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What fundamental things actually exist? An *ontology* answers this question. It analyzes what kinds of things these are. We can ask why we would pursue this: What difference does it make to discern their characteristics? Every intellectual inquiry -- whether scientific or philosophical -- must presuppose at least implicitly an ontology. This ontology shapes the nature of the understanding achieved by an intellectual inquiry.
Consider the most elemental realities: What exists? Each of us can say, 'myself' and 'my surroundings'.
How do you know that your surroundings are distinct from yourself? Because you must explore, physically and intellectually, and are repeatedly surprised. Even if we invent mentally a complex world, our perceptions of things which are external continually clash with our imagination. This process, which psychiatrists call 'reality testing' because it's the key to sanity, causes us to quickly learn that are surroundings have existence independent of ourselves, in which events occur and objects are discovered that are unexpected from prior experience.
In this exploration, as toddlers we learn in a similar way that other people are distinct from us because they disagree with us and with each other. They do and say things that we have not anticipated: surprise is convincing evidence that their existence is independent.
As we explore our surroundings, we discover 3 types of objects: non-living (non-reproducing) things, living things ("plants" and "animals"), and products. Products are evidence of cognitive activity, and include such categories as tools, useful objects, decorative objects, and products of abstract expression - music, art, and literature.
Importantly, there are many kinds of non-perceived objects, whose existence is implied from their effects.
We gradually learn that our surroundings have verifiable existence independent of ourselves and are complex, and most objects are evidently transient. This existence, and transience requires a question: what are their origins? We discover that our surroundings existed before us, and realize that we had an individual beginning, implying the parallel question: What are *my* origins?
This implies that all things that exist -- which we call the cosmos -- have at some time, in some way, have come into being, and we ask, What began the beginning? Was the cosmos self-starting, or was it started by an external influence?
Let us call this first cause the originator, as if it were an entity. Yet, we fail to encounter this entity as we explore our surroundings. Hence this originator must belong to the class of non-perceived objects.
We must then ask, What effects exist might imply or reveal the existence or nature of the originator, especially including whether it is distinct from all things?
There are two classes of effects: one class is the cosmos itself, which includes human beings. It is reasonable to ask whether humans' unique ability for abstract expression, essential need for social connection and interaction, and universal moral sensibility, might not imply that the originator is an entity characterized by abstract expression, social need, and moral sensibility.
The other class of effects is in product objects, the most important of which, for the Christian, is Scripture - for it explicitly proclaims the existence of God, as a social triad of spiritual individuals that is characterized by abstract expression (logos) and moral accountability (both from and toward humans). We must either reject this claim or explore its validity and implications.
Scripture clearly and explicitly identifies God as the originator, and is the basis for belief that the originator is the God of the Christian scriptures. Our project is to understand how this reality blends with scientific descriptions, observations, and syntheses of the cosmos (including humans) that is external to scripture.
Thus, the persistent background issue for Christian theorists is this:
What might a Biblically-informed ontology usefully contain, undergirding the study of physical science; of mathematics; of consciousness?
In other words, what might be a possible, integrating connection between the Biblical doctrines of Christology and Creation, and the concepts and presuppositions of (1) physical science...
From here, read Dr. Schultz's book.
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/what-really-exists-a-dynamic-christian-ontology/7256528
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Joys of the Subway
The subway is what makes Manhattan fun and functional. Trains run frequently during the day and they run fast. One hears about stoppages as one hears of other rare natural disasters like earthquakes and tornadoes. There's the 7-day unlimited pass for $25 that is a tremendous bargain, while taxi rides are each $5-10 around town.
The routes do take some getting used to. To correlate the subway map and the surface street map, and the 'house' numbers, requires two maps and some asking for help. The stations are 2 blocks long, minimum, and where routes cross, the stations are connected in ways that are topologically interesting and not always predictable. Signage is designed for the cognoscenti. One quickly learns that "uptown" means more or less north, or away from Wall Street, and "downtown" is of course toward the southern tip of Manhattan. It is possible to get slightly lost in these stations. Asking for directions is usually but not always helpful.
Google is useful, but so are the people on the street. Someone wearing work clothes and toting a work-related container generally knows the neighborhood.
So we take a subway map and a street map, and consult them often. It makes transfers easy, and makes the travel efficient. It's great fun to figure out efficient connections. Still, there are moments.
Such as when we are standing in the Times Square station at 11 pm waiting for a B train that will take us straight home. There's a sign saying "no B trains 12:30-5:30 am." We wait. At 11:25 it dawns on us that the times on the sign are approximate; maybe the last B train has to be in the barn way out in Queens by 12:30, and it's already gone past. So we trudge over to the other side of the station and take a 1 train, which comes in 4 minutes, as usual. In 6 more minutes we're walking along the sidewalks toward home.
