Little different from the passions
with which Sade's heroes burn
and so close to those of martyrs and saints,
followed by states of grace
that exceed the intended results.
No one abandons themselves to the ordeal
for mere and vulgar praise ----
the consequences of lucid doctrine
are merely the harvest of LIGHT.
An entire nation, for 15 years,
remaining deaf to this voice,
ISN'T THAT SOMETHING SERIOUS?
True aspiration intensifies
to the point of alarming -----
this itch for pleasure,
for sanctity, for death...
the city merges with the gods
and exhausting tasks appear
at its very limits:
the worst simplicity,
NAKNESS, is obtained for them.
The total man, a bit of a buffoon,
a bit of God, a bit of a madman,
is pure transparency (the
Shakespearean sum of
whims, lies, pain, and laughter).
The awareness of totality is
an unforeseen balance of tensions
in the flow of endless incoherence,
a bold simplicity
and incessantly at play,
the profound disagreement
but danced on a tightrope.
This dazzling dissolution into totality
justifies life as an "unmotivated party"
and even as an "enthusiastic torture."
The time of freedom is that of laughter,
of the unintelligible Heaven,
and this comic responsibility
bothers and oppresses us.
Whenever you want
ResponderExcluirThis morning, wandering.
The expense. The city.
Come see me with your camera
or talk to me on the street
to tell me why
I stand by the side of the road
listening to the wind hitting the billboards.
Empty stomach. Throbbing nerves
ticking like clocks.
Let me tell you right now:
Day or night,
for coming to me whenever you want.
Too high to fall.
Or so low that you can't move
when you want.
On the other side of a wide road,
at any time: scarecrow
and black crows in the field.
MY IMPRESSIONISM
ResponderExcluirThe spectrum externalized for us
the composition of light, that qualitative essence
of sensations, where love cannot penetrate.
If we were to dwell on my novels,
after they were finished, we would find prefaces
or pages after books, where I examined myself
with the cadence of a musician.
Rupture - texture, liquid canvas,
while I fragmented myself into poems
read my thickest books.
Was I in contradiction with my own impressionism?
Pain in the sand, skin deep, face without pause.
Acrobat entangled in a cloister of skin.
I had examined my extrinsic value like an archaeologist.
What does it matter if such a monument is new or old?
Whatever poetic it possesses has been extracted
and circulates like a traveler: a nocturnal wanderer. Wind!
To the last drop.
The character has acquired that look,
not exactly penetrated by images,
of the creature passing by, and takes on a variable value
by furrowing his eyebrows or flaring his nostrils.
The essence operates and shines through.
ResponderExcluirThrough speech,
Dasein is already "aletheuein,"
that which does not forget,
veiling and unveiling.
The being of which is the eminent opening
and the fall into everyday life
when the circuit of speech
meshed with that of communication
transmits the common interpretation
(public, anonymous, repetitive, and reflexive);
decayed in and by language,
converted into a manipulable instrument,
an instrument worn out by consumption;
language becomes
manageable through its exchange value.
People negotiate with the
verbal gestures of chatter:
verbalism closes us off from the world
and language only opens to poetry,
shaped by a disposition
that takes us back to the origin,
to the very being that reveals itself in the work,
that emerges in its sensitive organization
stamped by the origin of the act.
In a work of art, the essence
operates and shines through. Origin.
Poems from my book MANTRAKR
ExcluirIt is difficult to leave your place
ResponderExcluirwhoever lives near the origin
HOLDERLIN
(Die Wanderung, vol. IV; Hellingrath, p. 167).
