Evolutionary Revolutions
When I picture it, nearly all of my actions and thoughts and expressions and volitions are intentionally revolutionary, if not conflictive, designed to cause some sort of stir, however indirectly, to disturbs someone's universe, even if it's my own.
By revolutionary I mean the word in its most literal sense, in the sense of revolting against something, anything that is established, reptitive, habitual, ossified and stultificated, anything everyone does, from the clothes they wear to the movies they watch to the words they say- some sort of animal restsance to change, to a new form of being - all of my actions among others beings in this strange field of being, the strange field of perception relayed to me by my senses.
The question is, to what end, and why? From whence springs this piece de resistance?
What if, what if all my actions were designed to fail, set up to fall apart and not take an eventual form, something intelligible? What if I were to position myself at the expense of some sort of con, some sort of cheat, some scam? Could I then transcend both the desire to succeed and be thought of well? Is this not revolutionary too? What if all my words were not intended to mean, to not signify? Is this not a revolution too, some attempt at being contra the norm, looking for the liminal, the interstice of convention at which meaning falls apart and the human organism goes back to nature, translingual and beneath cognition? The little cracks in society where rules and familar forms dissapte, fog up, become faded, and in comes chaos.
When I picture it, nearly all of my actions and thoughts and expressions and volitions are intentionally revolutionary, if not conflictive, designed to cause some sort of stir, however indirectly, to disturbs someone's universe, even if it's my own.
By revolutionary I mean the word in its most literal sense, in the sense of revolting against something, anything that is established, reptitive, habitual, ossified and stultificated, anything everyone does, from the clothes they wear to the movies they watch to the words they say- some sort of animal restsance to change, to a new form of being - all of my actions among others beings in this strange field of being, the strange field of perception relayed to me by my senses.
The question is, to what end, and why? From whence springs this piece de resistance?
What if, what if all my actions were designed to fail, set up to fall apart and not take an eventual form, something intelligible? What if I were to position myself at the expense of some sort of con, some sort of cheat, some scam? Could I then transcend both the desire to succeed and be thought of well? Is this not revolutionary too? What if all my words were not intended to mean, to not signify? Is this not a revolution too, some attempt at being contra the norm, looking for the liminal, the interstice of convention at which meaning falls apart and the human organism goes back to nature, translingual and beneath cognition? The little cracks in society where rules and familar forms dissapte, fog up, become faded, and in comes chaos.
