non savoir 2

the unknowable and the outside or other can only be talked about in presentiment and aftereffect, direct interaction with is unworded and unspeakable, non-disseminable. with this there is no inherent lauding of the experiential, no specific intent to praise the act over the analysis of the act, and yet with the understanding some bias must of necessity arise, the act, the knowing, the experiencing of the other as the impenetrable event, unmediated and, in fact, uncorroborated, as impossible to make certain as is those most perplexing of why’s.

what is the use, rings the modern question, of where we can find place or practical application for any such knowing.

for that is, in the end, all one can take away from the direct experience of the other is a knowing that is other than a tallying of facts producing some kind of dialectical “knowledge,” but rather a disconcertingly mystical construct of “knowing” that places itself outside the reach of the arguable, outside the reach of the transmissible, and hence, the refinable and mutable, the knowing either having place in the consciousness, or not, with no in-between.

the question of utility however forces the inspection of basic assumptions about utility, and what measures the density of such component within a given experience of gained base of knowledge or function. for the implicit question is, for modern man, what is its use to *the rest of us.* it is neither argued nor even scarcely considered what use such knowing of the un and other might be to the one, inasmuch as the one is but a placeholder for the many, a representative of the collective only, Man in man, man of Man, that there is no distinction.

and i find the arguments for the search of the self and the exaltation of such self to be pedantic, given overly much to ego enhancement and preening on the part of the aryan. and yet there is something amiss to ascribe man’s only relevance to Man, for in doing so we, however unannounced and with little fanfare, crown dictator and tyrant the words we choose to facilitate this collectivization of the one into the many. Language becomes God, and without such blessing we cannot go forth.

and yet there are dreams, and terrors, and strange memories and sounds and triumphs and sorrows that arise in the breast, oft unbidden, that having caught us for a moment, open, forgetting ourselves, wash over us with the intimacy of a life lived and lost, leaving only bittersweet ache for that which we do not know and cannot recall, whispering by unremembered but not forgotten. staring down into the black we know we are not ourselves, not fully and not only, and that something vast and somehow unseen is that which gives us form and voice and light, and yet it is as nothing, of nothing, forever to be as nothing, the inside and unseen of all things hollow, at the back of things, nothing.

and so to approach this nothing we require special tools, mirrors and broken lives, disjointed sentences and arcane ritual, psycho-pharmaceuticals used and abused, songs of special significance and dances that exaggerate motion and tire the body. anything to for that one gnostic moment pull back the veil, and glimpse the face of beyond, be it isis or azathoth.

abandoned, the question of use, i no more find affinity with Man than i find with Chair or Stone, as much an object, however mobile, as these others, for as the infinite curves forever downward in on me and up through me and spiraling forever, the mind of man that holds me together cracks and begins to fall apart, and i do not gasp or rush to hold it tight together. better a death as dismembered or cracked apart than this life being held so tightly to face the formgiving light. i would more walk down the deep stair into the earth and under, forever, than sit temperate and dazed upon some warm rock, facing the sun and hoping that it will never leave me on my own.

literature, for it is this with which i approached the question first at all, must take note of such limitations. in those first few lines it was made simple, only in premonition and aftereffect, never facing directly into nothing, as nothing will be shown. and to dress a puppet in black and dance it about against a black backdrop is only to mollify the fear beating in your own chest, catching at your gut and squeezing your heart, hoping that to demonize some small known thing, and give it the name of Other that we might capture and slay and taxonomize its every part, and having known it, set at false ease the terror lingering within us.

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~ by downandin on October 6, 2007.