Culinary (Part II of the Arts & Sciences series)

a soup is water made with something

 

the making of something runs like water

running into the possibility of water

 

the water possibility of soup

is a soup possibility of water

and therefore for the there-for

so much more:

 

water-with-something

is water watered down,

water also the difference of soups

the key ingredient to their ingredients being key…

 

water is a bowl-floater

a boat-floater

bowls, boats

bounds, bonds

bloat-footer

footing soups

 

and the understanding is

soupy

watered –

as crystal clear as yet more soup not quite as runny as the water…

 

water-made something

makes soup

and “water” in name just as water-made

 

touching the water scoops it ladle

comes out too thick

too made-up –

Ironically, too watered down

too quick

to constitute the in-definition

of under-standing…

to show up the world

under-water…

 

the collected spoonful

and subsequent spoonfilled collections

(in fact any spoon is just another collection of spoons)

a sort of liquidity

movement

too mixed in the coming

washed up, washed out in a going

on the shores

of a gap-wide bowl-full contactability

a “watered” eroding

gardens to the flower of the im-permanent

more keys

ingredients

in a water that tells us something about everything

but not everything about something.

gaps.

soup-holders.

Silver

Softer light that takes added heat to get home:

this is a person and other people.

 

this person

these other people

or just all the people

altogether

slightly short

slightly narrow

in the light –

because

person

people

all people

are

slightly short

and slightly narrow

of the Light

are but softer lights within all the adding up

to Light;

 

of all the persons being people

having and sending light

there is not even a single person –

a person and their body

people in the body –

as star-scarred

 as the distant suns,

and of all the persons being people

knowing and receiving the light –

a populated body

a body populator –

there is really not anybody

as well-rounded as those bodies

whose intentions

will fully originate

at their own axis

 

though, often enough

as often as often is possible

without all-ways taking up the time-work of always

are people to be found

mid-constellation

having a collapse

folding in on themselves,

so dark, compact

colourlessly voided as

any solarisation

at the tail end of its fire…

 

and still, often enough

as often as often is possible

without always taking over the space-work of all-ways

are people to be seen

closed-atmosphere

orbiting one another

gravitating so near, tight

in multiplication

of risk upon risk

of collision,

apocalyptically full

of meteoric desire…

 

indeed

the people

despite literal and lateral shortcomings

and an almost literary narrow-mindedness

lights always less than Light

stars not as poised as the Sun

planetary but lacking in the self-composed

are yet to be able

to find and see themselves

more successfully distinguished than this,

…will yet be able to distinguish themselves from the fuller bodies

…bodies of enviable mass

…a little more successfully

 

this person and these people

may find and see good distinction

when recalling silver-line

their own queer ability

demonstrated time and again (and this is exactly the point)

to do such surprising things as

relight

after

burning out

whether that be by shared heat

or random combustion

and recompose

after

impact

whether so by organic reproduction

or a many-handed

tool-box

prostheticisation,

truly

here

the person in the people

the people in the person

or just all the people

distinguish themselves

surprise

as bodies

not massive

nor fully lit

nor very stable

but in a body instead souled by Repetition;

 

and furthermore this and these yet find and see themselves in distinction

good distinction – surprising

by a similarity with each mass that each mass cannot have with the other

the people resemble both stars and planets in ways that stars and planets simply cannot resemble each other

the earth cannot collapse

or burn out

the sun cannot crash

or make contact

truthfully

here

the person in the people

the people in the person

or just all the people

distinguish themselves

surprise

as bodies

again, not massive

nor all-light

nor elemental

but in a body instead souled by Resemblance;

 

the people

a distinguished soul of light within Light

an embodiment unmatched by bodies that wait wasting the same until expiration

bodies circumscribed by forces

on legs without imagination

this person and these people, instead

by short-falling and narrow-eyedness

can find and see themselves

using and reusing

and – by accident of that difference – refusing

everything

in so many ways that never will it be so massively exhausted

before their own softer light has been divided into oblivion –

until their bodies phosphorescent are no longer adding heat to one another –

which is to say, finally, and yet most primordially,

this person

these people

in a body souled by Emergence.

Two adventures and a return

  1. Climbing

Climb a wall to bring it down

The brickwork mosaic as set as blood

Coursing through the tunnels of time

Beneath the spaces that are not there of the space that makes them disappear

Where even fragmentation must settle with an occupying sense –

The bricks put-together

The wall taking space apart –

Underall, the holding up of a name

The evident multiplication of its every meaning

And the midnight engraving of its life;

All tombstones are misleading

Grounded on a yearly misspelling.

This is the functional.

 

Climb that wall to turn it upside down

Dream time over from top to bottom

Of something more than familiar

A feeling as extended as the shadow of everything

Shadows as felt as the extendedness of everything

Behind the distances that are not there of the distance that makes them disappear

Sharing the invisible

Meting out the greatest loss of all –

The loss of excuses –

Until it is met

The place where everyone has lived;

All divisions are deceiving

Bounded by lesser story-telling.

