Theodor Adorno’s Philosophy of Punctuation

Adorno

Ger­man crit­i­cal the­o­rist Theodor Adorno is known for many things, but a light touch isn’t one of them. His work includes despair­ing post-fas­cist ethics and a study on the soci­ol­o­gy and psy­chol­o­gy of fas­cism. Those who dig deep­er into his cat­a­log may know his rig­or­ous­ly philo­soph­i­cal Neg­a­tive Dialec­tics or dense, opaque Aes­thet­ic The­o­ry. Giv­en the seri­ous­ly heavy nature of these books, you might be sur­prised, as I was, to read the para­graph below:

An excla­ma­tion point looks like an index fin­ger raised in warn­ing; a ques­tion mark looks like a flash­ing light or the blink of an eye. A colon, says Karl Kraus, opens its mouth wide: woe to the writer who does not fill it with some­thing nour­ish­ing. Visu­al­ly, the semi­colon looks like a droop­ing mous­tache; I am even more aware of its gamey taste. With self-sat­is­fied peas­ant cun­ning, Ger­man quo­ta­tion marks («> >) lick their lips.

The skill­ful deploy­ment of apho­rism seems typ­i­cal; the play­ful­ness not so much. But Adorno’s short essay, “punc­tu­a­tion marks,” takes a sober turn short­ly there­after, and for good rea­son. Punc­tu­a­tion is seri­ous busi­ness. Sound­ing much more like the Adorno I know, the dour Marx­ist writes, “His­to­ry has left its residue in punc­tu­a­tion marks, and it is his­to­ry, far more than mean­ing or gram­mat­i­cal func­tion, that looks out at us, rigid­i­fied and trem­bling slight­ly, from every mark of punc­tu­a­tion.” Okay.

Well, Adorno would just hate what I’m about to do, but—hey—this is the inter­net; who has the time and con­cen­tra­tion to tra­verse the rocky course of thought he carves out in his work? Maybe you? Good, read the full essay. Not you? See below for some bite-sized high­lights.

Punc­tu­a­tion as music: “punc­tu­a­tion marks,” Adorno writes, “are marks of oral deliv­ery.” As such, they func­tion like musi­cal nota­tion. “The com­ma and the peri­od cor­re­spond to the half-cadence and the authen­tic cadence.” Excla­ma­tion points are “like silent cym­bal clash­es, ques­tion marks like musi­cal upbeats.” Colons are like “dom­i­nant sev­enth chords.” Adorno, a musi­col­o­gist and com­pos­er him­self, heard things in these sym­bols most of us prob­a­bly don’t.

The semi­colon: There is no mark of punc­tu­a­tion that Adorno rejects out­right. All have their place and pur­pose. He does decry the mod­ernist ten­den­cy to most­ly leave them out, since “then they sim­ply hide.” But Adorno reserves a spe­cial pride of place for the semi­colon. He claims that “only a per­son who can per­ceive the dif­fer­ent weights of strong and weak phras­ings in musi­cal form” can under­stand the dif­fer­ence between semi­colon and com­ma. He dif­fer­en­ti­ates between the Greek and Ger­man semi­colon. And he express­es alarm “that the semi­colon is dying out.” This, he claims, is due to a fear of “page-long paragraphs”—the kind he often writes. It is “a fear cre­at­ed by the marketplace—by the con­sumer who does not want to tax him­self.” Right, I told you, he would hate the inter­net, though he seems to thrive—posthumously—on Twit­ter.

Quo­ta­tion marks: While Adorno accepts every punc­tu­a­tion mark as mean­ing­ful, he does not accept all uses of them. In the case of the quo­ta­tion mark, his advice is pre­cise­ly what I have received, and have passed on to over­ly glib and thought­less stu­dents. Quo­ta­tion marks, he writes, should only be used for direct quotes, “and if need be when the text wants to dis­tance itself from a word it is refer­ring to.” This can include writ­ing words as words (the word “word” is a word…). Adorno rejects quo­ta­tion marks as an “iron­ic device.” This usage presents “a pre­de­ter­mined judg­ment on the sub­ject”; it offers a “blind ver­dict.”

The ellip­sis: On this mark, Adorno becomes very prick­ly, par­tic­u­lar, and, well… ellip­ti­cal. Three dots “sug­gests an infini­tude of thoughts and asso­ci­a­tions.” Two is the mark of a hack. I leave it to you to parse his rea­son­ing.

The dash: First, we have “the seri­ous dash,” in which “thought becomes aware of its frag­men­tary char­ac­ter.” Dash­es may sig­nal “mute lines into the past, wrin­kles on the brow” of the text, ”uneasy silence.” Dash­es need not con­nect thoughts. The “desire to con­nect every­thing,” Adorno writes, is the mark of “lit­er­ary dilet­tantes.” Thus the “mod­ern dash” is debased, a symp­tom of “the pro­gres­sive degen­er­a­tion of lan­guage.” It pre­pares us “in a fool­ish way for sur­pris­es that by that very token are no longer sur­pris­ing.” Adorno also prefers anoth­er use of dashes—more below.

Paren­the­ses: Par­en­thet­i­cal phras­es (like this) cre­ate “enclaves” and admit the “super­flu­ous­ness” of their con­tents, which is why many style­books frown upon them. Their use in this way “capitulate[s] to pedan­tic philis­tin­ism.” The “cau­tious writer”—writes punc­til­ious­ly cau­tious Adorno—will place par­en­thet­i­cals between dash­es, “which block off par­en­thet­i­cal mate­r­i­al from the flow of the sen­tence with­out shut­ting it up in a prison.” The paren­the­ses do have their place, as do all marks of punc­tu­a­tion in Adorno’s lex­i­cal the­o­ry. But prob­a­bly only if you are Proust.

