12,204. RUDIMENTS. pt. 841

RUDIMENTS, pt. 841

(grounded in wrong things)

One night of some far-fetched

happening, I can recall being

on my back on the dirt road,

late into the darkness, and

looking up at the stars. A

cousin of mine and her

boyfriend had come up to

visit for a few days and

she'd brought with her the

information that it was to

be one of those meteor

shower nights, Perseids

or whichever one. And at

her request we'd gone out

in the late darkness to bask.

It was cool, and there were,

in the black and open skies

of that area, a mass of stars

to see. You often get this

geekiness thing now, with

urban people, and suburban

too, where they get all weird

and Druidic over 20 stars its

given to them to maybe see

in a local night sky. I can't

figure why they even bother,

let alone load it up with all

their bogus mystical crap

when 99% of the stars aren't

even visible to them and they

haven't a clue. Boy, I hate that

stuff  -  those skinny, fey guys

and their clean-fabric girlfriends

waxing poetic and chanting the

antic for their fake spiritualism.

And they they run right back

home to their condo laundry-room

the next day to get the stains out.

What a bunch of crapola. This

at least was different : far-off

high Pennsylvania sky, deep

and dense blackness, things

astir everywhere. It could all

almost mean something.

-

A thing about the night sky, and

I think I've covered this before,

is the dimensionality of it. That's

what always amazed me  -  the

depth of the profusion. You never

have a realization of that from

photos, diagrams or pictures. It's

actually lacy and gauzy  -  some 

'stars' closer than other 'stars' by the

thousands, or millions, or whatever

it is, and that diversity draws you

right in as you realize the point

from which you are viewing is

also part of that! The 3-d aspect

of it goes all around you. It was

always of a particular catch to stop

some and make me reflect.This was
way-out country darkness, flat out
on a dirt-road and we were looking 
up, and it was stunning. In Elmira,

as well, there was an observatory at

the Elmira campus too, and each

time I was there I went through

this sensation of falling through

space. Free-Fall. It's something

the human body accommodates

itself to, by remaining unaware

of it, and to its, workings. As

in so many other things  - 

imagine if we had been designed

instead so that we didn't have

that innate capacity of overlooking

the hundreds of things that our

bodies are doing at any moment:

eye-blinks, heart-pumps, digestion.

blood-flow, aches and itches of a

moment  -  we'd be distracted to

death. The perfection, as far as

it goes anyway, of our design is

in part due to the fact that we can

operate, and function, at any one

time on 'automatic' and thereby

unawares of the operation we

inhabit. So it is with the distension

of falling through space. When

you come right down to it, that's

what it all amounts to  -  even

though we've got plenty of

theories and functional laws

to explain it all away  -  gravity,

the 'relativistic' relationships

of time and distance, speed,

weight, and density  -  we are

falling through space, dead,

blank, and empty space and

our premise is that all things

falling together, as one, make

the falling unknowable. Try

speeding some day, so as to

get pulled over by a cop, who

will say, 'Where's the fire, Bud?'

and you answer, Well, Officer, no

fire, but I was trying to outrun

the fall.' --  OK, and I guess.

-

Now, for something completely

different : As does occasionally

happen, these last few days again

I've had someone dogging me, a

non-facebook person, but a reader,

for things I've written  -  despicable

opinions, my vile stances. I enjoy it

all. I'll call him 'Tim,' which is

not the real name at all. How many

Bikers have PhD's; what bikers

are research fellows, etc., and why

should anyone want them in their

neighborhood? He asks. Fine. Well

put, though I did turn it back on

him, about Iselin, and said he'd

missed the point and had it ass

backwards. First off, it was ancient
history; I'm not a 'Biker.' Old Iselin 
WAS the biker's neighborhood

and the newcomers were the

interlopers, so the question, 

if it had to be asked, would 

be why would they (Bikers) 

want the newcomers in their 

neighborhood. Anyway, all that

does is incense Tim more, about

me. There's something about

titles and degrees, I think, to

those who don't have them, 

that makes them highly 

esteemed and ultra important.

To Tim anyway. As I see it, a

dullard remains a dullard no

matter what trails the name, 

and the pretense, that goes 

with giving that a predominance.

The reverse of 'cat got your

tongue' is 'This cat got too much

tongue. Shut it.' Which is what

he tells me to do time after time.

Now, I've been in a lot of places,

and situations  -  I've been among

the most greedy title-seekers

and intellectual (supposed) 

pursuers, but I've always liked

the bakers and bikers and bilkers

better. The idea that 'Colleges' are

the right grounds for creative

growth and/or research, is way

off base. In a kind of ordinary,

everyday manner with these people,

you never hear the words envy,

spite, generosity, compassion,

timidity, etc  -  the actual motives

of a basic person's life. It's all

instead muddled into things like

gain and value, cost and effort

against loss and prestige. As if

those things matter; like whose

garage is larger so it can be filled

with more shit. Those are the lines

I draw  -  kind of as markers for

the border of Humanity, as I

would live it. The social nature

of society gets corrupted by

these sorts of 'professional class'

people. Intent on 'improving'

everything by the expansion of

the bad, and the advertising for

profit of that badness. Train

station access next to new, bad

apartments? That's a genius class

for sure. Titles, certificates,

member-class cards, they do

little to advance the mass, but

they do make it easier for the

tabulator, more or less guaranteeing

that the ones who get to fill the

jobs selected will not be up to the

task. And therein is the difference.

I go with the low-brow, thanks. 

The right functions of schools and

research have been corrupted, as

well, by these titled folk, making

it all incestuously staffed by dull

academics. Leave me out, and let

those raucous pretty guys in.

-

In his book 'The Problem Of Lay

Analysis,' Freud said that it was

extremely unlikely that a young

man who would throw the best

years of his life into the cloistered

drudgery of getting an M.D. degree

could possibly make a good

psychoanalyst; so he  preferred to

look for analysts among the writers,

the lawyers, the mothers of families;

those who had chosen human contacts.

But, in their economic wisdom, the

Psychoanalytic Institute of Vienna 

(and New York) overruled him.

That's about as typical as throwing

a high-hat used to be in Iselin.

Once you get grounded in wrong 

things, all you're going to get is

wrong things.