11.11.11

November 11 (11.11) is Pepero Day in South Korea. A Pepero 빼빼로 is a "cookie [stick] dipped in chocolate", a favourite snack in South Korea and Japan, where it is known as Pocky. Pepero Day is somewhat similar to Valentine's Day, but instead of chocolates, roses or other typical Valentine's Day gifts, the gift of choice is Peperos.

This year, however, November 11th is extra special in Korea as children born will have identity numbers that start with "111111". To ensure that their children have a sestet of ones in their identity numbers many pregnant mothers have gone out of their way to get c-section surgeries scheduled for today. According to Reuters, c-sections scheduled for 11 November 2011 is up by 20% from usual. (I'm obliged to a South African friend for sending me the link to the news article.)

Speaking of South Africa, annually on the weekend closest to 11 November, South Africa celebrates Poppy Day. It is in remembrance of those that died and fought in battle during World War I, World War II and other wars. World War I ended at the eleventh hour on 11 November 1918 when Germany signed the armistice. In South Africa it is known as Poppy Day because poppy flowers are traditionally sold as part of fundraising initiatives by the South African Legion to help veterans of war. The poppy was chosen because it grew on the battlefields of Flanders (Western Front), where many soldiers died. A poem written by Colonel John McCrae (a Canadian medic) brought wider attention to the poppie connection.

In Flanders Fields -- John McCrae

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place;wait and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead, short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields!

The red poppie became the symbolic flower of remembrance.

In South Africa Poppy Day remembrance ceremonies are held on the Saturday nearest 11 November and some services are also held on the adjacent Sunday. It is not a national holiday, so I'm not sure how many people actually observe it, but it's function is similar to Remembrance Day or Armistice Day celebrated by countries of the Common Wealth and Veterans Day in the United States which is also celebrated on November 11th. South African's typically use Poppy Day to remember South African soldiers who died in WWI, WWII, the Korean War and Border War, as well as surviving veterans of war. Ceremonies are typically held in Cape Town and Pretoria.

November 11 is also Nigel Tufnel Day kept by the cult following of the 1984 mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap. This day was chosen because of the recurrence of the number 11, which became a significant number in the movie, based on one particularly scene in which the character Nigel Tufnel explains how they can turn the volume of their amplifiers "up to eleven", making them "one louder" that other bands that can only go up to ten. The quote "up to eleven" has become pop-culture idiom, suggesting that something is done better, beyond it's expected limitations. I'm not sure exactly how one celebrates Nigel Tufnel Day; I guess you make sure to do something "up to eleven."

Also from popular culture and linked with 11 November 2011 is the movie that is supposed to have been released today, 11-11-11. While it may have gone on circuit in other parts of the world, I didn't see it showing in Korea (I went to the movies today). Then again, I'm not particularly interested as I avoid horror movies; this film was directed by Darren Lynn Bousman, the director of SAW II, III and IV, none of which I've seen. On the other hand, I do like science-fiction films and this is a sci-fi horror. I'll wait a bit and first see how it rates on RottenTomatoes before I make my decision.

On a more philosophical note, 11 November is the anniversary of the death of the Christian philosopher Søren Aabye Kierkegaard, the father of Existentialism. Existentialist thought was most notably expounded upon by later philosophers like Friedrich Nietzche, Martin Heidegger, and Jean-Paul Sartre, but it was Kierkegaard that first focussed on the human dilemma of freedom of choice and the existential angst this causes. He wrote about it in his book The Concept of Anxiety. One example in which he explains this angst requires us to imagine a man standing on the edge of a very tall building and looking down. The man experience two kinds of fear: "the fear of falling, and fear brought on by the impulse to throw himself off the edge. This second type of fear, or anxiety, arises from the realization that he has absolute freedom to choose whether to jump or not, and this fear is as dizzying as his vertigo" (The Philosophy Book, p. 195). In short, Kierkegaard argued that apart from the freedom to be born, God endowed us with free choice. Because making life-altering decisions always cause much angst in me, I'm quite attracted to the Existentialists. Kierkegaard died at the young age of 42 on 11 November 1855.

11 November 2011 is also a day on which New Agers celebrate "Interconnectedness Day", with heavy focus on the Green Agenda. Previous such Interconnectedness Days were celebrated on 10 October 2010 and 9 September 2009. I guess next year on 12 December 2012 will be the last year Interconnectedness Day will be celebrated in a very very long time.

