July 17, 2010

I have been wanting to record some events and thoughts of ‘the day.’ It is not too late to begin

The central result of my metaphysics is that the Void or absence of being is equivalent to the Universe or all being. Three consequences (1) The Universe has no substance in the classical sense of some unchanging and uniform thing that deterministically generates the Universe (2) The extension, duration, and variety of being is without limit (3) Individual identity is equivalent to Universal identity

The third conclusion, a case of the second, implies that every individual is on a journey to ‘realize’ ultimate identity. I suppose I could characterize the envelope of my journey in that way; it has always been that way in my ambition and dreams but now I know it

I think that attempting the realization, drawing a bridge between the immediate and the ultimate, is made more effective and is enjoyed more as a consequence of individual designs, intelligently applied. I feel that I have realized the ultimate in ideas in the metaphysics and its consequences (I call the metaphysics the Universal metaphysics but have shown that there is exactly one metaphysics and therefore it may be spoken of as the metaphysics.) This ultimate is explicit in depth but implicit in breadth. This means: the Universe may be seen as generated by the Void (or any state;) but the states traversed, which are without limit, cannot be written down or determined by a mind working in the present or any present

The journey is the traverse of these states. I feel that the ultimate in ideas is a shadow of the ultimate in being which is and must always be in-process. I have been struggling to engage this journey. In the journey, my achievement does not measure up to my estimate of my achievement in ideas

Today I ask myself “what if I was to die tomorrow?” Would my journey have been aborted or stopped where I stand; would my goal be unrealized? In one way yes; but in another way, every individual has already realized the goal and is on the path of eternal realization and dissolution in which there is, I think, occasional loveliness without limit but also occasional pain without end

In the diary I am not supposed to be concerned with proof and objection and response. These are in ‘the essays.’ But I have difficulty divorcing myself from proof and the rest. I will just say, then, that if some reader were to ask what does this mean or where is the proof or where is the significance, these may be found in the essays at http://www.horizons-2000.org. Diary may have more to say on these concerns later but it is more interested in ‘What is my experience today?’ ‘Why am I doing this?’ ‘What is its value?’ and ‘Am I escaping something?’ The list of questions is of course incomplete

July 19, 2010

When I was an undergrad at a school in Bengal, a friend from Calcutta (Kolkata,) in Bengal, used to often say how he loved Calcutta… and how some Bengalis’ coarse behavior gave Calcutta a bad name… and how this angered him. My friend was not Bengali but Calcutta, West Bengal was his home

My friend’s relation to Calcutta is almost precisely my relation to America (the US)

I am watching a movie, Remember Me, and at am a point where the ‘boy’ is looking at the ‘girl’s’ back as she lies asleep in bed. The back is quite lovely. I think how lucky I am to live in a world with simple pleasure, a world in which I do not have to worry about the next bomb exploding (perhaps I am wrong to think I am lucky; perhaps the occasional beauty that is experienced in adversity is so much more beautiful; I’m just saying; I don’t know; but actually, having experienced some adversity, I am not altogether ignorant of the idea of enjoyment under adversity)

The romance is nice but the boy dies in one of the Twin Towers in 9/11. My brother says he had a scheduled meeting in one of the World Trade Center buildings on 9/11 and the time was for just before the attacks but the meeting, which was to have been above the collision point, was cancelled. I am lucky, I think

I used to dream that my brother would be kidnapped in Latin America and that I would rescue him

This reminds me of when, one day, I was maybe 15, my brother 10, and there was a report of someone (or more) bullying him. My dad was on the toilet when he heard this. He jumped up, ran out of the house buttoning up his pants shouting ‘Where is he…’

This is a story about my dad that brings tears

In the movie, the boy dies. My brother is alive. I am happy for him (myself,) sad for the boy

October 16, 2010

I have been experiencing not writer’s block but thinker’s boredom and perhaps a little thinker’s angst. I enjoy the process of coming up with ideas and understanding. I do enjoy writing insofar as it is fresh and helps the clarification of ideas. Now, however, the ideas for Journey in being are more or less complete. The concept for a short essential version is also established. As a result the writing, though necessary, presents as uninteresting—perhaps I should talk rather than write. And what was that comment about angst? Fist it is that it is being / becoming that is now important—not writing and here again talking and persuading is more along the lines of being than writing. Second, I think a new long version needs to be written and I do not think that I have the proper combination of excitement and energy for this: the material covers so much terrain and detail as to be intimidating… and it still requires finishing. Perhaps if I were communicating with others online or at an institution the interaction might make the writing more enjoyable…

The original motive to a short version was to communicate. The new motive is to make writing possible and essential

Last night I saw Mighty Heart a movie about the search by Marianne Pearl (Angelina Jolie) for her husband Daniel Pearl (Daniel Futterman) who was abducted and finally killed by terrorists in Pakistan. Remarkable features of the story include Marianne’s courage in the face of loss, her understanding that it is the terrorists and not the Pakistani people who wish to terrorize, her refusal to be terrorized or victimized, and the warmth of her associate (Archie Panjabi) and the Pakistani people especially the Chief of Police (Irrfan Khan.) The movie reminds me that terrorism is far worse in Pakistan and India than in the West; and that terrorists should perhaps be regarded as common criminals (this may be politically correct but what I am looking for is the truth; I recognize that many ‘terrorist’ recruits are displaced persons)

I am watching the movie American Violet. The single actor whose name I recognize is Will Patton. It is set in Texas. The plot on the DVD cover is that of a black woman accused of pushing narcotics at a school on the basis of very weak evidence; there is reference to themes of abuse of power by DA’s and racism. I will report on this when I have finished watching the movie (well done.) The year depicted in the movie is 2000 and there is a brief appearance on the screen of George W. Bush campaigning for President (of the US.) He is smiling. I am reminded of what has been said about him: he is personable. I wonder why I have never found him to be so. There is of course the smile and he homeboy image but it has seemed fake to me. My brother who lives in England finds him personable. Why don’t I? I lived in Texas from 1978 to 1982. I was a teacher (professor) at the University of Texas at Austin. I enjoyed that work and I truly loved Austin, my Austin friends, and my experience there (many Friday and Saturday evenings on 6^th Street and the Lavaca strip; much hiking in 500 mile away Big Bend and Guadalupe Mountain National Parks.) I also remember Texas Style Politics: the down-home behavior and the flashing smiles that I came to see as a front. That is what I see in Bush and that is why I did not feel warm to him. Perhaps of course my liberal politics affected my perception but I am not truly liberal in an ideological sense: I am for what is right and not for what is merely ‘liberal’