We move from the general to the specific, and back again. The process of philosophy creates a framework of thought and meticulous thought-experiments which mirrors the dialectic process of scientific discovery. This seems almost purposefully designed to prevent you from seeing the wholeness of the model
(or of reality itself for that matter.)
(let alone the reality it attempts to describe.)

Every thesis has its anti-thesis. Science tests a theory in isolation, in artificial conditions in order to verify it.
(Does then the sub-structure of culture in the city, paradigm of man’s domination and subjugation of nature, form an image of the organic world through the piercing eye of the science god? FEEDBACK-> EFFECT-> TRANSFER.)

So, what is, or should be, the correct mode of enquiry, of searching out the patterns of change, the paths of flow, of the flowering of the dialectic process of knowledge?

Follow the patterns of nature. Use organic systems, organic structures to describe the paths of flow. Abandon rigid, linear structuralism.




Molecular patterns, crystalline structures reflect the death- state, (stability/flux). The death state implies renewal and re¬birth. For in our universe nothing stands still, nothing changes.
The lattice work is a diamond facet shining so bright
Atomicity is death in motion, ‘hypostatised’, destruction/reaction (nuclear fission). Synthesis is growth (tree-paridigm- the tree carries the death pattern- it should be the other way around, the death pattern should carry innumerable trees), patterns fulfil and repeat themselves, structure is balanced by random direction and growth. Swirls, patterns of chaos, smoke drifting in a light breeze is anarchy which follows the destructive side of Shiva, where all things break up and become one in the void, the slip-side of synthesis where we let negativity surface.
Three states of reality, the reality of the mind transcended of its spatial position, input and output, it’s all the same.
Why, still, movement in motion, opposed, tracks in the mind, whisps of air- I’d rather fly than lie, abandoned, mucus dripping off my nose.
Comatose, gazing dully, lisped lipid pearly drops of air in contact, going about their daily routine. I dropped out of the air, unstructured, unsung, heroically I slashed my way through ideas, realms of computer print-out which obstructed my view, I wanted to re-cycle it, so we made them get the bins. This was good, now my work wouldn’t be wasted- was it just anal-retention, all these bits of paper I had collected? No, I just thought I might need it to wipe my ass with, when I went out for a crap in the woods and never came back
To the white sterile halls of self-abandon, swim in your own psychic muck.
He was fat, an angel, smiled his curled-up lip while he told us about Marx. I could eat my hunger, it lives within.
Self-destructive anal-ysis passed the zenith, passed the deedline, overcame itself, tumbled- head over heels in paralysis in selective syndromes. Anaesthetized my soul with drugs, seal me in a solitary bubble- I don’t want to catch your social diseases. They spread too fast for isolation, they are viruses not diseases. I took a shot from mother nature’s special cup. Once I had left the sanctuary I knew I would not find it there again, this sacred chalice-holy grail. Wait for the next time, walk from oasis to oasis but you can’t stop long, for you miss the fray, the battle, sounds of limbs being severed, plash of weapons in the holy war, blood flows and the bodies pile battle of worlds, encompassed by words, pen-sword I kiss thee and bless thee in the name of the holy mother, our earth, which gave us birth.

So, it all comes back to this. Fundamental egoism. The one. The I. Transcend I- not I because…

Window people
Smoked-glass glazing
You are
Vacantly gazing

The picture is split
By myriad mirror frames
It imprints dull shadows
Across your brain
Won’t you come out to play?

It’s really not so grey today