The modern era is "abandoned", verlassen, in what constitutes its very essence. This is not a thesis but the fundamental feature of the progressive emancipation of science and technique by which the modern era is defined. We are in the third and final phase announced by Augusto Comte. Science and technique have gained their autonomy vis-à-vis religion and philosophy. Even though they are multiple and competitive at many points, the sciences have something in common: they establish positive readings from recordable experiences, and are thanks to an operational and calculating type of thinking. The theory has turned out to be totally positive: according to the Kantian principle, the verification of the theory must be experimental. This is exactly a "challenge" in thinking[vii], it is a decision, for men, who in the midst of so many "data" do not find themselves, even less in their essence[viii]. The man is a "date" to himself, but he does not experience himself as a "date". It has entered its own statistics: a calculation factor among others. The spirit, with intelligence[ix], includes all things so that they respond to your requests. It demands from everyone a full accounting rendering. Modernity is this conquering rationality. It constitutes the first aspect of "what exists today on the entire planet"[x]
ResponderExcluirThe second aspect of modernity must be sought in its project of a domineering will. The calculating network through which the technician grasps all phenomena and the earth itself is already a submission to action and transformation. Intelligence is a power, a sketch of manipulation and death. Truth transformed into exactness is perverted, das Un-Wahre schlechthin, for from now on only the will reigns. Its reign promises security. But this security is configured outside of truth, das Wahre, the only thing that truly "protects"; insecurity manifests itself everywhere. [xi] Human beings fixate unilaterally on the objects at their disposal. In other words, they experience being as that which confronts them, as a test of strength: Gegenstand. In the face of this world that opposes them, they assert themselves as subjects; they grasp themselves as the center of reference for reality. The self-assured subject, dazzled by their power, measures everything by the yardstick of their intelligence and will. The only kind of power of truth that is recognized is effective truth, that which "serves a purpose."
ExcluirThis description of modernity may seem excessive. A more elaborate attention to the political aspect of existence would perhaps lead to a less severe view of the contemporary era. Heidegger did not attempt this. Eric Weil[xii] and Emmanuel Lévinas[xiii] are among those who advance most resolutely in this direction. The conclusion remains, however, the same with regard to the abandonment that is our subject. From whatever angle one considers contemporary man—rebel or hippie, technocrat or sniper—Heidegger's conclusion is difficult to contradict:
ExcluirMan is on the verge of launching himself upon the entire earth and its atmosphere, of usurping and subduing, in the form of 'forces,' the secret realm of nature, and of subjecting the course of history to the planning and domination of a planetary government. That same "rebel man" is not in a position to say simply what it is, to say what it means, in general, for a thing to be[xiv].
In a critical movement of thought, Heidegger now questions the conditions of possibility for this "night of the world." He discovers them in the withdrawal of an origin, as old as the history of metaphysics, but which has only manifested itself at the twilight of this history. In other words, the West has been abandoned since its beginnings, but this abandonment has manifested itself, for those who know how to see, barely a century ago, with the transmutation of all values. Nietzschean nihilism is revelatory because it exposes the metaphysical Other of man as the true foundation of human life and thought, that is, as something available. The abandonment of the West begins with this question: What is the foundation of all things that "makes" them what they are? Thinking from things (or from man, that is, always from an entity), this foundation can be functionally determined. Such a determination proceeds in at least two stages: what is, because it is multiple, is not for itself; What is, because it receives its unification from man, is in reason of Another.
ExcluirThis Other "certifies" what is. The other that grounds it is the certain. Insecurity, a sign of nihilism, is therefore ancient in the West. Western thought poses the question of the reason for what is. To demand an account of reality, to give reason, to demand an ultimate "why," is the characteristic attitude of what Heidegger calls "metaphysics." Philosophy in general has emerged from this instinct: to find a true foundation that binds all things together and reassures the "restless heart." Thus, it found what it was seeking: esse, the foundation and reason of ens. But, Heidegger asks, is the foundation of things thus represented being in its truth?
ExcluirTo this question, Nietzsche had already indirectly answered: Being is not. [xv] This is a verification, not the opinion of a gloomy, mentally unstable person. Nietzsche verifies the death of what made being. What is Esse? That which has died. What is being? The will to will. Heidegger's purpose, in his writings on modernity, is to read these two answers in their unity. The collapse of Esse as ultimate reason and the excessiveness of the projects of the will, which has only itself as its subject, are two sides of the same demand under which the West has always thought.
