Never Good With Numbers – 24 May 2013 – Friday Fictioneers

knee-jerk response trying to coax the writing machine within, thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and Friday Fictioneers community

Copyright - Danny Bowman

I was never good with numbers.

I meant, I intended, I felt the pressing need to say, to clarify.  But I was never good with numbers.  At least to specify, remonstrate, apologize, perhaps even to confess.  Certainly profess, express remorse, plead a little, cry.  I wanted you to know.  So many things.  How you struck me, thudded through, infiltrated, saturated, overwhelmed.  How I craved and believed.  What I dreamt.

But I was never good with numbers.

 

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Henry Magazine

Greetings all – thanks to the continuous hard work of Lisa Thatcher et. al., the experimental literary-aesthetic new magazine Henry is live!  I’m excited about this project, not only because Thatcher’s own work and interests are so astute and lively, but the principle of the thing and the open energy of the legacy of Henry Miller.  I invite you all to check it out (helps if you are able to read French), and you will also find a piece of creative writing by myself within.  Thanks Lisa & co., thanks Henry for verve and example, thanks writers and readers – it manifests!

a link to my piece on The Whole Hurly Burly

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The Return

Within the hallowed halls of Powell’s Books in Portland, OR with a next-to-nothing budget is not an easy thing to be for book-cravers.  But it also picques the selectional impulse somewhere thrumming in our genetic bands.  Survival of the “fittest” given current conditions and some self-observation through excruciating choice.

What came back with me:

what did not , purely due to economic constraints, and set aside at the last possible moment (at closing):

equivalency finds for my wife:

mary frank Richter - Lines

now to prepare pictures of those immaterial experiences – the fleeting profounds – that happen as we go

to be posted soon

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Accompanying me home

“For my father, the road had to wind uphill both ways and be as difficult as possible.  Sadly, this was the sensibility he instilled in me when I set myself to the task of writing fiction.  It wasn’t until I brought him a story that was purposely confusing and obfuscating that he seemed at all impressed and pleased.  He said, smiling, “You made me work, son.”  He once said to me in a museum, when I complained about an illegible signature on a painting, “You don’t sign it because you want people to know you painted it, but because you love it.”  He was all wrong of course, but the sentiment was so beautiful that I wish to believe it now.  What he might have been trying to say, I suppose, thought he never would have even thought about it in these terms, was that art finds its form and that it is never a mere manifestation of life.”

-Percival Everett-

compliments of:

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“Acquiring an open rationality”

The best that I can do on this trip is to share some of the inputs coming my way… aside from the gorgeous lush thick greens of Oregon and Washington, there are also these gorgeous, lush, thick growths…

Edgar Morin – Paradigm of Complexity

Le Moigne – Intelligence of Complexity

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Excursion

we’re heading off to visit children and family in the Pac-NW for a week +…not sure how often I’ll “get back again” to ze blog, but aside from my amazing wife, I’m taking these….

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Happy Trails….

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The Joy of Incompleteness

“By Godel’s theorem the following statement is generally meant:

  • In any formal system adequate for number theory there exists and undecidable formula – that is, a formula that is not provable and whose negation is not provable
  • A corollary to the theorem is that the consistency of a formal system adequate for number theory cannot be proved within the system”

-Rebecca Goldstein-

“…there can be neither a first nor a last meaning; [anything that can be understood] always exists among other meanings as a link in the chain of meaning, which in its totality is the only thing that can be real.  In historical life this chain continues infinitely, and therefore each individual link in it is renewed again and again, as though it were being reborn…”

-M.M. Bakhtin-

“And so the world is interior to our mind, which is inside the world.  Subject and object in this process are constitutive of each other.  This doesn’t lead to a unifying and harmonious vision; we can’t escape from a generalized principle of uncertainty.  In the same way that as in microphysics, the observer disturbs the object, which disturbs the perception, in the same way the notions of object and subject are profoundly disturbed each by the other: each opens a crack in the other.  There is, we will see, a fundamental, ontological, uncertainty in the relation between the subject and the environment…a new conception emerges both from the complex relation between the subject and the object, and the insufficient and incomplete character of the two notions.  The subject must remain open, deprived of all decidability in itself; the object itself must remain open toward the subject and toward its environment, which, in turn, necessarily opens and continues to open beyond the limits of our understanding…

All this incites us toward an open epistemology…Epistemology is not pontifical nor judiciary.  It is the place of both uncertainty and dialogics.  In fact, all the uncertainties we have raised must confront and correct each another; there must be dialogue, without, however, hoping to stop the ultimate crack with an ideological Band-Aid.

“If this gap is recognized, then the gap becomes an opening of one toward the other, opening toward the world, opening toward a possible surmounting of the either/or alternative, toward a possible progress of knowledge…”

-Edgar Morin-

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The Argument Tunnel / A Chaos Tube

            From non-computational directions we arrive.

We may enter unaware or gingerly, with good and caring intentions.  We might have plans to rush right through – eyes cinched, hands clenched, heart throbbing – with risk and fear in angry justice or righteous defense.  We often stumble in.  We get tripped up.  It is possible we are shoved.  Sometimes we charge.

However we get there – within all that dark and churning – disorientation accompanies our arrival.  This temporal funnel – a passage where noise wins the day, interference scrambles messages, things fall apart and the center will not hold – renders us untethered, at loose ends – the chaos tube.

Occasionally we may notice our derailment as our words and thoughts cease mating, time travel whisks us to and fro ‘twixt past and present and some unknown yet desperately predictable future, full of echoey recalls, details smeared and marred, yet panic and terror renowned.  Feelings turn to Emotion – symbolic, iconic, religious.  We find ourselves grasping, delirious, snatching at this phrase and that, yowling or yelling, whimpering and weeping or delivering laws, lecturing truth.

Caught in the Argument Tunnel.  There’s a beginning and end, but they’re tricky, elusive and vague, and no matter.  Socially constructed – this moving event, experimental device – of a limiting duration.  At what point is haywire?  Do body and mind turn ape shit?  Humanity parenthetically undone?  What triggers, pressure, stress compress an organism toward self-destruction – deconstructive discombobulating dislocation?  Unhinged and multi-piloted, the divagations of entropy?

Wind tunnel, spin cycle, a sequencing coming apart at the seams, gyrating out of control, baffled and frazzled by fuzzy and unsolving sets – irrotational vortices of turbulent flow.

Spitting us unknown and misrepresented out the other side.  Episodic psychoses, neuroses, and unity.  Draining extremes, pushed through the wringer, all flushed and muddied – it’s blood and guts, a birth canal, an orifice, survival.

Of limiting duration.  A tunnel, a tubing, a way.

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