25 Aug 2013

EGN SmartJobs Dec 2011
Edward G. Nilges acts in TV commercial for http://www.smartjobs.com, Hong Kong 2011, as “American CEO Seeks to Hire Chinese Guy”

25 minute workout first thing (6:00 am). Fresh damp morning (Morgen-Zeit). 50 warmups, 175 lowrise steps, walk, 75 dance steps with walking stick (the old soft shoe). No painkiller top-up so far, one hour after end of this workout. Painkiller (1) much later in the day (6:30 PM).

There’s a new patient in the ward who is drowning in his own fluids as his lungs give out. When I started working out his beautiful daughter was attending to him in the dim light like something out of Rembrandt. Sound of water.

I forget to call them “Chinese” because after all this time in Hong Kong, Chinese people look normal; and so do I; the facial differences seem insignificant. We assign meaning to them. My first Chinese coworker Lorraine, a Hong Konger, thought I was black because of body cues (I like to move to music, I am loud and somewhat aggressive in comparison to a Chinese male: I can tan as dark as Obama). At my last systems development job in Menlo Park I discovered on my last day that altho my coworkers liked me, they thought I was too “black” in demeanor to be a project manager (?).

Study

Kant

If I were a rich man … I’d discuss the holy books with the wisest men in town … all day long I’d bidi-bidi-bum (daven) … – Fiddler on the Roof

Will have to seriously nerd out on Dieter Henrich’s article “The Proof Structure of Kant’s Transcendental Deduction”, reading it seven times. I figured out how to use JStor, a library of academic journals including the June 1969 issue of Review of Metaphysics in which Henrich’s seminal article appeared, generating the neo-realist as opposed to “idealist” reading of Kant. For more than a hundred years, apparently, it was thought that Kant “really” was an idealist as vulgar (and as easily refuted) as Berkeley and as such no answer to Hume, who was no idealist, for sense data are mind-independent.

Kant seems to have been furious about this charge, first leveled against the 1781 edition of the Critique of Pure Reason, and he wrote the Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics and the second edition of the Critique to try to refute the charge.

But the idealist canard stuck until Henrich seems (to me, without much authority, at this point) to have refurbished the realist account. As a painter and in a pun on my “realistic” style, I prefer realismus: my elegant line as seen below (a couple of days ago) in the “Something is a Foot” drawing and post as well as my indirect technique is an attempt to give a solid foundation to “things in themselves”, the hidden grisaille of the world.

This interest in line and form as opposed to color may derive from the moment of my first “apperception”, back in 1950, when the intractability of the Other (the Mother?) taught me that “I” am having an ap-perception including both sense data and the knowledge that “I” am having it…cf. Kant’s Refutation of Idealism on this.

Ancient Philosophy

Not much progress but Johansen (A History of Ancient Philosophy, Routledge 1998) a first-rate. Re-reading for continuity the first chapter on the earliest pre-Socratics up to the Pythagoreans, primarily during my daily bowel movement “parade” as a way to relax and focus on Higher Things.

Notes on the Final Fall of Man

“OFFICERS AND OTHER RANKS ARE HEREWITH ADVISED THAT PAIN SHALL NO LONGER BE AN EXCUSE TO SUSPEND PHYSICAL TRAINING. AT YOUR SEATS YOU WILL FIND THE NEW ANALGESIC: A STRIP OF LEATHER FOR THE BITING.”

– Edward G. Nilges, Notes on the Final Fall of Man

Wondering if the tumor growing or shrinking on my shoulder will form a magical post-doom child as happened to Father Zerchi in a Canticle For Leibowitz saying, repeating after Fr Zerchi, wait until it dies. I need my grand-daughters to have all the help they can get for I was reminded today that the oceans have a wildly out of whack Ph acidity. They are really dying and I have really left a mess for my beautiful granddaughters: some of that crap in the Pacific Garbage Gyre is mine. The future is here and all I can think of is some madcap scheme to get my grand-daughters on board the spaceship for the new Eden-planet.

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