ExcluirFor a century now, what is seems to have lost its foundations. This loss is the disappearance of something whose appearance, in another era, was self-evident. It is at the moment of the disappearance of reasons that thought questions their fate: where did the grounding power they seem to no longer possess come from? How could that which for centuries founded all that is, vanish? Is it necessary to say that a piece of the universe is missing? On this piece, now lost, the universe would have rested until our era: What is this loss capable of shaking the repose of the universe? What has been lost is more than one "reason" among others. To ask "because of what" reasons fulfilled the function of reason is the question of a reason, conceited in itself, that seeks to explain disappearance with the help of what has disappeared. It is the ultimate form of secular forgetfulness, the forgetfulness of Being. Esse as foundation or as reason is not Being in its truth. The destiny of Western thought is our abandonment of being, unsere Verlassenheit vom Sein[xvi].
ExcluirThis is the first meaning of "abandonment" in Heidegger. Philosophy, concerned with explaining what is, its arché and its télos, has confused Being with both the totality of beings and the supreme Being, God. But it has left the question of Being itself in silence; Being is the unthought of the philosophical tradition. The fading away that horrifies our century and precipitates it into multiple tranquilizers is more than the loss of a piece of the universe: Being itself is missing, das Sein selbst bleibt aus[xvii]. Traditional philosophy speaks of Being "as Being," but this only in order to be able to better think Being (which is God, the totality of the world, the subject, the spirit). Therefore, it continues to think Being; it only thinks Being insofar as it serves its discourse on what is; Being is an a priori for it[xviii]. Being is thought from Being and with a view to Being. The philosophy of a priori pretexts being in order to "certify" the entity.
ExcluirThe era "abandoned by being" is an era of more than two millennia. But the technological century is the most abandoned of all: the impulse for authentic questioning, contained in the interrogation of "insofar as," has fallen. Perhaps the interrogation "without why" is possible only at the end of nihilism endured to its ultimate consequences. The stages of the era from Heraclitus to Nietzsche show, each in its own way, the only destiny the West has had: that of the withdrawal from being, Seinsverlassenheit. Heraclitus inaugurates, Plato objectifies, Nietzsche consummates, and Heidegger conceives this "unique epoch."[xix] The mystery of being has fragmented into the mystery of man, the mystery of the world, the mystery of God. Only a thought that poses the question of being in itself, albeit from the perspective of the one who poses it, but not in view of him or in his service, will enter the path of mystery, which is no longer that of abandonment as forgetting, but rather that of abandonment as listening and as memory. This second aspect, in which "abandonment" does not translate "verlassen" but "gelassen," will bring us closer to Meister Eckhart again.
ExcluirWith you the road is endless
ResponderExcluirBy Eliot Cardinoux
With you the road is endless.
Winter has not yet come to the slopes
of your beauty and my tired feet
are a chrysanthemum’s sun.
Love is hiding, just as a dream is there
in front of my eyes and the last song
is a stone that torments an ideal.
with you the road is endless.
IDEM
ExcluirFurther From the Road
(Ex)colere, exercere, studere
Cast in a glimpse,
bronze angles,
cry for us –
what was tempered
from the dust;
we were not,
our eyes were not,
all that did not belong to us.
Gathered, they gathered
the wheat, the moonlight,
the word spoke,
primaevus,
the young, was a drab shawl
and marked the man, Abel’s brother
for what crime he didst commit.
And Hesse, in doubt,
called to an older friend,
and called not.
And was no sermon
and Pilate was not there,
the students
and Pound’s beard,
but a stubble.
And envy spoke not,
silent, Academicus,
and spoke of it all,
and was not of shame.
And I awoke, seeing the birds around me,
burdenless, and the mountain was not,
and was not survival,
and the beholder stared upon the perceived
like a child with his mouth open,
and the birds around me,
turned not their eyes.
And drank, they drank coffee
in the room, furnished with old oak,
and the book, covered with dust,
and on the shelf,
a bust of Ceasar,
soggy with whining.
Idem
ExcluirGasping for Breath
The distance crowds around me
like filth. The form takes shape
like a light in my heart,
invisible, arching to the depths.
A green machinery
that moves in alliance
with its purpose
beats out its dull tones.
I am of the mind that it is somehow me,
but this sound is only
the beating of my heart,
gasping for its breath.
