Great job involving normal and genious thinkers. Its never a solo walk. The scavenger hunt or joke or faith are all better tacked as a community. Would faith or scavenger hunts be worth it if they were obvious. Heck no! . Thanks for sharing your thoughts with everyone. I am also glad you found the spider Cara. Sometimes the spider needs to be found, the scavenger hunt needs to be figured out and a small part of the mystery of faith needs to be revealed to keep us going. Yay spider🙂
Once again, a 10/10 post, and one that will likely be helpful to me this fall when I have to read this guy proper. I have thoughts on these ideas that I feel are only tangentially related to what you've said here. Hopefully they will be meaningful regardless? Here you go:
I am, in fact, thinking about the similarities and intersections between irony, humor, and holiness, especially the first and last concept there. This past week, I took the train to a park in Wilmette where, in 2022, someone had reported seeing Phiddipus audax, the bold jumping spider. I did this with the express purpose of getting a glimpse of one. I've been looking for these bugs EVERYWHERE for MONTHS; it's been my summer telos, for lack of a better term, to see one in the wild. I have had absolutely no success. Anyway, I got to the park, made my way to the exact location the 2022 specimen had been reported, and anticipated rifling through bushes and cracks in walls for hours. But as soon as I reached the spot, there she was, Phiddipus audax, casually climbing down a drain pipe like the itsy bitsy spider herself. I don't believe in God in the typical sense, but I thought about it for a minute there.
There is, I think-- and I could be wrong because it's been a long day and reading is hard-- irony in this: namely in the fact that I stood there slack-jawed looking at this spider and repeated aloud to no one, "It isn't this easy. It can't be this easy." But it was. I woke up, thought "I am going to look for a bold jumper today," took the train to where one was once seen, and saw one. By definition, I'd say that was easy. Maybe in the larger context of my search, it wasn't-- it did take me a few months total-- but in terms of the short term telos here (is that a thing?), I achieved my goal with ease, and then insisted audibly that no, I hadn't. Kierkegaardian irony? You tell me.
And there was a lot there that felt divine. For almost any other person, say the yoga instructor I saw teaching a class in the middle of the park when I arrived, seeing the bold jumper on the drainpipe would not have been earth-shattering. It would not have been ironic, or divine, or anything. It maybe would've been scary, depending on the person. The yoga instructor is the out-group. But I'm in the in-group-- me and the great spider God in the sky both understand that I have a quest to see a bold jumping spider, so for me, there is significance to my finding one. There's irony in my response, and holiness in its presence. I think this is not quite what Kierkegaard was saying, but it's what I'm saying, and that's all I've got right now. I wonder what Kierkegaard has to say about luck? I think that can easily be conflated with irony and faith, too.
And I like the idea that knowing this makes faith more difficult, because it does. I saw that bold jumping spider, and it was amazing, and I have not seen another since. What now? What can I take from this? My hope and faith in the powers that be to show me this spider was confirmed, but it took months to do it overall. How do I move forward from this?
Very interesting stuff, even if I don't quite grasp all of it. You put this very well. "Who has that person become but a husk, and what glue could she be but water?" goes HARD. I really liked this post and I apologize if talking about Phiddipus audax in the comment section is off-putting. It's all I know how to do. I'm really glad you had a great vacation. Thanks Nicholas. :o)
Not off-putting. I went, out loud, "Weehee!" when i saw the long comment. I'm happy to hear you found your spider. That was a lovely story.
There's some stuff in The Sickness unto Death about luck and fortune, and how it's some sort of second-rate, parrot-like worldly wisdom--a paltry hope and weak thing compared to faith. IIRC.
I don't think, as you said, what you are saying is faithful (hoho) to K in the details, but that don't matter. (P.S. When you read him for class, know that the Fear and Trembling Exegesis was real quick here. I left out alot alot! I did inded write my thesis on him though, so feel free to talk to me.) It has many similar features. For example, I didn't talk about grace.
Your story reminds me of grace, how the world will come into line with us in a beautiful, fitting way sometimes. His ideas about grace are not all that present in Fear and Trembling though.
Anywho, Im happy you found the jumpin' spider ye have been seeking. That's really cool.
