and the eyes of the two of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked
Were their eyes closed before? No, opened wide10:61. Staring outward.8:23 Like those of the kouros5:57 or stele2:66 at the gates5:11 of the dead.
they knew that they were naked
They knew that (ki). And there the fall, in the ki. It doesn't matter what, just that.
they knew that they they knew that they
Not the they they were, but that they, over there, as in a mirror. Propositional knowledge: knowing "what is put before". Knowing-that falls like a mirror between they and they—it is the and:
they (knew that) they
A mirror falls, between Man and himself. Now he is here, a subject to an object, no longer the impossible edenic vocative, called into be-ing, subject without object. This is the first declension. He is here, and there, over there, an object in the mirror, and in the mirror, in the world.
Case, sb. [--L. casus fall, chance, occasion...]... Grammar. a. One of the forms of a noun, adjective, or pronoun, which express its relations to some other word, e.g. as subject, object, etc. b. loosely, The relation itself. (O.E.D.)
It is odd of course to inhabit the earth no more[...]. Odd to see everything that was related fluttering so loosely in the space. (1:70/78-80)
The world is all that is the case [der Fall]. (Tractatus 1.1)
Der Fall: 1) "The case." 2) "The trap." 3) "The fall." The mirror is the fall, the trap, and the case.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
That parking lot is surely empty tonight, like in late winter: black and white, twilight, dusk, or whatever it is called when you are slightly afraid to go up into the woods--No, it is not the 'alone' that gets to you, it is a presence of others, out just ahead, and the little sing-songs coaxing you along into the darkness you are not ready for. There is a point where it is simply blue-grey, maybe the rise catches dying light I don't know, but here you can be lost though you know the way back to the car, here you'll fade away with nothing to contain you.
posted
When I was a boy you looked down from a ladder where you clipped the hedge holding a big garbage bag open, waiting for pieces to fall, and you said: "Look at the broad shoulders on him."
You were talking to something in between us, or telling the world, to make me.
The broad shoulders were Christmas Eve too, shovelling snow off the stoop, so cold it squeaked under your boots. My breath made little balloons.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
If one were to, say sit down... sit down and write, say without any insight, but rather (at least) a wish for some...one?...just a nervous tick soothed only by, say typing--you know--"they march out onto the bridge..." meaning: the words (these, not those ones) Ker-plunk, ker-plop they've jumped into the summer river, the "never and again" of rivers (you know - not twice in same etc.) so our never and agains. If one were to push on, push on and into the lint that was the sock well-worn until the final tumble dry--that lint (blue-grey), that basement light that dampness darker dangling down... If one were to see that sort of sock instead of the important thing, the wished for insight; if it were only more!?
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
I enjoy visiting your realm. Many of your sequences go right over my head. Sometimes it's like I'm watching TV with the sound off... as if I'm being immersed in a tourette's of images.
Posts: 2425 | Registered: Jan 2002
| IP: Logged |
posted
I find the first post fascinating. Some of the others are confusing, but that first one . . . intriguing ideas there.
Posts: 1900 | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
and the eyes of the two of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked and they sewed together leaves of a fig, and they made for themselves girdles, and they heard the voice of YHVH God moving about in the garden at the breath of the day, and the Man and his woman hid themselves from the face of YHVH God in the midst of the trees of the garden, and YHVH God called to the Man, and he said to him where are you, and he said I heard your voice in the garden and I feared that I am naked and I hid,[...]
They knew that (ki). The first declension. Der Fall.
The world is all that is the case [Der Fall].
and God said behold, the Man has become like one of us, knowing the world (Gen. 3:21)
We never have, not for a single day, the pure space before us,[....] Always it is world And never Nowhere without No. (8:16-17)
He knew that he, in the world, over there. Where.
and YHVH God called to the Man and he said to him where are you?
Where. As the answer. Where but not somewhere. There but not over there. That is where.
Where, where is the spot—I bear it in my heart—, Where they still not nearly could,[...]. (5:73)
and Moses says to God, behold, I go to the sons of Israel and I say to them God of your fathers sends me to you and they say to me what is his name—what am I saying to them? and God says to Moses I am where I am, you are saying thus to the sons of Israel: I am sends me to you[...]. (Exodus 3:13-14)
I am where I am
God puns on his own name:
YHVH: "he is" EHWH: "I am"
The root gesture: HWH. Its primal sense: falling.
I fall where I fall
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
Blayne Bradley
unregistered
posted
is this a real person? Or a very complex program? If the latter then the programmer is a genius.
IP: Logged |
posted
Those were the days! Remember the treefort? God, it reminds me of a joke.
Not because she told me you and all your work are just a tree fort, or to get inside one had to trust the flimsiest of whining rungs (nailed, nailed, and re-nailed in the trunk), and that the floor was mainly windows in plywood mosaic woven underneath with two by fours, at best, until some plan unfolded, later on, to keep you up there, in between.
But because you were the only one who'd stay up overnight, when everybody said they’d come. And there was nothing, really, up there except you in your tree fort, as if a life depended on it, as if life depended on a life depending on it as it did.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
As it did! Depending, pendulous. Nailed, nailed and re-nailed like nails into a coffin lid (or, into the hands and feet of our saviour!) - I'm thinking, synaesthetically(?)- and hearing the "Qui tollis" of Mozarts C minor Mass. ta-bang, ta-bang ta-bang, ta-bang ta-bang, ta-bang
I printed the whole thing off and can see it from here: three inches. Too heavy.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
Wow... You're here!! *dusts cobwebs off of her reply-to-deerpark27-conversational-pieces fingers*
I'm with TomDavidson - I miss me some worldplay! You write with great imagery, deerpark27, and I like how I write when I'm responding to the images you paint. Would you mind emailing me through the forum so I can ask you about the old thread?