On a personal note, my first best friend, Matthys du Preez, and I used to celebrate 11 November as our friendship day. I can't remember exactly what the reason was that we chose this day as our friendship day, but we celebrated it as a birthday. Matthys was literally my first friend. I cannot recall any friend before him. Our parents were friends and because we were of the same age we naturally became friends. We also went to the same elementary school (a "plaasskool") together. We grew up on farms in the same farming community and there was only one elementary school where all the children in the community went -- a little school with hardly 300 pupils. We were so close in personality that many people mistook us as twins, to our delight -- I guess the fact that we often dressed alike contributed to it. We often finished each other's sentences and my mother told me that we seemed to communicate telepathically as we would sometimes just look at each other and seem to know what the other was thinking. Unfortunately my first best friend moved away when we were about 11 years old and due to the distance our friendship waned until we completely lost contact. In recent years I've started to increasingly think about my old friend. I was able to look him up and sent him an email with the hopes of meeting with him at the beginning of this year while I was in South Africa, but he didn't respond to my email. I guess he's not as sentimental as I am about those early years. In our late teens, early twenties, we both lost our mothers to illness. I think we could have been a great comfort to each other had we stayed in contact. I sometimes wish I could have been there for him during that time of loss and during other trials he may have experienced as a child. I have fond memories of our friendship and I remember quite distinctly the good and caring friend he was. I am very blessed with some great friends in my life. I have, in part, Matthys to thank for that. Because my first friendship had been such a very close one, that has become my expectation of a real friendship. Matthys' care and loyalty as a young boyhood friend inspired me to become the same type of friend later in my life.

Happy 11 November, for whatever reason you decide to celebrate it.

“Are you religious?” she asked.

Photo Source

On Tuesday night at 'The Way' Martial Arts Academy of Seoul my lesson was focussed on self-defence. This month on every Tuesday evening the Taekwon-Do class is open and free for anyone who wants to join and my lessons are more geared at real-life practicality, rather than the other various aspects one could cover in Taekwon-Do. Two or three people made use of the free class this past Tuesday. One of whom considered joining the gym so I took her over to the roster posted on the bulletin board by the entrance where I discussed with her the different training options and times available.

Suddenly she interrupted me and asked: “Are you religious?” Her question coming out of the blue just did not make sense to me. I have just taught her an hour long class on how to physically harm someone – why on earth would she “suspect” me of being religious. Be that as it may, I answered truthfully.

“Yes, I am.”

“You can tell,” she said.

“You can?”

“It's in the way you talk.”

“The way I talk?!”

I just couldn't understand how she could tell that I am religious from the way I explained to her the different martial art training options available, or the different times she could train, or the different packages she could choose and how much each one costs. I mean, how does a non-religious person explain different packages and fee options for martial art classes? Obviously I didn't use profane language as I was speaking to her and neither can I imagine any professional non-religious person using foul language while talking to a prospective client either, so the way I “talk” must involve more than merely my choice of adjectives.

Of course this made me think of Peter, the disciple of Jesus who after Jesus was captured and put on trial by the Sanhedrin, was “outed” because of the way he talked (Mark 14:70).

What I further found curious about this incident was that she never asked what my religious convictions are. It seemingly didn't matter whether I'm Christian or Buddhist, Hindu or Moslem. And I'm still not sure if her observation was a compliment or a sly insult. After mentioning that she could tell that I am religious from the way I speak, she mentioned that she “used to be religious.” I couldn't tell whether she is an atheist and that she is now more mature – as some atheist tend to think of themselves – and that it therefore doesn't matter what religion I adhere to, because it is all a little beneath her and that she doesn't need any of these religious crutches that us weaklings need to have to have a fulfilled life. Or was her comment that she “used to be religious” a sentimental moment – that she had somehow lost her faith and became non-practising but still somehow believe in a higher reality, a greater power or teleological narrative. And if so, then her statement was a compliment of sorts, because she could somehow notice something of that which she had lost as something I still have. While I don't claim to be a good example, a model Christian, or even one that “believes” in the same sense that stereotypical Christians do or even generally the same stuff that mainstream Christianity stands for, I do believe in a higher reality, a greater power and yes, some kind of teleological concept. And yes, even though I really dislike the term and even the idea of “religion,” it cannot be ignored that I do have a sense of trust and a type of relationship with (my concept of) God.

