I See, I Saw an Eye See-Saw

I don’t know how I see anymore.

In my time here at St. John’s, I’ve been told that certain aspects of the curriculum drive one crazy. So far, I’ve had fascinating conversations, been exposed to thoughts and ideas which truly jolted, if not shifted entirely, my perspective on things. But nothing until now has caused me to very literally question my perspective as our classes on light. Philosophy is one thing, but when one is made to question how one sees anything – something so physically fundamental – everything else collapses in tow as well.

We take our senses for granted. I knew this; took it for granted, in fact. When it comes to hearing, the question remains muddled, but I can come up with a somewhat reasonable account, having to do with air, vibrations, the ear drum… The broader question of what a sound means, the arbitrariness of language, the effects of music, all can be philosophically discussed. The fact that they can be discussed, even if not resolved, is somehow reassuring. The same would go for taste and smell, and touch. Matter affecting matter, essentially.

But seeing? How does one see? What is light, anyway? How is it that I can recognise light as such, as light, but also see through the means of light and differentiate among objects, colours, shapes…? And what about the mind’s eye, imagination, dreaming, visions? Even stereograms, for that matter, have taken on a mysterious twist for me now.

A friend told me that it was “an interesting state of consciousness” to be spacing out and to see other people out of the corner of one’s eye spacing out themselves. Seeing most certainly affects one’s consciousness, and I certainly am consciously aware of the implications of not coming up with a satisfactory account of seeing. It’s driving me crazy, literally and figuratively. I’m sure you see what I mean.

Legitimacy and Trust towards Yerevan and Ankara

I used to think that it was a question of legitimacy outright, no qualifications. How could any government of Armenia deal with Turkey, especially with regards to the Armenian Genocide? The Armenian Cause may not be perfectly defined, but it certainly includes recognition of the Armenian Genocide, and it belongs to the organised Diaspora, period.

Sure, it isn’t like Armenia itself isn’t a part of the Cause; in many ways, it is the realisation of the hopes and dreams of the Diaspora. But for a government in Yerevan to deal directly with anything to do with the Genocide? Forget about it. Our Armenian committees, assemblies, clubs and unions have been around long before the 21st of September, 1991. Generations have dedicated themselves to something which was never even allowed to be brought up in the Soviet Union.

Now, Artsakh, that’s different. That’s something the Armenians of Armenia – and, certainly, Artsakh – have to handle, with whatever help the Diaspora can muster. But the Genocide issue is the Diaspora’s, with the assistance of the Republic of Armenia, with her embassies, and her representations to the UN, Council of Europe, OSCE, with her official place on the map.

This, it seemed to me, was the way it was working out.

These recent goings-on have provided a great deal to digest. I’ve read the articles. A “historical sub-commission” seems quite inconceivable. The protocols mention territorial integrity and the inviolability of frontiers, but not the right to self-determination. The Treaty of Kars was under duress, and it was under the USSR and not the Armenia of today. I’ve heard the arguments, I’m well-aware of the technicalities. But I don’t think that’s where the heart of the matter lies.

The real issue at hand, in my opinion, is one of legitimacy and trust. The legitimacy of the government in Armenia is questionable, not just for the Armenians of the Diaspora, but very much so for the citizens of our Homeland as well.

We all know that there never have been truly free and fair elections in the history of the Republic of Armenia. We all know that there is immense corruption and ineptitude in the way our government works. But above all, we remember the last presidential elections and their aftermath. Serge Sargsyan’s time in office would be under a cloud regardless of anything. And his legitimacy would be questioned no matter what, whether it came to dealing with the Turks or not.

All I’m saying is that if we had people sitting on Baghramyan Avenue and Republic Square who, as per our perception, knew what they were doing and had the nation’s best interest at heart, then we would have a much harder time questioning the steps they would take.

I don’t have to add that a profound question of trust is raised all the time for Armenians when dealing with the Turks. We have absolutely no real basis to trust their government. If we said that nothing has changed, that Turkish state policy has not altered over the course of the past century, that might sound like an exaggeration, but I’m not certain if it isn’t true when it comes to Armenian matters.

And not just Armenian matters. The Turks allowed themselves to invade a sovereign state – Cyprus – and they have been occupying and have recognised the self-declared republic in the northern part of that island for over three decades now. How can we expect their attitude and position to be modified, simply by having signed a document?

Armenians and plenty of other minorities have had and continue to have a hard time in Turkey. Monuments of Armenian cultural heritage have lain derelict, and many have been willfully destroyed. Renovating the church on Aghtamar island in Lake Van a few years ago seemed a petty gesture, and simply insincere, especially as it was rendered a museum, and even more so as that happened in the face of a border that remained, and continues to remain, unilaterally shut.

These, I find, are what’s really at stake. We don’t have a government in which we believe, neither in Ankara, nor, tragically, in Yerevan. It is a broader question of legitimacy, not just pertaining only to the Armenian Genocide, and the recent policies of the Armenian government call to question the way every other issue is handled as well, including Artsakh. No matter what is done, a majority of the Armenian public will perceive it sceptically.

Being Armenian This Weekend

What’s the Protocol on these Protocols?

These “protocols” which the Armenians and Turks – or rather, to which the governments of Armenia and Turkey – have drafted have caused considerable backlash, nationalist or otherwise. For Armenians, two main concerns are a possible, formally-written surrender to any territorial claims on Turkey – something which the Republic of Armenia never overtly had in the first place – and, of course, the possibility of a “historical commission” that would look into and perhaps obscure or gloss over the Armenian Genocide.

