By Brian George
The persistence of the 3-dimensional book
You have correctly understood that this is less a piece of social criticism and more a diagnosis of our particular point in the time-cycle. Time—whether or not it actually exists—does appear to be accelerating. We can feel this physically, as around us we see the objects that the stagehands have rearranged. It is not surprising that these objects block our view. More surprising: That the stagehands that we see are not usually the same ones that have moved the objects. So: In the foreground we have objects, which we—as “domesticated animals” or livestock herded to the slaughter—must once more learn to read as signs, as we fill in all of the relevant missing pieces of the Ur-Text. Our eyes see what is in front of us; to see the rest, a different faculty is required.
You wrote, “When, 12,000 +/- years ago we decided on agriculture and religion, we sealed our fate. The end began. As it accelerates, what does one say? What does one suggest? As this bus careens off the cliff should we open the windows or leave them closed?” I would answer: That this is not the first time that the world has been destroyed. We should go off the cliff with the windows open.
As the man said when he jumped off of the 50th floor of a building, “So far, so good!”
There have, indeed, been many words spoken over the past 12,000 years, and even more words over the past 108,000 years, and even more words over the past 432,000,000 years—more words all the time, the great majority of them useless. There are those few that are not. “Words, words, words. Endless words,” you wrote. Let me add: Words float like the wreckage of an inter-dimensional ship on the surface of black water. Gone: The greater part of the ship, its passengers, and its cargo.
You wrote, “Unless we can reintegrate ourselves into the living, conscious, multidimensional web, we will annihilate ourselves and our planetary home. We either will, or we won't, and I'm betting on the latter.” As paradoxical as this might seem, to say that we must “reintegrate” ourselves is perhaps to repeat the very mistake that we criticize. Somehow, it is up to us to “fix” the large-scale movement of the cycle—but perhaps our greed and our alienation and our near-suicidal arrogance are also parts of the process.
Laird Scranton, in “The Cosmological Origins of Myth and Symbol,” writes, “Commensurate with the notion that each Word of the civilizing plan was meant to be reflective of a stage of creation, Ogotemmeli says that one consequence of the introduction of the First Word, like the initial act of perception in a massless wave, was that it resulted in a great deal of confusion and disorder among mankind.”
Let us imagine: That we are standing on the curve of a curriculum as solid as the gradually changing surface of the Earth, and as fixed as the Earth’s orbit around the sun, as fixed as that of the sun around its hyper-dimensional source. Let us imagine that all of the oceans of the Earth are just stage-sets in a tiny theatre—a theatre that itself is turning through the oceans of galactic space, whose energetic currents lash the globe. So, is there anything in particular that we should do? I would say: That we must find a way to see and then to act from more than a single location.
(Illustration: Mario Sironi)