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persistent obviations

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  • persistent obviations

    someone studies a rock, akin to an egg, with fish on the scale of sperm swimming. from far away, the two scales (fish and sperm) are the same. the laws which govern the movement and the interpenetration of the analogies between the two, these are tenuous but set. one might begin to realize that when forming an analogy with the sperm/egg, one already looks and the work is being done upon the other metaphor/analogy: the way, then, we can see science as being 'dubious' between scales. since we do not have any reference scale, other than an arbitrary one of points brought together in mutual geometry, we then have to assume that there must be things which continue as 'habits'. we can forgive our eyes, yet they do error. are analogies perfect, the function of nature? when we analogize grass we bring up a system of meaning, and ideational images, and some sort of movement. a dynamic. we can thus see that while seeing on scale of the sperm, and supposing the sole definition of this were made explicitly, this would be relative, actually, to the rest. the rest of what, then? what total systems generate these elements, namely the four elements which make everything up. when we discover a relation, a connection, and a meaning between two levels, an analogy is set up which begins to map out reality. truth becomes transcendent, it becomes both the fallible information, and the ideal perfection of itself on all scales: truth would consume, in tyranny, if not for what? values not tied to dark and light judgments. I had the idea that on one scale it would be true, and yet a semi-working relationship (fish movng like sperm) would posit 'something' between different scales. there must be a break between dimensions, it seems. for if not, wouldn't fish move from one sea to another like sperms move from body to body, in mutual exchange, much more than this study can tell. it would seem the symmetry has to be broken because if not all levels would be too similar, and not enough variety/differentiation would be apparent? if in a curled up level, it unfolds, and we find mirrors that show us another side of ourselves, a different way of seeing, so that we make a glass of these perfections and imperfections (because they exist together "as one")-- if the system would break and reform into moving more like what it beholds! conduction, connecting, and the prime material being worked with. we can see how a system has zero-one, destruction-creation. it could be that 'science' pushes into nature with a scalpel, and the dead parts that wash up on language's shore part in parcel 'act' with a volition a structure with time, movement, in order to be seen in a more complex habitation with different orders. so that the beauty of expression is valued, as that thing which dies and is reborn, which changes worlds and dimensions, goes from where no water is, the dry, to the ocean. settles between harmony and chaos. the idea apprehended as is, perfectly expressed, comes as a dolphin through the water, above the surface, and plunging down again. penetrated like a net. art must be instructed of mother nature, and have her hands in its devices. love must inform idea, as seed, and seed come from itself. flying, swimming, and then our walking. the expression of the nature tries to regain itself by perfection, in what we language as a struggle thru time, time and space which we define sometimes unknowingly. --thus a relationship is set up between things which may 'seem' opposites. movement and stillness together would imply 'forever complete stillness', and set up opposing modes in our expression that would oversimplify what we could glean otherwise, from other scales of knowing which would provide wider arrays to explore. having only now just turned inside out, the thing is changed 'in me', so I relate differently, in order to further see this thing reflecting me, ever-changing. the goal is to keep reflecting! it was never wrong: sometimes we look for a way for the voice to reflect (or would an inner sound bring warmth) so we muse by these things in a twilight of dust and tendrils, moving as a pure sea, wondering if 'information' lives -- or dies there? we could continue wheeling in lost seconds of love, the system a victim of a scalpel not in this dimension, nor like the cutting of a diamond which doesn't bring blood and doesn't offend. we take a liking to the cold grey indeterminacy, in a land of positions only relative in a queer 'together' sort of gravity. I am not sure why, but I know I'm not the only one.
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