Great job involving normal and genious thinkers. Its never a solo walk. The scavenger hunt or joke or faith are all better tacked as a community. Would faith or scavenger hunts be worth it if they were obvious. Heck no! . Thanks for sharing your thoughts with everyone. I am also glad you found the spider Cara. Sometimes the spider needs to be found, the scavenger hunt needs to be figured out and a small part of the mystery of faith needs to be revealed to keep us going. Yay spider🙂
I like "scavenger hunt," i dont know why i didn't think about that. I'm still waiting for my spider...my clue...
This is sweet. Thank you for the spider well-wishes. 🕸️💚
Once again, a 10/10 post, and one that will likely be helpful to me this fall when I have to read this guy proper. I have thoughts on these ideas that I feel are only tangentially related to what you've said here. Hopefully they will be meaningful regardless? Here you go:
I am, in fact, thinking about the similarities and intersections between irony, humor, and holiness, especially the first and last concept there. This past week, I took the train to a park in Wilmette where, in 2022, someone had reported seeing Phiddipus audax, the bold jumping spider. I did this with the express purpose of getting a glimpse of one. I've been looking for these bugs EVERYWHERE for MONTHS; it's been my summer telos, for lack of a better term, to see one in the wild. I have had absolutely no success. Anyway, I got to the park, made my way to the exact location the 2022 specimen had been reported, and anticipated rifling through bushes and cracks in walls for hours. But as soon as I reached the spot, there she was, Phiddipus audax, casually climbing down a drain pipe like the itsy bitsy spider herself. I don't believe in God in the typical sense, but I thought about it for a minute there.
There is, I think-- and I could be wrong because it's been a long day and reading is hard-- irony in this: namely in the fact that I stood there slack-jawed looking at this spider and repeated aloud to no one, "It isn't this easy. It can't be this easy." But it was. I woke up, thought "I am going to look for a bold jumper today," took the train to where one was once seen, and saw one. By definition, I'd say that was easy. Maybe in the larger context of my search, it wasn't-- it did take me a few months total-- but in terms of the short term telos here (is that a thing?), I achieved my goal with ease, and then insisted audibly that no, I hadn't. Kierkegaardian irony? You tell me.
And there was a lot there that felt divine. For almost any other person, say the yoga instructor I saw teaching a class in the middle of the park when I arrived, seeing the bold jumper on the drainpipe would not have been earth-shattering. It would not have been ironic, or divine, or anything. It maybe would've been scary, depending on the person. The yoga instructor is the out-group. But I'm in the in-group-- me and the great spider God in the sky both understand that I have a quest to see a bold jumping spider, so for me, there is significance to my finding one. There's irony in my response, and holiness in its presence. I think this is not quite what Kierkegaard was saying, but it's what I'm saying, and that's all I've got right now. I wonder what Kierkegaard has to say about luck? I think that can easily be conflated with irony and faith, too.
And I like the idea that knowing this makes faith more difficult, because it does. I saw that bold jumping spider, and it was amazing, and I have not seen another since. What now? What can I take from this? My hope and faith in the powers that be to show me this spider was confirmed, but it took months to do it overall. How do I move forward from this?
Very interesting stuff, even if I don't quite grasp all of it. You put this very well. "Who has that person become but a husk, and what glue could she be but water?" goes HARD. I really liked this post and I apologize if talking about Phiddipus audax in the comment section is off-putting. It's all I know how to do. I'm really glad you had a great vacation. Thanks Nicholas. :o)
Not off-putting. I went, out loud, "Weehee!" when i saw the long comment. I'm happy to hear you found your spider. That was a lovely story.
There's some stuff in The Sickness unto Death about luck and fortune, and how it's some sort of second-rate, parrot-like worldly wisdom--a paltry hope and weak thing compared to faith. IIRC.
I don't think, as you said, what you are saying is faithful (hoho) to K in the details, but that don't matter. (P.S. When you read him for class, know that the Fear and Trembling Exegesis was real quick here. I left out alot alot! I did inded write my thesis on him though, so feel free to talk to me.) It has many similar features. For example, I didn't talk about grace.
Your story reminds me of grace, how the world will come into line with us in a beautiful, fitting way sometimes. His ideas about grace are not all that present in Fear and Trembling though.
Anywho, Im happy you found the jumpin' spider ye have been seeking. That's really cool.
-N