Is the situation so uncommon, then, in which philosophy itself forbids one to philosophize?
Or so asked Georg Lichtenberg, as well he might have. I have checked out but not yet begun to read, as it's waiting on my completion or giving up on of The Sources of the Self, which if good for nothing else at least has an interesting bibliography, a book called Ethics without Philosophy, which appears chiefly to be focussed on Wittgenstein with some Heidegger coming in towards the end. But I seem to have hit upon a digression before getting properly underway on my ingression, as I meant to note that while reading TSotS in an overpriced, uncomfortable, and yet nearly always packed, not infrequently with me among those packing, café, I was overcome by the influence of Demon Instrospection, appropriately enough given that I was reading a chapter about Montaigne and self-examination. And so I was going to write a big NAVEL GAZEY POST W00!
While, in the past, I have claimed that oen goes to grad school to find out if one wants to go to grad school, that was a bit of a misrepresentation; really, as I knew then too, and even before I arrived here, one, if one is I, goes to grad school knowing that one wants to go, and knowing that that's a bad situation, but wondering: how did one come to be in this queer state, anyway, and is there anything to be done about it? That is: one goes to grad school, knowing that it's too late not to want to go, to figure out, from some kind of morbid curiosity, why one wants to go—well … how did I get here? The result of this is that most of what I actually am interested is of primarily personal interest, and that interest has moreover a somewhat therapeutic character. Each of the last two papers I've written which I think were actually pretty good has basically said, of different philosophers, [this] philosophy just messes you up; this is something that continues a theme that I've been, well, to say I've been thinking about it for three years or so carries too much of an implication of having done anything more than worry at the same basic thought without exploring the issues involved in any sort of depth, so let's just say that I've beene worrying, etc, for about that span of time. (After reading the last note here I was, after first being quite pleased (especially since he really didn't have to do that), quite puzzled: what could I possibly have said? But eventually I decided it must have been the age-old hobby horse about authenticity (perhaps in its incarnation as a discussion about pretention).) Now that I'm finally writing about it it's quite odd; one doesn't really want to include anything personal, because that's really simply not the done thing, but that is, after all, the reason I actually want to right them and feel that it's important—not for anyone else to know (because then they too would be untimely spoilt!) but simply on my own account.
Fortunately I overheard from another in the dept. a description of a sketch from an unaired episode of Chapelle's Show I was able to use as motivation in a proposal for a paper, and so was able to pretend that I, personally, took a merely academic interest in the subject. Though if the interest were merely academic, I'd doubtless be doing something else right now.
It's really too bad this thing isn't pseudonymous. The real secret motivation for this post is having gone to dc and spent time with a bunch of people all of whom seem (by the infallible principle that everyone enjoys exactly what I want to, effortlessly, but I specifically have been locked out) to have a nonnegligible group of friends, and actual lives not tyrannized by the constant suspicion that really one ought to be working, and generally be in pretty cool spots. (I'm so perspicacious. There couldn't possibly have been anything not good, right? Surely nothing at all was exceptional.) Whereas the number of people with whom I regularly, or even occasionally, associate in extraacademic contexts here is … small, and my time is mostly spent either at school, at home, or at one of two cafés reading or playing chess (always with the same partner). I could try blaming this on geography, but then I recall that my last year in Chicago, the only people I met were friends and associates of my then-girlfriend's. I barely spent any time with my coworkers, who were really pretty cool. So now, having come back from an awesome weekend, everything seems much worse here.
The immediately superior paragraph is connected to those superior to it, no lie, but I'm not sure if that's obvious or not. I have, anyway, decided on what to read while awaiting the return of Arnold Hitler: Religio Medici, which I haven't read in a while. It seems profligate to reread something with so much unread, but I already reread Titus Groan at the beginning of the winter break, so why not?
Comments
on 2007-01-03 4:02:44.0, standpipe commented:
Fraught.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 7:30:05.0, text commented:
The issue is not, philosophize or do some other thing in a cubicle, but rather, make friends or not make them. And I think you have demonstrated, yes, make them. And then, when in a new place, make others. And then, when you visit old friends, do not behave poorly. This I say though I have done quite the opposite lately.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 7:36:17.0, text commented:
the tyrannical suspicion that one ought to be working is not limited to the academy, is what I mean. but maybe there's something about doing philosophy that lends one to be antisocial, overly introspective.
this is not the place for writing such things. I should think up a pun.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 7:48:08.0, Matt F commented:
It seems profligate to reread something with so much unread, but I already reread Titus Groan at the beginning of the winter break, so why not?
This argument intrigues me.
You and I are not so different, it seems.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 9:24:14.0, Matt Weiner commented:
I think you at least corrected some typos. Though discussions are always appreciated -- haven't we had many discussions about intention that could be relevant?
Another important thing is not to think that interactions with those you know in non-extraacademic ways somehow don't count.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 9:55:54.0, bitchphd commented:
I seem to recall telling you that grad school would make you (more) neurotic. See?
(Also, Matt, where the hell were you?)
and, further, on 2007-01-03 10:03:09.0, ben wolfson commented:
this is not the place for writing such things. I should think up a pun.
Yeah, me too.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 10:05:35.0, bitchphd commented:
Join the feminists and start talking about the personal stuff in connection with the academic. It'll make the world a better place, I promise.
and, further, on 2007-01-03 0:02:23.0, heebie_geebie commented:
One goes to grad school because it feels so good when you stop.
Although I couldn't have my job, which I love, if I hadn't stuck it out.
The best thing about finishing grad school is shaking off some of the chronic, deep-seated guilt that you should always, always, be working.