On “fad books”

I’ve had a couple of conversations over the past few weeks on what I have ended up calling “fad books”. You know what I’m talking about, mostly the self-help variety, semi-spiritual stuff or popular philosophy, popular science, even popular history. It’s this “popular” part which bothers me the most, I guess; the style of these books is so dumbed down, I feel like a child just reading it.

Now, am I being my usual snooty self? I never was much of a reader myself, so how can I judge? In fact, I don’t think I am much of a reader now. It’s just that two years at St. John’s has affected how I react to such things.

But there’s more to it. I sometimes get the impression that everything which has had to be said or done has already been said or done. I know that can’t be entirely true, but I often come across some spark of wisdom which some new age “guru” has contrived, only to laugh it off and wonder why said “guru” has never picked up Plato or Aristotle, or even the Bible.

I guess that’s why people study philosophy, to be exposed to ideas and how some minds – not to say “great minds” – have handled them. So does that mean that people should just stop writing books or making movies or drawing or sculpting…?

I want to say, “of course not!”, but I’m not sure why. Every generation needs to learn yet again what previous generations have been through (I guess that’s why we study history), but perhaps every generation needs to express it in a different way, hopefully in a more refined manner, though that is not always the case. If there has been social, moral, political or philosophical innovation in the past, there certainly has been a great deal of regression as well.

So, what to do about these “fad books”? I don’t like them, and in fact, I really think most of the especially spiritually-oriented “gurus” are charlatans, only out to make money. But does that mean that they do not cater to a specific crowd? I would like to think that Plato, Aristotle, the Bible, etc. caters better to any crowd, but maybe there is a question of taste, and time as a luxury too.

What is more, I cannot claim for my own part to have understood much from the great books at St. John’s so far; that would be overly presumptuous. However, the fact that I read a “fad book” and know what the author is saying even before he says it turns me off. The mystery of not being able to fully comprehend is somehow more enticing and ironically more satisfying.

Pensées sur taxonomie…

A project which was taken up this past winter break was sifting through my grandfather’s library. He passed away in 1995, the Lord rest his soul. A learned man, very much beloved and respected by his family, friends and colleagues, both in his pedagogical profession and also in his Armenian activities.

He had amassed quite a collection over the years, and my job was to sort it all out. I spent very many very pleasant hours not just going through interesting tomes, but also gleaning aspects of the life of this close relative of mine, with whom I did not quite get the opportunity to forge a mature relationship.

The additional sentiment that I want to share, which is the main reason I am writing this, really, is how I began to categorise the books, which immediately reminded me of that first bit of freshman lab at St. John’s. Who says a Johnnie education does not have practical value? I asked myself, “What is the telos of this taxonomy? What is the purpose of this item?”, and, suddenly, it became clear which volume belonged in which pile. :-)

Fast forward about a week. I came across a fascinating, fascinating toy this evening. A little spherical object, with a single-line screen and just a few buttons. “Q20”, it is called, or something to that effect, as it’s simply a twenty questions game. It starts by asking “Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Other or Unknown?”, and after that, one chooses answers “Yes”, “No”, “Sometimes” and “Unknown” to… well, simple questions, really, such as “Is it bigger than a sofa?” or “Do people use it everyday?” or “Does it come in many colours?”.

Believe it or not, the little machine figured it out every single time (barring the particularly obscure, “unfair” ones we had in mind, to which it would often be hard to answer the given question). Anything from “horse” to “cow”, to “komodo dragon”, “pen”, “coal”, “gold”, “ghost”… It was really remarkable. Uncanny.

And it got me thinking, naturally, as to how the machine works. Let’s say it has a database of every conceivable object. Somehow, it narrows them all down, at least initially, to three more or less concrete and two perhaps vague categories, and then, question by question, the specific object is “defined”. Fascinating, stuff, of course, just to think about it.

Now, surely EVERYTHING can’t be described in this way…? On the other hand, there are presumably a finite number of “things” in the universe, so they can all fit in somewhere, even if a part of it ends up under “Unknown” (I know my grandfather’s books had a “Miscellaneous” pile).

The implication of a machine – that too, a little dinky thing – being able to carry out such an operation is at the same time startling and frightening. What would I answer to the telos of the little Q20’s categorisation? “To determine what’s on the player’s mind”…? Okay, but it still includes just about every conceivable thing. So, when I do my taxonomy practicum freshman lab, what is my telos then? “To determine what’s on MY mind”…? What do scientists think about when they categorise and sub-categorise? I suppose it makes science, the organisation of knowledge, easier…

One must not forget, too, that it was a human mind, after all, which programmed that little machine, and entertainment, to say nothing of some income and profit, was probably a telos very much under consideration.

Okay, this has already turned into a ranting, rambling note. Let me end it before this gets consigned to the “incoherent” pile. :-)

Are we strong or weak?

Ogygia or Ithaca?

Ogygia or Ithaca?
This is the dilemma.
If I stay, I do not die,
I go forth and multiply
With Calypso on an isle
Which is so pretty. For a while
this seemed like a great deal.
But wait! What’s this I feel?
I have a lady, a kid too,
They await me. What to do?
Penelope and Telemachus
Will probably make a huge ruckus
If I don’t go, and all may be lost.
This is what staying will cost.
So, off I depart, for I am ill-at-ease,
I must lie to Laertes,
To the swineherd, my wife, too.
The kid I’ll tell. We’ll cry. Boo-hoo.
But in the end, all will be fine,
The suitors killed, my house mine
After twenty years astray led.
The only downside? The dog’s dead.