…and the night looms light,
looming quilted sight
It is Nietzsche who haunts my perspective. His thousand words in seven plus or minus two. His music of the mind.
Once I knew a fool–he was always thus.
Music and Meaning–Two of the most developed traits in the human animal, music and meaning (warfare being the third and defining trait), are really one. Consider how people listen more to the tone and cadence of speech than to its specific content (except, of course, for scholars who are well off the mark besides). In fact, we can know what a person means without even hearing him at all. His body speaks his purpose. Finally, music has as much in common with vibrations of air as the cat guts that make them. Do you think the deaf ignorant of music? Quelle horreur.
Simple minded common sense–Man understands tracks of different shapes to belong to different kinds. It is unlikely that statistical experience could have served us up any differently. Of course, exceptions have always lurked along beside us, peering through the shadows of peripheral vision with predatory patience. ‘Truth’, some have named it. ‘Hell’, others. Its relation to our soul’s comfort has remained constant. We reason with ourselves–“I have not witnessed any crime. There has been no trespass upon my person.” Hypnotic eyes encourage us along these paths.
Reign of Subjectivity–…somewhere along the way a trickle of it forms a tiny rivulet. As it keeps running downward, into the pull, it and other rivulets can’t help but concentrate. Carried along by its collective accumulation, it penetrates farther than it ever has before and, reaching the end of its momentum, it dissipates, while, …
A Journey Across Mountaintops–The tongue is a sensitive, intelligent organ. A thing that can pronounce cannot readily be pronounced. If we could refine and make as subtle our whole awareness as are our vocal organs… only exigency comes up with a face pointing one way
To Get to the Point–It is easy to let oneself get carried away saying nothing encovering everything. At long last, let there be an anchor! Of course it’ll be arbitrary, we all know that. We already know how very deep is the well of the past. When our anchor catches, it’s against the walls of the well; a wall fashioned millenia ago by hands plumbing these same depths, smoothed and fractured again millennia thereupon by anchors just such as ours. We have strayed again. Damn generality for its lubricating influence on specificity.
To Get to the Point, again–getting to the point is the result of keeping trained upon the point by valuing it. Value is the relief of thrusting yourself headlong into something and landing on your feat. Gymnastics of will. Patent this spearhead of thought.
Evolved in response to: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/09/10/weekly-writing-challenge-stylish-imitation/