Archive for April, 2013

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Rapture in Progress

The act of composition is agony because it confronts the universe.  Painters and sculptors are most prominent in the swirl, then musicians, writers, then government, history, religion. Simultaneously slice the pie, mission furniture, English miracle plays, Goya, Rome, Babylon. The act of composition agony confronting the universe seeks to disprove somehow that one incremental step at a time over a lifetime culminates in the paintings of the Deaf man house of Goya, or Alexanders VII’s tomb (Bernini) or the Opening of the Fifth Seal (El Greco). It is not the universe per se, but the created universe of humanity confronted that disproves that system of regulations, protocols, expectations each age disproves by the next,  which rears its own expectations of time, space, meaning, association, even to the destruction of memory, for it is shot with lies and exaggeration. Science acts this way exactly. To pretend to tell the truth against this simultaneity from the beginning of human memory, to tear it down, to disprove it is the cause of all the writers before and after Jonah.

There is no time in the unconscious.  Every memory and act known and unknown is present. All the good and evil human construct is there. Good is relative. Are the planets there? Only if they are part of the human construct, so yes they are. We of course understand that none of this means empirically there. None of it is really there.  The unconscious is a construct, but it’s big, includes everything human. Unfortunately for Eliade, Freud, Campbell and Jung the unconscious does not include Yahweh and Yeshua. It however follows that if there is an intuitive that is dishonest there is also an empirical that is dishonest. The heavens were hijacked to make star worship. , Maimonides said well enough that all this construct of the image of the universe, astrology and Yeats, Babylon and mystery, is idolatry of the sun, its chief deity, the heavens in this opinion being god. Ezekiel ends the horrors of evil revealed to him in Chapter 8 with the worst: “five and twenty men, with their backs toward the temple of Yahweh, and their faces toward the east as they worshipped the sun.” These Sabeans and their posterities held  the stars and the heavens as gods. So it follows from this that the unconscious, like the universe, is a human construct, not at all organic, but artificial, built of every thought and is inimical to human existence. All theories of correspondence flow from this, but Abraham was the first who opposed star theories and their temples of Intellectual Images, asheroth, pillars. Abraham refuses the cosmos the way Daniel refuses Babylon, will not eat its sweet, but takes water and pulse. This simplicity is the principal object of the Law, to blot out these opinions from man’s heart and make the existence of idolatry impossible (Guide of the Perplexed, III, xxix).

The first and middle stages of these unknowings are fruitless if not conscious, but consciousness can only work after many repetitions. When time brings recognition then there’s something to do, to edit, reedit, to meditate a continual Rapture In Progress of the world, because having no purpose, no goal, it is not known when the thing is reached or when finished. As long as the medium is plastic, which words are before final publication, clay malleable for days, writing 20 years out seems an easy figure.

At that time that Angus Fletcher’s Allegory had just come out, as if it were a romance to woo another world, these practical seizings of the moment of the Renaissance to intuit a method attracted me. Nothing about the universe has changed, unless it’s the way we think. That naive fact of faith, to apprehend it, does so without wondering, does not explain itself any more than a current in a river or a bird. I prefer the river.  Go to sleep, wake up in the data base of the naive, which would be lost if it must first be known. If only you could teach it they say. They should say give it time and believe.

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Rapture in Progress

In this way unknowing seems omniscient, but doubt arises: Is this the time of defeat, when the method of not knowing ceases to work? But a solution comes by way of faith that works.

Believing that mountains move for as many as received him, to them gave he the power to become the sons of God is right out of The Book of Divine Consolation of Meister Eckhart, “for I am the son of all that forms me and gives birth to me as identical to itself according to and in itself: (Selected Writings, tr. by Oliver Davies, Penguin, 1994, 57). Admitting that I know nothing itself and intuit after its knowledge, must be empowering, but not to ever doubt that the way of the impossible posits conduct as a riddle. One who knows nothing turns away from all power by formula, science, laboratory, magic, ritual, divination, drugs, which end, unlike faith, which goes on and on. Faith apprehends. Human imagination will bounce around, not strictly imitating the original, but parts of it,  to sometimes literally condition the models presented in imagination and its outcomes.These offer evidence of the simple way through simultaneity that rejects the power and dominion, authority and might conferred by magic and image in the mirror of deception. The way of Abraham and Daniel, John and Yeshua the Blessed confronts all the might of the accumulated dogmas of deception. That is why the unconscious, the greatest celebration of modern lit and just about the only verity remaining to the poet, fell. 

These matters arrived in the context of thinking about the heroics of two grandmothers, Anna Bechtel Mack Reiff (1880-1970) and Hannah Matilda Elizabeth Karlsson (31 Oct 1889 – 7 July 1976),  the conclusion being that it is so much easier to find heroism in these women, as opposed to men, who are not so unalloyed. Anna, from a family on both sides of Old Mennonite bishops, was a tailor and a feminist whose two daughters achieved much in measure with her. Her story is online here. Hannah’s story is not yet told but she came through hardship to land in Elgin Texas in 1921. Along with these reflections comes a question I failed to ask the numerous nonagenarians of these families. Both Anna and Carl Carlson observed at 90 that they did not feel in their minds they had aged at all. This existential denial of time, confronted so, wants to ask, what advice then do you have for the 30 year old? I don’t have the answer. My mentor Anna Elizabeth did not expect to die at 93, was sarcastically planning her 95th. I myself at 72 know nothing. See more on the Fall of the Uncon here