Directory of Lost Causes

I shall now attempt my heartfelt rendition of the above moving song by Taylor Swift.

You Belong With Me

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's a vet.
She's going off about her friend's cat, who's dead.
It's not a puma, but a normal domesticated animal.
It wasn’t natural causes, either, but inter-species murder.
(You fill me in on the details – they’re enough to make us lose our faith in the future of inter-species relationships.)

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night.
I'm teasing centipedes from my nostrils with tweezers and a handheld dentist's light.
And she'll never know about your secret passion for Urdu.

But she kills your pets, or so I suspect.
She fakes accidents and makes up bizarre excuses,
Like saying that she had to take your cockatiel to a really good soothsayer she knows
Just to diagnose the illness of your manta ray that was driving you insane and was probably the result of untraceable poisoning of some kind, I suppose.

If you could see that I'm the one who funds the planned coup
To liberate the ibis, tapir and gnu
Then, naturally, you would see
You belong with me.
In a large tepee.

Walkin’ discreetly into a secret meeting and taking notes on the implications for our race of the case of the mutated semi-human beetles who began to take the reins in making their own form of subversive existential pornography,
I can’t help thinking this is how it’s meant to be.
Laughing at the dark stench rising from the rift in the basement -
Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you've got a smile that could frighten a psychotic clown.
I haven’t seen it in awhile, since she put your Alsatian down for no very good reason.
You say you found her the next day turning its ears into humorous ornaments on her hat.
Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that? It seems demeaning.

She wears waders, I wear Darth Vader’s cast offs.
She's a chaplain in her free time, and I'm also on my way to becoming a kind of lay preacher
And dreaming ‘bout the day when my congregation will by dint of your presence become that much deeper.
And you will look at me where I’m preaching like a demon creature endowed with preaching powers from the deepest depths of the secret texts of the slow worm’s equivalent to Nietzsche,
And be impressed.

If you could see that I'm the one who funds the planned coup
To liberate the ostrich, terrapin and pangolin
Then you will have an epiphany
And grasp the reality:
You belong with me,
Immediately.


Standin’ by, patiently fixing your broken boiler, and mending your taps.
All this time how could you not perceive that
You belong with me?
You belong with me.

Oh, I remember you driving a team of wild woodlice through the streets at night.
I'm the one who made sure those woodlice were in top condition for the woodlouse derby the very next day.
I gave them pedicures and enemas and polished their exoskeletal plates.
I’m pretty good with interior decorating, too.

Can't you see that I'm the one whose pun unmanned you?
Been here all along in a string vest and a thong, and yet, mysteriously, the message fails to get through.
You belong with me.

Standing by, patiently restoring your vast collection of baroque wind instruments
All this time how could you watch me at this task and still not sense
You belong with me?
You belong with me.

Have you ever bought a Gay Dad CD? Yes?
You belong with me.
You belong with me.

I've been meaning for some time to write about the documentary Dangerous Knowledge, but there's probably too much to say about it, and I doubt I can say it all in one blog post. For that reason, I intend to write a number of blog posts on it. This will be the first. The documentary is split into ten parts on YouTube (I believe it was originally broadcast as two or three). The first three of the YouTube parts I shall embed here:







This preliminary post will consist of just a few miscellaneous notes and observations on these three parts.

1. Although I appreciate this documentary very much, I'm not sure about some of the presentation. I don't like the whispery way that the quote from William Blake is used at the beginning (there's another whispery quote, from Corinthians, later). This is a television cliche, and a particularly vile one: make something sound mystical and profound by whispering it urgently in voiceover. This is also a tactic used in that appalling film The Secret. Whispering is all about 'the secret'. I don't like it. William Blake should be read out grandly in a plummy voice by Simon Callow or someone, or, better yet, interpreted interestingly by Timothy Spall. Enough with the whispery shit! Oh yeah, and some of the dramatic reconstructions with Georg and his son made me laugh... cruelly. No, I'm joking about the 'cruelly' part.

2. Somewhere early on, the presenter uses the phrase "cosy certainties", referring to what were believed to be the mathematical certainties at the time (that Georg Cantor was alive), and which, I have no doubt, many people alive today still consider certainties. I continually encounter this concept - that "we" apparently all find these certainties comforting, and are appalled when they begin to crumble. Well, I don't. It's just fascinating to me that this assumption is so prevalent. There must be something in it. There must be a common-sense "we" somewhere that is clinging to these certainties - a very large "we". Personally, I find the phrase "cosy certainties" has a ring to it like "cosy prison cell".

3. This programme is one example of how the explanations of science are glossed over for a lay audience. I didn't quite get the curve of infinity thing. I needed more explanation and context of where this curve of infinity had come from, its place in the history of maths and science, and why it was considered the foundation of maths, which should not be questioned. Later on, the continuum hypothesis was much mentioned, but there was almost zero explanation of what it actually was. Or maybe I blinked, aurally speaking, and missed it. I feel like many such programmes are made with the attitude, "Oh, they won't understand it, anyway. They'll just have to take our word for it. If they're really interested, they can look the information up." No! I want it there in the actual programme/magazine article. If maths is the actual focus, and not secondary, then the presenter should consider himself a teacher at the blackboard. "You get the general idea" is not good enough.

4. One does get the idea that Georg Cantor was treated disgracefully by the scientific establishment. Of course, that kind of thing would never happen today. Would it?

5. I like Karin Richter. I feel like I know exactly what she means when she talks about how, as a mathematician, you can't help it, you just have to keep thinking about maths.

6. I think these are all my notes for now, but I may add more later. Anyway, I have a lot to do today, and shouldn't really be slacking off to write on my blog.

7. Oh yes, I forgot, Georg Cantor's bust reminded me of Lovecraft's story, 'Hypnos'.

I leave you with The Mathematicians and their hit number Weapons of Math Instruction:

Today, the United Nations Secretary General, Ban Ki-moon, will chair a meeting on Climate Change. He does so because he hopes that such a gathering of Heads of Government will galvanise the chances of agreement being reached in December in Copenhagen at COP15.

It seems that he is aware, as are many others, that the threat of climate change is very real and that, as scientists now believe we have less than ninety five months left to avert the risk of its catastrophic consequences, we need to act and act very fast.

Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/justin-mundy/the-security-implications_b_294851.html?utm_source=2009%2B09%2023%20PRP%20newsletter1&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2009%2B09%2023%20PRP%20newsletter1

It has been suggested to me that the Buddha (Gautama Sakyamuni) was the first human being to rise above all distinctions of class, race, creed and so on, and perhaps even all those distinctions that once made humans suppose the Sun revolves around the Earth. In other words, he may even have been one of the great primogenitors of disanthropocentrism. If this was acheived, it was through loss of identity - the 'no-self' that is at the core (I cannot say 'heart') of Buddhism.



Supposing that at least the first part of this claim is true then the Buddha was the first cosmopolitan. Let me stop for a moment and turn over a few items of evidence to support this claim. The Buddha, of course, gave up his rank as a prince, but I doubt he was the first to do so. However, in Buddhist teaching we may find numerous examples of the importance of disregarding social rank. Emperors are to be treated the same as beggars, and beggars the same as emperors. Two Buddhist monks, taking a stroll - if I remember correctly - were about to sit down, but one saw that he was about to sit on a rock in which an image of the Buddha had been inscribed. Out of reverence he sat elsewhere, and his companion mockingly rebuked him for still having 'the fear' and respecting the rank of the Buddha. In China, Buddhism came to be seen as a dangerous and subversive faith because no self-respecting Buddhist would recognise the Emperor's authority over him. All this is at least evidence towards the idea that Gautama, as the fountainhead of such ideas, had risen above the idea of rank. At this moment, not wishing to spend hours poring over books for a simple blog post, I can't give evidence with regard to the other distinctions that Gautama may have risen above. I suppose the fact that there has been little or nothing in the way of Jihad or Crusade in Buddhist history might also be considered as evidence here, though.

Let us grant that Gautama was the first cosmopolitan, if so, he was not the first to be called by that name. The word is Greek. It comes from 'cosmos', meaning 'universe', and 'polis' meaning 'city'. (My Greek is virtually non-existent, but I'm guessing that 'politan' means 'citizen'.) According to tradition, the word 'cosmopolitan' was coined by Diogenes. Upon being asked where he was from (what 'polis'), he replied that he was a 'citizen of the cosmos' - a cosmopolitan (a claim later echoed by the Doctor, who described himself as, "a citizen of the universe and a gentleman to boot."). In doing so he was disavowing all loyalty to the city in which he lived, all patriotism.

Diogenes, of course, is also famed for being the first of the Cynics, or among the first, though this appears to be a very loosely connected group of people, and their formation and development is therefore not entirely clear. One story connected with Diogenes is as follows:

At the Isthmian Games, he lectured to large audiences. It may have been at one of these festivals that he met Alexander the Great. The story goes that while Diogenes was relaxing in the sunlight one morning, Alexander, thrilled to meet the famous philosopher, asked if there was any favour he might do for him. Diogenes replied, "Yes: Stand out of my sunlight." Alexander still declared, "If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes."

