Derridians: Derrida is engaged in a radical project that challenges the foundations of western thought and rationality.
Anti-Derridians: *react badly*
Derridians: I, for one, do not understand why anyone could be offended or worried about this
This is a fair point.
IME, though, the 'reacting badly' tends to involve dismissing Derrida as a hack and people who take him seriously as gullible. The concern is not that there might be any substance to his claims, the concern is that other people might take the claims seriously, so mockery is deployed in lieu of serious discussion.
Derridians: Derrida is engaged in a radical project that challenges the foundations of western thought and rationality.
Anti-Derridians: *react badly*
Derridians: I, for one, do not understand why anyone could be offended or worried about this
This is a fair point.
IME, though, the 'reacting badly' tends to involve dismissing Derrida as a hack and people who take him seriously as gullible. The concern is not that there might be any substance to his claims, the concern is that other people might take the claims seriously, so mockery is deployed in lieu of serious discussion.
I mean you can defend Derrida, but you don't have to act so surprised.
Within certain humanities departments, Derrida's claims are treated as rather basic, not so much that you'd be daft to disagree but enough that disagreeing is seen as a fairly ambitious undertaking.
When you're accustomed to poststructuralist thought, it can be rather jarring to encounter people to whom deconstruction is not only not evident, but disturbing or ridiculous.
Come to think of it, these people would probably be quite shocked to learn that much of the history they take for granted really isn't cemented in anything approaching the kind of certainty you have in math or physics. Assuming they know much history at all, i mean. You just don't have that kind of data on stuff that happened so far in the past.
Relatedly i've noticed Sokaloids tend to be much more positive towards history, or at least more accepting of it as a serious field, than they are with the rest of the humanities, despite the not hugely dissimilar methodology involved.
IVAN ILYCH SAW that he was dying, and he was in continual despair.
In the depth of his heart he knew he was dying, but not only was he not accustomed to the thought, he simply did not and could not grasp it.
The syllogism he had learnt from Kiesewetter’s Logic: “Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal,” had always seemed to him correct as applied to Caius, butcertainly not as applied to himself. That Caius — man in the abstract — was mortal, was perfectly correct, but he was not Caius, not an abstract man, but a creature quite, quite separate from all others. He had been little Vanya, with a mamma and a papa, with Mitya and Volodya, with the toys, a coachman and a nurse, afterwards with Katenka and will all the joys, griefs, and delights of childhood, boyhood, and youth. What did Caius know of the smell of that striped leather ball Vanya had been so fond of? Had Caius kissed his mother’s hand like that, and did the silk of her dress rustle so for Caius? Had he rioted like that at school when the pastry was bad? Had Caius been in love like that? Could Caius preside at a session as he did? “Caius really was mortal, and it was right for him to die; but for me, little Vanya, Ivan Ilych, with all my thoughts and emotions, it’s altogether a different matter. It cannot be that I ought to die. That would be too terrible.”
Such was his feeling.
“If I had to die like Caius I would have known it was so. An inner voice would have told me so, but there was nothing of the sort in me and I and all my friends felt that our case was quite different from that of Caius. and now here it is!” he said to himself. “It can’t be. It’s impossible! But here it is. How is this? How is one to understand it?”
One time when I was...I dunno, 5 or 6, an encyclopedia salesperson was actually at our house trying to sell my parents one. And I was all "oh yes, let's get this!" and they were all "well maybe when you're older".
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
My grandparents have an old 1970s-era World Book encyclopedia.
When my family would visit them as a kid, I would sit around and browse them at random while the grownups talked.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
The only encyclopedia I had at home as a kid was Encarta
Which is to say, not a print encyclopedia, but a pair of CD-ROMs
These were the days when using the Internet meant tying up your phone line with a slow-ass 56K connection, so the idea of an online digital encyclopedia never even occurred to me
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Today I learned the US Air Force has a Linux distro called "Lightweight Portable Security" that's inexplicably themed to look like Windows XP:
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
I want you all to know that I could have said something really snippy and started something that hurt everyone's feelings but I didn't and I'm going to leave now.
I want you all to know that I could have said something really snippy and started something that hurt everyone's feelings but I didn't and I'm going to leave now.
Comments
IME, though, the 'reacting badly' tends to involve dismissing Derrida as a hack and people who take him seriously as gullible. The concern is not that there might be any substance to his claims, the concern is that other people might take the claims seriously, so mockery is deployed in lieu of serious discussion.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
When you're accustomed to poststructuralist thought, it can be rather jarring to encounter people to whom deconstruction is not only not evident, but disturbing or ridiculous.
It's not like Modal Realism or Radical Translation is not weird as fuck, Analytics.
Click this and learn the shocking truth, that's what they seemed to want to say.
Soon they'll have to assume Hannibal didn't exist. After that is Holocaust denial.
Socrates is mortal.
Therefore, all men are Socrates.
Warning - Aliroz, i do not recommend watching this! It will probably make you angry.
or a big part of it, anyway
despair.
only was he not accustomed to the thought, he simply did
not and could not grasp it.
“Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal,”
had always seemed to him correct as applied to Caius, butcertainly not as applied to himself. That Caius — man in the
abstract — was mortal, was perfectly correct, but he was not
Caius, not an abstract man, but a creature quite, quite separate
from all others. He had been little Vanya, with a mamma
and a papa, with Mitya and Volodya, with the toys, a coachman
and a nurse, afterwards with Katenka and will all the
joys, griefs, and delights of childhood, boyhood, and youth.
What did Caius know of the smell of that striped leather ball
Vanya had been so fond of? Had Caius kissed his mother’s
hand like that, and did the silk of her dress rustle so for Caius?
Had he rioted like that at school when the pastry was bad?
Had Caius been in love like that? Could Caius preside at a
session as he did? “Caius really was mortal, and it was right
for him to die; but for me, little Vanya, Ivan Ilych, with all
my thoughts and emotions, it’s altogether a different matter.
It cannot be that I ought to die. That would be too terrible.”
An inner voice would have told me so, but there was nothing
of the sort in me and I and all my friends felt that our case
was quite different from that of Caius. and now here it is!” he said to himself. “It can’t be. It’s impossible! But here it is.
How is this? How is one to understand it?”
An encyclopedia, free and constantly updated, so you could look up anything at all at the click of a mouse.
Dammit.
One time when I was...I dunno, 5 or 6, an encyclopedia salesperson was actually at our house trying to sell my parents one. And I was all "oh yes, let's get this!" and they were all "well maybe when you're older".
But the death of print encyclopedias is a hefty price to pay.
When my family would visit them as a kid, I would sit around and browse them at random while the grownups talked.
That was a lot of fun.
Please wait another 45 minutes.
Thanks,
Central Avenue
Which is to say, not a print encyclopedia, but a pair of CD-ROMs
These were the days when using the Internet meant tying up your phone line with a slow-ass 56K connection, so the idea of an online digital encyclopedia never even occurred to me
this concludes yntkt theater
Damn.
I thought that was mildly amusing
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead