28.5.10

Final Paper for Modern Philosophy

For this assignment, I crafted a possible argument between George Berkeley and Rene Descartes concerning the existence of material substance. After the dialogue, I critiqued their positions using some basics of Kant's philosophy from Prolegomena.

Cass Lowry
April 29, 2010
PHI 272 – Second Paper; Prompt 1

Berkeley. Oh René, thank you very much for joining me for lunch today. Sitting here, I cannot help but admire the beautiful flowers planted in the quadrangle. Such fragrances! And the wonderful aesthetic note they add to the campus; I am sure they must impress all of the tour groups. How can one not laugh at men such as Locke who contend that such sense perceptions are mere representations of material substances?
Descartes. I am afraid I misunderstand you George. What you mean to say, of course, is it would be ridiculous to conclude that these sense perceptions are a true basis for viewing the world around us.
Berk. Not at all. I am saying that these sense perceptions can in no way derive from any material substance, substratum, or whatever those gobily-gook philosophers want to call it now. In fact, we can clearly know that such material substance does not exist.
Des. I am afraid I must disagree. I cannot believe I am about to say this, but I must side with Mr. Locke. Our sensations are representations of material substances.
Berk. Ha! Please, do go on. Regale me with your proof for material substance.
Des. Well, take this flower for instance. Would you agree that it has a wonderful gold color? That its petals are soft and almost rubbery to the touch and create a shuffling sound when I shake it lightly? That it possesses a wonderful scent and perhaps would have a great taste (although I am not quite willing to empirically prove that claim)?
Berk. Who could say otherwise?
Des. But watch. *Descartes lights a match and chars the petals of the flower* You must admit; the flower’s qualities are now vastly changed. It now smells of ash and soot. Its charcoal color is rough to the touch, and is brittle enough to break in my fingers. The sound of the petals is gone and I would dare you to taste it. But yet, is it not the same flower?
Berk. But of course.
Des. But if it is the same flower, which no one can deny, given the continuity of our experience, how can we know it to be so when all of our sense perceptions of it have changed? Upon closer reflection, we can see that it still maintains the qualities of extension -- for I can hold it in my hand -- mutability, and flexibility -- for even in this moment I can break the stem *snap* and yet it remains the same flower. Clearly, I cannot sense or touch the general aspects of extension, mutability, and flexibility; but may I imagine them? If I sit, and imagine all the different ways I can change this flower (imagine pressing it, varying the crease in one petal in a slightly different manner each time; now try the same with all the petals) I find I cannot possibly envision the infinite ways I could modify this flower. So if I cannot sense extension and the like, and I cannot imagine them, I must understand them with my intellect. I can now see that my knowledge of the flower comes from my mind alone. No matter how many ways it manifests itself to me, the flower remains the flower; my mind can perceive an underlying material substance of the flower, which allows it to remain constant despite its changes in its qualities.
Berk. No my friend!! You were speaking undeniable truth until your final conclusion. You are missing premises! Yes, our sense perceptions of the flower change over time even though the flower remains the same in a certain respect. But it is not accurate to say that this uniformity of our perception must be derived from material substance. Why can it not come from mind?
Des. Absurd. Imagine for me, if you will a flower with four petals. Can you picture it? Now imagine a flower with one million petals. Is the image as clear?
Berk. No. Although I can conceive of a thousand-petal flower existing, I cannot easily picture one.
Des. And herein we can see the difference between understanding and imagining. You can understand the possibility of a thousand-petal flower because you have a clear mental concept of numbers that you can apply to your knowledge of a flower. Such an understanding, however, only points inward to such concepts as mathematics, which exist in your mind, are as clear as a light, and are in no way deniable. Imagining, on the other hand, seems to point outward, towards the body and other experiences; the ability to imagine a three-petal flower does not seem to be a necessary part of the rational mind. Rather, such ideas are not a constant part of our mind, but seem to derive from either proximity to the object or from memory. You are able to receive such ideas from outside of you, (and oftentimes you do, without your consent or desire), which means there must be more to reality than your mind alone. There must be material substance!
Berk. Calm down René. You have originally missed the point of my objection. I deny that our conceptions of extension, mutability, and flexibility have any grounding in the material world.
Des. Humor me.
Berk. Why do you not trust the qualities of the flower, such as its scent or color, as a basis for clear knowledge?
Des. Because my senses are faulty. They change and make mistakes.
Berk. Well then, can you conceive for me the extension of this flower? Do you have it in your mind? Good. Now, imagine that you are a honeybee coming to suck nectar out of the flower. Will you admit that animals have the same capacity for sensing as humans?
Des. I will admit it.
Berk. Well, how would the flower appear to the honeybee? To the bee, it would seem a mountain, while to you, the flower would still seem the size of your hand. Thus, at the same moment, the flower would have two different extensions. If extension is material substance’s unchanging characteristic, clearly this is a contradiction. Extension is based on sensory perception to the same extent as color and scent.
Des. You clearly misunderstand extension. We, as rational humans, can understand that the flower has an unchanging extension.
Berk. But clearly that extension is subjective! The extension of a five-foot statue looks incredibly different to a six-foot and a four-foot tall man. Thus, it is based on sense perception.
Des. You cannot see extension. It is something to be known.
Berk. Listen, you made another frightful mistake when you were discussing the distinction between imagination and intellection. You claimed that our imaginations are not self-willed, and therefore must come from something outside of us. To that I agree, but you would be foolish to so quickly assume that it came from anything material.
Des. What else could it come from?
Berk. If you would stop being so thickheaded for a moment…you must understand that extension, like all other qualities, is nothing more than a sense perception. Imagine for instance, if you were to look at the flower with one eye bare and the other using a microscope; the flower would have two different extensions at the same time. We cannot have an idea of anything if it is not from a sense perception. And because all we know is derived from sense perceptions, which, you agree, are functions of the mind, we have no cause to believe in material substance. Yet, you are correct, not all of our ideas are self-willed; many times we cannot control what we experience, so they must come from outside of us. They must come from another mind, one that gives them uniformity; so that when we burn a flower we know that it is the same flower. The only mind powerful enough to provide such constant uniformity would be an infinite mind; therefore, all of our wonderful perceptions must come from the infinite, omnipotent mind of God.
Des. Ridiculous. Our God is not a deceiving God! Why would he make it seem we have a material world around us then? Why would he deceive us by presenting a seeming third-party materialism, from which we assume we can learn ideas, when he is really the one feeding us concepts, images, ideas, and understandings? That does not make sense. God is omnipotent! What advantage would it do him to deceive us?
Berk. We are not being deceived! Everything we know is derived from a sense perception, and all sense perceptions can be found in the mind of God. It is the simplest and truest explanation. God, in his omnipotence, does not need to use a tool such as matter to convey experiences to us.
Des. But that is inconsistent with our thoughts! Some of our concepts, such as mathematics, and the simple fact that we exist as thinking things, can be clearly perceived, whereas our perceptions of shape, scent, and texture are often confused and muddled. They cannot derive from the same source.
Berk. Who cares about a distinction in our thoughts? We could not have our thoughts without deriving them from the world around us! Everything we know is through experience!
Des. Have you never doubted your senses before! Clearly, they are unreliable, but yet we can be certain that we, as thinking-things exist. Our knowledge derives from mind and clear perceptions. And we can clearly perceive that God would not deceive us!


