The Oneness of All

Rise a little ways above the earth and see

the borders disappear. And then believe

that height is the true height. A little higher

and you’ll see the borders between words

erased as well, tree becomes one with apple,

apple with bird, bird with everything. My love

for you dissolves to nothingness and all

love cries for unity with it and snowball.

Tentative Thoughts after Reading Ricoeur's The Rule of Metaphor"

I’ve finished The Rule of Metaphor—a book whose conclusions regarding philosophy and metaphor are—one must use a metaphor—enlightening.

One can take from this work of philosophy an understanding of the necessary failure of philosophy which is an inevitable effect of the limits of language, the inability of language to articulate even once the thing the speculative philosopher desires/attempts to articulate. Metaphor is the conduit from the known to the unknown. Metaphor always erases what it writes as it writes, leaving only its trace. The end of philosophy leads to poetry—the next rung on language’s ladder. Poetry, the cauldron of metaphor, too must fail. The final step to being is silence. Knowing, inarticulate, smiling silence.

You Are a Balloon

You are a balloon.

Inside you is a capsule of compressed air.

On the capsule is a plunger, which, when pressed, releases compressed air.

A little spurt and you grow

a little bigger. But

osmosis lets a little air out through the skin.

Your biggest fear is you will aggravate the plunger and all that bottled air will scream to.

Now.

Boom.

Metaphors of Everyday Life

Ordinary language is the graveyard of dead metaphors. Ricoeur says as often as he says anything that metaphor is what you will not find in the dictionary. Thus he draws the line between metaphoric and literal expression, between those metaphors that have not (yet) ossified into a plain meanings and those that have. For his purpose this is perfectly legitimate. In a larger sense it creates a problem in that all the fundamental corpses of literal language can be (in theory) spontaneously reanimated. We never know if it’s truly dead or merely catatonic. Whether it is truly dead but can rise as a zombie. (This carving of a man out of wax seems sincere.) And there are a number of metaphors at the fuzzy border of the line of the dictionary, passing back and forth, not quite settling into death or sleep. And finally, for anyone deeply immersed in language and the history of language, the implicit metaphors are not dead at all. (I see dead—metaphors. Ghosts.) He laughs at the claim that the typhoon decimated the population.

It’s in part because language’s dead metaphors are never yet quite dead to all readers and yet dead beyond recall to others that sentences are so hard to nail down.

Moreover the study of metaphor yields, eventually, the realization that the ordinary language we use literally every day to make plain and unambiguous meanings is really just a collection of dead, half dead, playing dead and merely sleeping metaphors that create a bizarre monster of meanings in whose belly we live and which, but for myriad accidents of history, might have been entirely another monster.