New Stories to counter the Thaumaturgy of Destruction

…every malign spell has a lie at the heart of it, and if you can expose the lie in a way that the person under the spell can see and understand, the lie dissolves and takes the spell with it. It’s like the old claim that a demon can never change itself wholly out of demonic form: there’s always a hoof or a claw or something, and if you can train yourself to notice that, the illusion fails.

John Michael Greer

We need stories that expose the epic lies behind the Thaumaturgy of Destruction.

We need stories that imagine spaces where we may act and leave these lies behind.

There have been stories reaching after one or the other. How about both together?

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From Chaos and Cry

Antonio Dias:

A compelling post from Desperado Philosophy looks at the question of poetic language and poetry’s place in our day.

Originally posted on Desperado Philosophy:

This past week, we have been mulling a question asked way back in the 1970s by Hans-Georg Gadamer, a question that still hangs heavily in the air above our heads all these years later: Are the Poets Falling Silent? With Gadamer, each word always carries its own complex ring; the meanings of “falling” and “silent” are not what they first appear to be.

Below, we share excerpts from a text that is rather difficult to find online, yet one that would enliven the library of anyone who seeks inspiration within that vivid liminal zone where poetry and philosophy become one breathing creature.  The poem, closely read by Gadamer within the essay, is from the pen of Gottfried Benn.


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Beyond Judgments and Opinions…

We all have opinions. We all make judgments. None of us is satisfied….

What if these are connected?

I’ve long felt a hankering for getting beyond opinions. It’s easy to see this as a form of striving after certainty. We see opinion, as it relates to truth, as a negotiation with authority. Whoever has authority can be certain. Their opinions are not simply opinions. Their preferences become law.

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Reaching after whatever strands of connection may pass though this virtual medium’s cables; we are reminded, yet again, just how limited it all is. The promise of instant, frictionless connectivity across any distance in the blink of an eye looks thinner and thinner with each passing day. Some wonderful connections have been made this way; but even these hang-fire when we consider what they could be if transferred to the realm of the tangible….

The virtual is locked in means-to-an-end rationalizations. Anchored in the Realm of Negotiation. It’s not just the prevailing business-model. Everything that keeps the lights on and the servers humming, the click-bait, Spam, porn….

It’s disappointing; but the thinness of it all should not be surprising. Not much gets through. The math is simple. Each moment does not last forever, but it is infinite. No matter how we choose to define an interval it can always be cut finer. There’s no sign of a limit other than our own capacity to take it all in. As we scan and our focus falls on whatever holds our attention everything else continues to pour in at the periphery. At any time the center of our attention can shift, and shift radically, and shift again. Everything is available to us from the chill off the fleeting shadow of a passing cloud to the slightest, but most telling, change in expression seen in a lover’s eye.

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A Gathering

“The more you walk this road, the farther you are from the ordinary ways of society.
You may see the truth, but you will find that people would rather listen to politicians, performers, and charlatans.”
-Deng Ming-Dao


I’m struck by the difficulty we have sticking to the basics. Continually struck by our insistence on increasing complication at the expense of living with complexity. We spin-out plans and tune the details of our elaborate procedures, remaining deaf and blind to the lack of any vital foundations for our actions and intentions, our expectations.

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