Say the conflict, a conflict, say, is what to call ourselves. What is our ‘thing’ our history? What are the words they will use to describe us, to describe me? Say, modern and post-modern, and now what? This time. This one, where an immense subjectivity couples with the eternal, as in, yes, there are times to make immense declarative statements. Yes, there are times we make immense declarative statements, and times we let it all out or in or standing still or running away. A massive psychology, a massive subjectivity whereas we can be understood, but not all the time.
Instead, no, it is the frame we are looking at, describing. Exists in a bubble and at the same time, supremely talented. Both you and us. I and them. The King and I. Etc. So it is not the thing, no, it is not a matter of right and wrong, not the materials and principles, the backlog of information accessible to us through the Internet, a phone call away, walking through the graveyard on a cell phone, but the groovy eye, the one eye, the shut your eye off once in a while eye. No pictures, no piles of pictures, not an immensity of stored data. I go back and lose it, the train of thought, the interruption a phone call an email, the end of an empire, the idea of an empire to hold and to cherish. Past an idea, past discussion, nobody would believe me anyway if I told them, saw it myself. No, what we’ve become is not a thing. We’re too complicated now. “Of Being Numerous”. George Oppen. But we must have a thinglyness. It must have a thinglyness, but not as a thing derived from a thing, the new model, but a mode a transport. Not the words but the mechanism of delivery, or watching and being watched; that we will understand over the course of time, that our infinite subjective will settle.
It is no longer a fractured world, a waste land of dejected pieces, but a world of infinite connection. And no longer do these connections defy explanation. History and science and economics are cornering the market. We can explain almost everything. A non-sequitor is traceable, not fooling anyone. No, we are left with a wheel of subjectivity, a wheel of experience where everybody is right and everybody is wrong. We have turned back on ourselves, back to our mechanisms of perception. Seen as the media, touched as an advertisement. Sometimes yes and sometimes no. Sometimes sometimes and never maybe. Always maybe. What does it matter? A man slashes at an already dead fish. Time moves on. This is our next challenge, certain in our uncertainty, the inverse, and one that doesn’t. Plurality. The plural. And to connect that which we need to is to rediscover that which we need. And so what it is is not a thing but the thing’s movement, the machine and what it is doing, where it is taking us. Yes there are many kinds of trees in the forest. Yes, some of them are particularly beautiful yes. And yes we are standing on a path, and yes there is a swath of trees knocked down over there. But the movement. The drawing of lines, connectors, this is our task.
Instead, no, it is the frame we are looking at, describing. Exists in a bubble and at the same time, supremely talented. Both you and us. I and them. The King and I. Etc. So it is not the thing, no, it is not a matter of right and wrong, not the materials and principles, the backlog of information accessible to us through the Internet, a phone call away, walking through the graveyard on a cell phone, but the groovy eye, the one eye, the shut your eye off once in a while eye. No pictures, no piles of pictures, not an immensity of stored data. I go back and lose it, the train of thought, the interruption a phone call an email, the end of an empire, the idea of an empire to hold and to cherish. Past an idea, past discussion, nobody would believe me anyway if I told them, saw it myself. No, what we’ve become is not a thing. We’re too complicated now. “Of Being Numerous”. George Oppen. But we must have a thinglyness. It must have a thinglyness, but not as a thing derived from a thing, the new model, but a mode a transport. Not the words but the mechanism of delivery, or watching and being watched; that we will understand over the course of time, that our infinite subjective will settle.
It is no longer a fractured world, a waste land of dejected pieces, but a world of infinite connection. And no longer do these connections defy explanation. History and science and economics are cornering the market. We can explain almost everything. A non-sequitor is traceable, not fooling anyone. No, we are left with a wheel of subjectivity, a wheel of experience where everybody is right and everybody is wrong. We have turned back on ourselves, back to our mechanisms of perception. Seen as the media, touched as an advertisement. Sometimes yes and sometimes no. Sometimes sometimes and never maybe. Always maybe. What does it matter? A man slashes at an already dead fish. Time moves on. This is our next challenge, certain in our uncertainty, the inverse, and one that doesn’t. Plurality. The plural. And to connect that which we need to is to rediscover that which we need. And so what it is is not a thing but the thing’s movement, the machine and what it is doing, where it is taking us. Yes there are many kinds of trees in the forest. Yes, some of them are particularly beautiful yes. And yes we are standing on a path, and yes there is a swath of trees knocked down over there. But the movement. The drawing of lines, connectors, this is our task.