Continue tonight!
ResponderExcluirAbandoned being. In the Thor seminar in September 1969, Heidegger distinguished three meanings of Gelassenheit. The first, he says, points toward what is, toward being. The second considers less the singular being than its entry into presence as such. The third, finally, indicates the "letting go" itself that allows what is present to enter into presence. In Time and Being, Heidegger had said regarding the latter: "It is now important to properly think about the letting into presence, insofar as presence is abandoned."[xx] We will follow these three milestones through the arduous landscape of Gelassenheit; the third will bring together in a new way the historical dimension included in Heidegger's critique of modernity.
ResponderExcluirThe Abandoned Being - This meaning of abandonment is more easily offered to understanding, since it is ontic. However, it is not so easy to "abandon beings":
What could be simpler, apparently, than allowing a being to be precisely the being that it is? Or rather, will this task lead us to what is more difficult? Thus, such an intention to let beings be as they are represents the opposite of this indifference that simply turns its back on beings. We must turn toward beings with the aim of remembering their being, but in this way, we must let them rest in themselves, in their essential unfolding.
By Eliot Cardinoux
ResponderExcluirAbandoned Railroad
When puffs of smoke
moving handworn
music of a moment
is unlocked, and sound
placed upon an open chamber
finds its rattle –
in blessèd heed,
find the abandoned railroad
in the self-less figure
where began to separate
and look upon
no person but
a frame in which
cool water often waited,
there is strength
to be spoken.
by another,
whom that figure
in the autumn
only color –
These lines are certainly a human attitude. "We," that is, human beings, must let being be. Calculation, the subjugation of things under the dominating will, every attitude of power over them must disappear if being is to manifest itself as what it is. This is what the title of meditative thinking is appropriate for. To let go of being is to remember it independently of any project. There is no doubt that in contemporary times, due to the double alienation of intelligence and will, such an attitude is particularly difficult. Meditative thinking, in the technical universe in which we live, consists of simultaneously saying yes and no to consumer products. We can say yes to their use and yet remain free. We can abandon these objects to themselves as something that does not concern us intimately. Refusing their total mastery is the contemporary form of detachment. Whoever thus abandons technical objects in their totalitarian pretension does not turn their backs on them. Their "no" is the condition of the "yes" to their essential unfolding. Abandonment, as an attitude of meditative thought, establishes a simple and peaceful relationship with things. The detached person lets them enter his everyday world, yet leaves them outside.[xxii]
ResponderExcluirThus, abandonment of being and remembrance of its being say the same thing. In Heidegger's words, which are difficult to translate: Besinnung is the Gelassenheit with respect to the only thing worth interrogating, namely, Being. [xxiii] Abandoned epochally by Being, Western thought must, in turn, abandon Being if it wishes to know what is of Being. If it is true that this task leads us "to what is most difficult," it is not simply a problem of speculation. It is difficult to set aside Being because it is difficult not to think of it as grounded in the supreme Esse. Metaphysical speculation seeks a primary foundation in the order of Being and ultimate reason in the order of knowledge. From this speculation results the submission to calculation. Abandoning Being amounts to nothing less than renouncing an available presence, a stable reality within reach, which allows us to account for reality in its totality. But this renunciation is the condition of the thought of Being. The latter does not represent the entity tied to an immutable order, but rather thinks of it in its essential unfolding, Wesen.
ResponderExcluirThus, abandonment of being and remembrance of its being say the same thing. In Heidegger's words, which are difficult to translate: Besinnung is the Gelassenheit with respect to the only thing worth interrogating, namely, Being. [xxiii] Abandoned epochally by Being, Western thought must, in turn, abandon Being if it wishes to know what is of Being. If it is true that this task leads us "to what is most difficult," it is not simply a problem of speculation. It is difficult to set aside Being because it is difficult not to think of it as grounded in the supreme Esse. Metaphysical speculation seeks a primary foundation in the order of Being and ultimate reason in the order of knowledge. From this speculation results the submission to calculation. Abandoning Being amounts to nothing less than renouncing an available presence, a stable reality within reach, which allows us to account for reality in its totality. But this renunciation is the condition of the thought of Being. The latter does not represent the entity tied to an immutable order, but rather thinks of it in its essential unfolding, Wesen.
ResponderExcluirEste comentário foi removido pelo autor.
ResponderExcluirTrue the first texts of ELVIRA can be full this line at the point!
ResponderExcluirELVIRA
ResponderExcluirAt that moment, sitting in the living room of my apartment, in Itaigara (where I have lived alone for ten years), with my glass of Red Label in front of the computer, I was meditating on the poem that a friend of mine's blog (K) had just posted. It was a poem by Alfred de Musset (1810-1857), entitled SAD:
TRISTESSE:
ResponderExcluirJ´ai perdu ma force et ma vie,
Et mes amis et ma gaite;
J´ai perdu jusqu´a la fierté
Qui faisait croire à mon genie.
Quand j ái connu la Verité,
J ´ai cru que c´était une amie;
Quand je l´ai comprise et sentie,
J ´en étais déjà dégouté.
Et pourtant elle est éternelle,
Et ceux qui sont passés d´elle
Ici-bas ont tout ignoré.
Dieu parle, il faut qu´on lui réponde.
Le seul bien qui me reste au monde
Est d´avoir quelquefois pleuré.
Undoubtedly, the poet was referring to Truth, the same Truth that Heidegger had displaced from its classical place in the proposition of "adaequatio rei et intellectus" (adequacy of intelligence to things) to that of the UNVEILING OF BEING (Alétheia), in correspondence with the idea of OPENING.
ResponderExcluirConsulting the notes he had taken in Professor Benamag, at the State University of New York (he is an Austrian invited to give a year of lectures there), I read aimlessly in my notebook:
"The opening is temporal or historical, occurring both prospectively, from the present to the future, and in the direction of the past...
"Heidegger is silent about the privileged access to Truth (Alétheia) and escapes the paradox of the self-referential critique of reason only because he claims a SPECIAL STATUS for the REMEMBRANCE (anamnesis) of the Forgetfulness of Being, that is, exempt from discursive commitments."
"In my opinion, Derridá, by not considering such access a privilege, does not make it any less esoteric, and by making access to Truth objectless, only succeeds in replacing the mute mysticism of the later Heidegger with rhetorical verbiage that seeks to supplant the hierarchical and gnostic idea of the Logos, pulverizing it into a dispersed and fragmented infinite’’
Rereading Musset's poem in some parts:
ResponderExcluir"When I understood (the Truth)
It caused me only great aversion."
(...)
"But, in this world, it endures
And if someone forgets it, they seek
Living is in folly.
God speaks."
Right: "And our response?" I wondered, at that moment, if by chance the privileged access to Truth, to A-létheia (the UNVEILING) didn't involve, first and foremost, paralyzing the intellectualist impetus to dissect fleeting impressions, imprisoning them in words, converting them into thoughts, into discourse --- which (I still thought) often leads us to brutally destroy THAT IMPALPABLE BRIGHTNESS that is the greatest gift they offer us.
Reading a few more notes, the Austrian professor seemed to intuitively lead us toward a free and empty zone, a cleansing of the island where we exist daily:
ResponderExcluir"Man suspends his animality and, in this way, life is captured and abandoned in a zone of exception—"
"If the anthropological machine was the engine of man's historical becoming, then the end of philosophy and the fulfillment of epochal destinies mean for Being that THE CURRENT MACHINE IS TURNING WRONG—"
"Man appropriates his own latency (animality) and thinks of it as pure abandonment."
Instinctively and frankly, after my fourth glass of whiskey, I wonder if I'm not falling back, now that I feel drunk (as drunk as Allan Watts), into cheap Zen Buddhism. I'm certainly flirting with the Kyoto School here. However, I still believe it is necessary to endow our consciousness with the shifting fluidity of life, and to grasp with eternally renewed intuition the eternal renewal of a world that no longer renews itself except entropically, rotting through choking and alienation.
The idea of the Heideggerian OPEN as OPEN SPACE ZEN, stripped of the conflicting idea of alétheia as a place (polis) where every extreme opposition to illatency and being dominates.
