Showing posts with label surrealism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surrealism. Show all posts

Friday, September 28, 2012

Magical thinking

"Has the world ever been changed by anything
save by thought and its magic vehicle the Word?
"
~ Thomas Mann
 
 
 
 
The Fool is numbered 0; he is nothing, a blank slate, a tabula rasa, ignorant even of his own ignorance. The Magician, second of the Major Arcana, and numbered 1, is the Fool within the Abyss, knowing himself and his ignorance and the transformative power of that ignorance. The Magician is the Fool enabled, energized, created; he is the Trickster God made manifest.
 
Where the Fool represents the seeker after wisdom, the Magician represents the awareness of things unseen. He is not the apotheosis of wisdom - that comes later - but he is on the path, because he is no longer seeking. What we are seeking, we cannot have found, or else we would not be seeking it. The Magician understands that it is more efficient to stop looking and instead focus on seeing. In Rider-Waite, the Magician is crowned with infinity, and girdled with Ourobouros: all things begin and end in this moment of awareness, this consciousness, this satori. The staff of the Fool has transformed into the wand of the Magician; the wand is raised to the heavens, while his other hand points to the earth.
 
The Magician is the bridge between the subjectively real and the transcendentally surreal; he is the Gateless Gate. He is the potential in Man, the aptitude, the capacity. Self-aware, self-possessed, self-sufficient, he is the catalyst: unchanging himself, he changes all. This is the mystery beyond reason. This is the maker and unmaker of mountains and rivers. This is the beguiler of the senses, the deceiver of the mind, the keyholder to the doors of perception. Should we trust him? That doubt is the manifestation of the Unknown; fear of the Abyss keeps us from him, but acceptance of the Abyss - Foolishness - encourages us to take the leap of faith. We take nothing in there with us; we are only ourselves, but fortunately ourselves are more than our selves, since we are parasimplices. The Magician knows this, knows us, intimately; the Magician is us, any of us, when we accept all of what we are - fearlessly, foolishly, fully.
 
The Magician represents, above all, the mystical process by which the unknowable objective is transcended to become subjectively real. This most crucial mystery is the beginning of all magic: it is the creatio ex nihilo, the divine spark without which the world remains meaningless and void.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Taking stock

"Deconstruction insists not that truth is illusory
but that it is institutional.
" ~ Terry Eagleton





On its face, "parasimplicity" looks a lot like an excuse to make things that are really simple a lot more complex. But, as I hope you've picked up by now, what parasimplicity - or anything else - looks like isn't close to being what it really is. For instance - and this is just a 'for instance' - it also serves as a handy tool for making things that are really complex a lot more simple. The Law of Fives is extremely simple, and as good a shorthand for the very complex things it actually references (which this collection of blogs to date has similarly referenced but at more length, including the obligatory self-similar discussions of the Law of Fives itself). The reduction of all paradoxes to the twin paradigms of All-in-One and One-in-All is another parasimplistic operation (actually the final operation in a chain that begins with the appreciation of all statements as interactions of paradoxes, but we'll get to that).

So, how do we apply parasimplicity? How do mountains become not-mountains, and then not-rivers become rivers? If you've been paying attention, you may already know. What you know may even be what I was trying to say; equally, what you know may be more than what I know. We can't know what we don't know, but we'll get to that, too.

Let's tie in the koan to our five-layer reality cake.

Mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers - this we can consider to be referring to the objective mountains and rivers. Bear in mind that these are not mountains and rivers we can ever directly know: we form subjective impressions of the relations of properties we intuit as belonging to the objective realm, and that is as close as we can get to knowing them.

Mountains are not-mountains and rivers are not-rivers - these not-mountains and not-rivers are not, as you might be forgiven for thinking, equivalent in our model to the subjective mountain- and river-impressions. The not-mountain is the intersubjective mountain: the mountain that emerges from discourse, from interrogation of our subjective mountain-impressions. IF the objective mountain is real, and IF our impressions of it are accurate, and IF we share our impressions truthfully, and IF we don't later edit or filter our consensus to fit some concept of 'truth' - and those are all very big 'ifs' indeed, which we'll review when we turn to Baconian Idols in the near future - then the not-mountain may be apparently identical with the mountain (this is one of the cruder approaches to paradox resolution, in fact - the rejection of the paradox as presented on the grounds that the presentation is corrupted by one or more of these factors). But not-mountains are, well, not mountains..

Mountains are again mountains and rivers are again rivers - these 'again' mountains and rivers are the transcendental mountains and rivers, which we have said are immanent upon the subjective (we might, with a sly wink at Dali, say they are immanent upon the objective as well; in fact Dali's paranoiac-critical method is another rewarding subject for study). We have already said that we can't directly know the objectively real mountain - so how can we possibly hope to know the transcendental mountain beyond? We cannot cross the same river twice (so claims Heraclitus), so how can we know the transcendental river that is beyond all those once-crossed iterations?

The answer is that we need to work against our brilliant knowledge-building engines, our glorious rational Big Brains. We are hardwired to recognize patterns, and we are hardwired to filter and sort the data our brains receive to make it a coherent conscious experience (a trivial example with which you're probably familiar: optics being what it is, the visual data we receive on our retinae is inverted; our brains flip the image over during processing to restore it to its putative objective orientation). However, if we seek the transcendental, that which is equally remote from all things, that in which mountains are again mountains is equivalent to mountains are not mountains or even mountains are rivers - we won't find it after our brains are through processing the data.

Recall that objective entities are entirely separate from subjective ones. Yet our brains, in processing the data from the objective, produce impressions that are subjective and are qualitatively the same as Humean ideas that have no relation to empirical data whatsoever. What this tells us is that the process of rational cognition is capable of bridging the divide that separates objective and subjective - and what that is really telling us is that, somewhere in there, we are working in the transcendental. Each and every one of us, it turns out, is also a Gateless Gate.

The transcendental Universe is self-similar, not only with the objective, but with the myriad subjective Universe-impressions. We could, perhaps, approach some rational understanding of the transcendental if we could somehow simultaneously apperceive all of those possible subjective information-states; but the self-similarity of the Universe, embodied in the Gateless Gate of each self-aware consciousness, makes this unnecessary.

How do you pass through a Gateless Gate? Begin with a gate, and take the gate away so it becomes gateless. Then pass through. 'Get OUT,' as Crowley had it.