Saturday, August 3, 2013
toward art and simple wonder
Philosophy, as a world-grasping and world-ordering milieu, eventually gives way to deep music, unusual poetry, and the mapless condition of dream. Thought, given enough time, gradually releases itself from the brain's algorithmic, relational neurosis and begins to feel its way toward and into the abyss behind symbols, which is the mystical (or whatever).
I'm tired, and I'm babbling like a drunken platypus.
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I doubt a drunken platypus would be able to comment so coherently or to assess its state of sobriety.
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