And when we are going totally schizo…is there a relationship between going schizo and the aperspectival learning that Gebser defined as an irruption?
noun-a breaking or bursting in; a violent incursion or invasion.
And what is in a name? *
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet
And I can offer another name…
How about the Elijah McClain High School of Beauty and Truth?
I have been to Baton Rouge many times, I remember the harsh chemical smell, the oil pumps along the Gulf Coast, and we passed over the Mississippi River, and went down a gravel road and ate dinner at shack, a creole restaurant, served by black folks, chicken fried steak. Daddy left a big tip, the biggest tip he said those niggers ever saw. I remember it was $ 5.
And then to visit the plantation of the Confederate President Jefferson Davis ( my brother named after him). A well preserved mansion, with a big library and a gallery of grim white men.
And I feel for that southern culture a hatred, a shame and also a strange pride in the beauty of the language of the people, the beauty of the blast made by the good minister from Baton Rouge. May his voice be heard around the globe.
And that is what speech act theory is all about. When you are centered, as the good minister is, and are aligned with truth, a terrible beauty is born.
When you use the language of contempt, which my father was a master of, you create havoc,and unleash the dogs of war, and you will be chased through the swamp. I have been chased through that swamp many times before.
Yesterday, my heart, betwixt the extremes of joy and sorrow, felt like a trapped bird. I stood upon my firescape, in a thunderstorm, stripped down to my underwear, gazed up at the black sky, notice the pigeons whirling over head, going crazy in the fierce wind, felt the crash of the thunder, and enjoyed the rush of the cold water against my bare skin. Then, above the East River I saw a rainbow and reached out my hands, palm upwards.
Rainbow! Rainbow! Rainbow!
I have only seen a rainbow a half dozen times in my life.
And God sent Noah a rainbow sign,
No more flood, the fire next time.
My middle name is Noah. John Noah Davis, Jr. I hated that I shared a name with my father. I never used Junior in any signature I made. It has taken me a life time to figure out that I don’t hate him anymore but I do continue to hate what he stood for. I did not like him and when he died I never shed a tear. He hated himself as much as he hated black people. He was a frightened bully.
But what he stood for must die also. He was a liar and a coward, as are the white men who crushed the beautiful life out of George and Elijah. I refuse to carry forward the white supremacist body that my father demanded that I carry. I will not watch, frozen in white apathy, the ongoing slaughter of the innocents. My Daddy told me that he wished I had never been born that to be a queer. He spit in my face.
Get thee behind me, Satan!
And when Aurobindo, in his subtle body, confronted the Nazi forces, and changed the outcome of that War, does such a subtle body have a size of a shape?
And do the laws of entropy apply to that subtle body?
And how does the subtle infrastructure, that I want to co-evolve, possibly work?
[noun: infrastructure ; plural noun: infrastructures
- the basic physical and organizational structures and facilities (e.g. buildings, roads, power supplies) needed for the operation of a society or enterprise.
I agree, Marco, but someone has to do it.
Is anyone catching the rhythm, the vibe? I think this is the first thing we would notice if the subtle, invisible infrastructure was re-embodying through our too, too solid flesh.