Tuesday, March 21, 2017

I keep my secrets from myself

March 21, First Day of Spring.

It's hard to understand why I do this. I think it's part of something larger to work through, part of the biggest picture of them all.

But before all that . . .

I was thinking about what my class this semester is about while reading over and more closely Cioran's "The Demiurge", a chapter in his New Gods. This chapter is a quick but very dense read (and just tonight I was talking with Sean about this ball of yolklight {the cosmic egg, you said to yourself, that Moses wrote of in his psalm [but not the real Moses, of course]} that resonated compressed information into his thinking {those are my own words for his thought}!) about God, the Creator, the Demiurge, the Devil, and so on.

I was thinking that I first set up a story that's essentially exploring the theme of horror, but the way I form this notion of horror involves the two ideas of the self and the god, and then exploring how to unravel these ideas through (sort of) three different paths: intensification as extrapolation, nullification, and the path of aporia (or the path of The Party: "WAR is PEACE" is an example of this, although Derridean thoughts about deconstruction and so on work, too).

1. What if the god or self is 'writ large' in the sense that it spreads, it mutates, it grows, it transforms, it is always already a part of a larger living organism, however multidimensional?

2. What if the god or self is truly nothing: the divine nothingness or the being-no-one?

3. What if the god or self are the same thing in any one of the first two?

. . . so, he asks himself knowingly, why then are these secrets I keep from myself? Seems kinda obvious.


In hindsight. They seem kinda obvious in hindsight.

Of course, there is also the possibility that you are forgetting more and more things.

There is also the possibility that you do keep secrets from your self.

If you already knew why it had to happen the way it does, you'd have done something to change what is happening.

You think you're supposed to follow Hermione's assured and thoroughly researched plan for how to get Slughorn's consent to sharing his memory.

But you follow a hunch that instead you should see a friend.

Next thing you know, you uncover one more piece of the last bit of the puzzle that settles once and for all if it's you or you-know-who.


Except, of course, that's the joke of the class, isn't it?


You, who isn't, knows who you-know-who is, who isn't as well.

What then, do you learn from my class?

A whole lot of nothing.

🙈

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