Reviews and Comments

The point I disagree the most with Wishart is that I don't consider sound per se as interesting, and I don't quite understand why Wishart values perceptual reality this much. There's a burning desire in me to "hear", say, Pontragin duality - and that has nothing to do with any perceptual reality. Let's think about the history of mathematics. Before around the time of Riemann, mathematics was really just about properties of numbers, about finding roots of certain equations, etc. This for me is profoundly boring so that I wasn't interested in mathematics at all when I hadn't learn abstract algebra and didn't know what topology is. Now we more or less know that mathematics is a general science of structure and mechanism, the most general science of abstract synthesis. It now seemingly has nothing to do with number at all - though factually in the deeper levels they're still connected. Similarly, music for me is never about sound per se, or about organization of sounds. It's the most general art of abstract synthesis. What this term "art of abstract synthesis" means I don't know, but for me music is very mathematical and mathematics is very musical. Focusing on sound per se, or on the permutations of sounds, for me is like focusing on numbers per se, or on the algebraic equations. The point, for me, is the landscapes of sounds, the general morphology of these landscapes, and the interaction between the landscapes, and more. This all sound extremely abstract, but I don't know whether there's a better way to put it. Let's start with the most primitive process of abstraction and synthesis (note that synthesis here is not sound synthesis but synthesis in the Kantian sense). For example, the context of additive synthesis is a landscape of sounds. What I want to hear is not a particular synthesized sound, but the very process of additive synthesis, this may be called the "morphology" of the landscape of additive synthesis. Additive synthesis maybe continuously produce individual sounds, and these sounds form a new landscape, the landscape of synthesized sounds. I want to see the morphology of this landscape of synthesized sounds, and I want also to see its morphogenesis - the interaction between the landscape of addtive synthesis and the landscape of synthesized sounds. Once the landscape of synthesized sounds is integrated (or synthesized in the Kantian sense), it might automatically disintegrate, since the structural or "categorical" element can be abstracted from the concrete landscape, and yield something new. I'd like to first get a concrete grasp of this process (a process not in time but in a general logical/conceptual order). This is very similar to how the study of the natural numbers became the study of algebraic equations, and how the study of algebraic equations became the study of mathematical structures such as group and module. I think I'll need to elaborate more on this line of thought. First, clarify terms such as "the art of abstract synthesis", and then etc.

There are several flaws in this book. We already know this. The theory Graeber and Wengrow put forward has been in vogue for nearly half a century. It's not new and it even is cliched. No one really thinks the analytic constructs of the theories of the State correspond to actual historical truth, not even the original theorizers thought like that. Its influence is another thing. Speaking of influence, the authors again try to conjure up a false categorical connection between how a certain concept emerged, and whether this concept is really in the object that those made heavy use of it. This, coupled with a complete overlooking of medieval history and scholastic developments in the field of jurisprudence, led them to devise a totalizing narrative that while reducing the principle underlying the status quo to contingency, and simultaneously totalize the so-called freedom of the native Americans (ironically just like Rousseau, and even more like Tacitus) as if it itself is not contingent. Everyone with a knowledge of the development and evolution of the concept of state will find the narrative given extremely confused and stupid. History is contingent, but nearly everything is historically conditioned, and this contingency is not something that can be gotten rid of instantly and on a whim. There are too many a-historical and pseudo-historical arguments in the guise of history (similar to the current status of historical studies in humanities). In fact Greber and Wengrow go full totalizing mode and blatantly make noramtive value claims when it comes to the views that they themselves deem right, without actually arguing for that, since they'll find that when they really go on and try to do that, they'll be repeating what the thinkers of the 17th and 18th century said. Furthermore, this book, similar to all other popular, propagandizing, rhetoric-driven book, gives a false impression that history is a simple thing which is more about facts rather than interpretations. Everyone with a minimum real education in any of the humanities will be able to see clearly that what are presented here are not and should not be the final words, but this is not and will not be the case for the general public, who are the majority of the readers of the book. I'm not against the "against totalising state" narrative, but I'm against intellectual confusion and rhetoric devoid of any meaningful content. Pointing out that a community is "imaginary" may give those who fall into the rhetoric a false impression that there must be something real that holds a community together, but they won't stop and try to think about what then is this real thing that holds a community together - it must not be blood I guess. Similarly, the book's narrative never venture toward its almost necessary intellectual conclusion, or rather, it tries to give a conclusion that not at all follows from the archaeological studies etc. presented in it as evidences to something that is vague and in itself imaginary.

Milbank's position seems to me an absurd mixture of insightful, sane observation and bizarre and unintelligible hostility toward a tradition that he calls "Scotist". This largely is due to his inability to engage with serious, or even technical, philosophy as a theologian with a cultural bias. When he invokes phrases like "participatory" and "analogia entis" and stresses their essential character, it is never intelligible since these catchwords are merely invoked rather than used in any precise manner: there's no inherent connection that assures only by means of participation can the natural yearning for the supernatural be made possible, and analogia entis has literally nothing to do with the problems under investigation.

And seriously I can't take these theologians who find a fault in the 13th century and condemn a whole 800 years of civilization as fundamentally went astray seriously. Not because I'm a progressive, but solely because historicity cannot be disentangled with truth.

Polemical, but without actual work done, and similar to thinkers he closely associate with, such as Zizek, not at all rigorous and is in a strong sense propagandist.

In general, great theologians, while may not be creative and novel in comparison to philosophers (if philosophers are really, genuinely creative), are far more insightful than philosophers when it is about human soul, perhaps due to their genuine engagement with the world. They're often priests who need to do pastoral works, and this requires deep human understanding. In the case of Catholicism they're often prohibited by their authority to write and teach, which leads them to try to comprehend why themselves are prohibited and genuinely reflect. Further, they need to take responsibility for their actions and their thoughts, unlike intellectuals. Finally, they need to learn to be patient towards stupidity manifested by atheists which is virtually everywhere, in particular from those utterly dogmatic philosophy students who cannot tolerate a simple word "God" but can be so unreasonable that it's nearly torturing. These four factors may prevent theologians from doing those so-called ground-breaking works, but when a theologian is potentially deep in his own soul, these factors endow more profoundity to their depth. They humbly learn, they try to understand, and their moves are often much more complex than intellectuals. They may be revolutionary privately, but they won't be subject to the clutches of hubris. Hence when writing about other people's thought, great theologians are oftentimes surprisingly impartial, charitable, and insightful. When something should be criticized, they criticize, but when criticisms towards their religion is justified, they plainly admit. This move is extremely rare in the case of philosophers. Henri de Lubac was in particular one of the greatest hermenueticians who excelled at isolating out the essential spiritual depth of thoughts. He researched on Buddhism, he didn't avoid Origen, and was an advocate and defender of Teilhard de Chardin's thoughts - while this didn't make him avant-garde or un-orthodox. In his this writing on atheism, one can actually feel the true spiritual profoundness manifest itself.

Creative and spiritual men must realize that there is an ultimate and decisive difference between genius and holiness. Men must learn to recognize the human and the divine spheres. Nothing would do the average intellectual more good than a little reverence for the genuine monk. Such reverence is a recognition of the indestructible independence of the spirit. Without a degree of asceticism no spiritual activity can prosper. This asceticism should be a characteristic of the new ‘monk’ who lives in the world and is open to it. It is the image and reflection of that other, higher asceticism in which everything “human” is given to receive everything “divine”. This sacred exchange is not ridiculous, as intellectuals for five hundred years have pretended.

This is better seen in action than by words, and here is that action.