Thursday, December 23, 2021

People want things not because of their intrinsic value, but because others also want or have them.

From The Scapegoat by Geoff Shullenberger, a review of The Contrarian: Peter Thiel and Silicon Valley's Pursuit of Power by Max Chafkin.  

Despite his stated interest in figuring out “what . . . Thiel actually believe[s],” Chafkin has little to say about Thiel’s Christian faith, or the intellectual framework he brings to it, based on the ideas of René Girard. Thiel has cited Girard’s sprawling 1978 magnum opus, Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World, as his favorite book. Girard draws on the Jewish and Christian Scriptures to argue that human societies are founded on mob violence against arbitrary victims. Archaic religion, for Girard, draws its power from scapegoating, ritualized as human sacrifice. Peace is brought to the community through the simultaneous vilification and deification of victims. They are blamed for the community’s conflicts, and then, through the pacifying power of this assumption of blame, become gods.

What has this theory contributed to Thiel’s Christian worldview and his business career? Chafkin does not explore this question. He ­briefly examines Thiel’s better-known intellectual debt to Girard, which involves interest in the primacy of imitation in human behavior. Girard argues that human desire is fundamentally mimetic: People want things not because of their intrinsic value, but because others also want or have them. This insight informs one of Thiel’s most infamous views: that, contrary to what many of his free-market libertarian friends might claim, competition is an obstacle to professional and technological growth, rather than a driver of it. It causes us to focus more on our rivals than on the substantive objectives we aim to achieve.

Girard’s insight allowed Thiel to glimpse the future of social media, which expands the field of mimetic desire by giving us a vast selection of models to imitate. Some take this as a benign or neutral development, but it has a dark edge. Imitation begets conflict by causing us to want what others have. Girard first explored this phenomenon in the romantic conflicts of novels, but it is even more evident in the attention economy. When others post about their happy, successful lives or receive more likes, favorites, and retweets than we have, the result is the toxic brew of rage, envy, and resentment we can observe online every day.

Girard’s analysis of archaic so­cieties suggests that sacrificial rites, taboos, and purity codes evolved to keep the ever-present, socially corrosive dangers of mimetic conflict in check. But Christianity exposes the lie at the heart of sacrificial violence—the guilt of the scapegoat—and thereby undermines its social efficacy as a means of expelling conflict from the community. It is in this sense, for Girard, that Christ brings “not peace, but a sword.” The apocalyptic result is that we are left without the mechanism that has constrained the tendency to conflict generated by mimetic desire. Without scapegoating, what keeps humanity from destroying itself?
 

But there are just five things that I cannot do in your place.

From Novice to Master An Ongoing Lesson in the Extent of My Own Stupidity by Soko Morinaga.

A while ago I gave a public lecture at a university.  The speaker who preceded me talked for about an hour and a half, running over his allotted time.  The break period between our talks was shortened, and I was called to the podium right away.  Concerned for the audience, I opened by asking, "Did you all have time to urinate?”

Apparently this was not what the audience had expected to hear.  Perhaps they were particularly surprised because the person standing before them, talking about pissing, was a monk.  Everyone broke into hearty laughter.

Having started out on this note, I continued to press on. "Pissing is something that no one else can do for you.  Only you can piss for yourself."  This really broke them up, and they laughed even harder.

But you must realize that to say, “You have to piss for yourself; nobody else can piss for you” is to make an utterly serious statement.

Long ago in China, there was a monk called Ken.  During his training years, he practiced in the monastery of Th-hui, but despite his prodigious efforts, he had not attained enlightenment.  One day Ken's master ordered him to carry a letter to the far-off land of Ch’ang-sha.  This  journey, roundtrip, could easily take half a year. The monk Ken thought, "I don't have forever to stay in this hall practicing!  Who’s got time to go on an errand like this?"  He consulted one of his seniors, the monk Genjoza, about the matter.

Genjoza laughed when he heard Ken's predicament.  “Even while traveling you can still practice Zen!  In fact, I'll come along with you,”—and before long the two monks set out on their journey.

Then one day while the two were traveling, the younger monk suddenly broke into tears.  “I have been practicing for many years, and I still haven't been able to attain anything.  Now, here I am roaming around the country on this trip; there’s no way I am going to attain enlightenment this way," Ken lamented.

When he heard this, Genjoza, thrusting all his strength into his words, put himself at the junior monk’s disposal: "I will take care of anything that I can take care of for you on this trip," he said. “But there are just five things that I cannot do in your place.

“I can't wear clothes for you. I can’t eat for you. I can't shit for you. I can't piss for you. And I can't carry your body around and live your life for you."

It is said that upon hearing these words, the monk Ken suddenly awakened from his deluded dream and attained a great enlightenment, a great satori.

Data Talks

 

Daybreak. Parson's Beach by William B. Hoyt

Daybreak. Parson's Beach by William B. Hoyt




















Click to enlarge.

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

History

 

An Insight

 

I see wonderful things

 

Offbeat Humor

 



















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Data Talks

 

Rainy day on Vesterbrogade, Copenhagen by Paul Gustav Fischer (Danish, 22 July 1860 - 5 January 1934)

Rainy day on Vesterbrogade, Copenhagen by Paul Gustav Fischer (Danish, 22 July 1860 - 5 January 1934)
















Click to enlarge.