Descartes and Berkeley’s tea-luncheon at this point has deteriorated into a shouting match. Conversation could continue, and Berkeley might easily respond to Descartes that God does not deceive us, but rather it is merely humans who are have caused their own confusion ; but stopping here is wise because at this point the two philosophers have unearthed the conflicting axioms of their worldviews. In the preceding hypothetical conversation concerning the nature of material substance, while both the rationalist Descartes and the empiricist Berkeley elucidate perceptive arguments, Descartes’ philosophical perspective can clearly be seen to be the stronger argument. This conclusion can be primarily drawn from his belief in the lucidity of reason.
Berkeley makes the implicit claim in his Three Dialogues that all things humans know are derived either from their sense perceptions or from the connections of ideas they draw through observing and reasoning from these perceptions. Although confusion is possible, if humans take the time to sift through their senses, they will arrive at the proper conclusions about the nature of God and the uniformity of experience. In fact, Berkeley proves God from the constancy of sense perceptions. Having already shown that all sensations are subjective and can in no way exist in anything other than a mind and that he is not at all times in control of these ideas and experiences they must come from the mind of God, an active, omnipotent, and omnipresent mind. He then goes on to confirm his idea of God by extrapolating from his intuitive perception of his soul. From these premises, Berkeley is able to account for all of the ideas we receive from experience as well as the conclusions and observations we can draw from such perceptions caused by the mind of God.
Descartes, however, describes a type of knowledge for which Berkeley’s philosophy is not able to provide an explanation, that of mathematics. In his Meditations on First Philosophy, Descartes describes mathematics as knowledge that is “certain and indubitable.” Our theories of mathematics seem to have no direct basis in our sense perceptions, for we cannot clearly imagine the whole concept of a triangle, in all of its representations, but only intuit and represent it. Neither can they be attributed to observations and conclusions we draw from our senses, for there is a clear distinction between theories and theorems. Theories are a group of principles, observations, and general rules, which allow humans to predict the future with reasonable certainty. Such theories are what Berkeley describes in his philosophy as being abstracted from our senses. Theorems, on the other hand, are conceptual truths that we can apply to find certain answers, provided we have applied them correctly. No sense perception can adequately provide a mind with the idea of an equilateral triangle, yet we still have the idea; furthermore, we can use our idea to reason further theorems, which can be used to correctly predict the nature of our environments. The nature of theories is exactly the opposite; theories cannot progress through reason to predict nature, but rather must be continually furthered through observation and analysis of nature. Clearly, Berkeley does not account in his philosophy for the activity of mathematical reasoning.
The question must therefore be asked, where can such reasoning originate? Descartes would respond that, because God gave us rationality, the mere fact that we can clearly perceive such conclusions makes them true. Leaving his circle aside, it is apparent that Descartes, although unable to adequately prove their cause, correctly intuits the validity of such judgments. To extrapolate from Berkeley’s philosophy, the only manner in which he can explain the existence of mathematical theories in our minds would be to posit that God, the active mind, placed such reasoning in our minds; but this would be inconsistent with his former arguments. First, it is clear that such reasoning cannot derive from sensible things, and therefore cannot enter our mind through the senses, for “sensible things are those only which are immediately perceived by sense” and sense does not have the function of further perception. If humans do not receive knowledge of mathematic principles from senses, then they must come from God. This, also, is not defendable. Berkeley proves the existence of God through our experience with the sensory world. If God’s existence cannot be confirmed through other means than our sense perceptions (the exploration of the nature of the soul only continues Berkeley’s proof, and cannot replace it), then it is impossible for humans to receive other knowledge, ideas or insights from him. In other words, if our only source of knowledge is through the senses, we only know God through our senses, and we cannot derive mathematics from our senses, then it is not possible for God to put mathematics in our minds. Mathematical reasoning then, seems to have no source; this would be impossible.
Upon further exploration, although both philosophers’ arguments have some flaws, it is clear that Descartes’ philosophy is better able to explain epistemology. Berkeley’s idealism, a form of substance monism, is flawed because it cannot account for the mathematical forms of reasoning, which clearly form a large part of human consciousness and clearly lie at the heart of Descartes’ Meditations. So while we may enjoy sitting on a spring day, reveling in fragrant flowers, we should rest assured that, if necessary, we could easily find the area of wood chips necessary to cover the flower bed.

