Plague Journal, Anti-gravity
The two modes of thought present radically opposed projects:
one hopes to reveal the objective reality of this world
but wants to be a distinct thought;
the other seeks to restore an illusion, of which it is an integral part.
One seeks a total gravitation, a concentric effect of meaning.
The other seeks to be anti-gravitational and to reach an “ex-centering” of reality, a global attraction of the void toward the periphery.
— Excerpt, Radical Thought by Jean Baudrillard
I mused on coming up with an example of anti-gravitational thought. There are many. Many examples show the insubstantiality of the world, that the world is not what we think that it is. The world shape-shifts; we cannot be sure of what reality “really” is. Is this disconcerting? It does not have to be. We are a part of this constantly changing dance of illusion. Welcome to the dance!
Here is an example of the anti-gravitational mode of thought. A poem…
Life and Death
Life
I saw the candle brightly burning in the room!
The fringed curtains gracefully draped back,
The windows, crystal clear!
Upon the generous hearth
Quick Wit and bubbling Laughter
Flashed and danced
Sparkled and pranced,
And music to the glowing scene lent cheer.
It was a gracious sight,
So full of life, of love, of light!
Death
Then suddenly I saw a cloud of gloom
Take form within the room:
A blue-grey mist obscured the window-panes
And silent fell the rout!
Then from the shadows came the Dreaded Shape,—
The candle flickered out!
2 thoughts on “Plague Journal, Anti-gravity”
In much of eastern philosophical reasoning it seems that there is an intent to stay “centered”, to find that sense of self that is rooted in something close to the real world. Since we are, by nature, both sentient and subjectively oriented creatures, the full truth with regard to reality remains consistently elusive. But, at least from my perspective, if we are to maintain our evolutionary march towards the next phase of the human species, we MUST focus on staying as close to that “center” as possible. Certainly the periphery, as noted by Mr. Baudrillard, appeals to a wide swath of humanity, offering access to secrets of some imagined exclusive club (i.e. QAnon) or even the illusion of eternal life. These things can be powerful draws towards moving away from the center and embracing a false narrative that only leads to chaos and self-destruction.
Keeping to the center; remaining mindful of our environment and our trek along this pathway called life, is not easy. We must always be questioning who we are and how we fit within the context of family, friends, and the world at large.
This is an extremely complex issue and the few words I’ve given to it here are a paltry offering of subject matter that could be discussed for decades by learned folks who know much more about the machinations of life than I do. Perhaps I can stand at the periphery and be drawn towards the center as I continue to learn and listen to those who can help guide me along and who can act as my white cane. And so I offer another poem from a time when writing was a part of me.
Acceptance
In the distance old men
gather at the edge.
They stand, waiting,
shrunken and frail,
depleted of a strength
that once varnished their bodies.
A voice calls, “Join us.”
I shake my head.
“I am not old,” I reply.
The old men chuckle.
“None of us are,” says another.
They all nod.
I step closer so they might hear,
“Time is of no consequence,
for I dream the dreams
of a young man.
You are old. You’re at the edge.
I am not. “
One man speaks,
“We have been friends
since we were boys.
We’ve grown and loved
and aged and you
have lost yourself.”
“Come stand with us.
The edge is just an edge
and you are not alone.”
Looking down, I see my hands
and know that he is right.
So I take another step.
The poem is an elegant expression of the inevitable “another step.” Shall we not take that step embracing our agency?