Posts: 1271 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
i remember the rust on the car-shaped flowerpots with moon light silhouetted echoes of carefree voices blended together with trees turned to music by thoughtful hands and helpful horsetail hairs
echoes of dreams to the surface with one cold foot... and lessons in daDUMdaDUM da BLOCK
merry revelers taking their first plunge off an almost forgotten bridge.
Posts: 1271 | Registered: Jul 2006
| IP: Logged |
posted
Isn't it all a new kind of beautiful? Alien to someone like you, walking back along a brown river: a Buick honks a singular honk, brown duck, brown river, all waiting to mean something to you walking back, walking back counting the steps it will take to bring you back home.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
You can't fit birth and death into the system of I's. Boundary phenomenon or limits beyond which something else--expresses. Takes place out there, beyond, where language happened, logic unfolded, one cannot speak, but hear whispers and driven to recognition hear someone say: Nothing; or swim! you can swim in it! (not unlike that little penguin, who having spent his lucky short life upright on the ice flow somehow knows that real-life is in the water and jumps in. The ocean wells up beneath thinning ice, we don't know what we'll become until we jump into the breach.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
Blayne Bradley
unregistered
posted
is deeppark a real person? I can't imagine anyone being this creative, otherwise he's a genius.
IP: Logged |
posted
*laugh* Yes, he's a real person. I find it absolutely amazing that you think a computer would be more creative than a person.
Posts: 36910 | Registered: May 1999
| IP: Logged |
posted
Driven nuts by the benign, perfect smile that you'd like to kiss on the face of that girl who hands you her heavy little muffins (for peace); your greasy tie dangles down, calico under a clean shaven fat rosy face whose chin skin flap sweats, plump over a tightening collar--
Let's get the facts straight and atomic: Lemon or Poppyseed, it smells like a girl.
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
That is where. God is that. Falling. Utterly the case (Der Fall), creator of the world. The fall of all that falls, falling. The being of all being, being. And every creature, in its edenic be-ing, reveals him. It does what it is, and is what it does. Sprouts sprout. Trees of fruit make fruit. The flying thing flies. The gliding thing glides. 'adam works the 'adamah of which he's made. The nahash ("whisper", "augur") whispers augury. havvah ("life-giver") gives life. YHVH ("he who is/causes to be") is/causes to be. These are name-fates. The angels are spoors of Eden:
spaces of essence, shields of bliss, tumults of enraptured feeling and suddenly, solitary, mirrors: which draw their own beauty, streaming out, back again into their own countenance. (2:14-17)
and the animal:
his being [sein Sein] is to him endless, uncomprehended and without view on his condition, pure, like his view. (8:38-40)
sein Sein: his being his being his being.
In cold marble I live for myself.
The 'asher is the mirror, rooted finally in God, in his in(de)finite self-reflection. Fallen Man, the Man of the case, "has become like one of us", Godlike in his knowing that. But God just is that, knowing that. He is that, reflecting: I am that I am; affirming himself endlessly. Man, whose knowing is finite, loses himself in finding himself, knowing—fearing himself as that. To find himself he must lose himself.
As child one loses oneself there in the stillness (8:19-20)
To lose himself he must loose himself.
Does the world-space into which we loose ourselves taste of us then? Do the angels really only catch up what is them, their streaming out, or is there sometimes[...] a little of our essence as well?
(2:29-30)
To be one again he must be nothing, without no. To be whole he must be hole. As long as he is in the mirror he is lost. And every mirrored solution is merely part of the problem. He must become it, intensifying the very <gestures/experience/?> of the fall, the seeing of himself, the hearing of God's voice, until they are complete, finished. Crushed into the mirror's singularity. (W)hole. The terror is the focal point in the concave mirror of Der Fall. Yet he must become it. Seeing and showing at once. Hearing and uttering at once.
to watch so fully that in the end, to offset my watching, an angel must go there (4:54-5)
Watch like the dancer at the barre, until lost in her own reflection. Dead to the world. Then she shows.
Angel, to you I show it still, there! in your watching (7:70-1)
Hear, my heart, as only holy ones heard before (1:55-7)
(x:yy-yy)=(#Elegy, #Verse in Duino Elegies, Rilke) etc.
posted
3.04 An a priori true thought would be one whose possibility guaranteed its truth.
3.05 Only if we could know a priori that a thought is true if its truth was to be recognized from the thought itself (without an object of comparison).
posted
skipping Gym to go and hide in a place you imagine nobody'll use in this steady rain whose brick walls contain forgotten tables old and cement and a little garden with small purple flowers the sound of the rain and you snuggled in close to the minutes inside the rain and the drops on the petals the sound of a world swelling up into the quiet your breath and the rain to be still in the rain
Posts: 1108 | Registered: Dec 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
Wow. I've never seen you post before, but you're a genius.
(Am I the only one who's pretending to know what he means and saying he's brilliant because I really don't?)
Posts: 438 | Registered: May 2006
| IP: Logged |
Printer-friendly view of this topic
E-mail this page
![[Smile]](smile.gif)
![[Frown]](frown.gif)
