RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,302
(boffo to me, I'd say, and shove it!)
Sometimes I think the world
is pre-ordained, and that we all
just go through the motions. The
paradoxical part of that is that
I've also spent a good part of
my argument-time within the
premise-field of 'We create our
own reality' and are responsible
for all which is around us. It's
a burdensome concept in and
of itself, yet it's the complete
opposite of the first one, about
things being pre-ordained. I've
created my own deadly box,
with no key or exit door? An
offshoot of this has always been,
for me, the advanced and rather
clever idea that when one accepts
the premise of the Creating 'God'
one should also then accept the
premise of a sly God. A God who,
in, say, 'knowing all things,' would
have realized that a lot of work
would be saved by simply abbreviating
the entire process and creating one
race (Humanity?) that would accept
all sorts of premises - things about
evil and sin and right and wrong
and well and sick and bad and good.
That surely would have saved a lot
of 'Time' - which of course would
then also have been one of the 'things'
this odd race would have accepted
as existing. Are you following me?
...As the possibilities grow endless.
That God would not have 'created'
Gravity, for instance, just a race that
accepted such a concept. The same
goes for hot and cold, dead and alive,
solid and liquid, stable and unstable.
They are each just premises; seen
as 'suggestions' of other things, from
the perspective of a knowing 'God'
who realizes (is that the correct word,
I wonder, for something 'God' would
grasp, or is all that pre-existent and
self-defining by the God concept
itself?)...
-
All those alchemists and mystic
magicians of old, they all labored
too at this stuff : Trying or claiming
to seek, the transformation of matter,
one thing into another, dross into
gold. Humankind - being made in
the image of 'God' would simply be
then undertaking the very same idea
that 'God' was undertaking when this
entire thing began? I've always called
this - in fact I've always called my
own, entire life.' and still do - 'Lesson
Learning Catching Up With Itself.'
And I still draw that lesson; and I've
always also said, though somewhat
ungrammatically as it may be, 'The
world is vast-arrayed against our
possibilities.'
-
Once ensconced in NYC, I was living
the simplest life. Ostensibly an 'art student,'
in most respects I was anything but. I've
already told any number of my stories
of those adventuresome days, and I'll
continue to do so. It was Aug, 1967. The
frenzy of Vietnam - and all it meant,
(which is the part of it little covered in
any of that usual bullshit military-thank
-you crap) - was beginning to reach its
peak. Over that, in and of itself, I soon
got criminal - both by intent and in
effort. I went from a simple apartment
on east 11th street - which instead
soon became a functional way-station
for those on their way to Canada,
avoiding their draft, or abandoning
the military - male or female together,
and I found soon enough how well
the two body-forms meshed, as if made
for each other? The apartment thus
became unlivable, and I abandoned
it, taking up residence (with an oh-so
meagre 'pay' of 16 bucks a week. Me
and Mr. Rush [previously written about,
somewhere]). Sort of just 'fallen' into
that life, I observed everything; nay,
I took it upon myself that everything
was not just 'observed,' but burned
into my retinas for alter-life. (Thus,
here and now - and before it, and I,
are gone. Time ticketh, at the front
burner!).
-
1967 kind of sucked. Girls were still
proud of their breasts, and seemed to
do everything possible to accentuate
that fact - and I'm sure the pre-Victoria's
Secret industrial-bra world took up all
efforts to instill in those women and girls
the needed aggressiveness for such a
'pointed' assault on their menfolk; or
any. The prevalent approach then to
panties, on the other hand, to my
knowledge, was nowhere as pronounced.
They were, indeed, at that time, a 'secret'
and kept so. But, in all other respects,
the gurgling undercurrent of everything
was composed of three basic elements:
war, sex, and efficiency. In fact, the
'modernity' of 1967's era could be amply
summed with just those three words.
For myself, I realized that such seduction,
had I been seduced, would have amounted
to what is now playfully called a 'career
dead-end.' If you don't know what is
meant by that, go back to old, 1970's
TV, and watch The Loud Family show.
-
The NYC of then was so utterly simple.
And by terms of anything else, most of
the rest of the world was as well. There
were still undiscovered tribes in Africa.
There were occasional discoveries of
Japanese soldiers hiding out in distant
bunkers and hideouts, still loyal to the
Emperor and thinking that WWII was
as yet underway. The Periodic Table
Of the Elements was quite a bit shorter;
medicine and science, as practices, were
by comparison, far simpler and primitive.
Concepts of things as yet undeveloped
were then often not even in their
infancies. It took the Vietnam War to
bring us Superglue - invented as a
field dressing instant-suture for war
wounds, and only later commercialized.
How vast all this, and what an infancy
it was!
-
This is all quite hard for me to grasp,
and so much of it is still territory I
get uncomfortable with, especially the
modern day, which, frankly, I admit
to abhorring. There's nothing to be
done about it, and I am no Ted
Kaczynski, believe you me. BUT,
it must tell us something about the
'modern' day not really having done
us much good - in spite of the
'advances' and marvels and leisure
it supposedly provides us - when
people are afraid to post publicly
or give out their names and addresses
or other personal information. What
sort of advance is that in light of
the supposed expansion and growth
towards goodness and light and the
vivacity of a communal well-being?
It seems more like a fearful timidity
with a dead-end looming. I ask, why
bother? We scream about limited
resources, foul pollutions and poisons,
too many people, overcrowding, etc.,
yet we do all we can to 'extend' people's
miserly-meager lives no matter the
condition. Emotion trumps good sense?
Sentimentality rules?
-
Henrich Heine was a writer, sort of
out of Germany, before there really
was a Germany. He lived 1797 to
1856. Let's figure for a moment
what was going on here in America
so has to give his life some idea
of 'context' and place for us. If you
do that, you can better situate the
roundabout of his life in the
larger picture of 'our' things - like
the Civil War, nascent industrialization,
westward expansion, the railroads and
canals, the growth of towns and
villages, the development of 'politics'
in America, etc. - The things that 'make'
America what it was, at least in the
eyes of those who know. Of course, we
negate all that old 'America' legacy
merely by living our present, grubby,
daily anti-American, lives. Heine
was a great one (he fled that latent
'Germany,' by the way, and gleefully
took up life in Paris. People used to
actually say (it was a common, pet,
phrase back then) about anyone who
was pleased and happy, that they
were 'Happy as Heine in Paris'), for
cool remarks and witty replies.
He'd once described the Bible as
'ein portatives Vaterland' ( a
portable Fatherland) to the Jews,
and he stated that the 'burning of
books is a prelude to the burning
of people.' Soundbite. Quite
Quotable. I'd say 'Watch Out!'
-
I've learned lots and lots of things,
organized in manner, and not. Life is
like that. I know a woman who scoffs
at me for being what she calls an
auto-didact or somesuch - a word
about people who are self-taught, I
think, instead of having roped
themselves through the usual
accepted channels. It's not
true anyway, but even if
it was, Boffo to me,
I say, and shove it!
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