Conclusion regarding Reason and Intuition
We always lose track of any logic that serves no purpose,
invariably confronted with the Sinking House, because the part of our minds
that is concerned with Reason (The Directed) has become disconnected from the
part that is concerned with Meaning and Purpose (The non-directed).
We can build a house on dry land, and our confidence in this
venture becomes our Sanity.
The moment that we try this enterprise over a swamp, a mire
without meaning, a foundation without substance, that Sanity is a ghost. Sanity
entails that logic be abandoned. Our maps have nothing to do with our
territory, and a miscalculation is equal to a calculation*. All thought of a
proper calculation disappears when all calculations become miscalculations. The
numbers we use to count things begin to refer to nothing at all related to the
material world, and, as entities of abstraction devoid of meaning, they all
become equal to zero. The maps we draw degenerate into scrawls not as
indicative of any substantial, noteworthy ugliness. Their ugliness is merely
the ugliness of a confused mind.
Our thoughts become this mire, and any sense of Reason is a
passing wavelet. Any attempt to construct Reason finds us holding a handful of
quicksand seeping from betwixt our fingertips to dissolve again into a surface
that remains, on the whole, flat, only interrupted by a momentary Hope.
We admit to this futility and exit the marsh before we are
consumed. We build our house on an unprecedented terrain, prepared to accept
what the Divine Will that beats our hearts offers next as Sanity.
*This phrase, I am aware, appears absurd. It would make
sense if I were to say that “a miscalculation is equal to a proper calculation.
Yet this presupposes that a proper calculation could exist. The closest thing
in our grammatical common sense to what I am trying to say would be “a
calculation equals a miscalculation” or “every calculation is a miscalculation.”
Yet should I have written it thus, the aesthetic I am trying to render would be
missed.
Dm.A.A.
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