15 Jun

Testing testing testing, one-two-three: Earth do you read me? Do you think I’m weird? Do you love me, my lonely blue planet hanging in the Milky Way’s outer arms? I love you. How I’ve missed you.

When I began this blog I had no plans. Twelve months on drawing and colourwork opened some door in my mind. Suddenly there was a hole in the dyke that divides the rational Western mind, cuts Reason off from all that we know to be truth without a shred of evidence: the mythological cushions that makes life mean something. And, in this rare condition, I just decided to sit down once a day and write whatever.

And whatever did I write? I’m not yet quite sure. So much of this shit just baffles me. Truly. Confessions of faith! Scat poetry that begins in the Sadean nightmare of the east Congo and ends up with naff buskers in Melbourne. According to Arnoldian standards of rhetoric it doesn’t make sense. I’ve said it from the beginning, I don’t know what I’m going to write ’til I do it. I didn’t know the title of this post ’til this morning.

Why did I do this?

Because after such intellectual transformation as has obtained in my life over these five years past I needed to know what I truly believed, how I truly felt and what was really important. To do this you must give yourself up to the source. You must not reflect, you simply do… and deal with consequences. When you paint you use a different part of the mind. Something that cannot be analyzed. I simply transferred the process to the written word. Hence this sometime spooky, flipped-out, hippie jive. But I dig it the most. Best thing I ever wrote.

Being from a long line that goes back straight to the Scottish Enlightenment I have always been the son of David Hume; facts, sir. I want facts. But I am also the child of a thousand years of Irish suffering wherein the word, the song and the image of Madonna was all there was to keep the stark madness at bay. I know the value of science but I love the valleys at sunset. What happens in the lab doesn’t provide me the meaning of life (like it might for Richard Dawkins). And this meaning of life in the face of the Infinite has been (I think, feel) shriveled, shrunk and pre-packaged in our culture. Our spirit is distilled for us, designed according to the latest neuroscience bytes and focus groups vectors.

We all believe in Nothing together, no more. We share no gods. And our profit on’t is that we drink or some such and by compulsion to stay the Void. We throw ourselves to the maelstrom-warm arms of Dionysus and forget the future. We trash the Earth and argue about whether we should care, chanting: fuck it all, fuck it all, fuck it all! Twelve months of the year. How many tired eyes I see in the street, sorrow-rimmed and bitter. Poor monkeys, what have we done to ourselves?

When I started, I barely announced the blog. One comment at first and for the next few months I had exactly 14 regular daily readers. To those people, I raise a glass. You’re my people. And, considering from whence you must’ve come, I’m touched that my stream-of-consciousness bollocks warranted that kind of daily attention.

And now I am finished with this first phase. The raw material. The day has come and I will leave it for a time and go on to other things. But I will return and fashion it to a book that will be sent out along the noosphere for whomsoever may care. for whomever cares Upload to iBook, tablet, laptop, a public terminal, a phone etc …now and always free of charge.

And good luck to it whatever comes of it including nothing. I will trim it, I’ll reorganize but I won’t rewrite. It is honest in a world of ghosts and that is enough.

Meantime we are nowhere and it’s now. Let us pray. I have spent many years a monk i’ th’ abbey cultivating the mind serious. This is my duty. But reason is a lonesome, cold place without a magpie’s song, a tree’s gnarly bark, the soft eyes of a dog. Reason thus and thus, do’t all you wish. But without laughter, without dancing, without the occasional and most delicious fuck, well’t means nothing does it?

All is reconciled. I am a Stoic – peace to the People of the Book. I am a Romantic and the Buddha teaches me that nature is endlessly complex. Grow in all directions but walk, like Christ, with grace and love. Try anyway, stumble, fall, get back up, do it again. If you wish to be free you must master yourself and transcend. It is a life-long journey.

All is reconciled. I am an anarchist but I love tradition. To reach the city that knows no coercion means you have to love the Law. I know who I am and what I believe. I have found a vehicle, I have found the side I have been seeking all this. I am on the midnight path walking by the light of a full moon. And my heart is full of love.