Like so many others of my generation, I am quite sceptical of “religion” and prefer the slightly less tainted word “spiritual” as a descriptive of what I am. Religion and even more so the Afrikaans word godsdiens [“god-service”] is very much something I disassociate myself with primarily on the philosophical ground that God – if we take God to be perfect; i.e. all-powerful and self-sufficient – does not need our service. On the contrary it is us, being imperfect, who need God. This then being a basic difference between the typical religious person and I, but also between the militant atheist and I. There are those atheists who pities my believe that we need God. It is a sign to them of my evolutionary immaturity and that I have yet to achieve self-actualization. Furthermore, since I'm of the opinion that there is in practise nothing we could truly do for God, seeing as a perfect God is innately in need of nothing, I am at odds with the typical Christian and practically all of the religious world as well. The typical religious person believes that there are certain things that we ought to do (or not to do) towards God in order to get God's favour; for instance, we ought to worship God or, on the other hand, not do bad things – the though shalt nots. No, if God does require certain things of us, it is definitely not because God has any need of such things, but because it would be to our benefit. Not killing each other, not stealing from each other, not coveting, and the rest, has practical advantages to us. It is that simple. The reason I choose to worship God is not because I think I have to do so to get into God's good books, but because I actually believe God to be worthy of worship; i.e. praiseworthy.  

And what was supposed to be a short description of my interesting experience on Tuesday had become a little philosophical and, yes, theological exposé. So I guess it is true, one can hear from the way I talk that I am religious . . .

Twee antwoorde

Onlangs skryf ek aan twee vriendinne min of meer dieselfde e-pos. Ek verduidelik dat ek nie van hierdie wêreld hou nie, ek hou nie van die manier waarop korrupte regerings hulle agendas ten koste van die massas te weeg bring nie, ek hou nie van inherente selfsug orals nie; en ek sou graag wou trek na ’n ander planeet. In die verlede kon mense wat nie van hulle tuisland hou nie op ’n skip klim en na ’n ander (moontlik beter) plek gaan. Maar vandag is dit nie meer ’n opsie nie weens globalisasie. Ons lewe in ’n “global village”, so al trek ek na ’n ander land is ek steeds deel van dieselfde “global village.” Maar wat gemaak as ek nie meer deel van die “global village” wil wees nie?

My twee vriendinne is beide profesionele mense. Die een is ’n filosoof, die ander ’n sielkundige. Hier is hulle onderskeie antwoorde aan my:

Die Filosoof

Lank terug, voor globalisasie, het die versugting om te ontsnap op 'n ander manier sin gemaak as in vandag se tyd. Verskillende gebiede was werklik baie verskillend van mekaar en dit was moontlik om deur middel van geografiese (en kulturele) afstand weg te kom van die dinge in die wêreld waarvan mens nie hou nie. Die skeidslyn hier ter sprake was dus gebiedsgrense.

In vandag se tyd, na globalisasie, beskik die global village klaar oor die "beste" en die "swakste" van (nie al die beskikbare wêrelde nie, maar) een of miskien twee dominante wêrelde, sodat die ander wêrelde nie regtig meer beskikbaar is nie. Om geografies weg te gaan is nou sinneloos, want daar is nêrens anders om heen te gaan nie.

Die enigste manier waarop die "ontsnapping" nou kan sinmaak, is as die skeidslyn waaroor jy moet ontsnap na (1) die lyn tussen die innerlike en uiterlike van elke individuele mens, en (2) na die lyn tussen die transendente en nie-transendente verskuif word.

Indien (1) die lyn verskuif na die innerlike en uiterlike van elke mens, dan gaan dit oor hoe jy jouself (innerlik) in die wêreld (uiterlik) posisioneer. Hiervoor bestaan daar drie opsies: (a) om heeltemal in die wêreld te staan en dus "van die wêreld" te word. Jy gee dus jou innerlike prys en aanvaar die uiterlike status quo, (b) om die ander teenoorgestelde pool te kies en jouself heeltemal van die wêreld te onttrek. Jy gee dus die uiterlike heeltemal prys en word 'n soort askeet, of (c) jy besef dat jou huis in hierdie wêreld is (jy is tuis in die uiterlike) maar jy gee nie jou innerlike prys nie. Jy doen dit deur die wêreld van binne af te probeer hervorm sodat dit begin lyk soos die ideale utopia waarnaa jou versugting is.

