Category: metaphysics
Quotes of Category: metaphysics
Ο Μπρόιερ προσπάθησε να αποτινάξει το θάνατο απ' το μυαλό του. Μουρμούρισε το αγαπημένο του ξόρκι, τη φράση του Λουκρητίου: «Όπου είναι ο θάνατος, εγώ δεν είμαι. Όπου είμαι εγώ, ο θάνατος δεν είναι. Γιατί ν' ανησυχώ;» Αλλ' αυτό δεν βοήθησε.
Τίναξε το κεφάλι του, προσπαθώντας να διώξει αυτές τις μακάβριες σκέψεις. Από που του είχαν έρθει; Απ' την κουβέντα για το θάνατο που έκανε με τον Νίτσε; Όχι, μάλλον δεν του τις έβαλε ο Νίτσε στο μυαλό, απλώς τις απελευθέρωσε. Πάντα ήταν εκεί. Όλες τις είχε ξανασκεφτεί. Σε ποια περιοχή του μυαλού του όμως κατοικούσαν, όταν δεν τις σκεφτόταν; Ο Φρόυντ είχε δίκιο: πρέπει να υπάρχει μια δεξαμενή σύνθετων σκέψεων στον εγκέφαλο, πέρα απ' τη συνείδηση, αλλά σε ετοιμότητα, έτοιμες οποιαδήποτε στιγμή να κληθούν να παρελάσουν στη σκηνή της συνειδητότητας.
Και σ' αυτή τη μη συνειδητή δεξαμενή, δεν θα υπάρχουν μόνο σκέψεις, αλλά και συναισθήματα! Πριν λίγες μέρες, μέσ' απ' το αμάξι του, ο Μπρόιερ κοίταξε το διπλανό αμάξι. Τα δυό του άλογα τριπόδιζαν τραβώντας πίσω τους την καρότσα, που μέσα της κάθονταν δυο επιβάτες, ένα σκυθρωπό ηλικιωμένο ζευγάρι. Όμως δεν υπήρχε αμαξάς. Ένα αμάξι φάντασμα! Ο τρόμος τον τύφλωσε, κι είχε μια στιγμιαία εφίδρωση: τα ρούχα του μέσα σε δευτερόλεπτα έγιναν μούσκεμα. Κι έπειτα φάνηκε ο οδηγός του αμαξιού: είχε απλώς σκύψει για να δέσει την μπότα του.
Στην αρχή ο Μπρόιερ είχε γελάσει με την ανόητη αντίδρασή του. Αλλά όσο περισσότερο τη σκεφτόταν, τόσο συνειδητοποιούσε ότι, όσο ορθολογιστής κι ελεύθερος διανοητής κι αν ήταν, στο μυαλό του όμως κρύβονταν φωλιές υπερφυσικού τρόμου. Κι όχι πολύ βαθιά: «εφημέρευαν», βρίσκονταν δευτερόλεπτα μακριά απ' την επιφάνεια. Α, να υπήρχε μια λαβίδα να ξεριζώσει αυτές τις φωλιές, σαν τις αμυγδαλές! book-quoterationalismmetaphysicsThe most perfect and satisfactory knowledge is that of perception but this is limited to the absolutely particular, to the individual. The comprehension of the many and the various into *one* representation is possible only through the *concept*, in other words, by omitting the differences; consequently, the concept is a very imperfect way of representing things. The particular, of course, can also be apprehended immediately as a universal, namely when it is raised to the {Platonic} *Idea*; but in this process, which I have analysed in the third book, the intellect passes beyond the limits of individuality and therefore of time; moreover, this is only an exception.These inner and essential imperfections of the intellect are further increased by a disturbance to some extent external to it but yet inevitable, namely, the influence that the *will* exerts on all its operations, as soon as that will is in any way concerned in their result. Every passion, in fact every inclination or disinclination, tinges the objects of knowledge with its colour. Most common of occurrence is the falsification of knowledge brought about by desire and hope, since they show us the scarcely possible in dazzling colours as probable and well-nigh certain, and render us almost incapable of comprehending what is opposed to it. Fear acts in a similar way; every preconceived opinion, every partiality, and, as I have said, every interest, every emotion, and every predilection of the will act in an analogous manner philosophywillintellectontologyIn consequence of the inevitably scattered and fragmentary nature of our thinking, which has been mentioned, and of the mixing together of the most heterogeneous representations thus brought about and inherent even in the noblest human mind, we really possess only *half a consciousness*. With this we grope about in the labyrinth of our life and in the obscurity of our investigations; bright moments illuminate our path like flashes of lighting. But what is to be expected generally from heads of which even the wisest is every night the playground of the strangest and most senseless dreams, and has to take up its meditations again on emerging from these dreams? Obviously a consciousness subject to such great limitations is little fitted to explore and fathom the riddle of the world; and to beings of a higher order, whose intellect did not have time as its form, and whose thinking therefore had true completeness and unity, such an endeavor would necessarily appear strange and pitiable. In fact, it is a wonder that we are not completely confused by the extremely heterogeneous mixture of fragments of representations and of ideas of every kind which are constantly crossing one another in our heads, but that we are always able to find our way again, and to adapt and adjust everything. Obviously there must exist a simple thread on which everything is arranged side by side: but what is this? Memory alone is not enough, since it has essential limitations of which I shall shortly speak; moreover, it is extremely imperfect and treacherous. The *logical ego*, or even the *transcendental synthetic unity of apperception*, are expressions and explanations that will not readily serve to make the matter comprehensible; on the contrary, it will occur to many that"Your wards are deftly wrought, but drive no bolts asunder. ontologymetaphysicsphilosophical-anthropologysaelfIn the pragmatist, streetwise climate of advanced postmodern capitalism, with its scepticism of big pictures and grand narratives, its hard-nosed disenchantment with the metaphysical, 'life' is one among a whole series of discredited totalities. We are invited to think small rather than big – ironically, at just the point when some of those out to destroy Western civilization are doing exactly the opposite. In the conflict between Western capitalism and radical Islam, a paucity of belief squares up to an excess of it. The West finds itself faced with a full-blooded metaphysical onslaught at just the historical point that it has, so to speak, philosophically disarmed. As far as belief goes, postmodernism prefers to travel light: it has beliefs, to be sure, but it does not have faith. book-quotelifereligionbelief
