inspiration

[luka]

this is one of those concepts I not only have no interest in 'critiquing' or 'problematising' but that I have such a devout reverence for that it horrifies me when I see people trying to chip away at it. It makes me want to stone the blasphemers.

Thought infused with emotional and spiritual enthusiasm. The cadences pick it up don't they, when it's working, you can hear the rhythms of it

 

[luka]

A physiological basis for it that is crystallised in word choice and word pattern

 

[luka]

"People say we must have the naked Truth in place of these lies. Now what the Spirit and the Blood command me to tell you is this -"
An inspiration was reaching him at last from the dark recesses of his being. It seemed to tear itself through him and force its way out, like a dragon escaping from a thunder-split cavern....

"Any lie," he shouted, "I tell you, any lie as long as a multitude of souls believe it and presses that belief to cracking point, creates new life, while the slavery of what is called truth drags us down to death and the dead! Lies, magic, illusion - these are the names we give to the ripples on the water of our experience when he Spirit of Life blows upon it"

A Glastonbury Romance.

 

[luka]

• Theseus. More strange than true: I never may believe
  These antique fables, nor these fairy toys.
  Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
  Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
  More than cool reason ever comprehends.
  The lunatic, the lover and the poet
  Are of imagination all compact:
  One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
  That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,
  Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:
  The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
  Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
  And as imagination bodies forth
  The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
  Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
  A local habitation and a name.
  Such tricks hath strong imagination,
  That if it would but apprehend some joy,
  It comprehends some bringer of that joy;
  Or in the night, imagining some fear,
  How easy is a bush supposed a bear!

 

[shiels]

Seeing an opportunity to exploit, cracks, connections.

 

[luka]

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.

 

[luka]

First we conduct the mega-ritual, then we build the compound, then we sieze control of the G-O-D function, then all of reality is ours.

 

[luka]

We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality — judiciously, as you will — we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”

 

[constant escape]

Seems to be one of those things where the more you try to codify/systematize it, the more mercurial and unplaceable it becomes, no?

 

[constant escape]

I'd be inclined to agree with the point about friction - like a crucible, productive combustion. Some kind of disagreement/reaction between incompatible things leading to synthesis? If that manifests psychically, it would be some kind of frustration/stress or something.