Read­ing Adorno—on punc­tu­a­tion and any­thing else—can be intim­i­dat­ing. His eru­di­tion, his dis­dain for care­less­ness, mid­dle­brow expe­di­en­cy, and the crude forms of expres­sion giv­en birth by com­merce of all kinds: these are atti­tudes that can seem at times like over­bear­ing elit­ism. And yet, Adorno under­stands the bur­den­some nature of writ­ing pre­scrip­tions. “The writer,” he admits, “is in a per­ma­nent predica­ment when it comes to punc­tu­a­tion marks: if one were ful­ly aware while writ­ing, one would sense the impos­si­bil­i­ty of ever using a mark of punc­tu­a­tion cor­rect­ly and would give up writ­ing alto­geth­er.” Far too many have done so. We “can­not trust in the rules,” nor can we ignore them. What to do? Err on the side of the abstemious says our pok­er-faced Ger­man Strunk; to avoid slop­pi­ness or rote mis­use, fol­low an Epi­cure­an mean: “bet­ter too few than too many.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Cor­mac McCarthy’s Three Punc­tu­a­tion Rules, and How They All Go Back to James Joyce

The Curi­ous His­to­ry of Punc­tu­a­tion: Author Reveals the Begin­nings of the #, ¶, ☞, and More

Hear Theodor Adorno’s Avant-Garde Musi­cal Com­po­si­tions

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Sun Ra’s Full Lecture & Reading List From His 1971 UC Berkeley Course, “The Black Man in the Cosmos”

A pio­neer of “Afro­fu­tur­ism,” band­leader Sun Ra emerged from a tra­di­tion­al swing scene in Alaba­ma, tour­ing the coun­try in his teens as a mem­ber of his high school biol­o­gy teacher’s big band. While attend­ing Alaba­ma Agri­cul­tur­al and Mechan­i­cal Uni­ver­si­ty, he had an out-of-body expe­ri­ence dur­ing which he was trans­port­ed into out­er space. As biog­ra­ph­er John Szwed records him say­ing, “my whole body changed into some­thing else. I land­ed on a plan­et that I iden­ti­fied as Sat­urn.” While there, aliens with “lit­tle anten­na on each ear. A lit­tle anten­na on each eye” instruct­ed him to drop out of col­lege and speak through his music. And that’s just what he did, chang­ing his name from Her­man Blount and nev­er look­ing back.

Whether you believe that sto­ry, whether Sun Ra believes it, or whether his entire per­sona is a the­atri­cal put-on should make no dif­fer­ence. Because Sun Ra would be a vision­ary either way. Com­bin­ing Afro­cen­tric sci­ence fic­tion, eso­teric and occult phi­los­o­phy, Egyp­tol­ogy, and, with his “Arkestra,” his own brand of free jazz-futur­ism that has no equal on earth, the man is tru­ly sui gener­is. In 1971, he served as artist-in-res­i­dence at UC Berke­ley and offered a spring semes­ter lec­ture, African-Amer­i­can Stud­ies 198, also known as “Sun Ra 171,” “The Black Man in the Uni­verse,” or “The Black man in the Cos­mos.” The course fea­tured read­ings from—to name just a few—theosophist Madame Blavatsky, French philoso­pher Con­stan­tin Fran­cois de Chas­se­boeuf, black Amer­i­can writer and poet Hen­ry Dumas, and “God,” whom the cos­mic jazz the­o­rist report­ed­ly list­ed as the author of The Source Book of Man’s Life and Death (oth­er­wise known as the King James Bible).

Now we have the rare oppor­tu­ni­ty to hear a full lec­ture from that class, thanks to Ubu.com. Lis­ten to Sun Ra spin his intri­cate, bizarrely oth­er­world­ly the­o­ries, drawn from his per­son­al phi­los­o­phy, pecu­liar ety­molo­gies, and idio­syn­crat­ic read­ings of reli­gious texts. Hear­ing him speak is a lit­tle like hear­ing him play, so be pre­pared for a lot of free asso­ci­a­tion and jar­ring, unex­pect­ed jux­ta­po­si­tions. Szwed describes a “typ­i­cal lec­ture” below:

Sun Ra wrote bib­li­cal quotes on the board and then ‘per­mu­tat­ed’ them—rewrote and trans­formed their let­ters and syn­tax into new equa­tions of mean­ing, while mem­bers of the Arkestra passed through the room, pre­vent­ing any­one from tap­ing the class. His lec­ture sub­jects includ­ed Neo­pla­ton­ic doc­trines; the appli­ca­tion of ancient his­to­ry and reli­gious texts to racial prob­lems; pol­lu­tion and war; and a rad­i­cal rein­ter­pre­ta­tion of the Bible in light of Egyp­tol­ogy.

Luck­i­ly for us, some sly stu­dent cap­tured one of those lec­tures on tape.

For more of Pro­fes­sor Ra’s spaced out pre­sen­ta­tion, see the Helsin­ki inter­view above, also from 1971. And if you decide you need your own edu­ca­tion in “Sun Ra 171,” see the full read­ing list from his Berke­ley course below, cour­tesy of the blog New Day.

