Your web page, revolution.

[Glenn Scheper]

Dear Dr. Iain Thomson:

Your page came up in a Pynchon list read of Vineland:
http://www.waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l&month=0312&msg=87623&sort=date
http://orpheus.ucsd.edu/eands/Revolution.html

I think I can bear novel fruit upon points you raise.

You see, I believe I suffered that poetic katabasis,
a moment of direct gnosis, a glimpse of transcendent
reality, which alienates me, has slain me, from you
of the simulacrum. The exposition is on my web site.
(In two words: autofellatio triggered my psychosis.)

But addressing points in your page:

This AF is all of slaying and birth, a speech act,
and naming of the new self, hence "I gave my life
in the name of something." That something, myself.

You say the martyr must be killed by an other. The
Other figured prominently in my psychotic imagery,
and subsequent meaning-assignment: I then become a
cracked pot, whose crazing is an essential part of
it's being: not as a whole vessel, but destruction
of the vessel was the significant thing I created.

Mine is the Schopenhauerian suicide (for I recognize
fellows in Nietzsche and his philosopical forbearers.)

> Is the tragic embraced and transmuted into the heroic?

Not always. A predominant outcome is languishing and
failure to survive. I am an exception and can posit
specific remedies, a second required metamorphosis.
Going into hell is no feat; Coming out again, is.

> In this giving or taking of one's life, can our
ontological debt ever be discharged?

In everyday suicide, who knows. In mine, I became
at once my own father, and slew myself, hence the
killing of my father. I transcended, no, dissolved
my ego boundary, and so, effectively, raped mother.
But, condemn my killer? I am he. Filial duties? I
am adopted into that line of alone-begotten dead,
as Jesus. If I have any duty, it is of exposition.

1. > "The spectacle's function in society is
 the concrete manufacture of alienation."

2. > When the Situationist's society of the spectacle
 hyperbolically fulfills its own logic,
 this is Baudrillard's triumph of the simulacra.

Baudrillard is of the simulacrum, no fellow.
He cannot foresee the arising of such as me;
a totem who would finally survive the taboo.

> 1. we have no relationship--to self or other--that
 isn't processed and filtered through the image.

> 2. any reappearance of this so-called real reality
 could only take place as a re-appearance of the Real,
 and thus as an appearance,
 as an event always-already situated within and thus
 imperiled by the order of the image, the simulacra.

Incorrect. This direct gnosis comes as a psychosis
and develops all its own relationships to meaning.
It is spoken by one who is before ignorant, and is
no sign that it requires subjective interpretation.

I can only acquaint you with the idea, not confer
the gnosis: I cannot reflexively autofellate you.
But afterWord, you and I will have the same name.

> 1. Dasein occupies its ontological space by bearing witness;
> 2. {?!} we are our there by bearing witness,

I recognize Dasein, a description of our fellowship.
Heidegger did not possess it. He only heard of it.
Therefore, his Dasein is not applicable to your "we".

> Baudrillard thus reads Heidegger's "retrospective nostalgia
 for Being" as though it were on a par with a nostalgic longing
 for a return of the divine.

Yes. Nothing less. Angels and prophets. Erotic and Heroic.

> ...saw as Nietzsche's fundamental metaphysical vision of
will-to-power existing in the mode of eternal recurrence.

Nietzsche had probably both the katabasis and its healing.
However, upon peeking behind the curtain, seeing internal
workings, the dissolution of hope in some non-understood,
one might mis-conclude that one has embraced everything,
and that nothing matters after all, like another partial
fellow, Aleister Crowley.

> Everywhere what has been liberated has been liberated so
 that it can enter into a state of pure circulation,

No. We are become as Kafka, whose very being is at stake;
hence bond-servants of the investigation and exposition.

> that between blinks even we last men at the end of
 history might catch the winks of the departed gods whose
 divine laughter was the instrument of their suicide--
 and, further, that we might intercept these divine winks,
 hints, traces,

Laughter: that AF speech act, shouting, ejaculation. You
read Nietsche, you read Dickinson (a frenzied bell ringing
herself!), you read Jesus. Now me. Get anything out of it?
 
Yours truly,
Glenn Scheper
http://home.earthlink.net/~glenn_scheper/
glenn_scheper + at + earthlink.net
Copyleft(!) Forward freely.