I've been lazy, I know...

I was yelled at about a week ago by a good friend for having not updated my blog in a tremendously long time. As the semester progressed and I found myself attending two Forensics national tournaments -- AFA in Eau Claire, Wisconsin and NFA in Athens, Ohio -- and rushing to finish my papers for finals, my blog sat nicely on the back burner. I suppose it's time to bring it back out again and continue sharing my life.

First, I'm going to use a few posts to publish some papers. WARNING: This post will be my midterm paper for modern philosophy on Baruch Spinoza's Ethics. Please only read if you are really, really, really sure that you are interested.

Cass Lowry
March 20, 2010
PHI 272 – The Unity of Essence


René Descartes revolutionized philosophy when he developed his theory of substance dualism. Commonly referred to as the “Father of Modern Philosophy”, Descartes’ arrival at this theory started a tradition of radically reevaluating previous philosophical knowledge. Continuing in the newly established tradition, which we now refer to as “modern philosophy”, Baruch Spinoza contested Descartes’ established ideas of substance and interaction. In his posthumously published work, The Ethics, Spinoza uses Descartes’ conception of ideas such as God, substance, and modes in philosophic geometric proofs to reach different conclusions. Hurling substance dualism to the ground, Spinoza argues in favor of substance monism, which, in his case, is the belief that God is the only substance and all things are modes and affectations of his essence. His version of monism asserts that Thought and Extension (attributes of God concerning minds and bodies respectively) cannot directly cause each other, but are only linked through God. The implications of such an explanation of reality are staggering. Due both to the metaphysical questions such a view of reality call into mind and his philosophy’s impact on history, it is essential that we closely examine Spinoza’s, sometimes hard to follow, proofs. In a study of The Ethics, it seemed to me Spinoza made a contradiction when describing the nature of substance and attributes. In this paper, I will present the relevant elements of Spinoza’s argument beginning with his definitions of substance and attributes and proceeding to his conclusion that God is the only substance with attributes that cannot be causally linked, before continuing to refute his premise that attributes cannot interact in a substance by appealing to the absurdity that something cannot be both one and many. I will respond to my critique in Spinoza’s voice, and then reply to Spinoza’s critique to strengthen my original assertion.