The Egypt­ian Book of the Dead

Radix

Alexan­der His­lop: Two Baby­lons

The Theo­soph­i­cal works of Madame Blavatsky

The Book of Oah­spe

Hen­ry Dumas: Ark of Bones

Hen­ry Dumas: Poet­ry for My Peo­ple eds. Hale Charfield & Eugene Red­mond, Car­bon­dale: South­ern Illi­nois Uni­ver­si­ty Press 1971

Black Fire: An Anthol­o­gy of Afro-Amer­i­can Writ­ing, eds. Leroi Jones & Lar­ry Neal, New York: William Mor­row 1968

David Liv­ingston: Mis­sion­ary Trav­els

Theodore P. Ford: God Wills the Negro

Rut­ledge: God’s Chil­dren

Sty­lus, vol. 13, no. 1 (Spring 1971), Tem­ple Uni­ver­si­ty

John S. Wil­son: Jazz. Where It Came From, Where It’s At, Unit­ed States Infor­ma­tion Agency

Yosef A. A. Ben-Jochan­nan: Black Man of the Nile and His Fam­i­ly, Alk­ibu Ian Books 1972

Con­stan­tin Fran­cois de Chas­se­boeuf, Comte de Vol­ney: The Ruins, or, Med­i­ta­tion on the Rev­o­lu­tions of Empires, and the Law of Nature, Lon­don: Pio­neer Press 1921

The Source Book of Man’s Life and Death (Ra’s descrip­tion; = The King James Bible)

Pjotr Demi­anovitch Ous­pen­sky: A New Mod­el of the Uni­verse. Prin­ci­ples of the Psy­cho­log­i­cal Method in Its Appli­ca­tion to Prob­lems of Sci­ence, Reli­gion and Art, New York: Knopf 1956

Fred­er­ick Bod­mer: The Loom of Lan­guage. An Approach to the Mas­tery of Many Lan­guages, ed. Lancelot Hog­ben, New York: Nor­ton & Co. 1944

Black­ie’s Ety­mol­o­gy

Count­less oth­er free cours­es from UC Berke­ley can be found in our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds and audio cour­tesy of Sen­si­tive Skin Mag­a­zine

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Her­bie Han­cock Presents the Pres­ti­gious Nor­ton Lec­tures at Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty: Watch Online

Son­ic Youth Gui­tarist Thurston Moore Teach­es a Poet­ry Work­shop at Naropa Uni­ver­si­ty: See His Class Notes (2011)

Space Jazz, a Son­ic Sci-Fi Opera by L. Ron Hub­bard, Fea­tur­ing Chick Corea (1983)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Ayn Rand Trashes C.S. Lewis in Her Marginalia: He’s an “Abysmal Bastard”

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Images via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

The polit­i­cal inter­sec­tion of Ayn Ran­di­an lib­er­tar­i­ans and Evan­gel­i­cal con­ser­v­a­tives is a baf­fling phe­nom­e­non for most of us out­side the Amer­i­can right. It’s hard to rec­on­cile the athe­ist arch-cap­i­tal­ist and despis­er of social wel­fare with, for exam­ple, the Ser­mon on the Mount. But hey, mixed mar­riages often work out, right? Well, as for Rand her­self, one would hard­ly find her sym­pa­thet­ic to reli­gion or its expos­i­tors at any point in her career. Take her sound lash­ing of writer, schol­ar, and lay the­olo­gian C.S. Lewis, intel­lec­tu­al hero of Protes­tant Chris­tian­i­ty. (Wheaton Col­lege hous­es his per­son­al library, and there exists not only a C.S. Lewis Insti­tute, but also a C.S. Lewis Foun­da­tion.) Lewis’ The Abo­li­tion of Man (1943), while osten­si­bly a text on edu­ca­tion, also pur­ports, like Aquinas’ Sum­ma The­o­log­i­ca, to expound the prin­ci­ples of nat­ur­al law and objec­tive moral val­ue. Rand would have none of it.

LewisRand

Reli­gion jour­nal First Things brings us excerpts from the edit­ed col­lec­tion, Ayn Rand’s Mar­gin­a­lia: Her crit­i­cal com­ments on the writ­ings of over 20 authors. In it, Rand gloss­es Lewis’s Abo­li­tion of Man with sav­age feroc­i­ty, call­ing the author an “abysmal bas­tard,” “cheap, dri­v­el­ling non-enti­ty” [sic], and “abysmal scum!” The screen­shot above (Lewis left, Rand’s anno­ta­tions right) from the First Things’ blog post offers a typ­i­cal rep­re­sen­ta­tion of Rand’s tone through­out, and includes some par­tic­u­lar­ly elab­o­rate insults.

LewisRandII

The C.S. Lewis Foun­da­tion com­ments that Lewis “prob­a­bly would not have approved of the lev­el of ven­om, but he prob­a­bly would not have liked Rand’s phi­los­o­phy much either.” Anoth­er Chris­t­ian aca­d­e­m­ic has suc­cess­ful­ly squared an appre­ci­a­tion for both Rand and Lewis, but writes crit­i­cal­ly of Rand, who “seems to have inter­pret­ed Lewis’s book as a Lud­dite screed against sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy,” part of her “ten­den­cy to car­i­ca­ture her oppo­nents.” Cer­tain­ly no one ever accused her of sub­tle­ty. “It’s pret­ty clear,” our pro­fes­sor con­tin­ues, “that when show­ing stu­dents how to engage in schol­ar­ly dis­course, Ayn Rand should not be the mod­el.” No, indeed, but how she would thrive on the Inter­net.

