Two prefatory points:
1) What follows is going to be something new for me. Rather than constructing and thinking about a piece of writing, this is just going to be a straight copying from some writing I did a few weeks back. I just started writing and the body of this blog will be word for word from that. As such, there is less argument and more contemplation. I'd love to hear feedback/criticism.
2) I don't believe I've read any explicit deconstruction literature; but I have read a good deal of recent literature that has all the general tendencies which I perhaps incorrectly presume to be a part of the deconstructionist goals. In general, I'm sure I haven't read near enough on this subject. I also believe that some people who are labeled deconstructionists, don't like the term. This may point to something about their thinking.
----
When one deconstructs, destabilizes, disfigures, fractures, delimits, or muddles the very concepts in question, what is left? More importantly, where is that person then left? On what basis can they discuss the given thing? By transfiguring the words, by doing all the things from the list above, what are they then talking about? Something new? What are they then critiquing? Can the deconstructionist talk? And thus, can the deconstructionist think?
Perhaps they are aware of this, and this is what leads to their abstruse rhetoric which obfuscates the reader into frustration, anger, and then dismissal. Their text leads to submission of the reader. Communication is relegated to a realm of errors and is thus done away with. This leads us back to the guiding question: how can the deconstructionist think. If its transmission, and thus logos itself, is unable to do its job, what does the intellect offer? Indeed, what progress is made from human discourse?
Perhaps something new is more appropriate. Let us hope progress is a concern. Correcting error is indeed progress, but to do away with so fundamental of an object, concepts themselves, is to do away with one's own progress. So the deconstructionists are inventive; forging ahead, and finding new concepts. They create a new form to human discourse. But can we then call it discourse? Earlier I mentioned there is a loss of communication. So maybe there is some vestige of discourse still present. At the very least, if there is to be any progress, there must be some resemblance to the former discourse and this new, "non-discourse".
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sarcasm is a serious thing… no, really!
First, I apologize for never writing part 2 to my previous post (from August?!?!?!). That topic is now uninteresting to me.
Second, I realize this post is long. I thought about breaking it into two parts, but then figured, if its that big of deal, the reader can just read half of it, then come back two days later and read the other half. I’ll even denote a half-way point for those who desire to take this course of action.
Sarcasm is typically seen as the invocation of mockery or irony as a result of contempt for something. In either case, the intended meaning does not lie in the truth of the stated proposition. The intent of the statement is actually meant to be contrary to the utterance. So if you combine the mockery with possible confusion when hearing sarcasm, you are left with a dangerous rhetorical device.
There are two big dangers: 1) the speaker is taken as serious or 2) the speaker’s intent was correctly diagnosed by the listener as being sarcastic, but then loses authority or reliability in future dialogue.
Sarcasm, like most language, is based on assumption. The speaker assumes the listener knows s/he is being sarcastic and that s/he will not be taken to be serious. Now this assumption is usually not rash. We have intonation, and facial expressions which help assure that the sarcasm is relayed effectively. But with text, the assumption becomes much more precarious. However, outlandish remarks also safely do the job. If the listener (or reader in this case) understands that what is being said is ludicrous, then the irony or contempt is received more fully. Difficulty arises when sarcasm is not ridiculous. The more coherent and/or possible the statement, the less recognizable the intent, when sarcastic.
The second danger is that the speaker loses authority over time. As the listener begins to understand that, less and less, this particular speaker means what s/he is saying, but rather means something else, sincerity heads to the backburner. The more sarcasm is used, the more the speaker is taken in jest. It’s a “boy-who-cries-wolf” story where the boy slowly loses his ability to convince. As a result, when a typically sarcastic person wants to say what they mean, they will go unheard and their speech becomes frustrated.
Half-way! If you’re tired of reading what I have to say right now*, then just leave this page and come back in a day or two! * [and by “now”, I mean “now” as when you read the word “now”, not “now” as in when I typed the word “now”; although it is certainly possible that those days will be the same, if you read it today. And I mean “today” as in the day I typed “today”, not necessarily the day in which you read it.]