Here, of course, is an example of the cosmopolitan refusing to recognise rank. Something else that Diogenes perhaps shares with Gautama is that he appeared less interested in constructing theories that explain the world than in what was the right way to live. The 'philosophy' of Diogenes, if he had any in particular, survives in the form of legend and anecdote; although he apparently wrote a number of texts, none are extant, in original or copy.



The nuance of the word 'cynical' (literally 'dog-like') seems to have changed over the years. These days one can talk of the cynical manipulations of an advertiser or a politician, referring to actions that are performed insincerely. The link with original cynicism seems to be that of misanthropy, but Diogenese was closer to the emo of Bill Hicks than he was to the suave, ambitious opportunism of the advertising executive:

[Diogenes] once masturbated in public, saying "If only I could soothe my hunger by rubbing my belly." He used to stroll about in full daylight with a lamp; when asked what he was doing, he would answer, "I am just looking for a human being." Diogenes looked for a human being but reputedly found nothing but rascals and scoundrels.

Gautama lived slightly before Diogenes. I have recently read speculation that cultural traffic between India and Greece may have brought some influence of Buddhism from the former to the latter. Certainly the reverse influence has been noted - a Greek influence in certain of the early statues of the Buddha:

The origins of Greco-Buddhist art are to be found in the Hellenistic Greco-Bactrian kingdom (250 BCE- 130 BCE), located in today’s Afghanistan, from which Hellenistic culture radiated into the Indian subcontinent with the establishment of the Indo-Greek kingdom (180 BCE-10 BCE).

Afghanistan, of course, being where a number of Buddhist statues were destroyed not long ago by the members of a very UNcosmopolitan faith.



To return to my theme, it is at least possible that Greek Cynicism arose partly or wholly from Indian Buddhism. The 'dog' reference, for instance, in the word 'cynicism' is tradtionally attributed to the fact that Diogenes lived in the street, 'like a dog', a lifestyle that is quite comparable to the asceticism associated with Buddhism.

My own personal sense of conflict when pondering such things lies in the sensation of having to choose between a relatively tolerant no-culture (the no-self cosmopolitanism of Buddhism) and many intolerant cultures, all or most of which seem to want to create their own monoculture. It seems ultimately like a choice between two monocultures (because I beieve that no-culture is just another culture), when monoculture is precisely that which I (for one) wish not to choose.

I keep wondering if this particular section of history is going to repeat itself on a larger scale very soon.

I've just had a great idea for a television programme. It's called Extreme Historical and Literary Figures Survival. What happens is that one new historical or literary figure (such as Oscar Wilde or Emmeline Pankhurst) each week is chained naked on top of a disintegrating Antarctic ice-berg while Bear Grylls is chained naked to a neighbouring disintegrating ice-berg, and the first to fight back to civilisation alive and with new findings about the melting of the glaciers in time to save humanity is the winner.

I've taken care to copyright this idea, so if you want to make it into a TV programme (or 'show'), you have to come to me first and buy the rights, if you don't want to be sued from here to Tartarus.

Any takers?

Let me attempt to describe what I like about Zen.

In An Introduction to Zen Buddhism, D.T. Suzuki insists that "Zen is the most serious concern in the world".

After making this assertion, he chooses to close the chapter ('Is Zen Nihilistic?') in the following manner. (For the full effect, you have to press play on the YouTube clip provided immediately after reading the extract.):

Let me conclude this chapter with the following quotation from one of the earliest Zen writings. Doko (Tao-kwang), a Buddhist philosopher and a student of the Vijnaptimatra (absolute idealism), came to a Zen master and asked:

"With what frame of mind should one discipline oneself in the truth?"

Said the Zen master, "There's no mind to be framed, nor is there any truth in which to be disciplined."

"If there is no mind to be framed and no truth in which to be disciplined, why do you have a daily gathering of monks who are studying Zen and disciplining themselves in the truth?"

The master replied: "I have not an inch of space to spare, and where could I have a gathering of monks? I have no tongue, and how would it be possible for me to advise others to come to me?"

The philosopher then exclaimed, "How can you tell me a lie like that to my face?"

"When I have no tongue to advise others, is it possible for me to tell a lie?"

Said Doko despairingly, "I cannot follow your reasoning."

"Neither do I understand myself," concluded the Zen master.

Monks? What monks? I don't know anything about no monks! I wasn't even there! Etc.