I am introduced to a “genius” philosopher whose work perfectly integrates philosophy and science. “A positivist?” Negative. And, according to the genius, currents like existentialism are pseudo-philosophy. My smile is automatic. I am, in fact, on great days: thanks to Pessoa, I have devoted several hundred pages to astrology. I believe, however, that the genius philosopher will not take me the time to read a summary. It is glaringly obvious to me: philosophy is only harmonized with science when it ceases to deal with man’s great problems—precisely those that go beyond the scope of science. To integrate philosophy and science is, in a practical way, to mutilate philosophy and ignore the real applicability of science. But I admit: no surprise there. Although “scientific philosophy” is a crude joke, one of those that one does not tell at the dinner table, it is natural that human presumption wants to paste, in all available nouns, the supreme qualitative: this guarantees victory over the past—the very old past…
Category: Notes
An Ordinary Person Does Not Kill Himself Because of a Mathematical Problem
An ordinary person does not kill himself because of a mathematical problem, nor because he misunderstands thermodynamics. Maybe a physicist does, provided that such a problem, for him, takes on an existential dimension. But the common person, just like the physicist, kills himself after a great financial or affective loss, or after a romantic disappointment. We can see, here, a common trait between both, or a problem that affects both. This problem, exposed in the most varied ways, is the central problem of human existence. And I have to notice, among all the most brilliant minds in history, my predilection for those who were able to see it.
Attraction and Repulsion
I feel, in equal intensity, attraction and repulsion for the academy. It is certainly no place for my species. But I am impressed by the number of brilliant minds that end up being lost in exchange for “integration”. Conventions, protocols, hierarchies… all of this undermining, stifling creativity, in an environment where the possible prize seems to be limited to recognition. To base a life’s work on the hope of applause? a better position, perhaps? It seems fragile. In the end, this path leads to tremendous frustration.
Eight Shots in Ten Seconds!
I have just watched, by chance, ten seconds of a film released this past year. I count an impressive eight shots in this meager interval and immediately think of Andrei Tarkovsky. According to this great artist, the substance of cinema is time, and the filmmaker’s job is to print time on the screen. According to this prudent vision of the seventh art, a work that madly superimposes eight shots in ten seconds is anything but art. It seems to me that cinema, like music, is on its knees before an audience incapable of concentration. The work—and perhaps work is no longer the appropriate word—needs to stimulate, all the time, the adrenaline, needs to deliver instant emotion and generate expectation for a new emotion in the next second, otherwise attention simply disperses, and the audience starts to yawn. No doubt this is a generational trait, and it seems increasingly difficult to shake off this terrible modern reality that resembles this unbearable bombardment of shots.a