  1. John June 15, 2011 at 7:47 am #

    I know the value of science but I love the valleys at sunset.

    But it is bad to stop, hard to be satisfied with a single way of seeing, to go without contradiction, perhaps the most subtle of all spiritual forces. The preceding merely defines a way of thinking. But the point is to live.

    page 63
    The soft lines of these hills and the hand of evening on this troubled heart teach me much more. I have returned to my beginning. I realize that if through science I can seize phenomena and enumerate them, I cannot for all that apprehend the world.

    Camus, The Myth.

    “Romanticism alone can seriously damage your mind, bur reductionism alone can seriously damage your soul.”

    The Collapse of Chaos: Discovering Simplicity in a Complex World,[Jack Cohen, Ian Stewart

    What happens in the lab doesn’t provide me the meaning of life (like it might for Richard Dawkins).
    Rationalism and doctrinairism are the diseases of our time; they pretend to have all the answers.

    ibid, page 330

    Overvalued reason has this in common with political absolutism: under its dominion the individual is pauperized.

    ibid, page 333, Jung, Memories, Dreams, and Reflections

    6.52 We feel that even when all possible scientific questions have been
    answered, the problems of life remain completely untouched.…

  2. AC Stewart June 16, 2011 at 3:29 am #

    hard to be satisfied with a single way of seeing

    No. I think we’re too much under the umbrella of a certain way of thinking. It’s the effect of science without actually being science. After all people are still very much inclined to be convinced they know something as if by empirical observation and critical reflection, yet they don’t. We are still superstitious peasants yet we let some bastard child of reason enslave us.

    contradiction, perhaps the most subtle of all spiritual forces.

    I think paradox is at the heart of spiritual force. “What God is he writes laws of peace and clothes them in a Tempest?”. To which I respond where’s the value in living in a peace that has been accomplished in spite of the Tempest? It’s hard, that’s the point. And also..

    But the point is to live.


    • AC Stewart June 16, 2011 at 3:30 am #

      That should be:

      To which I respond where’s the value in living in a peace that has NOT been accomplished in spite of the Tempest?

      • Peter Patton June 25, 2011 at 1:16 pm #

        “Oh Lord, Make me chaste, but not yet!” 🙂

  3. Peter Pattpn June 25, 2011 at 1:14 pm #

    “We are still superstitious peasants yet we let some bastard child of reason enslave us.”

    That would be summing up how very Xian we remain. That is the Xianity of Augustine and Copernicus, not the Xianity of Tertullian and Fred Nile. 😉

  4. Peter Patton June 26, 2011 at 2:45 am #

    Adrien, while I agree it takes all kinds, yada, yada, I must say I am baffled by this crush you have developed on ancient stoicism, especially the flavor represented by Cicero, and history’s biggest bore, Marcus Aurelius! Though not as baffled as I am by SL’s recent ravings on Roman law and stoicism. Have you read her decree blaming homophobia, misogyny, marxism, and the Holocause on Aristotle! And on Aristotle’s polluting the Renaissance with his value theory before the Europeans had time to discover Roman jurists! The poor dear seems to have forgotten that it was her favorite Roman stoics – Cicero particularly – who cooked up natural law bollocks in the first place.

    You are free to have your stoics. I’ll keep Dionysus, whom the Presbyterian Romans legally proscribed under the penalty of death!

  5. AC Stewart June 27, 2011 at 2:45 am #

    Aurelius inspires me like the Gospels inspire others. He speaks the Truth. Sorry if he bores you. As for Dionysus: well I said I was a Romantic as well. You can be a Confucian and a Taoist as well. I haven’t read Helen’s blame the Holocaust on Aristotle schpiel. Haven’t had time to go into blogs too deeply. But I’d be very surprised if your summary was accurate. Link?

  6. AC Stewart June 27, 2011 at 2:46 am #

    I should add that my modern philosophers are Nietzsche and Khalil Gibran. The Stoics veer too far toward Reason. Not enough raaaaaaaagggggeeee!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: