And fire there was. But are we to ‘believe’ the ‘fire’ of what we sense and name, the ratio underneath that? Or the ramblings of a ‘madman’, about the truth of what cannot be ‘true’?
One poet to(ward) (his / an)other. Separate as big a gaping,
massive unendur ability, sense before sound, truth and pre
sen(c/s)e ‘before’ the hidden, secretive, secreting, secret.
Society has not chosen sides. But sellers of hot air have
their branding to worry about.
Both ‘fall’ t(w)o sides, u/on’turned’. But purveyors of hot air have
their perversions to worry about.
****
Aren’t all Narratives about truth? The truth of the author’s (or the support(ees) of the author(itie/’)s(‘)) truth. The jouer and sportif. So selling what you’re/their selling’s saying. We perveyrt nonsense and
don’t we hard-sell that as some truth? or sort of relativist u/dystopia?
Next to nothing. If matter where energy, would there be need of ‘void’, and is movement but a illusion of fi/ragmented taking-in, the energetics lost on perception/reception them/itself/ves?
Verst a Fiarag! Ument.
So a more-or-less self consistent ‘world’ [the scare quotes might be totally unneces(c/s)ary, this may just, w/could an argu-line-of-thought-lineated-anything-u-might-ment do justice to be, that this what a world is, this selling of as much containment and maintenance in the ‘clearing authenticity of being’] thrust out, salable, salivating meant part(s) first.
(So odd, this form was lost by most pop music relatively early into mass (re)production, the evocative and singular intro, now given over to relatively self-same drum/whispering-into-microphone… there are of course as many exceptions as not…)
And aren’t there only two ways (to die cf. M. Serres) to sell hot air? To flatter, and the more insidious; the flattery of pretending you and I are the only ones who know. That is understand, or is it comprehend?
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