TRUTH IS FOUND IN A PISSING COW

If "Falsity" is bullshit, then "Truth" is a pissing cow.
The noun becomes the verb; the solid becomes the liquid; the male becomes the female - a perfect tripartite inversion.

As with any Divinity, so also with Man, the idea of creation itself is perceived as a point-of-origin-to-terminus linear process starting with the "creator" (or alternately, "producer") and ending with a product passed on to the distribution network, the so-called "analytic third".

This is the result of the illusory separation we feel from the rest of the world, allowing a feedlot equipment engineer busy at the drafting table to be comfortably unaware of the coal miner at a distant end of this process, himself unaware of the people murdered or displaced from the hillock under which he toils, while above ground, the construction worker climbing the cell tower need not be aware of the coltan wars which have killed millions in the Congo so that manufacturers can build their tiny capacitors so Hubby, forklift operator at the Armour plant, can confer on the selection of vegetables from the busy aisles of Buymart with Wifey waiting out in the parking lot, and she can carry on business transactions with the home office to the tunes of Hoyt Axton coming from the pickup speakers on classic-cowboy-radio channel 95, Hubby's favorite station inferioratingly interfering with her transaction, yet unable to find the "off" button on a remote she is franticly searching for in the glove box and under the power reclining bench seat which for some reason has just started tilting forward, and her connection to the office in New Jersey is still as clear as a dropping pin, but Hubby seems to have gone out of range on aisle 35, while across town, the upwardly mobile connoisseur, delicately munching on that safeway select prime rib without even the remotest sense of apology, requires a certain Scarlet O'Hara approach to the world, a convenient amnesia or aristocratic ignorance to avoid the image of the kill room floor just three miles away, with the living carcass wiggling, screaming, then thrashing above so that the last drip ka-drip ka-drip of blood is forcibly pumped out onto the floor and washed away with the rest of the murky slime, and cleat-booted sculptors in pinkish overalls are already carving on her flesh, and the new high school kid operating the cutting gate with tears camouflaged by sweat is desperately trying not to puke, fearful of the ridicule sure to come when the show is over and the crew reconvenes at the local honky-tonk.

All this talk of dialectics. At least since the sixth century, European thought has been increasingly oriented around trialectics. Even dialecticians portray reason as thesis, antithesis and synthesis. If you're not a christian, you're either a jew or a heathen (or, as organized religion has spread, a muslim – in proclaiming "the word" (logos) as "it is written", religion projects the world onto two dimensional space). Everyone has three names – any more requires hyphenation. In the states, there are three political parties (democrat, republican, and NACINTWOW – "not a chance in the world of winning" – sometimes called the third party).

There are three socio-economic classes. There is science, art & philosophy, ego, id & super-ego. It is, despite priestly proclamations, a three dimensional world. This represents intellectual progress, as it had been noted that there are always oddballs who don't seem to fit anywhere. This idea came to be known as "the category of leftovers", or "Everythingelse" – progress added gray to the previous black & white color arrangement. While it may be admitted, "there are many shades of gray", there is only one true gray, "gray par excellént".

The third part sits at the bottom either as a base or pivot, preserving balance ("goodness") to tho other two, but leaving itself open to the charge, "evil". Confusion itself has triplified contradiction so all bureacratic forms must be signed in triplicate.

Sometimes the category of leftovers has unified in the tripartite show, changing general content of attachments, but leaving the overall form alone: a pyramid projected onto two-dimensional space is an equilateral triangle no matter which corner points upward. In relations of power, places always remain the same, only the names are changed to delude the innocent. In a trialectric universe, there is always plus, minus and neutral. If trialectics makes sense in constructing a theory of socio-political change (aka "revolution"), I also have some swampland in Florida you might be interested in.Bagatella Gambadé

But the universe is not three-dimensional, we only watch it go by through 3-d glasses – two-coloured lenses we've constructed ourselves. More than three points of view, such as the good, bad & ugly, are not tolerated. Everything is connected! But that is a secret. Instead, we are offered truth: a serene but disconnected landscape visible only from the basement of an ivory tower. As Deleuze might say, "just another typically american rhizomatous multiplicity deterritorializing arborescence with a territorial crabgrassesque [herbe divan] speed, consumed for later rumination by the holy chao".

 


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