Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Reading Moore's Paradox

Today (May13, 2009) I learned of Moore's Paradox. I admit with all honesty that I have not read any of the attempts to explain why the paradox exists, but I think I can explain the "solution."

copied from wikipedia (there's more to the explanation, but I don't feel it necessary):

Moore himself presented the paradox in two ways.[1] The first more fundamental way of setting the problem up starts from the following three premises:

  1. It can be true at a particular time both that p, and that I do not believe that p.
  2. I can assert or believe one of the two at a particular time.
  3. I cannot without absurdity assert or believe both of them at the same time
[end quotation]
The example in question is "It is raining outside, but I do not believe that it is." Therefore:
  1. It can be true both that "it is raining outside," and that I do not believe that "it is raining outside"
  2. I can assert/believe one of the two
  3. I cannot believe both at the same time
Ok, are we all clear on what the paradox is? Good. The explanation that follows is intimately grounded in my own personal understanding of Roland Barthes's theories of textual/narrative analysis and semiotics in general, so here we go...

- The statement "It is raining outside, but I do not believe that it is" can conceivable appear in no less than 3 distinct communicative contexts
  1. as part of a real-life discourse between 2 people
  2. as an example of the paradox itself, or in any context in which the sentance functions as an example within the real meaningful discourse
  3. as a narrative utterance[object] meant to convey a fictional occurence of #1
There may be other contexts in which this sentance could operate, but I know of none.

I. It is generally assumed that any grammatical modification of the sentence itself will eliminate the paradox. This assumption plays out in all the examples described in the wikipedia article, but since I have never read an explanation I feel I need to explain it for my solution. The structure of the sentence itself falls under what I call rhetorical displacement. In essence, the sentence is itself a rhetorical manipulation of a single idea ("I do not believe that it is raining"), which separates the phenomenon under observation from the value judgment of the observer. In other words, the displacement itself is meant to clarify meaning and expose a binary opposition between lower level observation and higher level interpretation. But, a fundamental problem arises because rhetorical displacement itself constructs a new syntagm which inevitably alters the process of semiosis. This schism of meaning will either be disspelled at a higher level of structure (in the case of #2 and #3 above) or else manifest in the form of a logical paradox (as in case #1). [more on this as my answer unfolds]

II. The reason that changing the structure of the sentence under consideration eliminates the paradox is directly connected to the context in which it is uttered [my list above].

III. Because #2 on my list posits the sentence as an example within a different discourse, the paradox itself still exists but has no bearing on the meaning of the larger sentence in which it is altered (a silly statement, but nonetheless important), and thus provides no answer to the paradox itelf.

IV. Therefore, the explanation for the paradox itself lies in the differing perspectives inherent in #1 and #3, i.e. the paradox exists in #1 but not in #3 for a very good reason: perspective.

V. In order to understand why the preceding statement is true, I must fully explain the semantic content of the sentence.
The sentence "It is raining outside, but I do not believe it is" contains two distinct meaningful syntagms operating in two distinct conceptual spaces.
  1. The syntagm "It is raining" is a linguistic manifestation of the act of observing/identifying a physical phenomenon: I observe the phenomenon in some way, associate the phenomenon with a linguistic signifier (in this case the compound verb 'is raining'), and finally state the act of semiosis as one of fact. The word "outside" further qualifies the experience by connoting the binary opposition "outside/inside" and implying that I am located "inside" a space in which it is not raining, but am still capable of observing the phenomenon in some way. Thus, "it is raining outside" is located within a rhetoric of observation.
  2. The syntagm "...but I do not believe it is" can be broken down in a similar way, but contains an additional level of unintelligibility, i.e. the "it is" of the second syntagm can be misread. Regardless, it is safe to assume that the second syntagm is actually "...but I do not believe that it is [raining]." Thus, the word "but" logically places the second syntagm in opposition with the first. "I do not believe it is [raining]" relies on two consecutive semiotic processes. First, the phenomena is observed (without any indication of the temporal space occupied by the observer), the association with a linguistic signifier is actively questioned by the observer, and a rhetoric of doubt shapes the form of the utterance.
Whether or not you accept my explanation, it seems obvious that the two parts of the original sentence belong to incompatible semiotic strands. To utter the phrase "It is raining outside..." is to unquestionably accept the instinctive semiotic chain, while to utter "...but I don't believe it is [raining]" is to reject the same semiosis. One cannot logically disbelieve what one has already acknowledged as true. Said another way, by placing the two syntagms within the same larger structure we have implicitly created a proairetic sequence in which the two terms of a binary opposition (acceptance/denial) share a completely illogical consequential relationship.

VI. The reason that perspective is the solution to the paradox now makes sense. In context #3, the illogical connection of the two segments is mollified by the creation of a narrative present which resides in a completely different conceptual space from the actual present. In narrating the situation at hand, the first segment is a description of a phenomena occuring in the narrative present made from the actual present, while the second segment is a manifestation of information gained by my own act of remembering that in the past (which is now presented as a narrative present), I did not believe that it was raining.

Confused yet? Just wait, that was the easy part...

VII. I wrote in V that the sentence contains unitelligible characteristics. According to Barthes, all text contains the hypothetical possibility of being misread. Long story short, text as notation for meaningful discourse fails to communicate the context in which it should be read. Thus, the paradox exists only when the sentence is isolated as it is above (and I have shown you one of several contexts in which the sentence is absolutely logical- as narrative). The other contexts involve the possibility of complete communication failure; i could conceivably musunderstand/misinterpret one or both segments of the sentence and thus understand the sentence as being completely logical.

VIII. THEREFORE, the paradox itself exists solely because of the distortion caused by rhetorical displacement. In uttering the sentence to another person in the real present, I have committed a grammatical mistake and created a logical paradox by uttering the two terms of the same discrete binary opposition in different rhetorical modes as though they were consequential ideas. In other words, I have performed the same act of semiosis twice, made a different choice each time, and misread the semiotic act itself.

IX. The paradox itself, that both can be true but I cannot believe them at the same time, then is misleading. The real underlying question is "why do we as humans perceive existence solely in terms of binary opposition?" For that question, I have no answer.

p.s. i know my answer is long-winded, confusing, cites no references, makes conceptual leaps that Derrida would jump all over, needs a whole lot more background information, and needs to be rewritten. If you read this please comment: ask questions, criticize, suggest things. Think of this as a rough draft I will be working on for a while.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Alliterate Soup

Alliterate Soup

Ask anyone, a
Beautiful burgeoning bourbon binge
Can cause cholera
Don’t destroy dandelions
Everyone eats eels each Easter
Forget forgetfulness faithful father
Go gangrene gracefully
Humorously hung hermaphroditic hippopotomi
I’m injured
Juke joint jezebel
Kill-switch keeping klepto
Like laughing llamas
My murderous mistaken mystery
Needs neoprene napkins
Opulent origami or obsequious optometry
Please proceed posthumous paper platypus
Quizzical quandary quotient
Rotund rodents rarely run rampant repeatedly
Surely someone should say something supportive
That they think they talk truthfully
Unusual um...
Very vociferous vermin
Why weep we won’t worry
Xavier’s xylophone
Zero

Alliterate Soup II (Girls names)

Abigail Adams and Annabelle Lee, Aunts
Betty and Betsy and Bonnie and Bea
Callie and Cassie and
Donna and Dorona,
Elaine and Elizabeth,
Faith and Fiona,
Ginger and Geraldine,
Hester and Hattie,
Inga and Iris, Ivanna and
Joanie,
Kelly and Katie,
Laura, Ludmilla,
Miranda, Matilda, Monica, Mary,
Naomi,
Olivia,
Paula,
Queen Liz and
Rebecca and Rhonda,
Sarah and Susan and Sharon and Sandra,
Tabitha, Tamara,
Uma,
Veronica, Violet,
Winona and Wendy and Wanda,
Xena and
Yasmine and lastly Yolanda;
Z much like Q has no obvious fame
When it comes to assembling a list of girls’ names.