Read more at First Things, and down­load a PDF of the Rand-anno­tat­ed Lewis excerpts here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Audio: Down­load the Com­plete Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia by C.S. Lewis

The Only Known Record­ings of C.S. Lewis (1944–1948)

Watch Hand-Drawn Ani­ma­tions of 7 Sto­ries & Essays by C.S. Lewis

Flan­nery O’Connor: Friends Don’t Let Friends Read Ayn Rand (1960)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Routledge Gives Free Access to 6,000 eBooks in June (Including Philosophy & Cultural Studies Texts)

phenomenological mind

A quick note: After dig­i­tiz­ing over 15,000 books, Rout­ledge has made 6,000 of these e‑texts free for view­ing dur­ing the month of June. You can browse the com­plete list of titles in Rout­ledge’s e‑catalog by click­ing here. Once you have select­ed a title, you can then click the blue “View Inside this Book” but­ton to start read­ing the text. The col­lec­tion includes lots of works focused on Eco­nom­ics, Finance and Busi­nessPol­i­tics and Inter­na­tion­al Rela­tions; and Phi­los­o­phy and Cul­tur­al Stud­ies.The lat­ter cat­e­go­ry will undoubt­ed­ly inter­est our many philo­soph­i­cal­ly-mind­ed read­ers. Among the texts you will find Fou­cault and Edu­ca­tionCul­tur­al Analy­sis The Work of Peter L. Berg­er, Mary Dou­glas, Michel Fou­cault, and Jür­gen Haber­mas; Hei­deg­ger and the Roman­tics: The Lit­er­ary Inven­tion of Mean­ingThe Note­books of Simone Weil; and A His­tor­i­cal Intro­duc­tion to Phe­nom­e­nol­o­gy. The image above comes from The Phe­nom­e­no­log­i­cal Mind by Shaun Gal­lagher and Dan Zahavi.

via Leit­er Reports

Relat­ed Con­tent:

800 Free eBooks for iPad, Kin­dle & Oth­er Devices

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

Michel Fou­cault: Free Lec­tures on Truth, Dis­course & The Self

170 Free Text­books: A Meta Col­lec­tion

Read 9 Books By Noam Chom­sky Free Online

 

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Introducing Ergo, the New Open Philosophy Journal

ergoadApril30The new open phi­los­o­phy jour­nal, Ergo, was “cre­at­ed in response to a need for gen­er­al phi­los­o­phy jour­nals that are effi­cient, open access, inclu­sive, and trans­par­ent.” Tra­di­tion­al phi­los­o­phy jour­nals move slow­ly, tak­ing some­where between 5 and 9 months to tell schol­ars whether their sub­mis­sions will be accept­ed or not. They over­whelm­ing­ly favor work writ­ten by white men. And they cater to meta­physics and epis­te­mol­o­gy, while giv­ing less atten­tion to the phi­los­o­phy of mind, ethics, and polit­i­cal the­o­ry.

Enter Ergo, the new open jour­nal cre­at­ed by The Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan, which just pub­lished its first issue online. The aver­age time-to-deci­sion was 21 days, with the jour­nal reject­ing 93% of the sub­mis­sions. The first five accept­ed arti­cles cov­ered Epis­te­mol­o­gy (twice), His­to­ry of Mod­ern Phi­los­o­phy, Phi­los­o­phy of Biol­o­gy, and Phi­los­o­phy of Mind. And, as the edi­tors seem acute­ly aware, the first sub­mis­sions were still dom­i­nat­ed by men. (Get more back­ground on the jour­nal here.)

All of the arti­cles are free to read­ers (while authors retain copy­right under a Cre­ative Com­mons license.) You can find more free pub­li­ca­tions by the Uni­ver­si­ty of Michi­gan in our pre­vi­ous post: 15 Free eBooks on New Media Stud­ies & the Dig­i­tal Human­i­ties.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

110 Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

Wal­ter Kaufmann’s Clas­sic Lec­tures on Niet­zsche, Kierkegaard and Sartre (1960)

An Intro­duc­tion to the Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy of Isa­iah Berlin Through His Free Writ­ings & Audio Lec­tures

Phi­los­o­phy with a South­ern Drawl: Rick Rod­er­ick Teach­es Der­ri­da, Fou­cault, Sartre and Oth­ers

Slavoj Žižek Tells Jokes (NSFW)

For Sig­mund Freud, a joke was nev­er just a joke, but a win­dow into the uncon­scious, laugh­ter an anx­ious symp­tom of recog­ni­tion that some­thing lost has resur­faced, dis­tort­ed into humor. For Sloven­ian psy­cho­an­a­lyt­ic philoso­pher Slavoj Žižek, jokes func­tion sim­i­lar­ly. And yet, in keep­ing with his com­mit­ment to left­ist pol­i­tics, he uses jokes not to expose the hid­den ter­rain of indi­vid­ual psy­ches but “to evoke binds of his­tor­i­cal cir­cum­stances hard to indi­cate by oth­er means.” So writes Ken­neth Bak­er in a brief SFGate review of the recent Žižek’s Jokes, a book-length com­pi­la­tion of Žižekisms pub­lished by MIT Press. Bak­er also points out a defin­ing fea­ture of Žižek’s humor: “Many of Žižek’s jokes pre­serve or even ampli­fy the vul­gar­i­ty of their demot­ic or pop cul­tur­al ori­gins.” Take the NSFW joke he tells above at the expense of a Mon­tene­grin friend. Žižek explains the joke as part of his maybe dubi­ous strat­e­gy of coun­ter­ing racism with “pro­gres­sive racism” or the “sol­i­dar­i­ty” of “shared obscenity”—the use of poten­tial­ly uncom­fort­able eth­nic humor to expose uncom­fort­able polit­i­cal truths that get repressed or papered over by polite­ness.

