What is your daily routine? Do you write first thing in the morning? Or do you first have breakfast, exercise, then write, or exercise eat and write? Do you write mainly during the day, or often carry on your writing through the evening? I plan on doing a lot of writing this summer and, in establishing my own routine, it would help having a model in mind to emulate.
Actually I talk about my routine in the interview I just did. I work at my desk, writing or thinking (with notes), pretty much first thing, interrupted by morning routines, and I keep going for a few hours. I usually play tennis or go the gym in the early afternoon. When I get back I either carry on writing or read (fiction or non-fiction). Today I’m going to think about and take notes on belief and desire (but notice I’m writing this first). I like to think about things lying in bed.
Not so bad a life. I should like to lie about in bed myself and think things over, but the dire and distressing imperative of pool-cleaning seems never-failingly to intrude. Now then, back to philosophy. Let me try again on the matter of, “Subjectivity and Symbolism”. Is it really the case that “mental symbols are necessarily infused with subjectivity”? The phenomenology of “inner speech” is parasitic on vocal language (mutatis mutandis for users of sign-language). So much is true. A derivatively sensory format is a condition on the reflective graspability of one’s thoughts. But why doesn’t the matter of subjectivity end there? If there is nothing, internally generated, upon which reflectively to grasp, there is no subjectivity—no meta-cognitive experience of anything. Meta-cognition is the sine qua non, the without which not, of subjectivity. Just trying to re-format the issue, as all aspirant philosophers should.
Seldom have I experienced “mathematical thoughts”—probably why I’m still a pool-cleaner. Philosophical thoughts, on the other hand, that’s where I excel. –I’ve sometimes had them while sober.
There does seem something peculiarly exhilarating about philosophical thinking, though whether there is any true depth or novelty to one’s such thoughts is another matter. But why, on the other hand, should pushing boundaries in philosophy feel exceptionally exhilarating? Theorists (as well as artists) of every strain have their boundaries to push, with attendant anxiety in consequence. I suppose Kierkegaard had something to say about this—a philosopher and writer, by the way, whom even Fodor revered.
What is your daily routine? Do you write first thing in the morning? Or do you first have breakfast, exercise, then write, or exercise eat and write? Do you write mainly during the day, or often carry on your writing through the evening? I plan on doing a lot of writing this summer and, in establishing my own routine, it would help having a model in mind to emulate.
Actually I talk about my routine in the interview I just did. I work at my desk, writing or thinking (with notes), pretty much first thing, interrupted by morning routines, and I keep going for a few hours. I usually play tennis or go the gym in the early afternoon. When I get back I either carry on writing or read (fiction or non-fiction). Today I’m going to think about and take notes on belief and desire (but notice I’m writing this first). I like to think about things lying in bed.
Not so bad a life. I should like to lie about in bed myself and think things over, but the dire and distressing imperative of pool-cleaning seems never-failingly to intrude. Now then, back to philosophy. Let me try again on the matter of, “Subjectivity and Symbolism”. Is it really the case that “mental symbols are necessarily infused with subjectivity”? The phenomenology of “inner speech” is parasitic on vocal language (mutatis mutandis for users of sign-language). So much is true. A derivatively sensory format is a condition on the reflective graspability of one’s thoughts. But why doesn’t the matter of subjectivity end there? If there is nothing, internally generated, upon which reflectively to grasp, there is no subjectivity—no meta-cognitive experience of anything. Meta-cognition is the sine qua non, the without which not, of subjectivity. Just trying to re-format the issue, as all aspirant philosophers should.
I don’t think all subjectivity is sensory–so that mathematical thoughts also have phenomenology.
Remember I’m nearly seventy and officially retired, so I get to stay in bed if I feel like it. I used to work as a head cleaner before.
Seldom have I experienced “mathematical thoughts”—probably why I’m still a pool-cleaner. Philosophical thoughts, on the other hand, that’s where I excel. –I’ve sometimes had them while sober.
They have the phenomenology of exhilarating anxiety.
There does seem something peculiarly exhilarating about philosophical thinking, though whether there is any true depth or novelty to one’s such thoughts is another matter. But why, on the other hand, should pushing boundaries in philosophy feel exceptionally exhilarating? Theorists (as well as artists) of every strain have their boundaries to push, with attendant anxiety in consequence. I suppose Kierkegaard had something to say about this—a philosopher and writer, by the way, whom even Fodor revered.
You feel you are at the limits of thought peering into the abyss, and sometimes the abyss reveals a bit of herself.