Spinoza’s Argument for Substance Monism:
To begin, Spinoza lists several definitions, which, although tedious, are necessary to understand his argument. Self-causation refers to the characteristic present when a thing can only be conceived as existing. A substance is that which is only conceived through itself and therefore does not require the conception of another thing from which it is formed. An attribute is a perception of a substance’s essence. A mode, or affectation, is something that can only be conceived through something else. His most important definition is that of God, which describes God as “an absolutely infinite being, that is, a substance consisting of infinite attributes, each of which expresses eternal and infinite essence” in which anything that expresses essence, without involving a negation, is a necessary element of its essence. Next, he poses several axioms that will aid his argument. First, he deals with cause and effect: “the knowledge of an effect depends on, and involves, the knowledge of the cause,” and “things which have nothing in common with each other cannot be understood through each other. “ From these foundations, he begins to build his propositions. It is self-evident that substance is prior to its affectations because substance can only be conceived through itself, while affectations must be conceived of through something else, i.e. its substance. Also, no two substances can have the same attributes, for if they were to have the same attributes, they could not be distinguished from each other, and therefore would be the same substance. If no two substances can have the same attributes, and therefore cannot cause each other, because knowledge of effect depends on knowledge of cause, then a substance must necessarily exist always (i.e. contain existence in its essence) since it is self-caused, and would never come into being due to another cause. When existence necessarily follows from the definition, i.e. essence, of a thing, it is eternal.
After dealing with the nature of substance, Spinoza lays his first existential claim: God must exist. He proposes three proofs, one of which will suffice for the purposes of this argument: God’s essence, as an infinite substance, contains existence. To suppose that God does not contain existence, therefore contradicting a necessary conclusion of the definition of God, would be absurd. Therefore, God must exist. But if God exists, because it consists of infinite attributes, God must be the only substance (no two substances can have the same attributes, and if God contains all attributes, no other substances can exist). This leads to the conclusion that all reality, i.e. all attributes and modes, must be conceived through God; God is the efficient cause of all.
With an understanding of God as the only substance, we can end this argument by examining the nature of attributes. The essence of a substance refers to that without which a substance cannot be nor be conceived. For example, suppose a chair were a substance; any chair could not be conceived without some surface for sitting on (otherwise it would not be a chair), therefore, having a place to sit would be an attribute of the substance of “chair”. Because attributes express different aspects of the essence of substance (meaning knowledge of one does not depend on knowledge of the other), they must both have no causal relation to each other and must express eternity (for if they were not caused by each other they must have always been in a substance, therefore sharing its infinite nature). Therefore God is the only substance, within which all attributes and their respective modes are contained; these attributes cannot interact with each other, but rather are distinct and only related through their common substance, God. This conclusion is used by Spinoza to explain the rest of his metaphysics, including the remote interaction of Thought and Extension.

