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The alternative to realism sketched in this book proposes a way of thinking in which 'things' are replaced with 'events'. Objects and entities are not inert things lurching from moment to moment. They are the events human beings deem important enough or, like hurricanes, lively enough, to warrant naming for future reference. I know these sketches will not convince anyone that the world is not an actual place full of actual things, but I think I can persuade readers to take an alternative account for a test drive. In this rendition, events have pride of place. Commonsense notions of things and…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
The alternative to realism sketched in this book proposes a way of thinking in which 'things' are replaced with 'events'. Objects and entities are not inert things lurching from moment to moment. They are the events human beings deem important enough or, like hurricanes, lively enough, to warrant naming for future reference. I know these sketches will not convince anyone that the world is not an actual place full of actual things, but I think I can persuade readers to take an alternative account for a test drive. In this rendition, events have pride of place. Commonsense notions of things and entities are figures of speech and computational aids like Graphical User Interfaces (GUIs) on personal computers. If the world is an event, it is as young now as it ever was. You and I share in this vivaciousness. We emerge out of, then subside into, what is going on. You and I also emerge in one another's awareness, and then talk the world and a bit of stuff going on into one another's view. This 'understanding reboot' could have secular benefits. Political and economic problems could be seen as rising from below rather than trickling down from Hitlers, Kim Jong-uns and Donald Trumps. People would see themselves as conduits through which profits siphon from the bottom to the top and mischief flows the other way.
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Autorenporträt
Born in 1942, I was the first of seven children born to an Irish father and French mother. We lived on a 100 acre farm near Ivanhoe, Ontario. In my 'good old days', we earned our living with farming, subsistence activities and off-farm work. Pigs and chickens were always underfoot. Cows kept our fields trimmed until excused from such duties and the indignity of old age. Children kept turning up.The family next door had nine girls and one boy. Until puberty fostered interest in other delicacies, we fished, swam and picked strawberries and raspberries along fence rows. We cut firewood, milked cows and cleaned barns. I did not start school until I was seven. With my mother's help and lack of entertainment options, I could read by this time.This accomplishment was occasionally brandished by our beleaguered teacher hoping to motivate students who already had important things on their minds. The result was that I spent lunch-hours further sharpening reading skills and keeping out of harm's way. I read hundreds of science fiction novels, Tarzan novels and every Zane Grey book in existence. I read Henry Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Immanuel Kant and a Protestant Bible kept in a secret place in our Catholic barn. (The only thing worse would have been a copy of the Koran, which I did not know existed). Much later, I tackled A. N. Whitehead's 'Process and Reality', and confess that it remains a 'work in process. Mr. Whitehead provides a wonderfully illuminating way of thinking about what is going on. My project involves seeing what light this formidable vantage point sheds upon economic and political problems. Along the way, I develop notions about subjectivity and consciousness that I do not think Mr. Whitehead had in mind.