square white world

“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

– the Gospel of Thomas, quoted in Nick Tosches, In The Hand of Dante, Little, Brown and Co., 2003, p. 105

Jacopo was a poet and a lawyer: a dangerous combination. And Dante, lest we forget, was but a man – a man who throughout his marriage to Jacopo’s mother, and throughout Jacopo’s own childhood, adolescence, and young manhood, went publicly about pulling his poetic prick and moaning like a ricchione over some dead twat he never even knew.

– Ibid., p. 366

There are those whom I love and who dwell within me. Some of them I have abandoned long ago. Others long ago have abandoned me. Yet they dwell in the love within me.

There are others, whom I never have abandoned, and who never have abandoned me.

For so long, the souls of others sustained me as much as my own soul did.

God, how I long now for them.

I must have them know that I breathe. I must allow them the knowledge that we still breathe together, apart as we may be. I can not let them know this only when I bring them to me to celebrate that befalling thing.

God, how I am blessed to have Giulietta, whose breath I can feel upon my skin and in my soul, and upon whose skin and into whose sweet soul I can breathe.

As for the rest of you, neither I nor those who dwell in the love within me desire or would abide your company. To you who in your fear, your stupidity, your jealousy, darkened the path of my previous life as you desecrated your own – and you know who you are – may your true death precede mine, as did the death of your souls.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

– Ibid., pp. 369-370

Because of this, originality consists of returning to the original.

– Antoni Gaudi

Writing is nature’s way of letting you know how sloppy your thinking is.

– Dick Guindon

the material continua, the threads and the strings that make up the universe are darkly and irregularly entangled.,

at the beginning, the entanglement was so extreme as to confine time and space to a point, a singularity.

in the first fraction of incipient time the irregularity of this singular entanglement gave and matter burst out from it, still entangled, dragging knots of substances and energies, energetic knots, knots that were and are darkly energetic, in multiple directions in a chaotic and far from regular explosion.

the almost conceivable order and self-consistency of the primary point broke . The force of the blast never can be equalled that was able to sunder entanglement, destroy its order, its one, and create multiple chaos.

lines, strands and threads, snagged and snapped and joined others they were not matched with and at every new entanglement, an energetic sink, a slowing down of the outward whorl, a dark counterpoint, minor in its way, but enough to explain the remarkable darkness of causation.

at the beginning, for a fraction of an instant, in the first seed of time, there was a mere irregularity and chaos of entanglement. The detonation was never a disentanglement but a forceful tearing apart as the singular order gave way.

strings and continua loosed in that instant abraded on others, ran over and through them, even when they did not get caught, leaving lower level snags and knots spinning into a greater and greater infinity but slowing down because of them.

the darkness of tangled continua choked the acceleration of a tangled matter.

spin and wobble, crazy movement – the crazed music of the entanglement, with its still and distantly entrained harmonies trailing out in disjoint chords, with never a unison, lonely notes sounding now on this side of things now light years distant.

the dark force of the primitive entanglement surrendered to the destruction of creation, a destruction never total and unable to be totalled, since from it follow an endless ramifying series of further entrainments and tanglings. This creation continues, weaving at random dark knots that bear the legacy of their genesis in a dark heap of tangled matter, no substance but this matting and dread.

and this slowing down as entrainments stall the quanta with frictions remembered, enacted instantaneously, at infinite distance, mixtures of times and matters, catachronic, asymmetrical, as if entanglement were the ongoing fact of a universal and differential iteration.

MEGA

We can use any information we have about you as a customer relating to your creditworthiness and give that information to any other person for credit assessment and debt collection purposes.

This anonymity aspect is somewhat of a missed opportunity.

– from here

The French agencement is sometimes Englished as agency, sometimes assemblage. I think, to comment on Levi Bryant’s remarks on agency, that agency not only belongs to the machinic phylum but that agency assembles. It connects and is connective. Agency is less material than tissue.