Some of Žižek’s humor is more trig­ger-warn­ing wor­thy, such as his retelling of this old Sovi­et dis­si­dent joke or this “very dirty joke” he report­ed­ly heard from a Pales­tin­ian Chris­t­ian acquain­tance. On the oth­er hand, some of his “dirty jokes” replace vul­gar­i­ty with the­o­ry. For exam­ple, Žižek likes to tell a “tru­ly obscene” ver­sion of the famous­ly filthy joke “The Aris­to­crats,” which you’ll know if you’ve seen, or only read about, the film of the same name. And yet in his take, instead of a series of increas­ing­ly dis­gust­ing acts, the fam­i­ly per­forms “a short course in Hegelian thought, debat­ing the true mean­ing of the neg­a­tiv­i­ty, of sub­la­tion, of absolute know­ing, etc.” This is per­haps an exam­ple of what Bak­er refers to as Žižekian jokes that are “baf­fling to read­ers not con­ver­sant with the gnarly dialec­tics of his thought, which does not lend itself eas­i­ly to sam­pling.” Be that as it may, much of Žižek’s humor works with­out the the­o­ret­i­cal con­text, and some of it is even tame enough for water cool­er inter­ludes. Below are four exam­ples of “safe” jokes, culled from web­site Crit­i­cal Theory’s list of “The 10 Best Žižek Jokes to Get You Through Finals” (which itself culls from Žižek’s Jokes). “Some of the jokes [in Žižek’s book] pro­vide hilar­i­ous insights into Hegelian dialec­tics, Lacan­ian psy­cho­analy­sis or ide­ol­o­gy,” writes Crit­i­cal The­o­ry, “Oth­ers are just fun­ny, and most are some­what offensive—a char­ac­ter­is­tic Žižek admit­ted­ly doesn’t care to cor­rect.”

#1 There is an old Jewish joke, loved by Derrida…

about a group of Jews in a syn­a­gogue pub­licly admit­ting their nul­li­ty in the eyes of God. First, a rab­bi stands up and says: “O God, I know I am worth­less. I am noth­ing!” After he has fin­ished, a rich busi­ness­man stands up and says, beat­ing him­self on the chest: “O God, I am also worth­less, obsessed with mate­r­i­al wealth. I am noth­ing!” After this spec­ta­cle, a poor ordi­nary Jew also stands up and also pro­claims: “O God, I am noth­ing.” The rich busi­ness­man kicks the rab­bi and whis­pers in his ear with scorn: “What inso­lence! Who is that guy who dares to claim that he is noth­ing too!”

#4 When the Turkish Communist writer Panait Istrati visited the Soviet Union in the mid- 1930s, the time of the big purges…

and show tri­als, a Sovi­et apol­o­gist try­ing to con­vince him about the need for vio­lence against the ene­mies evoked the proverb “You can’t make an omelet with­out break­ing eggs,” to which Istrati terse­ly replied: “All right. I can see the bro­ken eggs. Where’s this omelet of yours?”

We should say the same about the aus­ter­i­ty mea­sures imposed by IMF: the Greeks would have the full right to say, “OK, we are break­ing our eggs for all of Europe, but where’s the omelet you are promis­ing us?”

#7 This also makes meaningless the Christian joke…

accord­ing to which, when, in John 8:1–11, Christ says to those who want to stone the woman tak­en in adul­tery, “Let him who is with­out sin among you be the first to throw a stone!” he is imme­di­ate­ly hit by a stone, and then shouts back: “Moth­er! I asked you to stay at home!”

#8 In an old joke from the defunct German Democratic Republic,…

a Ger­man work­er gets a job in Siberia; aware of how all mail will be read by cen­sors, he tells his friends: “Let’s estab­lish a code: if a let­ter you will get from me is writ­ten in ordi­nary blue ink, it is true; if it is writ­ten in red ink, it is false.” After a month, his friends get the first let­ter, writ­ten in blue ink: “Every­thing is won­der­ful here: stores are full, food is abun­dant, apart­ments are large and prop­er­ly heat­ed, movie the­aters show films from the West, there are many beau­ti­ful girls ready for an affair—the only thing unavail­able is red ink.”

And is this not our sit­u­a­tion till now? We have all the free­doms one wants—the only thing miss­ing is the “red ink”: we “feel free” because we lack the very lan­guage to artic­u­late our unfree­dom. What this lack of red ink means is that, today, all the main terms we use to des­ig­nate the present con­flict —“war on ter­ror,” “democ­ra­cy and free­dom,” “human rights,” etc.—are false terms, mys­ti­fy­ing our per­cep­tion of the sit­u­a­tion instead of allow­ing us to think it. The task today is to give the pro­test­ers red ink.

For more of Slavoj Žižek’s wit­ti­cism, vul­gar­i­ty, and humor­ous cri­tiques of ide­o­log­i­cal for­ma­tions, polit­i­cal his­to­ry, and Hegelian and Lacan­ian thought, pick up a copy of Žižek’s Jokes, and see this Youtube com­pi­la­tion of the polit­i­cal­ly incor­rect left­ist philosopher’s humor caught on tape.

via Crit­i­cal The­o­ry

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Slavoj Žižek: What Full­fils You Cre­ative­ly Isn’t What Makes You Hap­py

Žižek!: 2005 Doc­u­men­tary Reveals the “Aca­d­e­m­ic Rock Star” and “Mon­ster” of a Man

In His Lat­est Film, Slavoj Žižek Claims “The Only Way to Be an Athe­ist is Through Chris­tian­i­ty”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Watch Hand-Drawn Animations of 7 Stories & Essays by C.S. Lewis

I can vivid­ly recall the first time I read C.S. Lewis’s The Screw­tape Let­ters. I was four­teen, and I was pre­pared to be ter­ri­fied by the book, know­ing of its demon­ic sub­ject mat­ter and believ­ing at the time in invis­i­ble malev­o­lence. The nov­el is writ­ten as a series of let­ters between Screw­tape and his nephew Worm­wood, two dev­ils tasked with cor­rupt­ing their human charges, or “patients,” through all sorts of sub­tle and insid­i­ous tricks. The book has a rep­u­ta­tion as a lit­er­ary aid to Chris­t­ian living—like Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress—but it’s so much more than that. Instead of fire and brim­stone, I found rib­ald wit, sharp satire, a cut­ting psy­cho­log­i­cal dis­sec­tion of the mod­ern West­ern mind, with its eva­sions, pre­ten­sions, and cagey delu­sions. Stripped of its the­ol­o­gy, it might have been writ­ten by Orwell or Sartre, though Lewis clear­ly owes a debt to Kierkegaard, as well as the long tra­di­tion of medieval moral­i­ty plays, with their cavort­ing dev­ils and didac­tic human types. Yes, the book is bald­ly moral­is­tic, but it’s also a bril­liant exam­i­na­tion of all the twist­ed ways we fool our­selves and dis­sem­ble,  or if you like, get led astray by evil forces.