Critique:
I argue that it is impossible for God to have infinitely many attributes that do not directly interact with each other. Spinoza’s application of his definitions involves a contradiction, which would prove that God, as the only substance, would have only one attribute.
I concede, using the given definitions, that God is the only substance. If substance cannot be caused by anything else, then it must exist, and therefore, be infinite. This is especially true in the case of God, because nothing else can exist besides the substance of God. Infinity, meaning continuous existence (which implies limitlessness) therefore is an aspect of God’s essence. Spinoza also claims in Prop.10.I that attributes of a substance, which are constituents of the essence of a substance, can only be conceived through themselves. This entails that they cannot cause each other because they do not contain knowledge of each other. In the very same proposition, however, he acknowledges that because attributes cannot cause each other, they must have always existed in their substance simultaneously, meaning that they are infinite. In fact, he states explicitly that each attribute “expresses a definite essence, eternal and infinite.” To claim that attributes cannot be conceived of through each other, but they can all be conceived of as being infinite, while also acknowledging that infinity is a necessary attribute of any substance, is absurd. If what Spinoza claims are “attributes” participate in the infinite, then they can only be understood through the conception of infinity. They therefore cannot be conceptualized without the quality of infinity; this necessarily proves that these “attributes” are not attributes according to Spinoza’s definition, but rather, are simply modes. Since substance is necessarily self-caused and infinite, then infinity, being the primary concept contained in its essence, can be the only attribute of substance; all else must be conceived of as a mode of infinity.
The same conclusion can also be expressed through different wording. God, as an infinite being, necessarily requires infinity to be part of his essence. In this whole, it would be a logical absurdity to have separate parts that could not interact, for the one cannot be many. We may be able to conceive of this essence by separating it into aspects (in the same way we can separate modes from attributes or other modes) but all of these aspects must necessarily relate to the only essence of God: infinite existence, encompassing all time and possibilities.

Spinoza’s Possible Response:

The preceding argument commits a logical fallacy by assuming that substances and attributes can be understood through the same type of infinity. A careful observance of my definitions and propositions will reveal that the infinity in substance and attributes is not the same concept. Therefore, it cannot be viewed as an attribute of substance that causes the related modes of Thought and Extension.
In the explication of my definition of God, I draw a clear distinction between “absolutely infinite” and “infinite in its own kind”. A thing that is absolutely infinite cannot be made finite, bound, or limited by anything. Something that is only infinite in its own kind, however, involves a limited category. Such things can be said to be infinite because they can never be limited by another thing in its own kind (as compared to finite things, which I explain in my second definition) but in another sense, they are not absolutely infinite because they do not include all existence. For example, the attribute of Extension does not appear to be finite. Can you conceive of Extension being smaller than Extension? This would make it limited by a like thing, but such a statement seems ridiculous. Saying it is possible to conceive of one body being smaller than another, however, is quite sensible. At the same time, it is apparent that Extension does not include Thought, and therefore is not absolutely infinite. Therefore, it can be argued that things that are only infinite in their own kind do not really have infinite attributes. They therefore can only be called “infinite” in a common use of the language.
Because “infinite in its own kind” and “absolutely infinite” are two completely different concepts, the premise that Thought and Extension (which were assumed to share the same type of infinity) share qualities with the absolutely infinite nature of God is false. Moreover, it is improper to conceive of limit (relating to infinity) and time (relating to eternity) as constituting the essence of a substance. These two characteristics are only qualities that can be ascribed to substances and attributes in different fashions.

Second Critique:
In such a response, Spinoza makes clear distinctions between the natures of infinity. Even in his Proposition 21 he is careful to specify that all things that come from an attribute of God must be infinite only when conceived through that attribute. It is true, these two types of infinity are not the same. Absolute infinity cannot be conceived through any other concept; it is an infinite amount of things, infinite in themselves. The concept of “infinity in its own kind”, however, cannot be understood without the concept of absolute infinity. When a thing is unlimited in its own kind, although it may not be said correctly to be infinite, it can only be understood through the perfect concept of limitlessness. Absolute infinity, therefore, must be its cause (all of this reasoning can be explained with the definitions set forth in Spinoza’s original argument). The infinity possessed by Thought and Extension then, is a mode of the only substance’s infinity. This understanding clearly allows for Thought and Extension to be modes of God’s one attribute, absolute infinity.
Spinoza’s possible claim that it is improper to conceive of limit and time as constituting the essence of a substance can also be proven to be false according to his own definitions. Take infinity as an example. Infinity exists necessarily in the nature of God, given Spinoza’s Definition 2.II. It is impossible to remove infinity from our conception of God. It must therefore be a constituent of his essence, which means that it can be conceived of as an attribute.

17.3.10

The Logical Side of Creativity

In research for my Creativity Class, when I first came across the Logical Thinking Skills aspect in Tardif and Sternberg’s Cognitivie Characteristics of Creativity, it seemed an apparent contradiction to state creativity, a concept previously understood to me to be something unpredictable, free flowing, and original, had anything to do with a system of formal logic. My text (Creativity in the Classroom, Starko) justified the seeming paradox by claiming “highly creative people [must] have excellent logical thinking skills…to be effective in gathering information about a situation, to focus on important issues, or to evaluate potential ideas.” It goes on to argue that “logical thinking can even be a tool for dealing with novelty.” These arguments seemed to make some sense to me, so I accepted them and moved on. It was not until last night, however, that I really began to understand the many ways in which logic helps us to creatively respond to the world.

