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	<title>Comments on: The Cultural Commons and Small Talk Part3: Partial Knowledge/Fragments and Fear.</title>
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	<link>http://www.openjournalmontreal.com/the-cultural-commons-and-small-talk-part3-partial-knowledgefragments-and-fear/</link>
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		<title>By: risa</title>
		<link>http://www.openjournalmontreal.com/the-cultural-commons-and-small-talk-part3-partial-knowledgefragments-and-fear/comment-page-1/#comment-120</link>
		<dc:creator>risa</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 07 Nov 2005 20:01:13 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description>yeah, the unknown becomes exhilirating when you feel that somehow it could be good. music reminds us of the masses of potential messages and feelings obscured by the fearful blinkered binaries which get brought down around our eyes by the threat of violence.</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>yeah, the unknown becomes exhilirating when you feel that somehow it could be good. music reminds us of the masses of potential messages and feelings obscured by the fearful blinkered binaries which get brought down around our eyes by the threat of violence.</p>
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		<title>By: Yohei</title>
		<link>http://www.openjournalmontreal.com/the-cultural-commons-and-small-talk-part3-partial-knowledgefragments-and-fear/comment-page-1/#comment-111</link>
		<dc:creator>Yohei</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2005 22:50:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://open.touchbasic.com/journal/?p=198#comment-111</guid>
		<description>Heh.  Well, Rummy does end with that non-place, unknown unknowns.  What&#039;s also interesting, to add to your thoughts, is that although he means unknown unknowns to be both an epistemelogical and ontological vaccum -- it has no status as something in terms of knowledge and existence -- his category raises some questions.  

If one were to think this through in a speech-act kind of way, saying you don&#039;t know something can be considered a performative utterance: just by saying it (or thinking or writing it) you now know of it&#039;s existence.  In an incredible way, the very declaration of its nonexistence brings it into being.  Sort of like this famous example: a university president announcing &quot;our doors are now open to [hitherto excluded group]&quot; becomes more than just speech.  It ripples through &#039;the real world.&#039; Its validity converges at the moment of speech, when the mechanisms that have allowed that utterance to be possible at all (say, a change in admissions policy) and its future validity (that the public now knows about it) meet.  

At the same time, how much value do we place in acknowledging the possibility of unknown unknowns?  At most, its a tentative border drawn around a big empty nothingness.  In military intelligence terms, maybe it would be something like, &quot;the total of all strategies of groups we don&#039;t know about, that we can imagine to be possible.&quot;  So what you have is nothing becoming something which become infinity (as in an mathematically sublime and unmanageable amount of possibility), that functions almost like nothing.  Square one.  