If you haven’t read the book, you can see a con­cise ani­ma­tion of a crit­i­cal scene above, one of sev­en made by “C.S. Lewis Doo­dle” that illus­trate the key points of some of Lewis’s books and essays. Lewis believed in evil forces, but his method of pre­sent­ing them is pri­mar­i­ly lit­er­ary, and there­fore ambigu­ous and open to many dif­fer­ent read­ings (some­what like the dev­il Woland in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Mas­ter and Mar­gari­ta). The author imag­ined hell as “some­thing like the bureau­cra­cy of a police state or a thor­ough­ly nasty busi­ness office,” a descrip­tion as chill­ing as it is inher­ent­ly com­ic. As you can see above in the ani­mat­ed scene from Screw­tape by C.S. Lewis Doo­dle, the devils—though drawn in this case as old-fash­ioned winged fiends—behave like pet­ty func­tionar­ies as they lead Wormwood’s solid­ly mid­dle-class “patient” into the sin­is­ter clutch­es of mate­ri­al­ist doc­trine by appeal­ing to his intel­lec­tu­al van­i­ty. As much as it’s a con­dem­na­tion of said doc­trine, the scene also works as a cri­tique of a pop­u­lar dis­course that thrives on fash­ion­able jar­gon and the desire to be seen as rel­e­vant and well-read, no mat­ter the truth or coher­ence of one’s beliefs.

Screw­tape was by no means my first intro­duc­tion to Lewis’s works. Like many, many peo­ple, I cut my lit­er­ary teeth on The Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia (avail­able on audio here) and his bril­liant sci-fi Space Tril­o­gy. But it was the first book of his I’d read that was clear­ly apolo­getic in its intent, rather than alle­gor­i­cal. I’m sure I’m not unique among Lewis’s read­ers in grad­u­at­ing from Screw­tape to his more philo­soph­i­cal books and many essays. One such piece, “We Have No (Unlim­it­ed) Right to Hap­pi­ness,” takes on the mod­ern con­cep­tion of rights as nat­ur­al guar­an­tees, rather than soci­etal con­ven­tions. As he cri­tiques this rel­a­tive­ly recent notion, Lewis devel­ops a the­o­ry of sex­u­al moral­i­ty in which “when two peo­ple achieve last­ing hap­pi­ness, this is not sole­ly because they are great lovers but because they are also—I must put it crudely—good peo­ple; con­trolled, loy­al, fair-mind­ed, mutu­al­ly adapt­able peo­ple.” The C.S. Lewis Doo­dle above illus­trates the many exam­ples of fick­le­ness and incon­stan­cy that Lewis presents in his essay as foils for the virtues he espous­es.

The Lewis Doo­dle seen here illus­trates his 1948 essay “On Liv­ing in an Atom­ic Age,” in which Lewis chides read­ers for the pan­ic and para­noia over the impend­ing threat of nuclear war in the wake of Hiroshi­ma and Nagasa­ki. Such an occur­rence, he writes, would only result in the already inevitable—death—just as the plagues of the six­teenth cen­tu­ry or Viking raids:

This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be tak­en is to pull our­selves togeth­er. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atom­ic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sen­si­ble and human things — pray­ing, work­ing, teach­ing, read­ing, lis­ten­ing to music, bathing the chil­dren, play­ing ten­nis, chat­ting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts — not hud­dled togeth­er like fright­ened sheep and think­ing about bombs. They may break our bod­ies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dom­i­nate our minds.

It seems a very mature, and noble, per­spec­tive, but if you think that Lewis glibly gloss­es over the sub­stan­tive­ly dif­fer­ent effects of a nuclear age from any other—fallout, radi­a­tion poi­son­ing, the end of civ­i­liza­tion itself—you are mis­tak­en. His answer, how­ev­er, you may find as I do deeply fatal­is­tic. Lewis ques­tions the val­ue of civ­i­liza­tion alto­geth­er as a hope­less endeav­or bound to end in any case in “noth­ing.” “Nature is a sink­ing ship,” he writes, and dooms us all to anni­hi­la­tion whether we has­ten the end with tech­nol­o­gy or man­age to avoid that fate. Here is Lewis the apol­o­gist, pre­sent­ing us with the stark­est of options—either all of our endeav­ors are utter­ly mean­ing­less and with­out pur­pose or val­ue, since we can­not make them last for­ev­er, or all mean­ing and val­ue reside in the the­is­tic vision of exis­tence. I’ve not myself seen things Lewis’s way on this point, but the C.S. Lewis Doo­dler does, and urges his view­ers who agree to “send to your enquir­ing athe­is­tic mates” his love­ly lit­tle adap­ta­tions. Or you can sim­ply enjoy these as many non-reli­gious read­ers of Lewis enjoy his work—take what seems beau­ti­ful, humane, true, and skill­ful­ly, lucid­ly writ­ten (or drawn), and leave the rest for your enquir­ing Chris­t­ian mates.