Indien (2) die lyn verskuif na die skeiding tussen transendente en nie-transendente, dan sal die mens se bestaan gerig wees op die transendente (wat hom uit hierdie wêreld en uit homself kan neem). Meestal loop hierdie weg op 'n soort mistiek uit.

Jy sal oplet dat beide opsies (1) (a) en (b), asook opsie (2) op 'n soort dualisme uitloop. Dit sal 'n onvolhoubare spanning teweeg bring - die een uiterste gaan heeltyd in sy teenoorgestelde oorslaan.

Opsie (1) (c) probeer albei die dele van realiteit tegelyk handhaaf, en behoort dus meer volhoubaar te wees (aangesien beide dele sonder spanning tot hulle reg kom). Die vraag by opsie (1) (c) is seker hoe "verander 'n enkele mens die wêreld"? Hoe verloor mens nie moed teen so groot oormag nie?

Iemand het een keer vir my gesê die Bybelse karakter Dawid sou 'n sielkunde studie in die problematiek kon wees. Dawid was nog 'n kind, toe hy van God verneem het dat hy koning sou word. Maar, terwyl hierdie wete (van iets meer) in sy gedagtes was, is hy van dag tot dag (vir jare) letterlik soos 'n dier in die veld gejag deur mense wat hom wou doodmaak. Hy het dit op 'n manier reg gekry om terselfde tyd fyn besnaar te wees (hy het gedigte en liedere geskryf) en tog ook 'n gedugte vegter (wanneer die situasie daarvoor gevra het). Dit is fasinerend dat een so 'n psige beide uiterstes kon hanteer.

Die Sielkundige

Die antwoord is Prozac.

Not the Destination, but the Journey

Philosophy 101: Plato's Cave

Book Review: The Abolition of Man

Two weeks ago during my trip to Gyeongpo I took up my reading of C. S. Lewis’ The Abolition of Man again and have finished it in the meantime some time back. The Abolition of Man is a much heavier philosophical treatise that Lewis’ other philosophical texts, e.g. Mere Christianity, but it retains his clear logical and practical examples.

I really need to reread The Abolition of Man again before I’ll truly come to terms with the depth of Lewis' argument. However, as is always the case when reading C. S. Lewis, one walks away with a sense of deeper understanding of Life, the Universe and Everything.

What especially struck me about The Abolition of Man had probably more to do with synchronicity than with the text itself. For some time now I’ve been contemplating a couple of ideas. One is about this massive undercurrent in the world, of global powers trying to push people into certain directions, which I’ve been noticing. Part Three of The Abolition of Man talks about such forces (“The Conditioners”) and the threat they are to individual freedom: “[w]e shall in fact be the slaves and puppets…”

Another idea I’ve been contemplating was that of the Tao, and how such a concept fits within the Christian theological framework. Unbeknownst to me, Lewis also saw a connection and uses the Tao to describe the “Natural Law”, i.e. those universal moral laws, such as ‘It is not right to steal’, which is found in practically every society. My interest in the possible connection between Tao and Christianity comes from Jesus’ exhortation that “[He] is the Way, the Truth, and the Life…” Some translations of the Tao is “Way” and “Truth”. If Jesus was speaking to a Far Eastern audience He would probably have uttered: “I am the Tao”.

The Abolition of Man is a good text to read for anyone interested in philosophy, morality or pedagogy.

Book Review: Philsophy -- The Basics

I finished one of my subway-reads a day or two ago.

In 2004 the 4th edition of Philosophy: The Basics, by Nigel Warburton, was printed; and by 2008 it was in its fourth reprint; clearly a good seller. I found it a nice introduction to philosophy covering the prominent philosophical topics: God, Ethics, Politics, Reality, Science, Mind and Art. For each Warburton introduces some of the main ideas and also some common arguments against these ideas (and occasionally counter-arguments against the arguments).

It is definitely a good introductory book to philosophy. It is regretful that an attentive reader is able to infer Warburon’s personal preferences from his writing. This is especially unfortunate for a book of this type – an introduction to philosophy, which I believe ought to be consistently unbiased. While Warburton does supply good arguments for and against the major topics, his writing gives away (although not overtly) his preferences to some ideas.

Philosophy: The Basics is a good introductory book, but for referencing I’d rather consult a Dictionary of Philosophy.







...ooOoo...