Alliterate Soup III

Asinine ass-holes assiduously assimilate atrocities
Before benevolently becoming bastards
Can canaries cogitate
Do daring darers do daring deeds
Everyone everywhere enjoys enjoying everything especially entropy
Furious fornicators fornicate ferociously
Gassy gastronomes graciously grasp gourmet grapes
Hearty hearts hear heady heads haunt hungry herds who harangue hardship headlong
I insist in ignoring ignorant ignoramuses in icy Inuit igloos indeterminately
Just jumpy jumpers jumping judiciously
Kelly killed Kenny’s kayak
Like lugubriously leaping left
My my mister misogynist many mistakes make mundane miracles mysteriously more menacing
Now noone needs names noodles napkins Nehru nor
Opthemology origami original opinions or onanistic oppression
Perhaps people prefer pleasantly procrastinating
Quinine quotients quirky qualifications querulous quandaries
Repeatedly repeating repeated repetition repetitively repeats repetitiveness
Shits shitting shitty shit shittily should shun shoveling
Though they think thoughts through their thyroids
Usually under unusual usury
Volume validates valor
Why when we were warily walking werewolves wearily woke while women wilted wet with wild wonder
eXactly
Yonder younger yearningly yanks your
Zipper zone


Postlude

A bold canary devours every fourth
garden herb.
I just know,
like my name. Or perhaps,
rarer still,
the unusual vein whence
your zirconium.


Epilogue

The
point, I
feel, is to
have as much fun
with language as
humanly possible.
Fin.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

12-tone haiku

The concepts of 12-tone and haiku fit remarkably well together. The form of haiku requires careful word choice, clear imagery, and technical fluidity. Not all ideas can be expressed as haiku, not all haiku are equal. Similarly, not all rows are usable and not all pieces are listenable. Haiku can be elegant or awkward. The same can be said for 12-tone music.

To the best of my knowledge, no composer has made a specific attempt to develop a direct correspondence between the 20th century method and the ancient poetic model. Well, I have. Before showing you my first attempt at writing 12-tone haiku, I'll point out some of the thoughts which form the foundation of the composition below.

The basic 5-7-5 syllable pattern (though largely avoided by American poets), and the convention of presenting an unconnected yet related idea in the third group easily translate to the row, i.e. 5 notes + 7 notes = 12 notes or the presentation of the row. The 3rd group can then be easily derived from the row, and take on the same rhetorical function as the 3rd line of the poetic model.

Typically, haiku references time and place by use of symbolic natural elements, blooming flowers, bird species, temperature, etc. being obvious indications of season/geographical region. While such imagery can never be so explicit in music (a subject which borders on my own dissertation work), the potential for symbolic musical meaning is much more accessible/identifiable within a well-defined formal/stylistic paradigm. Thus, I can equate high frequency and rhythmic activity with the sensation of cold, and lower frequency with little rhythmic activity with warmth, under the context of the seasonal cycle.

Below are images of Haiku 4 the Seasons, written a few years ago. If you play piano, try them out. If you like them, play them for people and tell them where to find me. If you feel the need to spend money, you can buy them on coffee mugs and check out some of my drawings at www.rev63952.deviantart.com [end shameless plug]


Spring



Summer




Autumn




Winter



If for some strange reason you want to record them, go ahead. and send me a copy so i can shamelessly promote you as well...

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

obligatory first-post nonsense

first post, we'll see how it goes...

too much stuff happening all at once. papers to write, homework to grade, pictures to draw, family to go home to, career to build, PhD to finish, and so on...

i think the title of this blog says it all, really. "x": the quintessential variable, the placeholder for every unknown piece of information, the thing we don't know, the problem we try to solve...

question: what will this blog be about?
answer: whatever happens to be x at the time.

for now, x=this first post

so, run and play and have a wonderful wednesday.