You can watch all sev­en ani­ma­tions of C.S. Lewis’s writ­ings here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

C.S. Lewis’ Pre­scient 1937 Review of The Hob­bit by J.R.R. Tolkien: It “May Well Prove a Clas­sic”

Free Audio: Down­load the Com­plete Chron­i­cles of Nar­nia by C.S. Lewis

18 Ani­ma­tions of Clas­sic Lit­er­ary Works: From Pla­to and Shake­speare, to Kaf­ka, Hem­ing­way and Gaiman

Watch Ani­ma­tions of Oscar Wilde’s Children’s Sto­ries “The Hap­py Prince” and “The Self­ish Giant”

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

Who Are the Most Pernicious Thinkers? A List of Five Bad Western Philosophers: Name Your Own

Aquinas

Over at his blog Leit­er Reports, UC Chica­go pro­fes­sor of phi­los­o­phy Bri­an Leit­er is cur­rent­ly con­duct­ing a very inter­est­ing poll, ask­ing his read­ers to rank the 25 philoso­phers of “the mod­ern era” (the last 200 years) who “have had the most per­ni­cious influ­ence on phi­los­o­phy.” The pool of can­di­dates comes from an ear­li­er sur­vey of influ­en­tial philoso­phers, and Leit­er has imposed some con­di­tions on his respon­dents, ask­ing that they only rank philoso­phers they have read, and only include “seri­ous philosophers”–“no char­la­tans like Der­ri­da or ama­teurs like Rand.” While I per­son­al­ly wince at Leit­er’s Der­ri­da jab (and cheer his exclu­sion of Rand), I think his ques­tion may be a lit­tle too aca­d­e­m­ic, his field per­haps too nar­row.

But the polem­i­cal idea is so com­pelling that I felt it worth adopt­ing for a broad­er infor­mal sur­vey: con­tra Leit­er, I’ve ranked five philoso­phers who I think have had a most per­ni­cious influ­ence on the world at large. I’m lim­it­ing my own choic­es to West­ern philoso­phers, with which I’m most famil­iar, though obvi­ous­ly by my first choice, you can tell I’ve expand­ed the tem­po­ral para­me­ters. And in sport­ing lis­ti­cle fash­ion, I’ve not only made a rank­ing, but I’ve blurbed each of my choic­es, inspired by this fun Neatora­ma post, “9 Bad Boys of Phi­los­o­phy.”

While that list uses “bad” in the Michael Jack­son sense, I mean it in the sense of Leit­er’s “per­ni­cious.” And though I would also include the pro­vi­so that only “seri­ous” thinkers war­rant inclu­sion, I don’t think this nec­es­sar­i­ly rules out any­one on the basis of aca­d­e­m­ic canons of taste. One might as well include C.S. Lewis as Jean Bau­drillard, both of whom tend to get dis­missed in most phi­los­o­phy depart­ments. My own list sure­ly reveals my anti-author­i­tar­i­an bias­es, just as some oth­ers may rail at fuzzy think­ing with a list of post­mod­ernists, or social­ism with a list of Marx­ists. This is as it should be. Defin­ing the “bad,” after all, is bound to be a high­ly sub­jec­tive exer­cise, and one about which we can and should dis­agree, civil­ly but vig­or­ous­ly. So with no more ado, here are my five choic­es for “Most Per­ni­cious West­ern Philoso­phers.” I invite—nay urge you—to make your own lists in the com­ments, with expla­na­tions terse or pro­lix as you see fit.

1. Thomas Aquinas

The Domini­can fri­ar and author of the near-unread­ably dense Sum­ma The­o­log­i­ca made it his life’s work to har­mo­nize log­i­cal Aris­totelian thought and mys­ti­cal Chris­t­ian the­ol­o­gy, to the detri­ment of both. While for Aquinas and his medieval con­tem­po­raries, nat­ur­al the­ol­o­gy rep­re­sents an ear­ly attempt at empiri­cism, the empha­sis on the “the­ol­o­gy” meant that the West has endured cen­turies of spu­ri­ous “proofs” of God’s exis­tence and com­plete­ly incom­pre­hen­si­ble ratio­nal­iza­tions of the Trin­i­ty, the vir­gin birth, and oth­er mirac­u­lous tales that have no ana­logue in observ­able phe­nom­e­na.

Like many church fathers before him, Thomas’s employ­ment as a kind of Grand Inquisi­tor of heretics and a cod­i­fi­er of dog­ma makes me all the more averse to his thought, though much of it is admit­ted­ly of great his­tor­i­cal import.

2. Carl Schmitt

Schmitt was a Nazi, which—as in the case of Mar­tin Heidegger—strangely hasn’t dis­qual­i­fied his thought from seri­ous appraisal across the polit­i­cal spec­trum. But some of Schmitt’s ideas—or at least their application—are par­tic­u­lar­ly trou­bling even when ful­ly divorced from his per­son­al pol­i­tics. Schmitt the­o­rized that sov­er­eign rulers, or dic­ta­tors, emerge in a “state of exception”—a secu­ri­ty cri­sis with which a demo­c­ra­t­ic soci­ety can­not seem to cope, but which is ripe for exploita­tion by dom­i­neer­ing indi­vid­u­als. These “states” can legit­i­mate­ly appear at any time, or can be ginned up by unscrupu­lous rulers. The cru­cial insight has inspired such left­ist thinkers as Wal­ter Ben­jamin and the­o­rists on the right like Leo Strauss. Its polit­i­cal effects are some­thing alto­geth­er dif­fer­ent. Writes Scott Hor­ton in Harper’s:

It was Schmitt who, as the crown jurist of the new Nazi regime, pro­vid­ed the essen­tial road map for Gle­ich­schal­tung – the lev­el­ing of oppo­si­tion with­in Germany’s vast bureau­cra­cy – and it was he who pro­vid­ed the legal tools used to trans­form the Weimar democ­ra­cy into the Nazi night­mare that fol­lowed it.

This same road map—many have alleged—guided the uni­lat­er­al sus­pen­sions of con­sti­tu­tion­al pro­tec­tions and human rights pro­to­cols machi­nat­ed by Bush and Cheney’s Neo­con­ser­v­a­tive legal advi­sors after 9/11, who read Schmitt thor­ough­ly. (I intend here no direct com­par­i­son what­ev­er between these two regimes, God­win will­ing.)

