Monday, November 5, 2012

The Futile Passion or Battle Against Meaning.



     These hundreds of thousands of words occupy me in a search for The Grail.  Which sounds like the fustian rhetoric of a Pompous Ass.  Nonetheless I'm inclined to think this Grail predates the Mesopotamian cultures whose interpretations we have inherited.  I'm inclined to think it goes back in time to a point on a line that I can briefly conceive of as the origin of the universe.  And it is not surprising that the word 'point,' as a noun, has at least thirty five nuances in its meaning, one of which is 'moment.'  I also permit myself the understanding that in my own species, questions without answers are anathema, or in an other way, questions without answers provision competitiveness, otherwise the hole is empty.  And this is the root criticism against those who fall into the category of existential.  Amongst the High Priests of my denomination, life is at it's best when conceived of as "futile passion" against "ultimate meaninglessness."  And inspirational though this is, how much easier on the mind it becomes when the Grail has substance, as though it  had indeed been held in the hand as a real thing.   My job, would simply be to search for this thing.  Then I could answer my question by saying, "Yes, it's somewhere under the Vegetable Garden."  And I could become useful, reach for the shovel, dig down to the Australians, so that I might alarm the hell out of a Kookaburra.


    The mind of a Possum, is very different to mine.  He has the two sides to his brain, but there is no connective tissue, or semicolon between these two sides.  Which suggests to me that a Possum Mind, each time he falters, goes back to the end of his last full stop.  This is a characteristic a Possum shares with his fellow Marsupials.  I on the other hand have connective tissues, colons, semicolons and even commas between the two sides of my brain, and this is a characteristic I  share with Mammals that are not Marsupials.  I'll call these connective tissue, "confusion."  Something those who are more cheerful will insist upon calling "curiosity,"  a dainty little word, which in its archaic use implies fastidiousness, or persnicketiness, or nit-picking, or the condition of nosiness.  I am very certain that Rats are better at negotiating a Maze than I am.  And I am told The Virginia Opossum is better at negotiating a maze than The White Laboratory Rat.  Which means that in the experiment, I would be floundering around, still trying to comprehend the purpose of the experiment, while the Virginia Possum would be running the home straight, perhaps with his tail high in the air so that men in white coats might give him the winning smile along with a trophy.  As well, the Virginia Possum finds himself under no obligation to rake leaves at this time of year, which in  my view gives him a huge advantage in the battle against meaning.


No comments: