Pilot Post

A few years ago, I spent some time trying to decide whether or not I wanted to go to graduate school. One day, as a sort of experiment, I picked up one of my old philosophy books from undergrad (one of the first ones I ever read and the one that aroused my interest in the subject) and started reading. The purpose of the experiment was mainly to see if reading a philosophical, academic text in a non-academic setting was in any way pleasurable. If it was, continuing my studies in philosophy may not be the next step in my life since reading it on my own would evidently suffice to satiate my philosophical thirst. If it wasn't, then, depending on why it wasn't, I should either go to grad school for philosophy or give up philosophy altogether. This single experiment wasn't supposed to be by itself conclusive, of course, but it nonetheless served as an interesting self-examination.

What I found was that I hated it. It's difficult to explain why, but reading philosophy without any definitive academic purpose, e.g. as an assignment for class or research for a paper, was an utterly unsettling affair; it made me uncomfortable and sort of "fidgety," for lack of a better word. I was quite troubled by this finding because I knew that the true end of all philosophy is, in fact, itself, for it is of the very nature of philosophy that it not be ordered to any further practical use. Were this not the case, no one could truly know anything since all knowledge would either be circular or regress infinitely. So what does it say about me that I find it extremely displeasurable to do philosophy "for its own sake"?

To be honest, I haven't really come to a complete answer to that question, and I tend to avoid the endeavor. But I digress. I ended up deciding to go to grad school, and it was there that I was able to find fulfillment in philosophy again. For whatever reason, it seemed that only when my philosophizing was ordered to some definitive, concrete (academic?) purpose, it gave me great delight and fulfillment--which brings me to my present point. As a philosopher, I have a lot of thoughts in my head. I think about a lot of things. Constantly. But when all of my philosophizing merely floats around chaotically in my mind with nowhere to go, I find myself bored and unsettled. It also puts my thoughts at risk of being easily forgotten--a tendency of mine which I don't particularly like. Writing them down in a journal or diary or something doesn't seem to me definitive or concrete enough (for whatever reason). It's too private. Call me self-centered, but they need to be at least available to be seen by someone else.

Hence, this blog. I intend it to be a place for me to simply put my philosophical thoughts somewhere. Consequently, I expect it should have somewhat of a personal tone to it--something of a personal journal but in the public eye: hence "publicly private." I don't expect it will become very popular, and I don't really intend it to. If it does, so be it (I realize how condescendingly stupid that sounds); but also if it doesn't, so be it. I don't plan on doing anything to market it. If you're reading this right now that's already pretty incredible.

Besides, this seems like a better way to procrastinate than watching an epoch's worth of YouTube videos. ....right?

P.S. I don't know what it is about starting this blog, but the "p" alliteration is coming strangely easily.

----------------------- UPDATE -----------------------

2/22/22

Not that anyone's reading this, but there is a lot to this post that is now out of date. For one thing, the "p" alliteration is no longer present (ha). Perhaps (again, ha) as recompense, I am writing this on a date with five 2's in it (six if you don't abbreviate the year).

For another thing, I have started to come to an answer about why it was displeasing to do philosophy "for its own sake." Going into detail about it now would likely be fruitless, but to put it briefly, it has less to do with the fact that I was doing it for its own sake, and more to do with the fact that I was doing it alone and with no one to share it with. I've recently been experiencing more and more the truth that the good is diffusive of itself. Maybe I'll devote a whole post to this one day.

I could have simply edited out the original text of this post, but it seems right for nostalgia's sake to keep the original words of my first post on this blog. The blog will almost certainly die out eventually without anyone's notice, but I am a strangely nostalgic person--like, more so than most people.

That being said, that comment about watching an epoch's worth of YouTube videos is unbelievably cringeworthy. I'm tempted to say to hell with nostalgia and get rid of that sentence so as to never lay eyes on it again. But I'm committed for now.