Generosity and the Celebration of Psychic Relief
There’s a level of personal, selfish relief that goes along with finally reaching this weapon of Bey’s anarchic magic. The fulcrum of sexual identity either enables easy passage to happiness and pleasure, or it restrains the traveler on an unquantifiable incline of day-tripping. With the immediate release of relational and sexual attraction to any and all plausible attractors, we don’t have to hesitate to fulfill layers of meta-rationalization with conciliatory drivel. Nope, we just head on through the thinly-veiled bubble of candid superficiality without a hint of leftover or residue. Unfortunately, there was quite a dramatic shift of paradigmatic action to get here. So let’s tell.
Generosity is psychic relief. Divulging shared, mental experience – dimensional action traversing landscapes of objective and essence-less depth – can acutely influence a panacea of heartbroken wanderers. Giving another individual insight into what ails us is like a hug, kiss, monetary donation or warm bed and meal. It’s simply a matter of perceiving it as such, with our long-strewn lines of flight from pointlessness to a zero-point metaphor for momentous malfeasance. The standard for celebratory, psychic relief condones counteraction to acceptable autosuggestion. In fact, the basis for each and every weapon of anarchic magic is the cosmically-playful retort and triviality of the ideology and epistemology so many people compound on. A reiteration of the koan ‘Look from one side to the other but never submit yourself to slur’ remains appropriately unsolved on the matter.
The expectation of real examples being undeclared frustrates the common activist desiring completion to attain celebration in infinite presence with finite essence. The movement is the celebration. The incomplete explanation is the generosity. If the attitude of a solution is intended to relieve psychic debt, where’s the remnant to prosper towards? What becomes obvious is the adage of the search as a precursor for more serious wonder/wander.
While attempting to retain a certain academic objectivity and lexicon along the same dialogical mindframe as previous weapons, a resultant, irresolvable potential fills the body. The congratulatory interactions necessitating psychic relief were present all along. The deep breath it takes to get from generously omitting one’s excuses from another person’s life, to reiterating every and all words taken to get to the purely intertwined causality of human and on to silence, arrives secondly. It was here, is here and is gone…but wait – another arrives! How aspiring the inspiration is!
Of the many anarchists and liberated thinkers who compose as a means toward anarchy’s majesty, the continued inscription is latent action and immediate gloom. On and on we drive forced, semantic energy into a structural formula for others in the same negative strata to understand and appreciate. The misstep lacks humor, lacks the slur and isn’t drunk enough to condone insult. We lack the self-awareness to commit flagellating aggrandizement of reverse schadenfreude, a spiraling slip into a decay of self-deprecating farts. Hold your breath now and the weapon of silence is even more powerful to meta-rationality, liberated consciousness, knowledgeable meaning and sex.
In conclusion, as I sit and use the first, recognized term of ego in American English, I look forward to silence. I see “The Language of Communicative Cognition” and want to skip right passed it, moving on to compose the word ‘silence’ over and over again. I then remember that my anarchic model of anarchaos relies on three words: less, simple, silence – roted throughout each and every weapon, subliminally or flagrantly. I want to get there so bad, so often, in the presence of others with brains gryried and sulcied as mine, or when faced with the instruments of death targeting the decimation of my anarchic allegiance. I will make a list, formality pending, but it won’t keep me from ending this, from my teleological de-notion of intentionality, Bey’s noema to my noesis. Your rhizome to my sprouting line of flight. The it to the me. The to…
Next and now: The Language of Communicative Cognition
Read above and look for words you don’t understand. Then sit and shut.
But honestly, the terms “communicative” and “cognition” reek of dynamism and ever-perpetuation. I can’t seriously describe a language of talk and think on the level an Umberto Eco would conceive of for a structural hierarchy of semiotics, or devise a Chomsky-Pinkerian tree branch of modulation for anarchist rhetoric. NP→V tangentiality is sterilized notation far beyond natural use, with the resultant process of realization from word after word composed tediously depicting feelings never arrived it again. I know Bey didn’t posit the arrival of a characteristic process, judging the process as uncharacteristic in-itself. There are faults in every statement and every cognitive strategy to remain logical in the realm of self-ridiculum scholasticism. And there’s no space in this root for anything more than what is there. So, again, read back through, understand you can’t understand and move on to the next weapon, the most powerful weapon an anarchist with clear conscience has against every organic deterrent not coalescing within a similar psyche. Be active in quiet. Less, simple, silence.
Now: Silence.