ResponderExcluirFrom the Buddha's precepts, I retain that simple appeal to humanity:
"O MAN OF NOBILITY, REMEMBER THE PURE OPEN SKY OF YOUR TRUE NATURE, RETURN TO IT, TRUST IN IT. IT IS YOUR PLACE."
The next day, a Saturday morning, I was nothing more, in my own eyes, than a beast of burden devoid of Baraka—living the inauthentic life before a stack of books, taking notes with a serious air. Half an hour later, I leaned back, hungover, in the living room armchair, before the empty whiskey glass from the night before, for a long moment without strength or mental energy, my heart empty and my head dead.
In my mind, flashbacks of the trip to New York, where that prominent European professor had appreciated the originality and subtlety of my responses to his "provocations," seeming to place in me some obscure intellectual hope, behind those restless, almost hallucinatory eyes with which he gazed at the audience in his classes. The large, shiny bald head!
In public, however, I had become accustomed to disguising how deeply I had sunk into inveterate skepticism. My scruples of incisive justice were merely academic, intellectual, and I resented not having discovered over the years the access to the A-létheia promised by Heidegger in his unfinished work, which at the beginning of my research I had believed I could transform into a quasi-religious support, one that would propel my existence far beyond the Wolf of University Management, perhaps toward the light that so fascinated the poet Holderlin (already mad) gazing out the castle window from his desk.
ResponderExcluirYes, I dreamed at first of the UNVEILING OF THE TOTAL BEING "HAPPENING TO ME," as I climbed the ladder of academic prosperity, perhaps culminating in a spontaneous poetic illumination during a trip to some beach on the French Riviera, while sipping my ice-cold gin drink with basil and a small umbrella. And yet, now, IT!
Looking back on my life, I was faced only with that rapid and anxious accumulation of culture that now threatened to corrode my soul and life like acid; I felt paralyzed by the sterility of having to resort to Husserl to decoratively patch up my hypotheses about the conclusions of the later Heidegger---and the distress caused in the student by the later Heidegger (I thought) was also mine, as the terminology of the phenomenological autopsy is replaced by imprecations and shameless, cathartic, and poetic outbursts, shamelessly esoteric and prophetic in tone; the anguish of the researcher who follows the thread of the work and life of the German philosopher, from the Nazi rector of the Third Reich to the Poetic Turn, until he becomes a quiet and obscure gentleman of obscure past on the streets of Freiburg;
ResponderExcluira man who, starting in the Champions League round of 16, begins to experience strange jolts in his nerves. Then comes the suspicion of having dedicated my entire life to revering and echoing the inexhaustible intellectual and mystical activity of a madman, a madman thirsting for events of great impact, whose genealogy he is constantly trying to associate with his own thought, with the clash of his self with the world (there are not uncommon passages in which Heidegger seems to insinuate between the lines that Holderlin's absent god is himself; the parallel between his silence on the Nazi period, his personal distance, and his refusal of the public surface of being-there and the denial of the ultimate god is scandalously narcissistic).
Excluir
ResponderExcluir"Denial is the greatest nobility of giving and the fundamental trait of concealment, whose manifestation constitutes the original essence of the truth of Being. Only in this way can it become estrangement in itself, the tranquil, fleeting step of the ultimate god (-). This being-there of the ultimate god, however, has a place in Being, as guardian of such stillness."
Looking at myself in the mirror now, both my feelings about myself and my face seemed to display something avaricious, fragile in its nerves; a distant look devoid of any expression. A ruin!
I think it was at that moment that I turned on the television and lost myself in the newscast that was playing at the time, on CNN International. In fact, for the first few minutes, I couldn't even pay attention to the news content, and my perception adhered only to the viewer-anchor relationship itself, vaguely thinking that perhaps I was being observed without knowing it, a sensation that deepened a bit the moment I stopped thinking discursively. There was a moment, however, when I truly felt myself being watched by the woman from the American television station, and everything suddenly transformed: I sat up straight in my chair, and an irresistible urge to "pose," adjusting my glasses on my face, took over my being. I instantly fabricated another, in-front-of me, metamorphosing myself into an image with each news call.