This past week, I have shut myself away in my Modern Philosophy studies. When beginning to study for my midterm and first paper, I found that I had not kept up with the semester’s studies. As a result, Descartes and Spinoza have become my best friend. Preparing for my midterm was the first situation in a long time in which I have found myself truly stressed. I started panicking at times; adrenaline kept me alert, but unfocused; I had a very difficult time relaxing when with friends. Last night, I went to the home of a friend who had taken Modern Philosophy previously, in preparation for the midterm, so that I could talk to her about some of the concepts.

She amazes me. Not only did she clearly and distinctly remember Descartes’ proofs from when she had taken the class two years earlier, but through our conversation, sometimes more far reaching than the arguments of the philosophers, I found that she was able to, when she read philosophy, not only brilliantly analyze it for its validity, but is also able to directly apply it to her life. Oftentimes, when I approach a great thinker, I can take in their comments, but I have great difficulty looking through the eyes of their worldview either to analyze its appropriateness to my own life, or to step into their P.O.V. to compare it to the thoughts of others. I have found that there are many logical cross-connections I am missing. My thoughts are very context dependent and memorization based; I can understand the philosophers through themselves, but trying to apply them to different situations is extremely difficult and confusing. This is why my friend’s approach to philosophy stunned me. When she analyzed the arguments of the philosophers, she easily filled in the logical steps to transfer their claims to her own life. She then argued back. Writing to me which seemed unapproachable became undefendable under her scrutiny.

This experience led me to once again more deeply question the link between creativity and logical thinking. My friend’s ability to clearly hold on to arguments and follow them through to their implications allowed her to take viewpoints and deduce resulting effects and assumptions in a multitude of contexts. Whereas I read a text and can explain it, she reads a text and can explain some element of life. My conversations with her renewed my determination to focus on further training my mind in logic. Although it may seem simple or inflexible at times, logical thinking is an incredible tool for taking a wisp of a feeling, an inkling of an idea, and extrapolating it to the far reaches of perception. Logic is central to the generation and analysis of ideas in novel situations. Therefore, it must necessarily be a key component of creativity.

2.3.10

Eh Eh Eh!!!!

So tonight I was affectionately referred to as "Bald Guy" by an old Brazilian man. Check that one off my bucket list.

I just got home from a capoeira demonstration hosted by Alpha Mu Gamma for National Foreign Language Week. Steph Eckman arranged for Mestre Doutor and his students to come to West Chester for a Capoeira demonstration. When I saw the flyer, I knew that make time to attend.

Expecting a few college students to be talking at us and doing flips, I was surprised to find a Brazilian man with a wonderful accent standing on the stage with Capoeiristas of all ages arranged in a semi circle on the stage. After a few light hearted jokes, Mestre Doutor said "you know what, just watch. Just watch." Then the music began.

Two men started playing their berimbaus - wonderful stringed/percusion instruments - to set the tone. A tambourine and a conga joined in. I've seen people practice Capoeira before, but usually by themselves, and never with the accompanying instruments. Let me tell you, it is a ritual unlike anything I've ever experienced before.

As the first two dancers stood, Mestre unleashed his wonderful tenor into a Brazilian song, punctuated by the claps of the audience. Then the dancing began. Head stands and kicks and sweeps and leaps; bounces and dance steps, all started and ended by the partner's gentle touch of each other's hands.

I had forgotten how good it was to watch martial artists use their bodies. Even before the music started, I felt like I was back at a TSD tournament just by observing how everyone stood on the stage; completely comfortable with their bodies, balanced and limber. Its easy to read Gardner and agree with the multiple intelligences, but tonight, I remembered how much I believed in kinesthetics.

