In the Beginning Was Strange to think I am the universe and everything in it too. I call out. No voice returns other than my echo. So evidently, I am my own cause and, worse, horribly alone. Bored, I fall into a deep sleep and dream of many things: wave-like particles in plasma; diverse organisms, vertebrates and invertebrates; metals and gases; all kinds of finite bodies with perishable qualities, competing for succession and place and rank. Time passed and, with time, entro

Selected Fragments Tool-use If the hammer is a symbol Of the power of the hand, The hand is the product Of the need for a hammer. Horizon...

OVERVIEW: ● The pantheist ontology of Baruch Spinoza (b.1632 – d.1677) is an attempt to deny the accountability of political evil. ●...

We see the visible world as somehow inevitable, with all its ratios of movement & rest, its manifold shapes & ecstatic forms, not realising that nature is always busy, acting unseen in all its power, without external cause, producing within itself its own effects, differentiating this idea from that idea, bypassing one potential in favour of another, & making actual a particular mode of being (a mutation, a thing, a body, a colour), while keeping other potentials, other singu

What is amazing is not that my corpse was contracted and compressed into the earth’s dark matter (while my grave went unmarked and...

Thought Putting aside the extensive facthood of properties and things distributed in space, one has to wonder whether existence’s sense...

The world is folded in to every object And each thing or idea is the folding And unfolding of space, time and history. And the atom is...

Fichte / Picture There is nothing real anywhere, neither outside of us nor in us. I know of no being at all. Not even myself. Images...

objects are luminous: their light appears on the intellect’s horizontal plane (the boundary between knower and known).

Bergson Memory is a cloud wherever my body is; A fog of the virtual enveloping the actual. The past contracts to the present at the...

[ Disguised .] Yes, it is I. In I come, out I go. Yes, I am it. It writes. I will write a supplication. Here. Now. As follows. And in...

Descartes' Dream I was a lonely cripple Seeking shelter; I heard thunder, saw fire. Sleeping too much, Snow on the rise. My bones warm...

Discourse in the Garden: A Short Drama An olive grove. Night. The sound of approaching footsteps. SOCRATES: ‘Swounds! A dark day for strong flowers and cool breezes. Can you deny it? PLATO: Are you spreching to me, sir? SOCRATES: I am, almost certainly. [Sits beside PLATO.] Call me I am. PLATO: Ha! Welcome. Call me anything you like. I’ll deny it later. SOCRATES: Ho! I’ve only lived the one life. Where next? Should I go on? PLATO: Always going on. Even when you’re half dead.

Artful Agaze, the artist is beset by eros Of no vulgar kind. Crossing the chorismos , He takes his tools, kneads and forms And sculpts.   Substance yields to some thing new. But partially obscured by dark spots, The result is more product Than idea.

Simulation (Through the Looking Glass) “Observe this fagged-out world, this patch of chemical scum, where things – people, cats, tables,...

Apeiron beginning; ur-reality: eternal, infinite, boundless, indefinite; yielding every thing through the actions of opposites:...

The soul occupies a doorless room on the upper floor of this house. Five senses – Five windows – Enter the light, wind trafficking sound...

A cell where everything happens on the inside, an inside without an outside.   Only when there are objects is there space on the inside....

Circling We move in circles around each other, encircled and encompassing, each turn driven in part by our own will to move and be...

To Spinoza nomads we traverse a flat shimmering world breeding images. signs & erratic/ erotic encounters; surfaces effacing...