Friday, March 27, 2015

7009  Can we make sense of absolute, ontological nihilism or a rigorous anti-substantialism?  No, as long as our thinking is in the style of academic writing. Only in the rhythms of numerous or metrical or poetic prose can the mystical, erotic Truth appear.  That’s why I write as I do.  At the dire limits of thought exceptional measures must be taken.  The writer is in the place of dread.  He is coming undone.  And the command to speak cannot be overcome.  The only other way is to stop halfway and try to stay calm.

7008  For me the world out there is adequately described by logic.  That is to say, it is a subject-predicate world.  Bare particulars exemplify universals.  Such an exemplification is called a fact.  The world consists of facts.  Some are negative, some are atomic, some are molecular, some are conditional, some are only possible while others are actual.  Facts come in many flavors.

For more worldly philosophers, all I have described there are entitates menti, things of the mind, and the world out there consists of individual objects, in themselves beyond logical formulation. Or perhaps they are Aristotelian substances in which those things also sort of exist in a weakened state.

I look about and I see gods, universal Forms appearing.  Others look as me so looking and think I am doing that one out there a great injustice by not seeing a unique individual beyond my idealizing.  My realism of ontological things then becomes evil.  

Sartre said, “Evil is the product of the ability of humans to make abstract that which is concrete.”  Or is it the case that I have made concrete that which is abstract?  Whichever it is, when that one there changes into the presence of an eternal universal Form, I swoon and love’s domination drives me into a furious silence.  And the rhythms of meaningless literature.

7007  For the Madhyamika philosopher to exist is to be eternal.  He reasons that nothing is eternal, therefore nothing exists. For him to be eternal means to endure forever throughout time.  All things are in time.  He sees nothing outside time.  He reasons that nothing is eternal, therefore nothing exists.

Things repeat.  What repeats and what is repetition?  The Form repeats.  To repeat means that the particulars (a and b) that exemplify the Form are different.  Repetition is the ontological thing [a is different from b].  Well yes, that is difficult because it isn’t just any ol’ a and b; it’s the a and b that exemplify the same Form.  And now we have to ontologically ground sameness, which means we are walking in the weeds of thought.

I agree with the Madhyamika that to exist is to be eternal, but the Form that is exemplified by particulars that also exemplify time relations does not exemplify time relations and therefore is not “in time”.  Existents are not in time.  And they do exist.  It’s an entangled mess.  From here you can either beat your head your head your head against the outer wall of heaven or you can dance with Zarathustra and Agni, the agile actor.

7006  There is eliminative materialism and there is eliminative idealism.  The former says that there is no mind that all thoughts and emotions are in. No mind substance.  The latter says that there is no matter that all physical properties are in.  No material substance.  I agree with both of those.  I am an anti-substantialist.  And I go one step further by saying that there is no such thing as time that all the momentary aspects are in.  No time substance.  An expanded anti-substantialism.  But what I am really after is to do away with that insidious little word “in”.  Properties are not in an underlying substance.  It’s externality all the way.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

7004  Krishna is the boy Agni after he reaches puberty.  Then the Rasa Lila.  A wild time in the woods on the river bank when Krishna makes love to himself.  “But already Krishna, enamoured of himself, had resolved to experience lust for his own self; he manifested his own Nature in the cow-herd girls and enjoyed them." [Karapatri, "Lingopasana-rahasya," Siddhanta, II, 1941-2]” But my concern here is Agni.  A fiery being.  Is there any god like him in the west?

“The Greek principle of domination by the beautiful person as work of art is implicit in western culture, …  I see it in Dante and Beatrice and in Petrarch and Laura.”  That’s Camille Paglia here .  Sometimes it is a boy, sometimes a girl, but the girls are almost boys in that they are so young.  And of course the essential thing is that they are absolutely unapproachable.  Thus the ice along with the fire.  Is that Agni?  I think so.

Is Agni a work of art?  He does exist in inspired meter.  Maya, √ma, to measure.  Mathematics, so cold.  Only that.  The spirit dances in the void.

What is the proper attitude of the worshipper to such a god?  He trembles.  Mania.  He begs.  He has sleepless nights.  He presses the soma.  And becomes the smooth, white essence.  The wind blows.  He burns in a cold shiver.  He is everything a lover is.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

7003  Agni is the fire in Petrarch’s sonnets.  But he is also the ice.  If you try to approach that boy, that one of beautiful limbs, all you find are meter, grammar, and your own voice vibrating inside you head.  He has you by the balls.   A god doesn’t come close.  Or he comes too close.  You agonize.  And flash.  And write constantly.

Domination.  You are in thrall.  You are such a literary thing. The mantras are pure form.  He is pure form.  You are muck.  Your gonads burn.  Your head burns.  Your hand aches.  Ashes.  Recite that mantra again.  And again.  It’s always the same.  The same with the same.  Dreams arise in his dusk.  The musk is windy.  You are alone.  Burn.  Shiver with the cold.  He is just grammar and meter and head-banging.  Close your eyes.

Pick a paradox, any paradox; he is that.  A perfect god.  He has you.  You have been had.  Speak madness to your friends.  If you have any friends left.  He flames.  Tongues of a death fire.  Meter, grammar, head swelling gonads.  Grab with a cold, icy hand.  You have this god by the balls.  He succumbs.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

7002  I write that I am a dualist.  And I can almost hear that chorus in the distance rising up and shouting that I have hopelessly lost all connection between thought and reality.  The problem is that they know nothing of, nor believe in, that easily overlooked little nexus whose job it is to unite mind and object.  The Nexus of Intentionality.  Now I almost hear that chorus say, “Huh?”

Of course there is a connection between mind and the world—I take that sentence literally.  We can all feel it.  That is why if the connection is lost so many have jumped into materialism, where the mind is the brain.  If there is only one thing, then the problem vanishes.  Of course other problems, big problems, then arise, but one simply has to avert one’s intellectual eyes and that problem is solved too.

Oops, now I think I hear them warning me about Bradley's regress.  

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