QUESTION: In fact, you seem to miss those eras in which we still believed in something, in the power to organize the world through language, either in order to grasp it better or to transform its real, harmful aspects.
ANSWER: What is strange is that all these men, who were truly passionate about what lies beyond pure sensation, were able to say such different things. Their experience is praiseworthy. It is their life. It does not matter that they wrote any old thing, or that they seemed, like Hegel, to resolve all the contradictions inherent in philosophy and Becoming at the same time. We might suspect some of them of skilfully plugging the gaps and therefore dismiss the content proper. We give up trying to discover whether a kilo of Hegel is worth more than a kilo of Aristotle and abandon attempting to construct scales for the purpose of philosophical judgement. So what does that leave?
This is what interests me - their vanity or their detachment. For example I nearly died of laughter when I read Descartes admitting sanctimoniously in words I can't exactly remember, but whose gist was "that what had eluded by no means the least of his predecessors had finally appeared to him". His thought is so universally true that those who have not thought the same thing are missing the point. In a word, the whole of Greek philosophy is reduced to nothing. I should mention in passing that for me Descartes represents the epitome of a normalized schizophrenic - an ordinary little man who truly believes that he sees reality because he covers his perceptions with mental projections. Cogito ergo sum! Any awakened one must say exactly the opposite.
Descartes represents a form of pure counter-initiation and is the emblem of France, the most superficial country on the planet, although it has rivals in England, which is redeemed by its host of mystical poets, and Japan, which gives the appearance of being serious, but is a nation in which vanity has the highest credentials. Moving on, however, and even assuming that judgement is arbitrary and dictated by karmic traces, the fact remains that I learned to think in French on this occasion. In short, France preferred Descartes to more profound thinkers who were left in the shade – La Rochefoucauld, Chamfort, La Fontaine, who was taken for a fabulist, and Montaigne, of course. Descartes mesmerized generations of people who were forced to convince themselves at school that he was a great thinker. This is false. He committed huge blunders and made serious errors in his scientific experiments, which did not tally with his vision, thus demonstrating that he was hypnotized by his own approach and refused to acknowledge what could not fit into it. There are a lot of Descartes around – intelligent intellectuals who redefine the shape of the world before having absorbed it. For me, philosophy is the history of the defeat of thought, because just beside it there lies awakening. In fact, it is philosophy, rather than religion, which rubs shoulders with awakening without seeing it, because there are constraints in philosophy, but they remains in the mental realm. In the path of awakening this mental constraint is in solidarity with other constraints. You cannot just do anything with your body, desires and relationships. The ordinary philosopher is a great guy in front of his desk, who becomes an ordinary man when he is not thinking. Althusser strangled his wife. In fact, that makes sense as he was the last interpreter of Marx before the cause died out. Nietzsche had his onanism, which seemed to pursue him and the ancient Greeks rather too often let themselves go and seduced their disciples after pronouncing fine speeches. This is not a judgement, just an observation, as everybody can do absolutely whatever they like. The spirit can produce wonderful things, but the body and personality lag behind. Sartre ate like a pig and had an amazingly rich sex life for a man disguised as a toad.
Philosophy is all well and good, therefore - there is something stirring -,but if the rest does not follow then it is pathetic. Generally speaking, the rest does not follow. Rousseau lived in a state of blatant self-contradiction, on education, the scholastic philosophers were wholly lacking in sincerity out of guilt and brainwashing. Saint Augustine seems to have spent his life trying to seduce himself by advertising Christ. Pascal went too far with his hair shirt. I can't help it if the musclemen of representation had so many problems with their bodies, their desires and their "incarnation", as we say these days. Half of philosophy is devoted exclusively to what aspires upward - acknowledgement of the Mystery, the Good, broadly speaking, of Plato in which one can flog a whole army of virtues and qualities, a cavalcade of higher intense wishes - and to the resistance from below, from the cycle, remanence, desire, contingency, the body, what is perishable, concrete, material, the flesh - feelings and notions which are all tangled together, with the need to annoy us as their common denominator.
At the end of the day, being a philosopher is to pronounce in one's own way on this duality, whether one opposes it, bypasses it or is reconciled with it. At some point or other every philosopher will stumble across the enigma of fragmentation and draw his material from it – the subtle and the thick, the bodily (or tangible) and the intelligible, the spontaneous and the restrained, the new and the repetitive and anything else which one might establish by way of fundamental pairs of opposites: the generic and the individual, the actual and the potential – the list is endless. Then one just needs to draw on these and establish the proportions. Philosophy, therefore, refers back to whatever each individual wants to do with it. But once the words have been spun together, what has really changed for their author? What purpose does the approach he has taken serve?
In general, we do not go this far, because the work has the reputation of being real and of counting for more than its author. An awakened one says the opposite. He blithely forgives these fanatical writers and stubborn advocates of representation for missing the point of Reality by dint of having tried to capture it. He can be indifferent to it or sympathetic. He sees Descartes by his woodstove boasting "I know everything", feels Pascal torturing himself, sees Voltaire showing off quite magnificently without really believing in it, and Rousseau getting into a tangle trying to justify what he is not doing by stating the principles behind what he ought to be doing. He sees Nietzsche, who thinks he is God Almighty, and these wonderful attempts at Being, in which contradictions jostle flashes of genius like sheep dogs rounding up a large flock, appeal to him. The awakened one dispenses with the nonsense and writings, or uses then to induce sleep when required, although Montaigne and some other sincere, unadorned ones are far from uninteresting. Remarkable attempts to live and be appear behind the repellent speeches. Schopenhauer established that philosophers spend their time changing the name of suffering to absolve themselves of responsibility for being powerless to curb it. This simple vision redeems all his writings, even the most bitter ones, because it is a true vision.
Which philosopher's life could be exemplary? This could be the criterion, at the risk of drifting towards the mythical word wisdom. However, we become attached to different ways of thinking and not to what these ways of thinking produce inside the self. Representations change and Reality becomes elusive as soon as it is named (The Tao which is described is not the TAO), but the job of classifying orders brings new virtualities, leads to new potential and renews itself. Even morality evolves (lurking in philosophy like a poacher, surreptitiously corrupting it with its recipes). Beliefs change, but illusions remain.
Awakening is often unexpected fulfilment when we have lost everything, even hope, like that little sweet we suck when our shoes hurt while we are walking along. For the awakened one, hope is absolute faith in Reality, whatever it may be, even if it still vague or unknown. It is absolute faith in the present moment, whether it brings suffering or joy is immaterial, and not in that golden slug of a future in which things would sort themselves out and which forces promises to emerge on the path which we challenge. This is wrong, totally wrong. All feelings must be accepted so that awakening can occur. While ever we evade ourselves, with or without the collusion of "God", then awakening is impossible.
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