While I can’t say much of anything meaningful about the present events in Egypt, I can make some observations on the reactions in Western capitols to those events — the Western Chorus promoting “reform” and the reformers, which is generally banal, self-seeking, very hypocritical, and very much post hoc.
Last evening, I watched a strange film by Canadian film-maker Bruce McDonald called Pontypool (2009). It is a mock horror send-up of talk radio and logocentrism, also described as a “psychological thriller” or “political satire”. Outside the Canadian context, though, some features and allusions in the film might seem difficult to appreciate (which also becomes a bit of a subplot in the film).
I’m also quite sure that the real Ontario town of Pontypool and the town in the film are entirely different.
“Everything that happens to us… is only the answer and echo of what and how we ourselves are. — Jean Gebser, The Ever-Present Origin
KDK’s comment to the last post, along with my response, have helped me to refocus my original purposes for The Chrysalis, and account for why I have high expectations in reviewing H.W. Percival’s book Thinking and Destiny. In that sense, the last post on perverse outcomes and lost causes isn’t such a diversion from Percival’s themes at all.
For the moment I want to belay my meditations on Percival’s book Thinking and Destiny to address the issue of perverse outcome (although the two themes are related). There are other strange a’goings-on that should be highlighted on occasion.
The cover that graces the online version of Thinking and Destiny is not the same one that enfolds the paperbound edition. The cover on my copy is bland and silly. Whoever composed the illustration for the paperbound version may not have even read the book much beyond the Foreword. It shows a man and a woman in sketched silhouette holding hands. In stages they ascend through different coloured bands of red, yellow, turquoise, and white from the bottom of the cover to the top. As the two romantic soul-mates ascend through the bands, they gradually fuse together until, in the white band, there is but one figure — the sexless, genderless primordial androgyne become the caricature image of Percival’s characterisation of “perfect sexless bodies in the Realm of Permanence.”