(Elaboration
1.01)
Psychologically speaking, being elected
to govern in America is very
much like being commissioned to teach a common language at the University of Babel. E Pluribus
Unum. We've got the "Pluribus" part down pat (no one can say that
Americans don't understand diversity). It's the "Unum" we seem to be
having trouble with.
And for us the only possible bedrock
principle of that unum? That we acknowledge as our common creed a faith at once
the most profoundly religious and least dogmatic, least denominational of all
of history's endless fumblings toward the divine, a faith as blind as our
yearning for justice, as directional as our understanding of hope. Freed by our
insistence on the absolute necessity of an authentic self, a singular soul wrested
from the clamor of the social mass, we deploy the right to a will thus won to
navigate toward a distant and anonymous light, the endpoint of evolution.
By itself reason is insufficient for
that navigation. Proceeding as it must from fact to fact, building thereupon to
create still newer facts, reason unrestrained and untempered can yield only its
own endless self justification. It can have no object but its own infinite
elaboration. Ultimately tautological it produces only classification and
hierarchy. Thus, while giving every impression of movement, it is essentially
static. It is movement we seek and insist upon, a genuine change of state, a
birthing into the world as new creatures, remade of our freedom's victories.
And reason of itself neither guides us nor propels us there.
Slowed by resistance, stung by doubt,
gutted by indifference, I am become cautious of heresy --- rational, religious,
or scientific --- and therefore often plead either ignorance or humility. But
truth external to me intervenes: it is an error to mistake ignorance for
humility or humility for ignorance...and a greater error still to mistake
either for fear. And so I too am thrown into tautology. To save my self my
thought must spin, as does a dervish.
An individual journey, then, not of
itself grounded in hierarchy, in acceptance of the consensual order, but in the
aggregate of all such journeys --- which aggregate is properly understood to be
simply the whole of history, its substance and elaboration through time ---
revelatory of an innate hierarchy, an innate order, neither discoverable nor
describable by reason alone.
Science --- reason --- has brought us
to this point but can carry us no farther.
Referential Note:
"Do I believe in mortality? I've
looked in the mirror every morning for more than sixty years and every morning
the evidence is there, successive, stark and indisputable. So of course I
believe in mortality. It's death I don't believe in." (Page 92) Prattlesham, Herbert Displaced Souls:Convalescent Conversations On Theories of Finality
Atlanta: Prescott
Press, 1979. Print
(Elaboration
2.0)
How then do I understand the Christ? As
the sum of all the innate, unrealizable aspirations of our common
consciousness, the coda to all our immemorial dreams, the teleological tautology.
Asked to explain this understanding, to detail its meaning, I cannot.
Understanding is primal and individual, explanation secondary and communal.
Thus I can point to the words as experience only, I can say only that the words
themselves are the meaning, that the meaning palpitates there, that the meaning
luminesces there.
Proposed, A
Corrective Thought for the American Consciousness:
Capitalism is not a religion, economics
is not a theology, competition is not the proper fundament of moral law, and
neither greed nor penury is a virtue.
At its deepest, music is the consort of
the art of silence, the negative space defining mute thought, the figure-ground
reversal of contemplation.
What we understand as action --- the effect
on reality of pure will absent individually ascribable material intervention
--- becomes possible (specifically, most properly, perhaps only) at the
intersection of wisdom and intent.
The structural disadvantage under which
all secular government labors is that it must by its nature function as though
there is fundamental truth to the notion that you only live once, whereas in
actuality the most one can properly say logically is that you only live one
life at a time...and for certain deeply matured souls even that last misses the
mark.
Preamble to
An Overdue Confession:
As with so many of my contemporaries
(and so many of our offspring) I am a creature of the 'sixties, shaped by
upheavals in a pacific common consciousness birthed in renunciation of its
antecedent history, the horrors of our fathers' wars. Forming a community of
thought contraposed to the culture of our nativity (a community based perhaps
as much on youthful hormones as on youthful ideals) we proclaimed our identity
as the generation of "sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll." In my own case,
energy and time being constrained, the deeper exploration and fuller
allegiance was limited to but two of the three. As rock and roll was the
easier to abandon --- and for me the infinitely less interesting --- the choice
was not a difficult one.
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