April 16th, 2014
the worker in the field of philosophy, especially pure philosophy (logic and metaphysics), must hold his object hanging in midair before him, and must always describe and examine it, not merely part by part, but within the totality of a system as well (the system of pure reason). Hence it is not surprising if metaphysicians are incapacitated sooner than scholars in other fields or in applied philosophy. (…)
Post Scriptum (…): (I lost the sight in my left eye some five years ago) (…) It is also curious that one can lose the sight in one eye without noticing it (I estimate the period, with regard to my left eye, at about three years).
Kant, The Conflict of the Faculties (end) - weirdly using this classic metaphor to describe his work of metaphysician (check out the etymology of “theory” - that’s it) while telling the reader he is left unable to see properly — It’s either a bad coincidence, either a way to professionally put one foot in the grave…
April 12th, 2014
We lived together under one roof, but my parents and sister were like strangers to me, and I had no idea what they wanted from life. And the same held true for them - they didn’t have any idea what kind of person I was or what I aspired to. Not that I knew what I wanted in life - I didn’t. I love reading novels to distraction, but didn’t write well enough to be a novelist; being an editor or a critic was out, too, since my personal tastes ran to extremes. Novels should be for pure personal enjoyment, I decided, not part of your work or study. That’s why I didn’t study literature, but history. I didn’t have any special interest in history, but once I began studying it I found it an engrossing subject. I didn’t plan to go to grad school and devote my life to history or anything, though my adviser did suggest that. I enjoyed reading and thinking, but I was hardly the academic type. As Pushkin put it: He had no itch to dig for glories / Deep in the dirt that time has laid. All of which didn’t mean I was about to find a job in a normal company, claw my way through the cut-throat competition, and advance step by step up the slippery slopes of the capitalist pyramid.
So by a process of elimination, I ended up a teacher. The school is only a few stations away by train. (…)I hadn’t planned on being a teacher, but after I actually became one I discovered a deeper respect and affection for the profession than I ever imagined I’d have. More accurately, really, I should say that I happened to discover myself.
I’d stand at the front of the classroom, teaching my primary-school charges basic facts about language, life, the world, and I’d find that at the same time I was teaching myself these basic facts all over again - filtered through the eyes and minds of these children. Done the right way, this was a refreshing experience. Profound, even. I got along well with my pupils, their mothers, and my fellow teachers.
Still the basic questions tugged at me: Who am I? What am I searching for? Where am I going?
Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

Etymological ponderation while taking an hour-long bath:

The word "phrase", when used in english, means the same as the word "sentence" used in french. (a proverbial expression)
The word "phrase", when used in french, means the same as the word "sentence" used in english. (a set of words complete in itself)

And I presume I’ll never figure out why this etymological chiasmus…

April 11th, 2014

List of papers I have to write soon :

- an introduction and a critical view about zoomusicology (philosophy of music)
- a dissertation about ageing & philosophy (pragmatism & perfectionism)
- a report of a lecture by a historian specialized in entomological illustrations of the XVIIth century (history of sciences)
- a paper about the aesthetic value of some animals (based on Portmann’s work) (aesthetics)
- and a dissertation about…something concerning the notion of “living”. Still don’t know how to problematize it. (present philosophy)

April 10th, 2014
Yesterday, I had to bike to the Eiffel Tower, enter for free in the Musée du Quai Branly (dedicated to african, australian, american and asian various cultures), and spend the day listening to interesting anthropological lectures. I even had a bottle of fruit juice for free, and had a splendid lunchtime with a bunch of sparrows. This one has been rolling in the red-dusty ground. Coincidentally, I have a paper to write about zoomusicology, so listening to them singing was actually a homework.
Today, I attend a lecture with Michel Serres.
And saturday my holiday-time begins. :)
(but friday - tomorrow! - I have to speak seriously with my tutor about my “memoir”…though I’m still undecided about a what I want to study for this big work)

Yesterday, I had to bike to the Eiffel Tower, enter for free in the Musée du Quai Branly (dedicated to african, australian, american and asian various cultures), and spend the day listening to interesting anthropological lectures. I even had a bottle of fruit juice for free, and had a splendid lunchtime with a bunch of sparrows. This one has been rolling in the red-dusty ground. Coincidentally, I have a paper to write about zoomusicology, so listening to them singing was actually a homework.
Today, I attend a lecture with Michel Serres.
And saturday my holiday-time begins. :)
(but friday - tomorrow! - I have to speak seriously with my tutor about my “memoir”…though I’m still undecided about a what I want to study for this big work)

April 9th, 2014

In S02xE03 of Six Feet Under, Claire is shown watching Badlands…and then proves that not every red-haired girl infatuated with some bad boy makes the wrong decisions concerning legal consequences of their actions. Cool.

March 29th, 2014
If (after a few watchings) you’ve not laughed at least once when Brody raises his eyebrows then I diagnose you with a wittgensteinian blindness of aspect. (it’s exactly the same kind of humor as in the Darjeeling Limited when he says “I didn’t save mine”)

If (after a few watchings) you’ve not laughed at least once when Brody raises his eyebrows then I diagnose you with a wittgensteinian blindness of aspect. (it’s exactly the same kind of humor as in the Darjeeling Limited when he says “I didn’t save mine”)

Those who are most worthy of love are never made happy by it.
Madame de Rosemonde (to the Présidente de Tourvel) in the movie "Dangerous Liaisons". I have checked and that idea is really expressed my Mme de Rosemonde in the original text, but later in the story (130th letter)
March 26th, 2014

Is reading Adolf Portmann something of a “step” for those who’re into scientific illustrations ? Anyway, it’s always cool to read a book with drawings at the library :)

March 22nd, 2014

Before April I’d like to discuss possible problematics for my *big* memoir with my tutor, but…my mind is still wobbling between deepening something in “ecosophy” or studying more precisely/historically pragmatism, or [ * ]
*bracket symbolizing any fleeting inspiration going through my mind
NB: environmental philosophy is not really a thing in the french intellectual landscape yet (though some professors are doing a great job to introduce it)

March 20th, 2014

some nice album covers illustrating Emilie Simon’s interesting work :)

March 11th, 2014
"You were made from puffball and to puffball you will return" - Catogonis, 3:19 (Cacahuète died this afternoon…)

"You were made from puffball and to puffball you will return" - Catogonis, 3:19 (Cacahuète died this afternoon…)

March 5th, 2014
The plot thickens, so they say. Why? Is it a soup metaphor?
M. Gustave H., in The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson, 2014)
(…wondering things as Wittgenstein would do in the Philosophical Investigations)
February 26th, 2014

Tip for when you have over-eaten : instead of feeling bad (and maybe hating your body), just lay there and imagine you are a cub in the wild. Bellies up ! {-:

February 25th, 2014
We can only think of Plato and Aristotle in grand academic robes. They were honest men, like others, laughing with their friends, and, when they diverted themselves with writing their Laws and the Politics, they did it as an amusement. That part of their life was the least philosophic and the least serious; the most philosophic was to live simply and quietly. If they wrote on politics, it was as if laying down rules for a lunatic asylum; and if they presented the appearance of speaking of a great matter, it was because they knew that the madmen, to whom they spoke, thought they were kings and emperors. They entered into their principles in order to make their madness as little harmful as possible.
Blaise Pascal, Thoughts (n°331)

(Source: oregonstate.edu)