- There was a man, who was possibly a fool, who turned up at a public
restaurant which was popular, but somewhat restricted in it's clientele.
He went to walk through the door, he was stopped and asked to go no
further. It transpired that his clothes were not suitable for entry. It
may have been they were perceived as 'ragged', 'ragged at the edges' as if
this man had faced some storm, pehaps an innered storm, one that has kept
him up all the dayandnight long. Well, he was hungry and he was humble,
but not yet humiliated. He returned to his abode and changed his apparel
to the finest cloths he could manage. At the door he was welcomed, and he
took his seat, at the table, by the window. Lovely food was brought and
placed on his table, and he proceeded to grip the food with his hands, and
to smear the food all over his fine clothes, rubbing it into the weft and
weave. A waiter was despatched. "Hey-ho, sir. What dost thou doeth? What
mess makest thou now on thy beautiful clothes." --> "Oh! dear me," he
replied, "methoughted that twas my clothes that you felt needed food
mostest, so I go ''withoutwithin'' and now...
That's from a story, doing the rounds at the moment, here in the United
Kingdom.
Three morning learnings
"One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we've been bamboozled
long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We're no
longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us.
It is simply too painful to acknowledge - even to ourselves - that we've
been so credulous."
Carl Sagan -The Fine Art of Baloney Detection
"Speaking differently rather than arguing well
is the chief instrument of cultural change"
Richard Rorty
"There is nothing more difficult to take in hand,
more perilous to conduct, more uncertain in its success,
than to take the lead in introducing a new order of things;
because the innovator will have for enemies
all who have done well under the old conditions
and only lukewarm defenders in those who may do well under the new".
Machiavelli
David Peate, in ''Blackfoot Physics'', a book i have waited a long time to
read ;-) writes " A relative of 'Clown' is the "contrary" who will walk
backward, face the rear of a horse when riding, and wash in dirt. He may
also say NO as assent and Yes as denial.
(for the interested Blackfoot Physics, PP32-84 Coming to Knowing).
Fragment.
"Every man is good in a bad world. Everyman himself changes from good to
bad and back and forth all his life then dies. But no matter how, why or
when a man changes he remains a good man in a bad world as he himself
knows. All his life a man fights death and then at last loses the fight
always knowing he would. Loneliness is everyman's portion, and failure.
The man who seeks to escape from loneliness is a lunatic...But there is a
meaning to man. There is a meaning to the life everyman lives. It is a
secret meaning, and pathetic were it not for the lies of art, for which
everyman must be grateful as he himself knows. For the lies tell him to
wait. They tell him to hang on. No man's life means more than another. As
each man himself knows. The luckiest man is the one who enjoys his
portion, but no man is very lucky, for everyman's portion is equally poor,
and putting up with it..."
Here is a view from the window of that restaurant...this restaurant is on
a lovely avenue, with trees and in the trees birds sing and the sky is
always a light cerulean blue...
I do knot knead to explain to this forum how our societies have used
organization to the benefit of efficiencies, unevenly distributed. The
Clown in this realm as we no is entropy and entropy-production the ying
and yang of life itself. Peate puts it nice enough...to continue her work
nature must metaphorically 'defecate'. Viz. If we insist upon generating
order, this can only be done at the expense of creating disorder somewhere
else.
I wonder, when the ''streams'' have ''strummed'' far and wide enough, who,
what , where ''man/woman/child'' gets most defecated upon. What does it
matter to the ''man/woman/child'' already dressed in rags.
Now, a at least equal mind/imagination/intellect that knew some little
''epistemology'' wrote that the way to overcome much of this defecation
going too much in the wrong direction was through three 'things' ...I
shorten the long...to make promises, to keep those promises and
creatively, literally through the eyes, mind, hearing of a new child.
Move!
The Emperor's New Mind, PP 448 . ( ...to exhausted to write it out for you)
What follows now ...is already written...
Yes, it will take a certain amount of ''preparation'' ;-) for me to be
able to 'fit' ;-) what needs must ...and so on that way, i have to go back
with Primo and recount the story of Kraus. I will paraphrase for those
pressed for time;-)
" Our world today is this hole of mud "
(Aside: The Rt. Hon. Tony Blair stood at the despatch box yesterday in the
British House of Commons and gave out a heartfelt utterance, in relation
to an implicate..."- there are 80,000 unaccounted-for people in Iraq (men
women and children) and we are still finding mass graves)...)
" Kraus misses his stroke..it is not the first time...I warn him to be
careful...he is Hungarian...he doesn't understand German or Italian...when
he laughs he has the face of a child, and he often laughs. He works too
much and too vigorously he has not yet learned the underground art of
economizing on everything (Dan, you know my style as an artist, but as a
newbie i'll point up that i am repeating myself, to make sure ;-)
...economizing on everything...on breath, on movements, on thoughts. His
thinking is not right...he thinks his present situation is like his
previous one..., outside, where it is honest and logical to work." His
co-workers are starting to get angry with his industriousness, "Kraus can
kill himself if he wants, but not today, we are in a team, a chain and the
rhythm of the work is set by him..." The day mecifully ends..." this very
day which seemed invincible and eternal this morning; now it lies dead and
is immediately forgotten; already it is no longer a day, it has left no
trace in anybody's memory. We know that tomorrow will be like
today,...perhaps..or...perhaps..or...one of those great changes might take
place, which has been infatigably foretold, ever since the Lager has been
the Lager, as imminent and certain.
I expect you are a little ''there'' now Dan, i mean ''with'' Kraus and
Primo.
Primo starts up again..." Then an important thing happened, and it is worth
telling now, perhaps for the same reason it happened then." Dan, that is a
strange thing, because I was just thinking about Hannah
Arendt...(no...no...no...another story)
"Perhaps for the same reason..."
Aha! i see...i intuit...you may implicate, if you feel sufficient and free
;-)...
" I told him that I had dreamt that I was at home - where I was born -
with my family - with my legs under the table, and on the table a great
deal, a very great deal indeed to eat. Summer, Italy -- Naples? Yes,
Naples...this is hardly the time to quibble. Then all of a sudden the bell
rang, I got up hurried to the door - and who did I see? I saw him, Kraus
Pali, with hair grown, clean and well nourished, dressed as a free man,
with a loaf of bread in his hand. Yes, a loaf of bread of four pounds,
still warm. I felt full of joy and made him come in, and I explained to my
parents who he was, and that he had come from Budapest, and why he was so
wet; because he was soaking just like now. And I gave him food and drink
and a good bed to sleep in, and it was nightime (can you see the circle
closing Dan?) but there was a wonderful warmth, so that we were all dry in
that moment (yes I was also very wet)."
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" Poor silly Kraus. If only he knew that it is not true, that I had dreamt
nothing about him, that he is nothing to me except for a brief moment,
nothing like everything ii nothing down here, except the hunger inside and
the cold and the rain around" Primo Levi.
The hunger inside and the cold and the rain around.
'What is inside is outside and what is outside is inside.' Dostoevsky
It will be a few days Dan, until i can put the words of David Bohm together
....
(Dedicated to 'little Hurbinek', aged three years who died, tattooed on
his 'tiny forearm', in Auschwitz, March 1945 -)
"Free but not redeemed"
""We know that tomorrow will be like
today,...perhaps..or...perhaps..or...one of those great changes might take
place, which has been infatigably foretold""
Love,
Andrew
Andrew Campbell
Angel Meadow
Oxford
End of Part
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