Therefore my experience in 2-3-74 now that it has been followed by a successful exegesis --and only in the last two weeks has it become successful-- pays off in the way that I perceive ordinary daily reality. I cannot bring back the absolute vision of the morphologically arranged realm that I had in 2-74, the anamnesis; but I now can apprehend this realm from the standpoint of the realm #3 reality; I can see in the epiphenomenal realm the constants shining through... and this is the triumph in practice of Platonist metaphysics, its whole point: that you learn to see in the flux realm the constants, literally see them with the educated eye, educated by Plato's metaphysics of the Forms. If one theorized about a self-replicating system which could reproduce itself forever with no signal/information loss, one would say, "This is impossible. There would have to be some entropic factor, some deterioration of signal; it logically impossible that the system could reproduce itself forever with no loss whatsoever." And yet that is the case. In fact, as we know from the Theory of Evolution, it is actually possible to improve the instances of each species, either by minute increments or by quantum leaps. Logically, this would seem to be impossible, and yet it is so. But the real success of the exegesis is that as I become old, now, and wear out, I feel myself wearing out only as an instance of an eternal Soul or Form; that nothing is lost, nothing is destroyed; and although I don't crave immortality I do crave vigor and joy and the running that I associate with my eidos. And I know, too, that all that I have lost in my life is epiphenomenal, people and cats and things, that in reality nothing is lost. So I can face my own aging and mortality with calm and even pleasure, since I am grounded in both a mystical vision of super-reality and an intellectual exegesis based on that vision, the totality of which provides me with a philosophy and with an experience with world that is harmonious and wonderful and intellectually satisfying: it is a vision of intactness, of my own self and world. Of everything as a negentropic whole. As regards my writing: it will permanently affect the macrometasomakosmos in the form of reticulation and arborizing --and hence will survive in reality forever, in the underlying structure of the world order.
This is the surd I am left with after completing the metaphysical system of my exegesis: a surd. There is what the AI voice called "A perturbation in the reality field." This is Valis; this is the most important part. Originally I spoke of it as a valence away from plumb. Now I think of it as a tugging, like the moon's effect on Earth's oceans creating, by tugging, the tides. I say, The reality field is not real but the tug is. But what the tug points to --that is, what is doing the tugging-- I have no idea. I know of it only by its effects on reality, its setting up an irregularity in reality, in the field, the way reality, the field, behaves. It is being affected from outside --outside reality. This surd (something irrational that can't be explained after everything that is rational has been) may stick with me. So I may wind up with something like quantum mechanics faces. In fact it may be an event in quantum mechanics, like something related to the Tao. I don't know. And this is what I wanted the most to explain. And this tug is right here and now, in the very trash stratum of reality. I have set out in pursuit of ontology, rising from level to level, only to go full circle and come back where I started: pop tunes on the radio, weeds in the alley... and the faint flurry of a kind of breath, as if some invisible spirit, perhaps the ruah, is breathing creation into existence ex nihilo. Yes, I am on the rim of reality; level after level each one more ontologically real than the previous, and then nothingness. The void. Only a faint wind stirring reality, tugging at it. And maybe a glint of color, briefly. And a word or two as set to ground. Six and a half years of work: a glint, a rustle in the weeds of the alley; I am confronted by unfathomable mystery, as if I saw cosmogenesis reversed: cosmic resorption, until at last creation ceased to be, and only the Spirit moved across the face of the void. And, equally real and equally enigmatic, a small murmuring voice speaking in the night, as if from immeasurable distances away. I have found the ultimate Source: a rustle of wind in the weeds and faint, distant words by a lovely voice that is neither male nor female. Both bordering on the rim of not being there but being, I am convinced, the truly real; in contrast to the great substantial world order, the galaxies and nebulae, suns and planets, civilizations and deeds.
I cannot say that I have found moksa, enlightenment. I do not understand what I saw and what happened in 2-3-74. Something helped me. Who? Oddly, although I don't know who I do know why (since the AI voice told me that). I chased after reality, and how far did I actually get? "Ti to on?" the pre-Socratics asked. Perhaps it is the wrong question. An odd thought came to me. I end my exegesis with something --what I call a surd because that is what it is-- that can't be fitted into an otherwise satisfactory system. This one thing is simple. No elaboration of it seems possible, no implications extracted and elaborated. It makes me think of Dante's semplice lume. And my exploded morphological structure reminds me of Dante's description of God as the Book of the Universe whose pages are scattered throughout the universe. I beheld leaves within the unfathomed blaze Into one volume bound by love, the same That the universe holds scattered through its maze. Substance and accidents and their modes became As if together fused, all in such wise That what I speak of is one simple flame.
About all I can see clearly is that 3-74 was a heroic act that consisted of the overcoming of fate. "We can be heroes for just one day," to quote Bowie. It all has to do with waking up long enough to perform one action, to make one change, before you sink back down into sleep, before you again forget. One change (in the programming?) is enough; it is decisive. Where are we? Is this like UBIK or MAZE or STIGMATA? The AI voice speaks from outside; we are inside. Anyhow: In my notes last night I defined the purpose underlying all religions as: freeing the person from the tyrannical rule of the world (called variously heimarmene, astral determinism, karma, fate, DNA programming, the planetary powers and the Law). What possibly, then, could serve this purpose better than Plato's anamnesis, in which the reality of the universals (eide) is realized, and the mere seeming of the spatiotemporal world, it being only accidents. This realization achieved through anamnesis only --it can come in no other way by no other means--permits the heroic deed described above,
in fact it is not dualism at all since the dualism - the dialectic - is an instrument [Note] of an absolute above + beyond it. Would this not also rule out Gnosticism as being a dualism? Like Zoroastrianism it posits the dualism as ultimate. This leaves Taoism + the strife of Yin + Yang. One of my big breakthroughs was to identify an equilibrium above the strife, + this is expressed in the tractate: "One mind there is, but under it two principles contend" - light + dark, which would be Yin + Yang.
[Note] "An instrument". Then the equilibrium above it is not just a "secret partnership"; it makes use of the dialectic to produce change by which to bring into being (existence) new things (elements) that can be fitted into the macrometasomakosmos which only grows more + more complex - i.e. completed through progressive reticulation + arborizing. This is not precisely Taoism, but it is close to it; but it is also close to Neo-Platonism (the Form World). Again: I seem to have an original system based on (1) my revelation + experience of 2-3-74; + (2) my successful exegesis, in particular my identifying a meta-abstraction based on anamnesis, by which a morphologically arranged world can be seen as the truly real one (which is overt Platonism + not Taoism). So I have a synchretism that
Is this the real Gnostic secret? "Break a stick, lift a rock, + there am I [Christ]."? The real world, the sacred world, is invisibly exploded in our irreal world right here. This is why I had the surd left over in my exegesis. The final mystery had not been explained, that of the theophany itself, Valis. Turn the profane (+ irreal) world inside out + you get God. "I define God as world [i.e. reality] under the threat of death." Seen as we see it (i.e. world) it is both irreal + mundane (profane, trash). Reverse it topologically + you get - well, ultimately it is God. But not exactly world is God but an irreal world is a smokescreen - in itself unreal - concealing God who is real. The process that ends up in your finding God is a series of reversals. An epistemological labyrinth. "The workman is invisible within the workshop." "God is as close to you as your neckvein." Sufism?
In sequence: 1) All value signs reversed 2) World as irreal. (the spatiotemporal) 3) Morphologically arranged world not in time + space. 4) God.
Like cosmogony running backward. Well, yes; time, too is reversed.
1) First flipflop y to y
2) Then y to -y, which is not y !
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Pages that refer to Exegesis:
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