attempt at a refutation of the ecmandu/platonic forms:
there are two tables in this room. each table is different in shape, structure, and color… but they’re both still tables. why? is it because each table is a particular instance of a universal form ‘table’ that i have an idea of, and which exists in another realm? let’s say ‘yes’. now, i want to go to this eternal realm of platonic forms and see the Table that all instances of tables in this realm are a imperfect copy of. what is the table going to be like? will it look more like the table over there, or the other table? perhaps it doesn’t look like either tables. well, it has to look like some table, somewhere, here in this world… or else how would i identify it as a table rather than, say, an onion?
now if it looks like some table here in this realm (identical in shape, structure and color), wouldn’t i be able to say that if i found the table it was identical to, i would have found the perfect platonic form Table, here in this realm? well i should be able to say that, but according to the theory of forms, i could not.
what is happening here is a paradoxical inversion of the forms; i cannot have the idea of Table unless the perfect table which the idea is of, resembles some table in this realm. it would have to, or else i wouldn’t be able to know it was a table. and yet if it does resemble a table in this realm, it follows that at least one table in this realm is the universal form Table… which is a table that is not supposed to be in this realm.
any platonic ideal form of a universal must, by virtue of it being possible to identify it as such, be identical to some abstract, particular instance of it.
but it gets even more problematic. what defines a table as a table? what it is, or how it’s used? if i stack papers on a chair, would the chair be providing the same function as a table? it seems so. now if i were to object and say ‘no, you can use the chair like a table, but that doesn’t make a chair a table’, one might ask me ‘well then which of these tables is the real table? that one over there has only three legs, while this one over here has two shelves and five legs. if you say they are both tables, and yet they are not the same, the only thing making them identical would be how they are used… in which case the chair would then qualify as a table because it is used the same way.’
ah. we are mistaking the substantive for the ‘word’ table… we are imagining that there is a ‘thing’ that is a table rather than simply defining a table as something used in this way.
suppose i poured orange juice into a shoe and began drinking it (i washed the shoe first, so relax). is the shoe now a cup? if you say no, i follow with the same objection; show me the real cup, then. is it that one over there that is blue with a handle… or the yellow one without a handle? if you say they are both cups, you’re admitting that what a cup is does not determine whether or not it’s a cup, since these cups are different. it must be how these objects are used that defines them as ‘cups’.
while i’m in the platonic realm standing beside the perfect Table, at which plato is seated and scribbling something profound on some wrinkled parchment, i show him a polaroid of a table in my realm that looks exactly like the Table he’s seated at, and say ‘explain that, buddy’.
he replies ‘oh… that’s not the same table, it just looks like this Table.’
i then say ‘so what makes this table you’re seated at the Table? just the fact that it’s here in this realm, rather than the other realm?’
he pauses and looks at me suspiciously… this due to the post traumatic stress disorder he’s developed after arguing with all the sophists. then he says ‘yes, what makes this Table the universal form of all tables is the fact that it’s here rather than there.’
‘so then the Forms have nothing to do with what they are, but rather where they are?’
(at this point he starts to panic, and wishes he could bring socrates in to save him.)
‘i know what you’re thinking, Plato, and don’t bother. i eat philosophers for breakfast so socrates can’t save you. now then, in your original theory you stated that particulars were imperfect copies of universals which exist here in this realm… now you’re saying that the form of the universals is not what distinguishes them from the particulars… but rather the location of the forms, instead.’
plato shifts in his chair uneasily and starts in again…
‘but this Table is the perfect table, and whatever table happens to resemble it does not on that account become equal to it.’
‘look dude, i just showed you a picture of a table in my living room that LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE THIS ONE; made of the same wood, having the same weight, structure, shape, density, color. now, what on earth… er, i mean, what in the platonic realm could you possibly mean by ‘equal’ if not the physical characteristics of the thing in question?’
suddenly ecmandusattva materializes out of thin air wearing a blue coat at which plato stares in astonishment. he says ‘damn, that’s a pretty solid coat man. is it water proof gortex or just water resistant?’
‘it’s water proof, yeah… and it matches my blue eyes… did you notice? here’s the link to the post a picture thread at ILP. you can bookmark it if you want.’
plato opens his platonic chrome browser… the perfect Browser that is free of all the bugs the particular chrome browsers in this realm suffer from, and goes to ILP.’
ecmandusattva begins…
‘the solution to the problem promethean75 poses is the hyperdimensional mirrors.’
plato starts and nearly drops his laptop.
‘how do you have knowledge of the hyperdimensional mirrors?!’
‘i’m 47 gazillion years old and have been travelling universes forever. it’s the kind of thing you eventually discover when you’re like me.’
now i cut in…
‘gentlemen, i don’t see how hyperdimensional mirrors solve the simple problem i’ve presented to mr. plato concerning is theory of Forms. bring in as many mirrors as you want… still doesn’t change anything about my argument. and listen, plato, you still haven’t answered to your homeboy aristotle’s argument against your theory, either. why? you scared, nigga?’
plato furrows his brow and inquires.
‘what is a ‘nigga’?’
‘a ‘nigga’ is a particular imperfect copy of the universal Nigga that exists here in your realm. hey, you said it, not me.’
‘well i’ve never seen a Nigga so i can’t say such a Form exists.’
ecmandusattva cuts in.
‘the platonic Nigga can be found using the hyperdimensional mirrors.’
‘no man… you’d end up at the same problem with the Nigga. if i found a nigga in my realm that was identical to the platonic Nigga in this realm, the distinction between particular niggas and universal Niggas would vanish. the only way around this dilemma is to redefine the nigga to mean how the nigga is used, not what the nigga is. and if that’s the case, i can call a white boy a nigga if i dress him in an oversized adidas jump suit, give him an illegitimate job selling drugs, and teach him to say ‘ax’ instead of ‘ask’. i think i’ve sufficiently made my point, gentlemen. the platonic theory of Forms is nonsense, as the existence of vanilla ice clearly demonstrates.’
ecmandusattva makes a last ditch effort to regain the upper hand.
‘no, you misunderstand. we’re all collectively hallucinating niggas against our consent.’
‘well it ain’t against my consent, dude. i actually like vanilla ice. check this out; alright stop, collaborate and listen… ice is back with a brand new invention… something… grabs ahold of me tightly, flow like a harpoon daily and nightly…’
plato suddenly jumps out of his chair and drops the next verse.
‘will it ever stop, yo, i don’t know… turn off the lights, and i’ll glow…’
spit that shit, Plato!
plato, now doing the mc hammer across the floor in his toga, continues.
‘to the extreme i rock a mic like a vandal… light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle…’
by now ecmandusattva, appalled at the developing situation, has lost his enthusiasm. he puts his earphones back in, switches on his CD player which holds a depressing air supply greatest hits CD, dematerializes, and travels back to ILP without escalating his approach (so to avoid one or more of the five heartbreaks).
after promethean75 and plato have finished the song, they sit back down at the platonic Table laughing, and pick up the former conversation.
‘i think i understand what you mean, promethean75. i hadn’t thought about my theory so critically, before. you’re right; there can’t be a clear distinction between particulars and universals like i thought.’
'right. it’s only when you confuse yourself with metaphysical thinking that you arrive at problems of identity. what i’ve shown is that ‘things’ in the world are defined by how they are used, not what they are. the very idea of the universal either admits of having to be identical to a particular, or to being defined by its function rather than its identity. in either case, you find that there are no universals.
with that, promethean75 takes off his shoes, pours wine into each one, and offers to make a toast to their new found philosophical wisdom.