Each dancer had their own personal style. A 6 and a half foot tall lanky frenchman with dreads relied on sweeping kicks and a few low turns. One girl twisted in stalls on the ground and slid along kicking for knees. A fibrous man with a mowhawk had complete control of his movement and could jump three feet into the air from any position. The Mestre himself liked to scream like a girl and headbut his partner when they weren't prepared for it. The reason I enoy martial arts so much, especially capoeira, is because it is a perfect model of creativity expressed through the beauty of ritual. The community knows the songs to sing, the beats to clap, the entrance into the ring and the touch that starts the dance. Each dancer has a repoitoire of moves which can be played with at any moment. But the combination of moves, in sync with another creator, is what makes each round unique, priceless, and hopelessly fun. As the dancers spin around each other, throwing moves, bending, always filling the space and never touching, mimicking then complementing each other, I wonder at the pathways in the brain that are orgasming as they decide which new, smooth movement to insert into this timeless dance. On stage everything I used to love about Tang Soo Do, the give and take, response to breath and extension, and of course, all of the silly moves I used to love, were exalted. Within five minutes I knew two things: this was my style, and I wanted to dance.

That's when the Mestre called for audience members to come and join the group. James, Lanie, Nick Magno and I instantly emptied our pockets, kicked off our shoes, and leapt onto the stage. We were joined by a wrestler, whose low stance was lumbering, yet smooth and purposeful. AN out of practice martial artist showed the skills that used to be refined. Nick would switch into breakdancing steps and freezes in between exchanges. James dropped low, before striking like a cobra, and smilling as he dodged the moves. Lanie had perfect form, each kick an expression of a lifetime of dancing. I spun and swept and crouched as the Mestre and I played and struck and waltzed. Every style was welcomed. When in the circle, every participant was praised for their originality, their uniqueness, their creativity. Never had I experienced such a beautiful representation of the enjoyment of freeflowing human movement.

So now, after eating a handful of grapes - nature's snack food - I thank the stars for the dance that released me from a very gray day of disapointments and misgivings. Energized, I am ready to write some papers, and perhaps make myself some eggs. Either Steph or James had better start a capoeira club as their capstone. I don't think I'll be able to live my life without this ritualized celebration of spontaiety.

The Mestre Doutor's style was playful. Whether he was holding his back in mock anguish, screaming like a girl, or cracking jokes in front of the audience, his goodwill carried through his loving teasing. He explained to us that because capoeira was developed as a secret fighting form, each capoeirista received a special Capoeira nick name to hide their real name. When James put on his army jacket, his became Matrix. If I ever start practicing, I feel like I already know what my name would be. Man, I had even let my hair grow for about a week since I last shaved it. I guess there are just some battles you can never win.

12.2.10

With three feet of snow outside, and smoke curling inside

This is not going to be a necessarily meaningful post. Its occasion probably calls for it to be one, considering that such a great amount of time has passed since I've cared for this blog. But as I sit in my nook after a wonderful evening of hookah with Dre and Brittany, after two and a half snow days filled with forts, head shots, and damp clothing, I cannot think of any universal truth to draw from my experiences. I'm sorry if you're disappointed.

But how wonderful these past two days have been! A break from all work and cares, a lifetime has passed in this snow globe called West Chester which someone decided to give one hell of a shake. Until I heard the cheers at the tutoring center on Tuesday, when the entire campus population received the same class cancellation notice at the same time, I had forgotten what time with friends tasted like. I am ashamed. How could I have lost the memory of a lazy morning with friends sleeping in cuddle folds in the next room while a fellow early riser and I are placated with smells of Irish coffee? I had forgotten how devastating a lack of schedule is to my work ethic.

The one are of my work where I have been devoting my attention pretty systemically is my work with OLEG. Originally begun as my capstone requirement, I knew early on in the process that my passion for OLEG would bloom with the coming spring. So far I have finished writing a letter of inquiry to the Charles Stewart Mott Foundation. My next step in the project is to try to bridge OLEG and West Chester. The ideal goal is to forge a relationship that would be more substantive than an interest in fundraising, but I cannot yet envision any other type of partnership. This is an area I have to improve upon.

To return to the theme of found time for relaxation, I am amazed at how busy I am this semester. I always tell myself that I am not able to over committ myself more than I had the preceeding semester. I always manage to prove myself wrong. I just hope that in my frantic multi-tasking I don't loose the habits of dedication and disciplined concentration required to make a sustained difference in a given field.

My thoughts have already become distracted with visions of papers I want to write before I sleep tonight. There is a fair amount of work I must catch up on before I fly to Athens, Ohio for a forensics tournament tomorrow, so I will adjourn this reflection until a later time. I will try to write or at least post more, but I enjoy when my posts can be use as starting points for discussion. Forgive me for giving you something less, but for now, it was just necessary for me to dig out my blog, push off the snow, defrost the ice, and get the engine running once more.