.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Monday, June 30, 2025

Features of Language Game Grammars...

...the Ishmael Effect
"The rule proves nothing; the exception proves everything. In the exception the power of real life breaks through the crust of a mechanism that has become torpid by repetition. Sovereign is he who decides on the exception"
-Carl Schmitt

George Klauba, "The Castaway" 

Herman Melville, "Moby Dick - Epilogue"

“...AND I ONLY AM ESCAPED ALONE TO TELL THEE” - Job 1:17
The drama’s done. Why then here does any one step forth?—Because one did survive the wreck.

It so chanced, that after the Parsee’s disappearance, I was he whom the Fates ordained to take the place of Ahab’s bowsman, when that bowsman assumed the vacant post; the same, who, when on the last day the three men were tossed from out of the rocking boat, was dropped astern. So, floating on the margin of the ensuing scene, and in full sight of it, when the halfspent suction of the sunk ship reached me, I was then, but slowly, drawn towards the closing vortex. When I reached it, it had subsided to a creamy pool. Round and round, then, and ever contracting towards the button-like black bubble at the axis of that slowly wheeling circle, like another Ixion I did revolve. Till, gaining that vital centre, the black bubble upward burst; and now, liberated by reason of its cunning spring, and, owing to its great buoyancy, rising with great force, the coffin life-buoy shot lengthwise from the sea, fell over, and floated by my side. Buoyed up by that coffin, for almost one whole day and night, I floated on a soft and dirgelike main. The unharming sharks, they glided by as if with padlocks on their mouths; the savage sea-hawks sailed with sheathed beaks. On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel, that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan.

Call me Ishmael. 

George Klauba, "Ishmael" (2003)

7 comments:

Les Carpenter said...

The power of life and living breaks through when one realizes and rests in the mind's natural state. A state of calm ease and equanimity suffused with compassion.

I suggest you get to work.

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

What makes you think that I seek to "rest" my mind?

Les Carpenter said...

Of course you don't.

Anonymous said...

Oh, yes. Compassion... that do not mean providing any help.)))))

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

Nor do you, apparently. the alternative isn't wisdom, its ignorance.

Les Carpenter said...

I rest my mind during practice and contemplation. Then back to relative reality and...

Row row row your boat gently down the stream.

Merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream.

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

I rest mine when I go to sleep and transfer consciousness to my right hemisphere and it tries to repackage my day into long-term memory.