now. But let me put this into context. I wish to speak about 'Beavis & Butthead and Philosophy'. Strange? Probably. How is it that two cartoon morons who couldnt think their way out of a wet paper bag would have some way to contribute to the 'pure thought' of philosophy?

Well let me begin with an event that occurred yesterday. I was sitting in Debonairs (it's a pizza company in South Africa) waiting for the pizza that I had ordered to fill the hole that had cropped up during my day of not eating much. While I had been walking down the hill from UCT towards Debonairs, I had heard some singing going on across the street, but I didnt think much of it; I have seen various popular street bands and buskers during my time here. And then there are the pairs of people on the trains: someone who is blind or has some visible justification for sympathy is led through the traincars by an escort. They then sing about the salvation they are going to receive when they get to heaven, and the salvation that Christ will give them, all the while keeping the beat by shaking the cup full of coins they are using to collect donations like a makeshift tambourine. Ive heard rumours that people are exploiting this: 'renting' these blind people, seniors, babies, and whomever else to try to exploit people's sympathy, and in the end giving the individuals that they rent little or nothing.

But anyway, back to my original point: singers, not so strange a thing to conceive of, even when its dark out. So while I was waiting for my pizza, these same singers came to the door of Debonair's and started belting out their song. At first I took the ascetic look and the robes to imply that they were Buddhists. But then I listened to the chant of 'Hare Hare Krishna Krishna' that had become so familiar to me whilst I was traveling throughout India, noticed that a few of them were sporting Bindi dots, and then it became clear where they were coming from.

So what does this have to do with Beavis & Butthead?

Well I recall one episode, I think it was called 'Balloon'. At the beginning of the episode, they see a plea from someone to stop people being irresponsible with their helium balloons because they drift out to sea, fall into the water, and are choked on by dolphins. So what happens? Our two heroes think 'hey, let's bring some helium balloons to the local aquarium, break them over the pool, and choke these poor aquatic lifeforms... "that would be cool" [of course]'. After the outtakes where they get high on the helium, etc., they go to the aquarium, and they are holding onto the balloons, but then Beavis hands over something that makes him too light to hold the balloons down, so they carry him up over the pool. Butthead takes aim with the slingshot, hits Beavis 'in the nads' causing him to let go of the balloons and fall into the pool. At that moment, 'its hammer time' and a bunch of hammerhead sharks come into the pool. But they are quickly escorted back because there is some sort of 'pollution' being detected in the water. Beavis has had a pee in the pool.

So what?

Well at the end of it all, Butthead asks Beavis 'did you pee in the pool because you were smart, or because you were scared?' And Beavis replies 'because it felt good.'

While I was watching these singers outside of Debonairs, this very idea occurred to me, because a few of the singers were westerners who had taken up the cause of Hare Krishna. One of the individuals in question was a guy that would fall entirely within the bounds of token geek/dork/nerd/loser: awkward face, huge glasses, etc. He had shaved his head except for a ponytail at the back and was belting away along with the rest of the group. So I thought why does it seem that the individuals that seem to be shunned by 'western society' seem to take up these 'alternative' ideologies? Is it because they are smart, and they understand the advantages of doing so? Or is it because they are scared and feel that they need some sort of niche that will accept them without passing judgment? Interestingly, the Hare Krishna movement has had a big effect on hippy culture in the 60s (many people from beat poets to the Beatles justify this claim), and by going to India, one can see that Krishna and hippies still go hand in hand. So what is it about these alternative individuals with their alternative lifestyles? Are they coming (into what they deem to be a better world-view) or are they going (from a world that they feel rejected within)?

Or are these ideas fundamentally the same, just looked at from two different vantage points?

Journalists on Drugs

I've recently taken on a few journalism jobs. I dont know if this is philosophy or not, but it should be. Most recently, Ive been selected as new 'Science/Nature/Technology' journalist for the Cape Town Globalist. The theme of the next edition is 'Drugs', which is quite nice.

