Now to my mind, a wasp has all the know-how in the world on making paper. In fact it occurs to me that maybe man learned about paper from watching the wasp chew up cellulose and spit it back into the world with a new format.
But this know-how was sure different from the "knowing-that" which occurred to the egyptian or whomever that first intellectually encapsulated the whole paper-making into a distinctly human fetish. And the reason for the paper was no longer a home, it was words. Man those words! What a concept! Something new for the world to chew on, words on paper. What do we do with our ability to make words? A wiki-spouting dweeb might paste in: In this article, and in epistemology in general, the kind of knowledge usually discussed is propositional knowledge, also known as "knowledge-that" as opposed to "knowledge-how." For example: in mathematics, it is known * that* 2 + 2 = 4, but there is also knowing *how* to add two numbers. Many (but not all) philosophers therefore think there is an important distinction between "knowing that" and "knowing how", with epistemology primarily interested in the former. This distinction is recognized linguistically in many languages, though not in modern Standard English (N.B. some languages related to English still do retain these verbs, as in Scots: "wit" and "ken"). In *Personal Knowledge*, Michael Polanyi articulates a case for the epistemological relevance of both forms of knowledge; using the example of the act of balance involved in riding a motorcycle, he suggests that the theoretical knowledge of the physics involved in maintaining a state of balance cannot substitute for the practical knowledge of how to ride, and that it is important to understand how both are established and grounded. Of course, "words on paper" is an archaic term, soon to be outmoded by flickers on screen. But I have a feeling the terminology will be around as long as there is still thought. Something about the magic of words, on paper, that persists. Despite changes in fashion and distribution. Carse - 52} "To look is a territorial activity. It is to observe one thing after another within a bounded space--as though in time it can all be seen. Academic fields are such territories. Sometimes everything in a field finally does get looked at and defined--that is, placed in its proper location. Mechanics and rhetoric are such fields. Physics may prove to be. Biological mysteries fall away at an astonishing rate. It becomes increasingly difficult to find something new to look at. When we pass from looking to seeing, we do not therefore lose our sight of the objects observed. Seeing, in fact, does not disturb our looking at all. It rather places us in that territory as its genius, aware that our imagination does not create within its outlines, but creates the outlines themselves. John: So what Carse is saying to us, is that we create the outlines of our bucket. It's not a hard, fast, rigidly and academically defined shape at all! But a creative act of will. I get it now. Which means I can play with my sieve and none to say nay. Moq_Discuss mailing list Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org Archives: http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ http://moq.org/md/archives.html