This is the funktional.

 

 

  1. Falling

Time,

the anti-clock

worker,

does not stop

but now and then

now to then

dries out

and renews

in waves

does a convergence

back

on the sand

again

continentalising

refertilising

steadying

for a paste of the world

still granular

but stiller

in the iller tempers of the wind[1]

refreshingly ingrained with

the bit-by-bit humility

of finite humidity

fuller

that is, di-stilled

from the sands sunned beyond the touch of the water

this part shingled, mountable

humanised

that one singled, insurmountable

solarised

in contrast

all of it

now

neither here nor there

a

sandcastle possibility

of Empire impossible,

the desert of the Real

either-ended by

latitudes

of

death

a bridge across

into the really Real

everything, undivided

history, “zombies” included

double-crosses itself

drawing on its own breath

rehearses no real death

collapses into abridgement

fallen back sundried against the finitude of reach

arms wide enough

would not be arms

more seaside sitting upon the limits of the embeached,

now, even where sight-and-site alignments find continent lines,

a little more sunbathed, fade into

more or less

beach instead,

not terra firma

not 1

but 1.1

dividing within its own insufficient number

the void ahead

non-sequitur of neither here

 nor there

really avoids coming from anywhere

and is

just how nothing could ever transgress.

 

*

Freedom comes

by per-mission

upon the flattened-by-erosion back of a coast-all some-thing

that now, grain-by-grain hourglass time-lining

never quite was

and never quite will.

 

  1. Standing

We come in waves and build according to

the sort of isolation

we want to feel

because exempli non-gratis

is the feeling of us

feeling more than ourselves

but nowhere near as often

as we are left with feelings of ourselves alone.

The isolationism of, which

either way must have its way with us

blowing a-way through us

whether

from across the slippery distance of a reveal-all Origin

or the next-door

non-place

of some catch-all End;

but neither of these two anywhere fully met

except half-way met

misinforming each other –

the only viable path of one-or-the-other any-way

and no True loneliness –

mix as

fudgy as

the summed-up difference of their encounter

sea blue with charcoal hints

is us

walking the tight rope

of our washed up

and so far, unwashed

mean-time.

 

[1] Time from another direction?
anti-clock, & non-linear
turner

two-in-one two

the difference between

resignation

and re-signation

 

or between

a performative rejection

and an even-ing acceptance

 

is the same as that

which lies between

truth-and-lies and the truth of the lie:

the lie of the truth;

 

such as the difference between

being so committed to identity as

to fall with it wherever it falls

and hyphenating the possibility of different commitments,

leaping over gaps;

 

between

It

and the re-main-ing;

 

between

an empire

and a world;

 

it is the difference of

saying yes to No

and no to Yes;

 

between

certainty

and un-certainty.

 

differences that change nothing

except everything,

of course

 

where it might be accepted that both

everything and nothing share too much

to be said as

one-thing-or-the-other

 

 

Ossídio Reading and Thinking on Youtube

two-in-one

So much time is wrapped up

in the present

that scarcely must there be

time for anything else

 

which makes the present foremost

in time

likely the very meaning of

time, itself;

 

with time unwrapped through

this meaning

and the present thus

the in-between

 

the unwrapping, in its over time difference,

makes time timely

distinguishes times and so over all

shows time happening;

 

but the difference of

a present in one wrapping

and not another, cannot but itself

be wrapped up in time, too

 

all these difference of time, timely,

to be unwrapped, must be so in the in

between; sharing no time

outside of time

 

to present perhaps that: time

is actually wrapped up

in something both greater than

and yet temporally limited to

 

Meaning.

 

 

 

In Our Time (a trans-modern epic)

One thing that is a thing

not something else

whilst there are other things

to be itself

and not something else

must be of a space

and a time

to the denial of other things

in that same space

at that same time.

 

In an existential sense

all things deny one another.

 

Where space and time

not only account for

 the division of things

But are themselves

always re-counted by

the shape of this di-vision:

 

Had there ever been enough space

for all things to be

there would be no space needed

for time

for time is

space

many times over.

 

With enough space for everything

everything would have been still.

 

Likewise

had there been enough time

for all things to be

there would be no time needed

for space

for space is

time

over many places.

 

With enough time for everything

everything would have been in a straight line.

 

In a physical sense, therefore

all things

cannot exist

at once.

 

Space is made relative

by time

and time by space;

existence in a particular space

changes according to time

and at a particular time

according to space;

a space in time denies other times

a time in space denies other spaces,

because Existence that can never be all at once

could only be

at every point

signs

of its own self-denial.

