“…We are mankind
We are manikin
With and without mind
With or without Darwin
The strings of my autonomy
Corporeal, corporeal…” ~Broadcast, Corporeal
The imitative reality of the corporation, of a viral ideology which raises the abstract and obtuse formulations of mankind above the regenerative processes of the natural world, undermines completely our corporeality. The imposed individuality of the colonialist divide and conquer framework through which a person is only as valuable as the sum of their parts — the sanguinary digits which they use to “pull themselves up by their bootstraps”, a physically impossible feat which denies the inherent interdependence of all living things upon one another in order to maintain and sustain their very existence (as realized by the natural sciences, as most lucidly stated in evolutionary theory, and the Tao, and in our very physiology as a species of ape, and in the directly observable harmony present in all things) — not only has no basis in Reality, but it reduces the act of living as a struggle toward a vapid happiness based upon a false sense of independence dependent upon the widespread acceptance (if not in theory, evermore in practice, as seen in rapid rise of consumerism as the world strains itself to imitate the American ideal) of Social Darwinism, which has less to do with Darwin even than the nourishment of our physical bodies is dependent upon a reverence, a taste for Rockefeller.
Thank you for your questions, Rrofessor Pawal, I appreciate your curiosity: I’m trying to say as little as possible (in order to render unto Caesar — The Empire of Language — while not losing my spirit/wasting my breath, since to type is to direct my breathing directly toward the motion of my fingers in a redundantly and reductively digital way and “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”), to give a critique of The Thing (in Latin: Rebus, the root of the word Real), or Names, by giving a direct example, in my writing, of the futility of ideas and therefore ideals, as things which are used to unmasterfully (mis)shape reality (since a society based upon a foundation built by feeble tools can only support such feeble tools — e.g. A house of cards can only house cards), thereby actively acknowledging that nature is truly beyond human desire’s control (since I am human and I cannot tame my own ideas, which are only an insignificant, infinitesimal representation of the true being of things, the Tathagata, the Suchness, the fertile emptiness of the fallow field/womb/matrix). To quote the Tao Te Ching (or, one translation, at least, by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English), “The Tao that can be told is not the everlasting Tao/The name that can be named is not the everlasting name/The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth/The named is the mother of the ten thousand things.” Which is also related to the answer for your second question, regarding my capitalization of the R in Reality: Since in English, proper nouns are capitalized, proper nouns being the Names of Individual things, this is what I am attempting to do: both to acknowledge the separateness (individuality in the typical, separatist sense of the word) of the Ultimate Truth (or “R”eality, since the capital “R” is the True/Original “R”, since historically, it has been around since the Classical Roman period of the Imperial Romans, preceding the lowercase “r”, which didn’t arrive in the Latin alphabet until the rule of Charlemagne, as explained in the book Alphabetical by Michael Rosen) from our realm of perception, contemplation, and description, but conceding that in order to do this, to point in the direction of the Ultimate Reality (for my own sake as much as anyone else’s, since the whole point of this failure of an Essay is to point out that my being is dependent on others’ being, as much in the Doing of Being (action) as the Seeming of Being (acting)), and to acknowledge my dependence (individuality meaning indivisible) upon ideas, because I am not yet (aware that/how I am) Awakened to the Ultimate Reality myself, I can only do this by using the very tool I am at once criticizing (as Lao Tzu — the “old boy” — is credited of having done in the 81 poems of the Tao). So, essentially I am tautologizing (paradoxicating/koanizing?), in order to show the faultiness of “logic” and “reason” in the first place, since as a neophyte Buddhist/Taoist, I strive to embrace emptiness and form and form and emptiness (as stated in the Prajnaparamita Hrdaya Sutra) as both the cause and the solution to my suffering and the suffering of all things. Also, it’s a little bit of verbicide on my part, since (acknowledging too that Montaigne is the father of the Essay, from the french for “to try”), I am actively trying to not try to be convincing and thereby embody the foolish wisdom of an old boy: Real (pronounced with a trilled R: Rrreh-Aahl) in Spanish (my mother tongue) also means Royal, and the Buddha himself (the prince, Siddhartha), who achieved awakening, as well as Christ (son of Herod, who accidentally granted Christ his life by failing to murder him), was the son of a rich man wandering poor on the earth, whose wealth lies in the Ultimate Reality where the only wealth is the wealth of the spirit, breathing, the bellows as described by the Tao; and simultaneously (less voluntarily) paying my tribute to the Imperial Romans to whom we owe our alphabet, our rhetoric (and by extension our colonial ambition, since to implement language for the sake of criticism and argumentation is to attempt to homogenize and control thought itself — to make others agree, and think like oneself) and therefore our ideas as well, when they are written in this way.