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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9 thoughts on “The Argument Tunnel / A Chaos Tube

"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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