hermeneutics abound
Though I've meaningless degree under my belt, I'm not entirely done with school - I still have one paper out for a class I took last Spring! I thought I would finish it in France while sipping world class espresse but that idea turned out to be a complete dud. I can never get any work done ever; it's hopeless i tell ya!
I'm not sure if there's anything i can do about the incomplete since the deadline was at the beginning of January. It's going to be a ridiculous amount of work since I have to brush up on the reading and remind myself of the argument I had labored to make while trying not to kill myself from the inumerable cups of coffee I will be consuming.
anyway, I think it was something about invoking Cezanne's apple to introduce a Pomo orientation of seeing where I pretend to know what Merleau-Ponty, Deleuze, and a whole slew of continental philosophers are saying. but what I find disconcerting is that the fate of my paper will rest with a fascist. i will have no choice but to retreat into the apocalyptic world of german thought. Heidegger, I am at your mercy, fallen on my knees groveling for life!
so in a desperate effort to keep sane, rescue the paper and myself from this nazi, I will be looking to Dreyfus to guide me out of this dark, dank abyssal space. my head will be an asylum for crazed thought, and I no doubt will go mad for situating the paper in a Heideggarian tradition, somehow relating it to something hermeneutic-ey as postualted by Gadamer's art thing. Paul Ricoeur would be useful here as an anti-psychotic prescription for Heidegger. Derrida as well.
i can't even pretend to sound smart. I'll just have to go mad...why, this is a classic move to obfuscate the fact that I haven't a clue as to what the ruckus around hermeneutics is really about. pathetic me.
So my paper is superficial at the very best. I think its perfectly healthy to assess all knowledge and scholarship as superficial if man is regarded in such ways that displace him from ahhh, but that's getting at something else entirely. to return to my rant, my paper doesn't exactly perform a thorough discussion on "understanding" muchless any sort of inquiry into understanding anything. so, I'm royally screwed considering that I've no ground from which to work with as I haven't been formally indoctrinated into this sort of thinking and these works and by golly without a scholar to help me decrypt Heidegger. alas, im doomed. mein gott!
But to best invoke Filipe, in rolls the fog machine. thats the problem with a lot of these troublemakers who subvert and turn the world as we know it on its head, so that everything from this point on become opaque. clarity is never the protagonist in critical thought. or perhaps I'm merely incapable of such thought. But the fact that the department would even allow me to commit such blasphemy shows how absolutely shallow, inane, and without merit Berkeley's rhetoric program is. Judith Butler, your scholarly reign while supreme can't alone hold down the kingdom!
well, let's face it; it's not quite a discipline, more an art; or in the words of Wintroub just some bullshit. but quite the bullshit, that never fails to poke and probe at the very surface of critical theory till something other is cracked. well, I should have wracked my brains around Philosophy instead and let it imbue some ray of knowledge upon my frail mind. but im neither fit nor do i possess enough mental testosterone to tango with Philosophy. grappling with the methodology alone would murder my humanity. and the ridgid analytical stuff would suck all the happiness from my small life. Philosophy will never let me rest with its sick practices. and philosophers themselves are never peaceful people. but i enjoy having my universe put up against itself--the West undone by its very occidental thought. i quite like it when it disrobes in front of me like a vulnerable thing. well, but in the words of Crazi-Eyez: MOTHAFUCKA what the FUCK!
go rhetoric!
I'm not sure if there's anything i can do about the incomplete since the deadline was at the beginning of January. It's going to be a ridiculous amount of work since I have to brush up on the reading and remind myself of the argument I had labored to make while trying not to kill myself from the inumerable cups of coffee I will be consuming.
anyway, I think it was something about invoking Cezanne's apple to introduce a Pomo orientation of seeing where I pretend to know what Merleau-Ponty, Deleuze, and a whole slew of continental philosophers are saying. but what I find disconcerting is that the fate of my paper will rest with a fascist. i will have no choice but to retreat into the apocalyptic world of german thought. Heidegger, I am at your mercy, fallen on my knees groveling for life!
so in a desperate effort to keep sane, rescue the paper and myself from this nazi, I will be looking to Dreyfus to guide me out of this dark, dank abyssal space. my head will be an asylum for crazed thought, and I no doubt will go mad for situating the paper in a Heideggarian tradition, somehow relating it to something hermeneutic-ey as postualted by Gadamer's art thing. Paul Ricoeur would be useful here as an anti-psychotic prescription for Heidegger. Derrida as well.
i can't even pretend to sound smart. I'll just have to go mad...why, this is a classic move to obfuscate the fact that I haven't a clue as to what the ruckus around hermeneutics is really about. pathetic me.
So my paper is superficial at the very best. I think its perfectly healthy to assess all knowledge and scholarship as superficial if man is regarded in such ways that displace him from ahhh, but that's getting at something else entirely. to return to my rant, my paper doesn't exactly perform a thorough discussion on "understanding" muchless any sort of inquiry into understanding anything. so, I'm royally screwed considering that I've no ground from which to work with as I haven't been formally indoctrinated into this sort of thinking and these works and by golly without a scholar to help me decrypt Heidegger. alas, im doomed. mein gott!
But to best invoke Filipe, in rolls the fog machine. thats the problem with a lot of these troublemakers who subvert and turn the world as we know it on its head, so that everything from this point on become opaque. clarity is never the protagonist in critical thought. or perhaps I'm merely incapable of such thought. But the fact that the department would even allow me to commit such blasphemy shows how absolutely shallow, inane, and without merit Berkeley's rhetoric program is. Judith Butler, your scholarly reign while supreme can't alone hold down the kingdom!
well, let's face it; it's not quite a discipline, more an art; or in the words of Wintroub just some bullshit. but quite the bullshit, that never fails to poke and probe at the very surface of critical theory till something other is cracked. well, I should have wracked my brains around Philosophy instead and let it imbue some ray of knowledge upon my frail mind. but im neither fit nor do i possess enough mental testosterone to tango with Philosophy. grappling with the methodology alone would murder my humanity. and the ridgid analytical stuff would suck all the happiness from my small life. Philosophy will never let me rest with its sick practices. and philosophers themselves are never peaceful people. but i enjoy having my universe put up against itself--the West undone by its very occidental thought. i quite like it when it disrobes in front of me like a vulnerable thing. well, but in the words of Crazi-Eyez: MOTHAFUCKA what the FUCK!
go rhetoric!