An arrow never really moves parallel and level, and its penetration is
jagged. So wherein lies the trajectory of existence? It is not evenly plotted,
though plots conspire to pin down, provide position, categorize. Categorization
is the new imperative. This isn't too surprising in a bottom line society
where the accuracy of numbers is the only concern-statistics, demographics,
Nielsen ratings, etc.....abstractions brought to life. The test balloon
serves the pollster's whimsy.
In a bottom line society no punches are pulled...all quantities are easily identifiable down to a particular human emotion. One goes to the Hallmark store to seek out the exact sentiment for that exact occasion, staving off any potential accusation of having said too much or not enough.
The self is subjugated, eradicated and finally reduced to a set of meteorological
projections, football scores, and race and gender pigeonholing on job applications.
Even recollections about the baby's first tooth or it's controlled bowel
movement are commonly upheld as being formative. The self must move beyond
this. The self can not be seen as though it stands behind a plate glass
window; its expression is not transparent. Yet, the one-dimensional expression
of the self has pervaded our lives and the only recourse is to reinvent
the animal within us bone by bone, germ cell by germ cell, ligament by ligament.
We are holding a subjective mirror up to the face of objectivity. Nature is only recognized, but it is never reduced to a singular line or freckle.
The 20th/21st century and beyond are slowly shaping up as the era of communications. Messages are shaped by the clouds hanging overhead and they are fired at distant targets at phenomenal speeds. They arrive at their destinations and are immediately measured for their impact. Indeed, the urge to communicate has become urgent. Lag time is seen as a nuisance; an inordinate amount of time spent on processing is seen as a weakness. In short, communicating has come to mean ramming the point home rapidly and definitively. Yet, certainly this is only one quality of communicating. The glory days of innuendo, hint and suggestion may be over. They belong to yesterday's marks of intelligence; they are slowly becoming the exclusive domain of the less-than-confident. The whisper has lost its power.
It is that idle time of processing between successful transmissions of encoded material where the imagination rules. In the realm of the imagination, all possible outcomes justifiably remain. Disparate elements come together. Systems generate new connections, reorganization occurs and a new simplicity emerges disguised under the rubric of complexity. Sleep integrates all and can not be bred out of existence.
It is during this "downtime" that entirely novel creatures are borne, huge, wonderful, international creatures whose first breaths astonish. Visions enter upon our torpor in the hive and transform the order of sociopolitical creatures. They unfold us from the inside out. The stomach of the onça, the jawbone of the mammoth, the orangutan's grin, the REM patterns of the beaver, the kangaroo's pouch, the great auk's wings, come together in the form of a terrific beast which is the Mongryl .
Mongryl--the Journal of Enlightened Downtime
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