and all of this matters, why? . . . .

". . . they all muddy their water that it may seem deep." - Nietzsche

It's always equally humorous and frustrating to me when people unacquainted with philosophy or theology ask me to explain things to them. Inevitably the look on their face progresses from inquisitiveness to a mixture of confusion and ridicule. Confusion generally stemming from the fact that I end up giving complex answers to seemingly simple questions. And, ridicule generally arising out of a sense that everything I am saying appears to be quite arbitrary and detached from any practical application. Some days I wonder at how dense these mere mortals must be, but most of the time I suffer from the nagging suspicion that they are probably correct in their skepticism.

After all, how can an idea change the world if no one, statistically speaking, understands it. This perhaps is the paradox of philosophy: that the study which was intended to clarify our thoughts has mostly served to confuse the masses by becoming so esoteric as to be impenetrable to the average person.

So then, what is it that draws me to all this? Probably some mixture of fascination and desire to prove myself. I'm not really sure. I must admit that I often find myself on both sides of the fence, arguing for the vast importance of such great thoughts and at the same time agreeing that they probably really don't matter all that much.

And so, I found it immensely satisfying in my recent studies of Wittgenstein (get used to it, I'll be talking about this guy a lot) that he believed philosophy was basically a frivolous course of study. This coming from the man heralded to be 'the most important philosopher of the 20th century'.

"What we find out in philosophy is trivial; it does not teach us new facts, only science does that. But the proper synopsis of these trivialities is enormously difficult, and has immense importance. Philosophy is in fact the synopsis of trivialities."

He is reported to have defied the common attitude that philosophy was somehow a form of laying foundation to or constructing truth as a structure. This was achieved by any number of other fields, but philosophy was impotent to achieve anything of the sort. Rather, sticking with the metaphor of building a house, if the sciences were the means to lay our foundations and construct our worldview, philosophy was at best a means of cleaning up the rooms of the finished product! Philosophy (and I would argue theology too) is not the "Queen of all sciences" but rather, and at best, the maid.

This is simultaneously a humbling blow and a crucial reassignment of my two favorite fields of study. Neither philosophy nor theology can really give our lives meaning. Rather, they are needed to give order and cleanliness to the experiences and beliefs that we attain elsewhere. In other words they allow us to rid our minds of garbage and tame what would otherwise amount to mental/spiritual chaos. Yet still, if we rely on them as our primary sources of meaning we will indeed be living in a sort of experiential, personal poverty.

Personally this line of thought is liberating and humbling at the same time. It reminds me that it's not merely what we think, but more what we do and choose to be that matters. I can and should keep studying in hopes to clear out all the crap that most people say in hopes to make their ideals and lifestyle appear to have depth. Yet I have to continually guard against the temptation to allow these new ideas to serve as mud to mask my own shallowness. Reading philosophy or theology is not a means to depth per se, but instead a means to perceive where depth is lacking in myself or in others.