2:03 am
Give me four minutes, and you’ll have your fire. There is an art in lighting a fire, and attention to how you make ready the place of sacrifice should be the true object of any creator: that is one of the secrets. The beauty of any holocaust, no matter how slight your agenbite of inwit, must always be within the purification of your own intent. That’s where we will find beauty. I said we. There’s creation. There’s union. So what is it we are burning today? What did you bring?
2:52 pm
Eureka! Come in my darling, the water’s fine. The tub is small, but we’ll get comfortable. Watch that displacement! Oh well, what’s a little water on the floor. Is that your foot? Shove over baby, make some empty space. We must have space independent of things. Get that matter out of the void! Can we do that? Create from void? Creatio ex nihilo? The Greeks believed not. Most of their creations come from water, although Heraclitus prefered creation from fire. Imagine a tub of that! No, this is much nicer. And cosy too, eh baby? Come, let’s fingerponder the materia prima a little. Honey, you are filthy! Look at that sheen forming on the water. All those layers of belief you carry around. Here, have some soap, nice citronlemon. Get behind those ears. Wash every nook and cranny. Especially your cranny. Want me to get that for you? Not yet? Now, where does everything begin? Well of course, it begins with me. I am God. Yes. Yes. Wait, you don’t believe me? Well you should. And don’t worry, you can be God too. You are God, ok? God. Oh I see. You believe in a different God. Well you show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Go ahead. He’s a he. Ok. White guy. Yup. Seated, gotcha. A throne? A king of some kind? When was the last time you listened to a king? Ok, ok, it is your belief. Keep going, rinse it out of there. Facial hair. Old. A light. A heart. An eye in the sky. Well now, you’re just riffing. Tell me, have you ever seen God? Ok, I get it. Faith needs no proof; you do not need to see to believe. But what about unbelief? That is so much harder to accomplish, you know. What will it take for you to unbelieve? What do I have to do to wipe away that God stain marring your vision? You’re putting a sticky film on the surface of everything. Ick. Smells too. Wait, what did you say? What about my stains? My sheen on the water? Do I believe my own theory? No, of course not. I neither believe nor disbelieve. I need help too, a nice push one way or the other. Want to take care of it for me? Tell me, do you push both ways? Now relax a little baby, roll over and let me get to that cranny.
8:27 am
Yes this is a blog. Omphaloskeptics unite; we are a society of navel gazers. You read these words and trust my voice to speak the truth, from a first person. Read on pastfacingwise and you skip. You’re scanning. And you trust me maybe. So I speak what has been written for me to think according to the will of the creator, that writer of the great book into which we are all recorded. Or at least into which I am recorded and a few others. I don’t know what you believe. I don’t believe it in the slightest but I am telling you that I do. Some believe, like Phillip Gosse whose book Omphalos (written last thursday) that all the world was created with past intact and fossils of dinosaurs were created to be found, but the dinosaurs themselves never were: effect without cause. Sometime after last thursday Borges wondered if he had ever heard an ancient (that is to say, written around last thursday) sentence quoted by Rafael Cansinos Assens’ Talmudic anthology: “It was only the first night, but a number of centuries had already preceded it.”