Interesting things, drugs. I may have reported earlier that when I had imbibed far too much bhang lassi in Gokarna and was confined to my bed for the better part of the evening and night (that is, when I wasnt exorcising demons in the squatter toilet out back... though no hangover thankfully!), what was most on my mind was the whole notion that reality can be distorted so ridiculously by pouring a small amount of toxin into the flowing river of sense-data. The brain is an amazing thing and these sorts of situations ask serious questions surrounding 'what is reality?' If reality is the sum total of our sensory experiences, then the fact that we can use various stimulants to change that reality seem to lend a certain amount of credibility to a more idealist notion of reality: 'to be is to be perceived', as Berkeley put it. If I take a drug cocktail that puts me in the shoes of the protagonist in 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas', reality has suddenly changed from rational to completely distorted. It seems fairly obvious that my reality will no longer correlate with anyone else's reality, including that of my buddy who has also taken said drug cocktail.

So maybe solipsism isnt so far-fetched after all...

(Oh, and for anyone interested, the plan for my article is that it be one entitled 'Gifts from the Gods' or 'The Opiate of the Masses' (Im not sure which approach to take yet) and it will be all about the drug properties of Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh... There are recent articles about frankincense stimulating various ion pathways in the brain that are not well-understood, and there have been studies about myrrh having various drug-like effects as well... and gold... well we all know the drug-like euphoria, giddiness, hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia that come with having various amounts of gold around.... i.e.

"[Gold] gets dug out of the ground in Africa, or someplace. Then we melt it down, dig another hole, bury it again and pay people to stand around guarding it. It has no utility. Anyone watching from Mars would be scratching their head." -- Warren Buffett)

I Want a New Drug

One that won't make me sick
One that won't make me crash my car
Or make me feel three feet thick

What is philosophy about? Well, I suppose it depends on what you value and how you connect with the world. Simply discovering the sometimes ridiculously strange interpretations of reality arising in philosophy made me turn around and wonder what I really knew or thought I knew. Thus I suppose it depends on the one hand whether you can 'see past' a 'normal' idea of reality, and on the other hand whether you risk taking such a drastic step.

George Berkeley's conception of 'idealism' in the form of the idea that 'to be is to be perceived' made me feel like I was on drugs (or. perhaps, that he was) when I first saw it. How is it possible that absolutely EVERYTHING exists because it is perceived? So the earth I walk on wouldn't be there if my eyes didn't look at and my feet didn't walk on it? Then where does that put me as a human being? Something akin to a holodeck in Star Trek? That we are being fed into some interface that springs up as the world around us? A wisp in a vast astral ocean?

So can I define philosophy as a drug? The BEST drug? Maybe a drug, but maybe not the best. Nietzsche is a fine example of what can happen if you throw your mind into an abyss of thought with no day-to-day life to sober you up: "If you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss also stares into you."

In Gokarna when I had a bit too much bhang lassi, and I was laying in bed in agony trying my utmost to prevent my sanity from escaping into oblivion, I tried to make sense of the reality of the situation: my nervous system somehow changes external phenomena into some internal pattern that is made sense of. So suppose you are a river of perception interpreting patterns constantly floating by, what happens when you tip a small amount of some other substance that upsets the balance? Sometimes (if your lucky or unlucky depending again on what you value), chaos. And this implies that you have some control over what's going on around you. Or, at least, that you can disturb it. Upsetting the balance of how chemicals and synapses transfer information is enough to distort reality. Why? Because suddenly you look at things differently. Since it becomes the case that you cannot properly predict what's going on around you, you must compensate for this by shutting things out, which makes many look within. And introversion leads to dangerous questions: 'what the hell am I doing?' and 'can reality really be so fleeting that a gentle push from a foreign substance flings you into a temporary abyss?' It's about how you think and how you interpret what goes on around you.

And how you perceive and react to the Absurd.

Or maybe that's just me.

So, what is philosophy about?

It's about how you think and how you interpret what goes on around you.