 

So, in a meaningful sense

all things exist in denial of Existence:

 

And yet, and still

as straightforwardly

as would be possible

this is perhaps the trans-mission

of the incontrovertible signal

affirmation

of Existence,

   overall.

When it is time for it

There is an occasional point of growth where the forward-looking repetition of being catches itself aware of its own dynamic process and brings that gaze and concentration, full of desire, back from that which sits just in front of it, its next move, and turns it in on itself, ignoring time hence for now to examine time up to now, searching itself, ultimately studying its own limits through those very limits. And what better way could a movement with such a clear sense of direction be forestalled, be so definitively caught up, than falling into this kind of self-recession, inducing a loop circumscribed by a thing in its fullest capacity trying to under-stand itself, its fullest capacity? And when this does happen, how exactly does a thing of growth find its way back out? How does it escape itself and move forward out towards a future again which is not interrupted by a language of self-realisation being constantly surpassed by the always-as-yet unspoken capacity of each of its latest pronouncements? It does not stop growing within this trap, a fact which same-time ultimately enlarges the trap, keeping the ever-growing thing stuck within a permanently dissatisfied internal movement, beyond the structure of total grasping. Which is not to say that failure could not also exist externally – it certainly does; only that failure in that outer-body context always finds somewhere else to go, the next move to try, whereas “failure trying to define itself” seems to find it very difficult, and might in fact never through itself be able, to move abroad.

Be-ing or The Loop

Had there already

When the start

not company, but wet

Revived what never had:

 

Then, what was

Was to become

what nothing had

to become what would not have;

 

What “there” was, was no longer

But to be what would be

if still to be,

So became, becoming;

 

What had, was now longer

Be-ing both less and more,

everything in the becoming

Where all was, became, terrified by itself.

 

Ossídio Gaspar reading on Youtube

About the meaning of tolerance

there have been many now

led in error

who have confused commitment to principle

with indiscriminate universality

claiming that to uphold a principle like tolerance

is to make an infinite invitation

free of judgement and discord

to all things, irrespective of their own nature and conduct

whether or not they, themselves, equal purveyors of the same conditions

which hath “tolerantly” invited them forth.

However, if sheer openness were a meaningful and satisfactory form of commitment here

surely the principle of tolerance would itself not meaningfully have to exist

for the claim is that, everything left as it is, there is, all in all, nothing capable of undermining it.

But a principle –

when it is a principle –

does not exist for reasons merely as qualified

as those that would promote its inexistence,

nor is a commitment to it the same as belief

without the accompaniment of appropriate action.

In fact, a principle is a principle if and only if its ends do not yet fully exist

and the bringing about of that existence

which is the principle of all principles

is neither a matter of indifference nor divorce.

Tolerance will never properly pullulate

if not as determined to identify the opposites which threaten it

as it is to drafting the most eclectic invitation possible;

indeed, all considered, are these two determinations not one and the same?

More than a simple attitude,

Tolerance is a commitment

like all commitments

whose strength of conviction must be matched by that of its work

and which, precisely in this, cannot but help

always-dangerously, veering into paradox

whilst taking all the care possible not to come into violation

of its own principle.

That is, the paradox of opening and closure:

for things to be generally open

some possibilities have to be particularly “closed”.

Yet, not being tolerant of intolerance –

contrary to the expectations of those erroneous –

is not the same as intolerance itself

whereas intolerance does not want to know

tolerance needs to know the intolerant, most of all

and this is really the crux of its work:

where intolerance does not want to meet

tolerance must build towards every meeting

and where the former is the general outcome of “accidental” occlusion

the latter should be so attentive as to avoid any such thing.

And the full complexity of what this involves:

not to become intolerant

but neither tolerating intolerance in itself

so, not just readjusting the parameters of inclusion

but indefinitely working towards their obsolescence, altogether

without renewed resorts to exclusion

without ever needing to write another invitation as such.

In all of this, it is easy to see whence the errors on these matters stem

for the vision required for a project of tolerance comes hard

and still unclear whether its end, beyond paradox, ultimately works

but certainly never brought nearer, sooner,

if this confusion between

an attitude of distance

and an actual ethic of condition-setting

is not formally resolved

(yes, sometimes, tolerance must mean abstention, passivity

but even that would be embedded in a deeper activity overall:

an endless encounter with the question of invitation

whose problematic contours must be confronted again and again).

And so, to briefly take one step back from the deficit of answers,

if only for the possible introduction of this whole thing

raising the advent of its full size to greater awareness

then just in that, in deliverance of sight of vision itself

(because the struggle for tolerance is

in many ways

the challenge of learning how “to accept” the unknown)

are the conditions already much better established

towards the welcoming of that time when, yes, finally,

so naturalised

tolerance need not be a principle at all,

but it is not yet

now is the time to (re)discover the means to this end.

 

Ossídio reading poetry on Youtube