3. John Locke

Though he wrote copi­ous­ly on epis­te­mol­o­gy, reli­gious tol­er­a­tion, edu­ca­tion, and all sorts of oth­er impor­tant top­ics, Locke is often remem­bered as everyone’s favorite lib­er­al polit­i­cal philoso­pher. His anony­mous­ly pub­lished Two Trea­tis­es of Gov­ern­ment has had an out­sized influ­ence on most mod­ern demo­c­ra­t­ic con­sti­tu­tions, and giv­en his pri­ma­ry antag­o­nist in the first part of that work—Sir Robert Filmer, staunch defend­er of the divine right of kings and nat­ur­al hierarchies—Locke seems pos­i­tive­ly pro­gres­sive, what with his defense of a civ­il soci­ety based on respect for labor and pri­vate prop­er­ty against the unwar­rant­ed pow­er and abuse of the aris­toc­ra­cy.

But Locke’s Filmer works as some­thing of a straw man. Exam­ined crit­i­cal­ly, Locke is no demo­c­ra­t­ic cham­pi­on but an apol­o­gist for the pet­ty tyran­ny of landown­ers who grad­u­al­ly erod­ed the com­mons, dis­placed the com­mon­ers, and seized greater and greater tracts of land in Eng­land and the colonies under the Lock­ean jus­ti­fi­ca­tion that a man is enti­tled to as much prop­er­ty as he can make use of. Of course, in Locke’s time, and in our own, pro­pri­etors and landown­ers seize and “make use of” the resources and labor of others—slaves, indige­nous peo­ple, and exploit­ed, land­less workers—in order to make their extrav­a­gant claims to pri­vate prop­er­ty. This kind of appro­pri­a­tion is also enabled by Locke’s thought, since prop­er­ty only just­ly belongs to the “indus­tri­ous and the ratio­nal”— char­ac­ter­is­tics that tend to get defined against their oppo­sites (“lazy and stu­pid”) in any way that suits those in pow­er.

4. Rene Descartes

Anoth­er dar­ling of Enlight­en­ment tra­di­tion, Descartes gets all the cred­it for found­ing a phi­los­o­phy on rad­i­cal doubt, and there­by doing away with the pre­sup­po­si­tion­al the­o­log­i­cal bag­gage imposed on thought by scholas­tics like Aquinas. And yet, like Locke, Descartes gets too easy a pass for reduc­ing his method to terms that are by no means unequiv­o­cal or uni­ver­sal­ly mean­ing­ful, though he pre­tends that they are.

Descartes explains his method as a means of elim­i­nat­ing from his mind all con­cep­tu­al clut­ter but those ideas that seem to him “clear and dis­tinct.” Odd­ly the two bedrock con­cepts he’s left with are an unshake­able faith in his own indi­vid­ual ego—or soul—and the exis­tence of a monothe­is­tic cre­ator-God. Thus, Descartes’ method of rad­i­cal doubt leads him to reaf­firm the two most core con­cepts of clas­si­cal West­ern phi­los­o­phy, con­cepts he more or less assumes on the basis of intuition—or per­haps unex­am­ined ide­o­log­i­cal com­mit­ments.

5. Søren Kierkegaard

This is a tough one, because I actu­al­ly adore Kierkegaard, but I love him as a writer, not as a philoso­pher. His cri­tiques of Hegel are scathing and hilar­i­ous, his take­downs of the self-sat­is­fied Dan­ish petit-bour­geoisie are epic, and the tonal range and iron­ic deft­ness of his numer­ous lit­er­ary voices—personae as diverse as desert saints and schem­ing seducers—are unequalled.

But I recoil from the eth­i­cal phi­los­o­phy of Søren Kierkegaard, as so many peo­ple recoil from Nietzsche’s brinks­man­ship with tra­di­tion­al Chris­t­ian moral­i­ty. Kierkegaard’s reduc­tion of the human expe­ri­ence to a false choice paradigm—“Either/Or”—, his ethics of blind irra­tional­ism couched as a jus­ti­fi­able leap of faith, exem­pli­fied by his glo­ri­fi­ca­tion of Abraham’s will­ing­ness to kill his son Isaac… these things I can’t help but find abhor­rent, and if I’ve ever been tempt­ed to read them as iron­ic expres­sions of the author’s many masks, fur­ther study has robbed me of this balm. Kierkegaard the writer offers us a great deal; Kierkegaard the moral philoso­pher, not so much.

 

So there you have my list—riddled, to be sure, with inac­cu­ra­cies, prej­u­dice, and super­fi­cial mis­read­ings, but an hon­est attempt nonethe­less, giv­en my inad­e­quate philo­soph­i­cal train­ing. Again I’ll say that the inclu­sion of any of these five names in a list of philoso­phers, per­ni­cious or no, means that I believe they are all thinkers worth read­ing and tak­ing seri­ous­ly to some degree, even if one vio­lent­ly dis­agrees with them or finds glar­ing and griev­ous error in the midst of seas of bril­liance.

Now that you’ve read my “Five Most Per­ni­cious Philoso­phers,” please tell us read­ers, who are yours, and why? Your grip­ing expla­na­tions can be as short or long as you see fit, and feel free to vio­lent­ly dis­agree with my hasty judg­ments above. Ad hominem attacks aside, it’s all with­in the spir­it of the enter­prise.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy, from 600 B.C.E. to 1935, Visu­al­ized in Two Mas­sive, 44-Foot High Dia­grams

Take First-Class Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es Any­where with Free Oxford Pod­casts

Down­load 90 Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es and Start Liv­ing the Exam­ined Life

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness.

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