But of course, as you points out, what might be scary for Donald is kind of exciting for most of us.  It&#039;s amazing to suddenly hear a band you know absolutely nothing about, rather than (and this is reverse vicariousness again), one you don&#039;t really listen to but &quot;know of.&quot;</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Heh.  Well, Rummy does end with that non-place, unknown unknowns.  What&#8217;s also interesting, to add to your thoughts, is that although he means unknown unknowns to be both an epistemelogical and ontological vaccum &#8212; it has no status as something in terms of knowledge and existence &#8212; his category raises some questions.  </p>
<p>If one were to think this through in a speech-act kind of way, saying you don&#8217;t know something can be considered a performative utterance: just by saying it (or thinking or writing it) you now know of it&#8217;s existence.  In an incredible way, the very declaration of its nonexistence brings it into being.  Sort of like this famous example: a university president announcing &#8220;our doors are now open to [hitherto excluded group]&#8221; becomes more than just speech.  It ripples through &#8216;the real world.&#8217; Its validity converges at the moment of speech, when the mechanisms that have allowed that utterance to be possible at all (say, a change in admissions policy) and its future validity (that the public now knows about it) meet.  </p>
<p>At the same time, how much value do we place in acknowledging the possibility of unknown unknowns?  At most, its a tentative border drawn around a big empty nothingness.  In military intelligence terms, maybe it would be something like, &#8220;the total of all strategies of groups we don&#8217;t know about, that we can imagine to be possible.&#8221;  So what you have is nothing becoming something which become infinity (as in an mathematically sublime and unmanageable amount of possibility), that functions almost like nothing.  Square one.  </p>
<p>But of course, as you points out, what might be scary for Donald is kind of exciting for most of us.  It&#8217;s amazing to suddenly hear a band you know absolutely nothing about, rather than (and this is reverse vicariousness again), one you don&#8217;t really listen to but &#8220;know of.&#8221;</p>
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		<title>By: risa</title>
		<link>http://www.openjournalmontreal.com/the-cultural-commons-and-small-talk-part3-partial-knowledgefragments-and-fear/comment-page-1/#comment-110</link>
		<dc:creator>risa</dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 28 Oct 2005 20:42:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://open.touchbasic.com/journal/?p=198#comment-110</guid>
		<description>god, donald&#039;s poetry is amazing. he should do readings. i&#039;d go. maybe i&#039;d even bring a bongo, who knows. 
seriously though, this poesy bit of his does make me like him more. i feel like he and i are grappling with similar questions from our very different perspectives in this ol&#039; power geometry of ours. what about those things we don&#039;t even know we don&#039;t know, eh donald? 
what about that moment of laughing amazed at the feeling of a cliche suddenly becoming real and true for you. Of feeling, for just a second, the edges of that enormity of unknowns that is the exciting and uncontrollable and awesome stuff of life brush up against you while you learn something new and it becomes, satisfyingly, a piece of the &#039;known&#039;. 
Like the cliche: time heals all wounds. i remember my shock and frustration at discovering that pain would actually, gradually dull and numb over time. Or how about: sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me. i know that that phrase made me irritated and angry until i had to laughingly acknowledge that names really did have no material impact on my real world day to day. so strange to accept that people i knew, and who had some idea of me i didn&#039;t like, could exist for me in an entirely different world if I just allowed myself to walk away unscathed. 
entoutcas. i&#039;m bluthering. i guess i&#039;m just trying to jumpstart my memory of those moments when i gained a new perspective on the pattern. 
donald sees a whole other pattern, one with more secrets and more violence and more cruelty and more lives at stake and i image that makes those kinds of mental walkaways kind of tough to contemplate. i imagine you get to feel as though you have been chosen to bear the weight of all the power and bad stuff in the world as you&#039;re looking into this abyss it is not just looking back at you but, surruptitiously, magnetically reorienting you. not a job i&#039;d choose.</description>
		<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>god, donald&#8217;s poetry is amazing. he should do readings. i&#8217;d go. maybe i&#8217;d even bring a bongo, who knows.<br />
seriously though, this poesy bit of his does make me like him more. i feel like he and i are grappling with similar questions from our very different perspectives in this ol&#8217; power geometry of ours. what about those things we don&#8217;t even know we don&#8217;t know, eh donald?<br />
what about that moment of laughing amazed at the feeling of a cliche suddenly becoming real and true for you. Of feeling, for just a second, the edges of that enormity of unknowns that is the exciting and uncontrollable and awesome stuff of life brush up against you while you learn something new and it becomes, satisfyingly, a piece of the &#8216;known&#8217;.<br />
Like the cliche: time heals all wounds. i remember my shock and frustration at discovering that pain would actually, gradually dull and numb over time. Or how about: sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me. i know that that phrase made me irritated and angry until i had to laughingly acknowledge that names really did have no material impact on my real world day to day. so strange to accept that people i knew, and who had some idea of me i didn&#8217;t like, could exist for me in an entirely different world if I just allowed myself to walk away unscathed.<br />
entoutcas. i&#8217;m bluthering. i guess i&#8217;m just trying to jumpstart my memory of those moments when i gained a new perspective on the pattern.<br />
donald sees a whole other pattern, one with more secrets and more violence and more cruelty and more lives at stake and i image that makes those kinds of mental walkaways kind of tough to contemplate. i imagine you get to feel as though you have been chosen to bear the weight of all the power and bad stuff in the world as you&#8217;re looking into this abyss it is not just looking back at you but, surruptitiously, magnetically reorienting you. not a job i&#8217;d choose.</p>
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