15 May, 2003
Dear, sweet, lovely, Yen,
I'm in Brooklyn, NY. Sunday I am bound for the west coast again. I will be in back in Berkeley before long... back under the loving boughs of the HMS Yenni. For now I am in the urban wasteland of one of the world's greatest cities. I am visiting a young actress friend of mine. She is but a mere 22, and has come to "New Amsterdam" to starve, perchance to shine, an aspiring broadway star. Such youthful idealism is hard to fathom for one of my wizzened experience. <smirk>
The overcast sky does not bode well for the viewing of the Lunar eclipse tonight. Alas. The impending alignment is felt. I am converging myself with an ancient friend of mine from many lifetimes ago tonight. My highschool friend, duly employed and living in midtown Manhattan. He's made it to adulthood in a big way. I am frozen in time whilst all those around me age so rapidly...
It is true we wanderers do just that. It is enough to know that we can always be found. You should always recall that I love you; it is enough that we keep in touch; someday our paths will cross again... In our respective self-imposed exiles we shall still keep in touch and touching thoughts are not bound by spatial separation.
Derrida: You seem to be taking the message to heart. That is good. I am doing the same. It is a truly delicious and painful experience to try to live by what is demonstrated in his work. You are reading Dissemination? I have read the first third of that, and Of Grammatology. Glas, however, is by far the biggest mindfuck I have ever encountered. Finigan's wake leaves one with a certain dread, but Glas seeps under the skin, stings the eyes, knots the stomach, disgusts, repulses, enlightens, bogs down, falls apart, and bores. All at the same time. You neglected to mention; have you encountered Jean Genet in your time? He is new to me, but his writing is beyond erotic, beyond pornographic, beyond obscene, and back full circle to beautiful. Were I not confidently bisexual I would be outraged. I can see why it is not discussed in exegetical material. Its absence had perplexed me until the correlations between all white milky fluids from baby spittle to semen were drawn.
In living by his light, I have concentrated on the notion of lateral sliding. Sliding between concepts, between constructs, between comfortably compartmentalized ways of thinking. I live now at a greater peace than ever before in my life. I have a direction "for now," a time and a place and a direction. My life is resolved as a vector, a linearity. However, in the notion of the lateral slide, that vector is only fixed from a reference point of the Now. And, well, now is a system of forces, only one of which is my "I". Meanwhile, now is the sliding, the lateral shift. As now shifts sideways, the vector force of my life course has to be averaged with every other concomittant force encountered; as if a stream of water sprayed from a moving train. What results is not a vector averaged out based on the velocity of the stream at ninety degrees from the train averaged with the velocity of the train forward, but rather a cloud of possibility. For the wind, the interaction of the particles of water, the temperature, the bumps in the track render impossible any accurate measurement of what exactly the stream, the "I", could possibly be. "I" then is a cloud of possibility; much like the current model for the atom. We cannot determine with certainty the path nor position of an electron about the nucleus, but we can define a field of possibility.
Bringing it home: the result of this analysis: Those who seek "knowlege of self" in a concretization, in a solid model, in a "this is my path" sort of way are doomed to angst, failure, midlife crisis involving sportscars and shallow trysts. Those who accept absolute indeterminacy in a "no future" sort of way are bound for the same destiny. However, those who simultaneously accept contradictory present states; who no longer resolve 'now' into a discrete position, who accept that "now" is instead a cloud of possibility, not a steady state but an indeterminate, perspectivally determined and as such variable point, will be closer to seeing the truth, will be less likely to end up in a crisis ridden, existentially black future.
I live as if the past present and future are equally unknowable, indeterminable and prespectivally determined. If the past is not considered "known" and the future is not considered "unknown" and the present isn't considered reducible to "the real," then we are starting to dwell in the world of Derridian epistemology
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