Umbrellas Unopent in Tempests, Part IX
God is a confined space. God is a glowing eye the reach of which is confined.
The door of the cabin was a mouth; it didn’t gape, and as a good door, it allowed entrance and exit. Itwethey had entered and exited it many times, to the point it became the habitual act. It would be fair to say it was habitual to enter and to exit, but what happened was that it was habitual to enter, never to exit. Itwethey entered long ago and never went out. No matter where Itwethey went, Itwethey never left the cabin. Why the habitual would be unsymmetrical, Itwethey pondered. Itwethey left the cabin, went outside, walked down the path, laboriously surmounted windfall, went out onto the road, and from the road could have gone anywhere on earth—and Itwethey was aware of this potentas—this satisfactory openness (openness is power)--but nevertheless Itwethey never went out the mouth. Itwethey wanted to be the tongue sticking out of this mouth, or expectoration, or vomit—or a word howled--but it never happened. Itwethey was unexpectorant expectation, muffled, interminably. Itwethey was a guttural sound made at the back of the mouth (oral cavity as interior of cabin), echoing of the body, not rude, not significant, ultimately drowned by the teeth, the lips, and the front of the mouth (tartar.)
Itwethey doesn’t want to personify the stoop or the path. What does personification in an asubjectival world mean or do? Allow production?
It was a problem—Itwethey had been tortured to solve it generally or specifically, abstractly or concretely. Itwethey loved the idea of solving the problem randomly, because randomly meant, to Itwethey “no effort.” Unfortunately, all of the problems Itwethey solved randomly were solved unsatisfactorily. In all honesty, Itwethey often did achieve starting points to a solution via randomness—starting points, in other words first steps—to a hard won solution (hard won—in other words somehow “concerted” or whatever the antonym of random may be. Or whatever the antonym of “feel good” may be. Or whatever the antonym of “effortless” may be.) And also in all honesty, when Itwethey did so, he was forced to see how perverse the starting point had been (the random, effortless and happy “moment.”) Itwethey couldn’t “learn” from this, however, because Itwethey felt he knew he would never have had the courage or audacity to begin working to a solution at all, if he had not embraced some starting point, no matter how damned perverse it was…If the random made the “starting point” and made it palatable, and happy, and filled with joy, and in some weird violent and purple perplexed purplahexedenined pukla way something Itewethey could gather into, and coil up in, to strike “out” (out of the habitual which was in all ways always inward)…It was best.
The door of the cabin was a mouth; it didn’t gape, and as a good door, it allowed entrance and exit. Itwethey had entered and exited it many times, to the point it became the habitual act. It would be fair to say it was habitual to enter and to exit, but what happened was that it was habitual to enter, never to exit. Itwethey entered long ago and never went out. No matter where Itwethey went, Itwethey never left the cabin. Why the habitual would be unsymmetrical, Itwethey pondered. Itwethey left the cabin, went outside, walked down the path, laboriously surmounted windfall, went out onto the road, and from the road could have gone anywhere on earth—and Itwethey was aware of this potentas—this satisfactory openness (openness is power)--but nevertheless Itwethey never went out the mouth. Itwethey wanted to be the tongue sticking out of this mouth, or expectoration, or vomit—or a word howled--but it never happened. Itwethey was unexpectorant expectation, muffled, interminably. Itwethey was a guttural sound made at the back of the mouth (oral cavity as interior of cabin), echoing of the body, not rude, not significant, ultimately drowned by the teeth, the lips, and the front of the mouth (tartar.)
Itwethey doesn’t want to personify the stoop or the path. What does personification in an asubjectival world mean or do? Allow production?
It was a problem—Itwethey had been tortured to solve it generally or specifically, abstractly or concretely. Itwethey loved the idea of solving the problem randomly, because randomly meant, to Itwethey “no effort.” Unfortunately, all of the problems Itwethey solved randomly were solved unsatisfactorily. In all honesty, Itwethey often did achieve starting points to a solution via randomness—starting points, in other words first steps—to a hard won solution (hard won—in other words somehow “concerted” or whatever the antonym of random may be. Or whatever the antonym of “feel good” may be. Or whatever the antonym of “effortless” may be.) And also in all honesty, when Itwethey did so, he was forced to see how perverse the starting point had been (the random, effortless and happy “moment.”) Itwethey couldn’t “learn” from this, however, because Itwethey felt he knew he would never have had the courage or audacity to begin working to a solution at all, if he had not embraced some starting point, no matter how damned perverse it was…If the random made the “starting point” and made it palatable, and happy, and filled with joy, and in some weird violent and purple perplexed purplahexedenined pukla way something Itewethey could gather into, and coil up in, to strike “out” (out of the habitual which was in all ways always inward)…It was best.
posted by Yusef Asabiyah at 9:24 PM
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