So why do we use sarcasm? Why do we *say* what we don’t mean? Why is it beneficial or even useful? Well I’ve already mentioned the primary reason, viz. to show contempt or to mock. At some point, repeating what the other said, maybe in a sneering tone, was signifying that if you take what was just said, and hold it up to the fire, it will wither away like the supposed waste you take it to be. In a sense, it’s a reductio. One is saying, “look, if you take what you said, this is the ridiculousness that results.” And so we use grandiose words to inflate their statement, and then pop it with our sharp tone.
Sarcasm is also funny. I haven’t thought much about this, but it seems to be one of the bigger oddities we have in language. Of course the bigger question is why is anything funny, but in particular, why do American’s find so much comedy in sarcasm?
One final use lies in the possibility for ambiguity. Again, this is a direct function of any rhetorical device or word. Unclear terms leave open possibility, and utility stems directly from possibilities. It is left up to the interlocutor to figure out exactly what is being meant by the word or phrase. The speaker has said it, and knows what they meant; but it now remains to be seen whether or not this meaning will ever be fully grasped by the listener. This can be quite useful and if correctly employed in this fashion, sarcasm is deadly.
Thus, I can say something sarcastically while knowing that most everyone else will think I am being serious, and plant a little seed (of sarcasm) which will wait to explode sometime in the near future. As people begin to understand more and more about who I am, what I’ve been saying, and my intentions, suddenly, the things I’ve said now take a different meaning: they become the meaning I intended, the meaning that now becomes a bit sharper, and this makes those words a bit more real.
Second, I realize this post is long. I thought about breaking it into two parts, but then figured, if its that big of deal, the reader can just read half of it, then come back two days later and read the other half. I’ll even denote a half-way point for those who desire to take this course of action.
Sarcasm is typically seen as the invocation of mockery or irony as a result of contempt for something. In either case, the intended meaning does not lie in the truth of the stated proposition. The intent of the statement is actually meant to be contrary to the utterance. So if you combine the mockery with possible confusion when hearing sarcasm, you are left with a dangerous rhetorical device.
There are two big dangers: 1) the speaker is taken as serious or 2) the speaker’s intent was correctly diagnosed by the listener as being sarcastic, but then loses authority or reliability in future dialogue.
Sarcasm, like most language, is based on assumption. The speaker assumes the listener knows s/he is being sarcastic and that s/he will not be taken to be serious. Now this assumption is usually not rash. We have intonation, and facial expressions which help assure that the sarcasm is relayed effectively. But with text, the assumption becomes much more precarious. However, outlandish remarks also safely do the job. If the listener (or reader in this case) understands that what is being said is ludicrous, then the irony or contempt is received more fully. Difficulty arises when sarcasm is not ridiculous. The more coherent and/or possible the statement, the less recognizable the intent, when sarcastic.
The second danger is that the speaker loses authority over time. As the listener begins to understand that, less and less, this particular speaker means what s/he is saying, but rather means something else, sincerity heads to the backburner. The more sarcasm is used, the more the speaker is taken in jest. It’s a “boy-who-cries-wolf” story where the boy slowly loses his ability to convince. As a result, when a typically sarcastic person wants to say what they mean, they will go unheard and their speech becomes frustrated.
Half-way! If you’re tired of reading what I have to say right now*, then just leave this page and come back in a day or two! * [and by “now”, I mean “now” as when you read the word “now”, not “now” as in when I typed the word “now”; although it is certainly possible that those days will be the same, if you read it today. And I mean “today” as in the day I typed “today”, not necessarily the day in which you read it.]
So why do we use sarcasm? Why do we *say* what we don’t mean? Why is it beneficial or even useful? Well I’ve already mentioned the primary reason, viz. to show contempt or to mock. At some point, repeating what the other said, maybe in a sneering tone, was signifying that if you take what was just said, and hold it up to the fire, it will wither away like the supposed waste you take it to be. In a sense, it’s a reductio. One is saying, “look, if you take what you said, this is the ridiculousness that results.” And so we use grandiose words to inflate their statement, and then pop it with our sharp tone.
Sarcasm is also funny. I haven’t thought much about this, but it seems to be one of the bigger oddities we have in language. Of course the bigger question is why is anything funny, but in particular, why do American’s find so much comedy in sarcasm?
One final use lies in the possibility for ambiguity. Again, this is a direct function of any rhetorical device or word. Unclear terms leave open possibility, and utility stems directly from possibilities. It is left up to the interlocutor to figure out exactly what is being meant by the word or phrase. The speaker has said it, and knows what they meant; but it now remains to be seen whether or not this meaning will ever be fully grasped by the listener. This can be quite useful and if correctly employed in this fashion, sarcasm is deadly.
Thus, I can say something sarcastically while knowing that most everyone else will think I am being serious, and plant a little seed (of sarcasm) which will wait to explode sometime in the near future. As people begin to understand more and more about who I am, what I’ve been saying, and my intentions, suddenly, the things I’ve said now take a different meaning: they become the meaning I intended, the meaning that now becomes a bit sharper, and this makes those words a bit more real.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Pattern
This post will deal with pattern. My next post will translate pattern into our daily life, with time and “fate” being considered.
Pattern first hit me in the face while reading On Intelligence by Jeff Hawkins. His entire thesis says that memory and prediction are the same thing and all revolve around pattern. Our brain collects input and remembers the pattern in which all the various data are sequenced. When we go through a situation similar to one we’ve experienced before, we remember it, and can better prepare for what is most likely coming next. Intelligence then, is our ability to recognize patterns in the world and then react appropriately.
The better you understand an event, the more likely you’re able to be in control throughout it. The intelligent being sees a piano falling from the sky and realizes it will continue to fall, and will crush them if they do not move. The unintelligent being doesn’t have a grasp on the pattern of events that are going to occur, they cannot predict the outcome, and thus don’t move, and are hit by the piano.
This is only a theory. But I find it extremely appealing and most certainly applicable. (You can see from this brief, unlikely example that there is a type of fitness level built into it; i.e. the intelligent being can understand events and thus keep itself alive). Hawkins believes that pattern recognition is an integral function of our brain. I would agree. Not only do we seek pattern per se, but also meaning (perhaps the two are closely related with meaning being the more abstract cousin of the cold, “factual” data that pattern connotates). As mentioned before, to understand something is to be in control. Also, to discover a pattern, is to provide meaning for a sequence of events. Having done that, we have taken control of the event, and no longer need to worry about the chaos an unpatterned, meaningless event would entail. Once we’ve given something meaning, it has value in our life, and fits into our idea of the world.
The next post will take a few of these ideas and raise a point or two, as well as a few questions.
P.S. My blog-friend Sam Nunnally has a blog series on an age-old topic of the compatabilty of religion and science. But he’s taken an extremely refreshing approach already (he’s only 2 posts in) and has definitely put an insightful spin to it. I think ya’ll will enjoy it.
Pattern first hit me in the face while reading On Intelligence by Jeff Hawkins. His entire thesis says that memory and prediction are the same thing and all revolve around pattern. Our brain collects input and remembers the pattern in which all the various data are sequenced. When we go through a situation similar to one we’ve experienced before, we remember it, and can better prepare for what is most likely coming next. Intelligence then, is our ability to recognize patterns in the world and then react appropriately.
The better you understand an event, the more likely you’re able to be in control throughout it. The intelligent being sees a piano falling from the sky and realizes it will continue to fall, and will crush them if they do not move. The unintelligent being doesn’t have a grasp on the pattern of events that are going to occur, they cannot predict the outcome, and thus don’t move, and are hit by the piano.
This is only a theory. But I find it extremely appealing and most certainly applicable. (You can see from this brief, unlikely example that there is a type of fitness level built into it; i.e. the intelligent being can understand events and thus keep itself alive). Hawkins believes that pattern recognition is an integral function of our brain. I would agree. Not only do we seek pattern per se, but also meaning (perhaps the two are closely related with meaning being the more abstract cousin of the cold, “factual” data that pattern connotates). As mentioned before, to understand something is to be in control. Also, to discover a pattern, is to provide meaning for a sequence of events. Having done that, we have taken control of the event, and no longer need to worry about the chaos an unpatterned, meaningless event would entail. Once we’ve given something meaning, it has value in our life, and fits into our idea of the world.
The next post will take a few of these ideas and raise a point or two, as well as a few questions.
P.S. My blog-friend Sam Nunnally has a blog series on an age-old topic of the compatabilty of religion and science. But he’s taken an extremely refreshing approach already (he’s only 2 posts in) and has definitely put an insightful spin to it. I think ya’ll will enjoy it.
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