Wars of Consilience
It occurred to me that, perhaps, the reason that I have such difficulty settling upon a proper scientific or intellectual interest is that I am effectively trying to force an attitude perhaps better described as 'wisdom' or 'contemplation' into the framework of 'science' and 'empirical discovery'. Unfortunately, the common understanding seems to be that these are, and should be different. On one hand, I have a bad habit of conflating classes, drawing misleading analogies, or perceiving connections that may or may no be. On the other hand, I am discovering that I am not wrong nearly as often as I thought I was.
Perhaps our sciences and our religions are simply too primitive to unite, and truly commune in the labor of illuminating the human mind.
If wisdom doesn't inform our science, what good is it? Without wisdom, our science is nothing more than an empty manipulation of a cold and lifeless world, mere puppetry.
Without science, what good is our art, or our life of the spirit? Without true rigor and genuine curiosity, we have nothing more than insubstantial visions, illusions and fantasies, mere self-indulgence.
What is the place for me? I still can't really say. Even so, it begins to look less and less like any of the commonly conceived places in the world can ever truly be mine, no matter how great my skill in emotional ascesis or self-contortion. No one can say that I haven't tried.
I am vaguely monstrous, even to myself.
Perhaps our sciences and our religions are simply too primitive to unite, and truly commune in the labor of illuminating the human mind.
If wisdom doesn't inform our science, what good is it? Without wisdom, our science is nothing more than an empty manipulation of a cold and lifeless world, mere puppetry.
Without science, what good is our art, or our life of the spirit? Without true rigor and genuine curiosity, we have nothing more than insubstantial visions, illusions and fantasies, mere self-indulgence.
What is the place for me? I still can't really say. Even so, it begins to look less and less like any of the commonly conceived places in the world can ever truly be mine, no matter how great my skill in emotional ascesis or self-contortion. No one can say that I haven't tried.
I am vaguely monstrous, even to myself.