I think my next subway-book will be Die Mugu, by Etienne Le Roux.

Boekresensie (Deel 1): Die Nihilisme

Danie Goosen se filosofiese rede in Die Nihilisme: Notas oor ons tyd (2007) is nie ’n maklike lees nie. Ek is sowat ’n derde deur die boek en daar is soveel dinge waarop ek wil reaggeer dat ek besluit het om maar solank my resensie oor die boek te begin. Ek het besluit om my resensie oor Die Nihilisme in dele te doen; hierdie is Deel 1.

Soos feitlik almal bewus is, lewe ons in die sogenaamde Postmodernisme. Ek beskou myself goed vertroud met die Postmodernisme. Die titel vir my meestersgraadverhandeling is: “Die skep en voorstelling van ’n postmoderne karakteridententeit in prosa”. Vir my studie het ek baie boeke omtrent die postmodernisme gelees. Byna al die boeke wat op daardie stadium in die universiteitsbiblioteek was, wat enigsins met postmodernisme te make het, het ek onder oë gehad. Baie daarvan het ek deurgelees. Let wel, deurgelees; nie bloot gespoedlees (“scan”) nie.

Ek het groot ’n belangstelling in hierdie onderwerp en dis om hierdie rede dat die onderopskrif van Goosen se boek, “notas oor ons tyd”, my aandag getrek het. En inderdaad, Goosen maak dit vanaf die openingsmomente duidelik dat sy narratief gaan handel oor die Modernisme en Postmodernisme en hoedat hierdie tydsgeeste Nihilisme tot gevolg het.

Dit is allermins hoekom ek die boek gekoop het, en nou begin lees het.

Wel, ek het nou al oor die honderd en dertig bladsye gelees en moet getuig dat Goosen nog bitter min te sê gehad het oor ieder die Modernisme, nóg die Postmodernisme. Sover het Goosen feitlik die heeltyd gefokus op die dramaturgie as metafoor vir die wêreld. Bladsy na bladsy swoeg ek deur die ontwikkeling van die dramaturgie, die dramaturgie as filosofiese motief, die dramaturgie as geskikte metafoor vir die wêreld, en so meer.

Ek kan dit vir Goosen in drie reëls met behulp van Shakespeare opsom (uit Jacques se monoloog in die verhoogstuk, As You Like It [2/7]):

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;

Ta-daa!

Kan ons nou tot die punt kom asseblief?

Nee ons kan nie. Ek begin nou eers, op bladsy 137, met hoofstuk drie: Die dramaturgiese gemeenskap.

So wanneer ons uiteindelik by die “notas oor ons tyd”, maw die Postmodernisme, gaan uitkom weet nugter alleen. Ek kan nie eers in die inhoudsopgawe soek vir die relevante hoofstukke, as doelwitte om na uit te sien nie, want daar is nie ’n inhoudsopgawe nie!

Maar kom ons kom terug na wat Goosen wel sover oor die Modernisme en die Postmodernisme te sê gehad het. Hy begin in die eerste paragraaf van die hoofstuk een met die volgende stelling:

“So het die modernisme vanaf die 1960’s en 70’s nie net die epog van die postmodernisme geword nie, maar ook die epog van die post-religieuse, die post-metafisiese, die post-historiese, die post-politieke, die post-humane, die post-etiese en die post-estetiese” (Goosen, 2007:22).

Hierdie enkele sin sê vir my dat Goosen dalk teoreties die Postmodernisme vir homself gekonkretiseer het, maar dat hy heeltemal uitvoeling is met die postmoderne mens. Al daardie “post”-samevoegings van Goosen is dalk waar vir die Modernisme, maar ek dink glad nie so geldig vir die Postmodernisme nie. Die Modernisme was inderdaad die epog waarin religie ontmag is, die wetenskap die metafiese ontsê het, en die estetiese geëindig het in witverf op ’n wit doek, of ’n leë musiekblad; in lyn met Goosen se gevolgtrekking – nihilisme.