ResponderExcluir
ResponderExcluirI felt that, with each news story, my other self was either recreated or instantly pulverized. I felt with all my mind that, by surrendering to that sensation, I was risking myself on the edge of a precipice. I felt like I was being painted, drawn, all without my knowledge, and that I struggled frantically so that the anchor and the reporters she contacted would capture from me only a fine moral texture, and not that jumble of mimics with which they pretended to mimic the monkey business of something as indefinable as it was ridiculous. When the anchor called the previous night's market numbers (Friday), I no longer had any doubt that I was being watched, not just by the newspaper, but by the entire world: the Dow Jones had fallen 127.04 points --- it was the number of my building (127) followed by the number of my apartment (04). Yes, it was ME there, being analyzed, poured, shaken between a thousand variables, at the meaningless whim of the situations, as if DISAPPROPRIATED OF MYSELF, in favor of a heavy and vulgar image of myself, in which the entire human society sought to support itself, at the cost of keeping me inside a jar of poop.
ResponderExcluirI felt immediately condemned by Philosophy and its Truth, for I had been thrown into the polar opposite of where they stood: I had been imprisoned beneath the irons of facticity, of herded existentiality, and of the ruin of empty verbiage in its public version of events, diverted from my existential project and reduced to a ridiculous patchwork between the borders and disturbances of a world eternally watched by police. A promiscuously public hallucinosis that replaced the clarity of the OPEN with the shadows of a thousand and one aspects of that which rumbles and resounds and dies in the distance without producing meaning.
Ultimately, immersed in the naive and chaotic objectivism of the American newspaper, they repressed me, throwing me deep into Plato's cave—the very landscape of my apartment was now nothing more than a loan granted to me by the owners of my existence. Chained to that trafficking machine, I would repeatedly change the channel, looking for a quilombo to escape to, and the behavior was identical among all the journalists, regardless of country, skin color, or political affiliation: I was reduced to the condition of a slave. The television's gaze turned me into an object beneath myself, subjecting me to that agonizing itch of having to "pose" constantly, suffering as if in a surgical operation, to fight against the object-like immobility that had corset my being, my essence, within that closed field of affronting and deforming forces.
ResponderExcluirHERE A FRAGMENTFROM OTHER TEXT -----------
ResponderExcluirELVIRA
ResponderExcluirThe aggressive thesis that human existence is justified solely as an aesthetic phenomenon. The "hollow sonority" of grand concepts, which permeates our daily landscape with newspapers, emptying words of their power to convey humankind's relationship with BEING. From this death, all that remains is the embalmed communication between the media and the markets, nothing more.
K
ResponderExcluir(with raised finger) Kierkegaard, if I'm not mistaken, also tried to think about subjectivity in light of categories unknown to the rationalist tradition: solitude, leap, the unknown, despair, anguish --- for him, the objective description of his reality does not convey his way of being. What discourse DOES NOT SAY then became the central point for anyone focusing on the problem of language. The language of the world does not bring man closer to the world, but merely dulls him in a game of ossified, fossilized meanings. It is precisely this emptying of the Greek Logos that, in Nietzsche's wake, will plunge all contemporary philosophy into the search for the Logos-poem, since science no longer lends itself to spiritual revitalization and the emancipation and unveiling of BEING; the instrumental character of scientific discourse stifles the establishment of MEANING and, therefore, of TRUTH, of OPENING, of UNVEILING.
Heidegger appears here pointing to the ORIGIN, historical and ontological, to which we must return to find the Logos-poem; for him, Hegel looks back and closes a cycle, while Holderlin looks forward and opens a new one ("in the silent contrition of poetic listening"). Here, according to the German philosopher, man must move away from the calculating absolutism of public discourse through which the world stretches; for "the historical knowledge required for a better understanding of the EVENT (Ereignis) should not (or cannot) be obtained through the observation and description of facts." Still according to H, inauthenticity is not limited to empirical use, indispensable to human communication, but to its elevation to the primary function of language and the illusion of a point-to-point correspondence pursued by speech.
Excluir