In
the past two weeks or more my writing/thinking has overlapped intensely with my
teaching and this commemorative project.
At times it’s been difficult to distinguish one discursive location from
the other, especially in the past two weeks when I’ve been teaching Paul and
DuBois in the wake of my visit to Memphis.
The intensity of the overlap has offered me a uniquely clear sense of
purpose that does not always translate into linguistic fluidity. On the contrary, the felt movement of thought
and emotion is overwhelming and reminds me of those days of sailing the aptly
named Dancing Bear, my 14ft Hunter that is most enjoyed when wind and tide are
pushing the limits of my skill to sail.
Like a tumultuous day on the water, the past two weeks have been nothing
short of a dynamic collision between the material in these mediations (both the
originals and the commentaries), the reading I am exploring with my students,
my students responses to the readings, and PES Memphis. There have been moments when I sense its all
too much, but, then, I hear the voice of my daughter saying, “Dad, you can’t be
out there and then become self-conscious about being out there.” Translation, you are either ‘out there’ –
dwelling in the ek-static place of the Open – or you are not. ‘Out there’ is the heart depicted on the
‘outside’ of Howlin Wolf. He is depicted
as the one empowered by the courage of his convictions, the faith that sends
forth his music in the manner of fire; flames that not only emerge from his
thorn encircled heart but also from his mouth, rendering him analogous to the
Pentecostal figures in the streets of Jerusalem.
The
figure of the ‘lone wolf’, however, can misrepresent the direction of my commentary
if it takes on too much of the authority of Kierkegaard’s subject, that strong
fearless figure of faith. I want to
retain that figure’s strength and courage as an exemplar of the sage, the one
who gathers together and leads the community of learning. Socrates is an example of the sage, but not
Heraclitus, although the latter prophetically announces the one who can gather
and lead the community that emerges in that place (time and space) that exists outside of the
law of the state and disrupts the logic of marketplace. It remains to be seen if Paul qualifies as
the sage of the learning community. I
might want to read his epistles as another kind of writing that, as Agamben
explains in a compelling way, happens in the kairological temporality that
exists ‘outside’ the chronological and in the messianic, which is to say, the
‘time that remains’. Here I am recalling
the co-existence of the three temporal horizons (past, present, future) that I
wrote about yesterday as co-existing in the movement of the learning
community. Paul is writing from outside
the law but inside the congregations he has organized. Yet he also remains outside those congregations in
the sense that he is not present and writing from another location in time and
space. What’s more, his letters are
written to a future community, to ‘his’ community that has evolved in his
absence. All this to say that I could
read his letters to his communities as compelling resources for the learning
community, although I’m not quite sure how to work them into my thinking on koinonia.
The
writing form 11/4/04 returns to Heidegger’s musings on Rilke’s “song is
existence”. On 10/17/14 while in
Memphis I wrote on the fragment: Rilke’s aphorism/fragment “Song is
existence.” Song is existence! The
mimetic making, a copying of the essential flow…music making, improvisational
music making. Music is existence, the
existence of human legein the saying
that imitates the flow
ῥεῖ (rhei) of Logos. But this musical existence needs to be
learned, it is the hardest apprenticeship.
Learned first and foremost through listening, which is what is
emphasized in the preparatory work of apathetic
reading, where the phenomenology of reception is practiced.” (OPM 245(246) On 11/4/04
“song is existence” expresses the article of faith in the human poetic
response to Being’s Becoming that is experienced as an offering. The reception of the offering in its full
force gathers the learning community.
Put otherwise, the learner is the one who receives the call (klēsis, calling
or vocation). Here is not the place to
return to the relation between calling and saying something via vocare.
(cf.PPM10 2/22/14, OPM 218(9), 09/20/14) It is the place to note the importance of
the gathering call as having such a force that the one who receives it is totally
turned around, such that the original (and originary) question raised in Being and Learning regarding the turning
around of the soul to contemplate Being (ie., to begin learning) is here
‘answered’ again via the force of the call (klēsis)
that is uncompromising and we might even say total if not totalizing of the
subject. This is the other side of
Kierkegaard’s muscular subject: he is radically subjected by his faith. But
if we follow the Pauline congregational we end up with the learning community
that is gathered together by muscular subjects, a powerful chorus, the
proverbial Fisk University singers whose faith is actualized in the
congregation they form and that forms them.
