goldberg variations

Tonight I as walked along the seashore I couldn't help but wonder what was in that black water. The thought had been planted in my head through the words of a friend; the subsequent introspection a lonely one. It was as if anything could've been out there. What potential look like without act? What does a visible infinity look like? Where can I see such unconcentrated mass without form? The ocean.

Perhaps we can see out there the seeds of new actions, new experiences, and new thoughts. It has come to symbolize the untamed fringes which border our aspirations. It cannot be harnessed, nor can it be ignored to its own devices. But most of all it is ever changing yet the same. As we may or may not step in the same river twice, we certainly may or may not observe the same ocean again. Its presence remains constant correlative to its change. I think that permanent dynamicism of the whole thing is so beautiful.

It lends to a series of paradoxes. Perhaps the ocean is something that is better described and not defined. I don't think I've quite processed the whole experience quite yet but what I saw tonight blew my mind. I couldn't exactly express what was going on and I still can't. Perhaps the whole thing should be passed over in silence until it has been adequately digested.

Anyway, later I began to think about the problem of metaphysics. It is self-evident that many things get lost in modernity and the new worldviews which arise from it. One of the things which has been passed over, ignored, or discarded is metaphysics. Pluralism in its purest sense seems to severely berate the prospect of metaphysics. At its core, modernism is a post-metaphysical enterprise to begin with. If we take seriously those things which divide us as more immediate and valuable than those things which unite us, metaphysics becomes an obstacle to seeing the facts of the visible world head-on. When seen in this way, metaphysical projects become an oppressive cover for an articulation of the prejudices of the "institution", what ever that may be or how ever that may be defined. In its essense, metaphysics betrays the spontinaeity of authentic human living; it is but a historical roadbump to the aspirations of humanity.

But what happens when we remove metaphysics from ethics? In short, chaos. We can no longer qualify our thoughts as based on some objective reality. An immanentist view of the world can be beneficial for many reflections, but it cannot provide protection from social constructs insituted solely for the control of others. No doubt metaphysics has been used as such in the past and can still be manipulated today. Yet, metaphysics offers the possibility of overlapping spheres of consensus which trace their roots to a nebula of ethical principles in proximity.

Metaphysics is not without its problems. As the fonts of first principles, it is unaccessible to human knowledge in any direct state. Just as we cannot conceive of "one" as a singularity in itself without recourse to the phantasms of "one" of a thing, so too we cannot understand metaphysics without reference to some discreet formulation or description thereof. Here, at the end of metaphysics, the narrative of the interpreting community specifies the principles of metaphysics in secondary processions.

Some have made the case that metaphysics and a narrative tradition clash. It is understood that the following bifurcation is necessary, not a contingency of reason: maximalist/universalist - minimalist/particularist. This suggests that we can frame our ethical warrants either in "thick" form, that is, a set of highly specified precepts, laws, and general ideas toward the ethical life which reflect relevancy for the society in question - or we can spread this "thin" and speak in generalities which cover the most bases for the greatest majority of people, who will then go on to specify them themselves for the benefit of their community.

What I react to is not so much this distinction, which I believe in essence is a good one. Rather, I react to the proported incommensurability of the two. I react for two reasons. First, the general limits of metaphysics, and second, the notion of communitarian cosmology.

First, as I have said, metaphysics itself cannot specify what is to hold true for all people at all times in all places. In fact, our understanding of ethics seems to imply a communal reflection which preceeds action but proceeds from principle. In other words, metaphysics derrives syllogisms which end in action. Middle terms here are not the value of the logic; true action is.

Second, where metaphysics and narratives meet, it is possible to see a new reflection of sorts in development. This interface, usually obfuscated from public view and entrusted to higher academics and intellectuals, is where the real rubber meets the road. The result is a cosmology which though in itself cannot bear to impress onto the community nevertheless undergirds what ever duties which have been established or promulgated, namely, in law.

Thus, I understand metaphysics and narrative to be interdependent and not exclusive. There is no such thing as pure metaphysic nor is there such a thing as pure culture or narrative. The relation between both is not linear nor measurable. Rather, one continually transforms the other, deeply and completely. This cannot be understood as a chronological phenomenon, although the logic of exchange could be reduced. What is going on is a dynamic indwelling. We cannot pour two equal parts of water together and claim that one part has subsumed the other. Rather, we say that the two join together are now a one and only singularity of truth, the absolute of which can be determined by an attempt to separate them. Quite impossible, to be sure. And yet, we know conceptually that one begins somewhere and the other begins another. But at this level the interface as been broken. There is only one singularity. There is only one substance, one essence. And for our purposes, the boundaries of metaphysics have been both subsumed and exalted by a narrative tradition - and vice versa.

This theory assumes much and claims little. Given this fact, to accept it would seem elementary but would be sufficiently contrary to our current understanding of the fonts and roots of ethical discourse. If I were able to pull this off it might earn me a pretty penny or two.

And see? All of this goes back to my experience of the ocean. A single drop within the ocean is absurd; only in isolation can be name it as such. But once it is taken out of the ocean, do we ascribe the name of "ocean" to that single drop? Of course not. Likewise, when we remove metaphysics from the narrative or the narrative from the metaphysics, ought we to call that a sufficient ocean of ethical warrant in itself? Our rationality seems to imply that we cannot.

Who ever knew staring at a glass of water for a few minutes encouraged new grounds for reflection?