Yesterday 05:54 PM
(This post was last modified: Yesterday 08:09 PM by Magical Realist.)
"..if you live in an unjust systems that by its nature cannot create just laws, then justice by default is an incompatible concept with your delivered worldview and being confronted by it would cause confusion and discomfort. So the Truth in a control system built on lies can only appear as irrational to those who were born in the system and taught how to perceive by the system and those touched and changed by the Truth would feel as if they were going insane and are filled with irrational thoughts and feelings.
The universe is the Black Iron Prison and is self-contained so it can only be defined as rational by its own internal logic, while the Logos, which comes from outside of the Prison, represents something both alien and familiar to those which dwell within the Prison (familiar because they contain in themselves some spark of the truth that the Logos represents) and operates on a different set of principles than the Prison and is therefore, when encountered within the prison operating completely irrationally. The familiarity on a ineffable level, paired with the irrationality of what is being encountered, both delights and terrifies. BUT at the same time the Logos represents true rationality- or more specifically, truth beyond the constraints of rationality.
It's like he's saying "The universe is a lie, it functions on rationality, which itself is a lie as it is derived from the universe. The truth is irrational because it is true and cannot be described with the language and notions of a false reality. The truth is also infecting more and more people and that infection represents freedom from the rationality of a false reality."---mfwank (Reddit)
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It is the purpose of the Logos, or Other, or the unconscious Trickster archetype, to incite epistemic anarchy within the enslaving worldview of our time. It does this by orchestrating events and experiences that defy conventional reason and so strip us of our complacent delusions of explainability and pat answers and egoic supremacy. Anomalous phenomena are doing this globally on both the individual and on the collectively human levels. Even if we could logically explain such bizarre developments in terms of our secularist materialistic worldview, and so brush them off as nothing at all, then the Logos would have to take a new form that will baffle and mystify us even more deeply. It's like the aim of Zen monks to present to our overrational and overthinking minds a moment of perfectly clear and yet utterly impenetrable paradoxicality--a simple koan triggering a lunge of our souls out from the constraints of our inherited and unquestioned worldview into the new and totally transrational reality outside of it. Truman's sky-fallen stage light. Neo's double passing black cat. Or Inception's lucid dreamer's top that keeps on spinning. A mere wayside seed or unraveled stitch that eventually instigates a wild paradigmatic upheaval of our self-contained Enlightenment metanarrative.
"Today outside your prison I stand
and rattle my walking stick: Prisoners, listen;
you have relatives outside. And there are
thousands of ways to escape.
Years ago I bent my skill to keep my
cell locked, had chains smuggled to me in pies,
and shouted my plans to jailers;
but always new plans occured to me,
or the new heavy locks bent hinges off,
or some stupid jailer would forget
and leave the keys.
Inside, I dreamed of constellations—
those feeding creatures outlined by stars,
their skeletons a darkness between jewels,
heroes that exist only where they are not.
Thus freedom always came nibbling my thought,
just as—often, in light, on the open hills—
you can pass an antelope and not know
and look back, and then—even before you see—
there is something wrong about the grass.
And then you see.
That’s the way everything in the world is waiting.
Now—these few more words, and then I’m
gone: Tell everyone just to remember
their names, and remind others, later, when we
find each other. Tell the little ones
to cry and then go to sleep, curled up
where they can. And if any of us get lost,
if any of us cannot come all the way—
remember: there will come a time when
all we have said and all we have hoped
will be all right.
There will be that form in the grass."
"Message From The Wanderer", William Stafford
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