Or when we are descending into a new station. The signage is slightly unclear here, and we are heading for the E train. I say to a man, "Is this the way to the uptown train?" "Yes," he says, "down these stairs and to the left." We stand peacefully on the platform; an E arrives, we get on it. But the station names don't fit the sequence on the map.
I inspect the map. We took a downtown train, and are 3 stations into Brooklyn. But the solution is simple. We leave the train at that stop, cross the platform, and take the next E in the 'tother direction. We lose ten minutes and have no appointments to keep, except with our stomachs in a nice inexpensive restaurant.
Another day, we are hurrying to get to the Cloisters, so we walk up to the express stop at 96th to take the train to 168th, another express stop, where we can transfer to the A, up to 190th. At the 96th St. station, we arrive at precisely the right moment. On our left, there's an express train, on the right a local. I jump on the express, gloating a bit at our good fortune. Izzie tags along. The doors close, both trains accelerate.
I look up at the lighted route board above the windows. Oops. This express route turns east into Queens. It's a long five minutes to the next stop, Central Park North. We cross the platform there and catch the next train back to 96th, where we wait for another 1 train. I am feeling more constricted on time and less in a hurry, if you get my drift.
But when it works well, it really works. We're on the upper West Side at the Guggenheim, and want to go to Chinatown. The express 4 at 86th takes us down to Canal Street in about 12 minutes. When done there, we walk over the Ground Zero, then take the E to West Greenwich Village for lunch, then take the local C back home. Fast, efficient, no traffic jams, short waits for trains. It's a weekday in NYC.
On the other hand, if you want to go across town, the taxi is much faster and always less that $10. Unless it's raining. Then they're all full.
The routes do take some getting used to. To correlate the subway map and the surface street map, and the 'house' numbers, requires two maps and some asking for help. The stations are 2 blocks long, minimum, and where routes cross, the stations are connected in ways that are topologically interesting and not always predictable. Signage is designed for the cognoscenti. One quickly learns that "uptown" means more or less north, or away from Wall Street, and "downtown" is of course toward the southern tip of Manhattan. It is possible to get slightly lost in these stations. Asking for directions is usually but not always helpful.
Google is useful, but so are the people on the street. Someone wearing work clothes and toting a work-related container generally knows the neighborhood.
So we take a subway map and a street map, and consult them often. It makes transfers easy, and makes the travel efficient. It's great fun to figure out efficient connections. Still, there are moments.
Such as when we are standing in the Times Square station at 11 pm waiting for a B train that will take us straight home. There's a sign saying "no B trains 12:30-5:30 am." We wait. At 11:25 it dawns on us that the times on the sign are approximate; maybe the last B train has to be in the barn way out in Queens by 12:30, and it's already gone past. So we trudge over to the other side of the station and take a 1 train, which comes in 4 minutes, as usual. In 6 more minutes we're walking along the sidewalks toward home.
Or when we are descending into a new station. The signage is slightly unclear here, and we are heading for the E train. I say to a man, "Is this the way to the uptown train?" "Yes," he says, "down these stairs and to the left." We stand peacefully on the platform; an E arrives, we get on it. But the station names don't fit the sequence on the map.
I inspect the map. We took a downtown train, and are 3 stations into Brooklyn. But the solution is simple. We leave the train at that stop, cross the platform, and take the next E in the 'tother direction. We lose ten minutes and have no appointments to keep, except with our stomachs in a nice inexpensive restaurant.
Another day, we are hurrying to get to the Cloisters, so we walk up to the express stop at 96th to take the train to 168th, another express stop, where we can transfer to the A, up to 190th. At the 96th St. station, we arrive at precisely the right moment. On our left, there's an express train, on the right a local. I jump on the express, gloating a bit at our good fortune. Izzie tags along. The doors close, both trains accelerate.
I look up at the lighted route board above the windows. Oops. This express route turns east into Queens. It's a long five minutes to the next stop, Central Park North. We cross the platform there and catch the next train back to 96th, where we wait for another 1 train. I am feeling more constricted on time and less in a hurry, if you get my drift.
But when it works well, it really works. We're on the upper West Side at the Guggenheim, and want to go to Chinatown. The express 4 at 86th takes us down to Canal Street in about 12 minutes. When done there, we walk over the Ground Zero, then take the E to West Greenwich Village for lunch, then take the local C back home. Fast, efficient, no traffic jams, short waits for trains. It's a weekday in NYC.
On the other hand, if you want to go across town, the taxi is much faster and always less that $10. Unless it's raining. Then they're all full.
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