Dit is moontlik dat ek Goosen verkeerd lees, maar my verstaan van die Postmodernisme is geensins dat dit nihilisties is, soos wat Goosen “post-” beskryf nie. Terwyl die Modernisme religie ontklaar gemaak het, het religie in die Postmodernisme, mynsinsiens, weer herleef. Nie noodwendig in die vorige ortodokse strukture (maw die kerk) nie, maar as iets meer organies en natuurlik. Die meeste hedendaagse mense is nie Modernisties Ateïsties nie. Vir die meeste mense bestaan daar ’n metafisiese. Die verskil is bloot ’n verskuiwing vanaf aanmatige gestruktureerdheid, tot ’n meer natuurlike, of intuïtiewe “geestelikheid”. Vra die standaard Generarsie X’er of sy godsdienstig is, en jy sal hoor dat sy sê, nee nie godsdienstig nie (ek gaan nie kerk toe nie), maar spiritueel (“not religious, but spiritual”).

Ek het nog baie te sê oor daardie een sin van Goosen, maar laat ek aan beweeg.

Iets waarmee ek saam stem is Goosen se idee dat die postmoderne mens ’n tuisteloosheid ervaar – ’n tipe wêreldverlies. Maar dan gaan hy verder deur te beweer dat die Postmodernisme sonder gemeenskap is. Hiermee stem ek nie saam nie. Daar is beslis gemeenskappe (veeltallige gemeenskappe!) in die Postmodernisme, meerso as tydens die Modernisme. Die groot verskil is dat die Modernisme se gemeenskappe was/is geforseer (óf gereduseer) tot gedwonge sisteme. Daarinteen vorm die hedendaagse (postmoderne) mens spontane gemeenskap gebasseer op gedeelde belange en belangstellings. Die postmoderne mense is deel van verskeie subkulture. Neem myself as voorbeeld: Ek het ’n historiese kulturele gemeenskap, maar ek is ook deel van verskeie ander subkulture; belangstellingsubkulture, onder meer ’n Taekwon-Do en krygskuns subkultuur, ’n parkour-subkultuur; verskillende Internetgebasseerde gemeenskappe (byvoorbeeld die blogosfeer); ek is selfs in gemeenskap met mense via die Internet wat ek nog nooit fisies ontmoet het nie. Die Postmodernisme is geensins ontneem van gemeenskappe nie – inteendeel. Die verskil is bloot dat dié gemeenskappe nie meer lyk soos vroeër nie. Die tradisionele familiekring is van minder belang as die vriende kring. Nasionalisme maak plek vir globale interaksie met mense wat ’n gedeelde deler het. En so aan.

Wat sy verdere ontleding van die Postmodernisme betref, fokus Goosen onder andere op die linguistiese aard van die Postmodernisme, en haal Gadamer aan wat sê: “...this world is verbal in nature...” (Ibid, 72.) Baie postkritiese denkers is dit eens dat die Postmodernisme om taal spil, maar ek wonder of dit ’n genoegsaam omvattende onderskraging van die Postmodernisme is.

Eerder as taalmatig, is die Postmodernisme nie dalk visueel nie? Het die woord nie dalk plek gemaak vir die beeld nie? (Ek wens iemand wat iets te sê het oor die Postmodernisme wil bietjie iets nuuts sê.)

Verdere kritiek op Die Nihilisme, is nie Goosen se rasionaal nie, maar eerder die retoriese uiteensetting en toeganklikheid van die teks. Alhoewel Goosen uit sy pad gaan om dinge soos die dramaturgie te bespreek, los hy sekere van die ander hoofbegrippe in die teks, soos “syn”, grootliks ongedefiniëer. Wanneer daar wel definisies aangebied word, raak dit so abstrak dat dit van wynige waarde is. Neem byvoorbeeld hierdie definisie van die Modernisme: “...die modernisme [kan] beskryf word as dié kulturele geheel van dinge ingevolge waarvan daar nie net ’n abrupte breuk tussen transendensie en immanensie, eenheid en verskil in die werklikheid ingevoer word nie, maar ingevolge waarvan daar tegelyk ook ’n onvermoë bestaan om genoemde breuk tot ’n gedifferensieerde eenheid op te voer” (Ibid., 134, 135). Verbeel jou om daardie definisie vir die Modernisme in ’n woordeboek te lees! Mynsinsiens is so ’n definisie selfs vir ’n filosofiese woordeboek ongeskik.

Tensy jy ’n matige kennis van die filosofie het, twyfel ek of die gewone leser enige maklike invalshoek tot die boek kan hê. Goosen bied eenvoudig nie aan die leser ’n geleidelike oploop tot die teks nie.

Daar is meer te sê, maar ek gaan my vereers met die voorafgaande berus.