Thoughts on Descartes

Descartes' philosophizing epitomizes the sort of reasoning that made me never want to study philosophy. He begins with "Cogito, ergo sum" -- very well in itself. Then he says that he proceeds to radical doubting of the existence of everything. And immediately leaps to the conclusion that there is a God, proving the existence of that God (conceived of as perfection) by, and only by, his own reasoning, thought, perception.

First objection:
Now, why should I or anyone credit his thought/reasoning/perception as persuasive in the least? Why should I not believe that he is one of those he describes so precisely as "those who with more than a due confidence in their own powers, are precipitate in their judgments and want the patience requisite for orderly and circumspect thinking"? He certainly lacks no confidence in his own powers.

And why should I take it that his reasoning mind offers a surer proof of the existence of anything than my own five senses?

Second objection:
Descartes begins by describing cities and buildings as infinitely more perfect and more beautiful when designed by a single person than when they grow as a product of accretions by many people. Ah, but who decides what is more perfect or what constitutes beauty? If I prefer the patchwork village to the Parthenon, does that demonstrate a deficiency in my intellect, or does it perhaps suggest that beauty and truth themselves, as described by Descartes, are culturally limited constructs?

Thoughts on Paradise Lost

I had never read Milton, and had no idea that this was a work with implications as much political as religious. The anointing of the "Son of God" before even the creation of humankind was no part of the theology I learned, and is, like the whole Lucifer/Satan/fallen angels story, no part of scripture. So Milton's famous epics seem to me very much a reflection of the debates of his day, allegories of the strife in both church (individuals seeking salvation versus Roman hierarchy and popes) and state (challenges to monarchy.)

What I find most interesting is that Lucifer/Satan is a decidedly more sympathetic character in this excerpt than I expected. He is the one who defies absolute monarchy and unreasoned allegiance. Pride is attributed to him as a besetting and ultimately damning sin -- and pride there certainly is. But the kind of pride he manifests in his rebellion seems uncannily similar to the pride of the caudillos who rebel against the high-handed hegemony of the imperial U.S. ruler.

And, of course, to accept the continued domination of the pope, one must concede to him the divine sanction formerly also accorded to monarchs -- on no very obvious grounds.