Heidegger is cited on 11/04/04 to express this: “The more venturesome are
those who say in a greater degree, in the manner of the singer. Their singing is turned away from all
purposeful self-assertion. It is not a
willing in the sense of desire. Their song does not solicit anything to be
produced.”(‘What are Poets For?’)
On
11/04/04 I read this as insisting the work of the singers, the dialogic
learners “the production of the song is not…the making of a commodity…who value
stands to be weighed and measured by those ‘traders’ who appropriate it. Songs remain within the community.”(BL 261)
However, against Heidegger, the saying of the singers, the songs, is
indeed an act of solicitation, and one that is always already happening before
the singers saying anything at all.
Their song solicits in the sense of requesting and calling for, making
an appeal for compassionate listening.
Singing solicits the productive work of listening.
The
meditation on 11/04/04 thinks dialectically, identifying the work of the
learning community as a contra-diction.
It speaks acoustically against the digitized and mechanized regime of
schooling “that functions under the machination of technologies that package
and reify…all learners to the status of quantifiable ‘objects’ that can be
measured and standardized.”(BL 261) If Memory gathers the community of learning
in music-making thinking, then mechanized education (‘schooling’) represents
the “abandonment…a forgetting of Being’s originary dispensation and
presencing. The mechanical, the
repetition of the same, supplants the spiritual, the improvisational
performance of the free.”(BL 261) Spirit bursts on the discursive scene as the
excess not simply to cybernetics, but to the organizational logic that programs
it. Here is not the place for an
extensive presentation of their discussion, but in their seminar on Heraclitus,
Fink and Heidegger delve into the strange way that Hereaclitus’ kuberman (to steer) is delivered down to
us as ‘cybernetics’ (kubernētēs). [Recall: Heraclitus, fragment 28: Τὰ
δὲ
πάντα
οἰακίζει
κεραυνός.
It
is the thunderbolt that steers the course of all things. cf OPM 253(254),
October 25th] The steering
that Heraclitus denotes in fragment 28 has become totally degenerated under the
hubris of cybernetics that is not limited to the ubiquity of artificial
intelligence. The more perverse and
insidious manifestation is happening in the so-called ‘application’ of the
cybernetic to the organization of ‘schooling’, with the mechanization of
knowledge under and plan and control framework that replicates the supply chain
strategies of large scale retail industry.
“The machination is a true abandonment insofar as it has relinquished
all recognition and affirmation of Being.” (BL
261)
3.0 (Monday, Portland, ME). "Song is existence," indeed! Last night was the Dead Zone's Phil Lesh memorial show. The one and only Phil passed away last Friday, October 25, at the age of 84. The memorial show I produced focused on Phil's description of his journey as an artist as 'searching for the sound.' So I played various highlights from Phil's portfolio of performances, but also included music from two who influenced him beyond others: Luciano Berio and John Coltrane. Coltrane was an inspiration for this project, which got underway in February of 2004 during the two week celebration of his music that was aired by WKCR, Columbia U's radio station. Coltrane 24 hours a day for two weeks! I can't understate the influence that Coltrane has had on this project and beyond. The fearlessness of his playing that was enabled by his uncompromising discipline, his relentless preparation. Coltrane invited a new sonic language for music, and used the genre of jazz to express it. Last night during the Berio>Coltrane segment of the DZ I was reading the opening sections of Husserl's 'The Phenomenology of Internal Time-Consciousness,' which is one of the founding texts of phenomenology. And I was surprised to read him using music and our reception of it as his primary example of phenomenological consciousness. Music depends on listening, and Husserl's description of that listening suggests that there would be no music if we couldn't perceive the being of each note following the next but also lingering in some way. The notes (or the sound more generally, lest we forget about the drums! :-) Appear and are perceived, each one real in the present moment when they are heard. What Husserl doesn't do is describe the lingering or trace of each note as resonating or echoing, which is an important element with all sonic phenomenon, including speaking. Nancy, of course, emphasizes resonance. I'll have to re-read those opening sections again, because Husserl may be using an alternative term to describe resonance. The proverbial and actual 'Phil Zone' that Lesh created is an example both of the resonance of music and the way that resonance gathers community. And in that way, Lesh is an exemplar of the philosophical educator. At the beginning of last night's memorial show I played Phil speaking to the crowd about the mutual or collective effort between musicians and audience, declaring that the music was a joint effort and that it couldn't come into being without the audience of listeners. In this sense, the existence of music depends on those who make the sound and those who receive it, and perhaps in that way music teaches us about the truths of human experience, that is, the intersubjective and dialogic nature of human existence!
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