Date: Fri, 11 Jul 1997 13:21:26 -0700
From: Socha <347hqx7-AT-cmuvm.csv.cmich.edu>
Subject: two left double-helixed corns


Lucio,

Forgive the 'intentionality' that plays my sensibilite, as I trip over
your footlights, marvel at your herculean pillars and ooze in your
'healing balm.'  Guardening curtains belated bones from Diderot's
dictum: "anyone who needs instruction won't go far..." with his "...god
help me if I know what I am underneath..." confident as I am in his
assertion that if "...nothing is premeditated, no one is offended..."
(Le Neveu De Rameau, 53-7).  

What is wise for those of us pretending more to clown than to sagacity,
is less a matter of what is written, than of what is being writ, writing
in transit, or 'yumo' (humor in the Chinese sense), 'secluded' and
'silent,' in which state one feeling less gripped, may grip more firmly.

Still, I am subject, as Diderot has described, to thinking "in one way
and unable to prevent myself acting in another" (ROM 579).  Am I foolish
then, also to ask with that sage, for the privilege of hearing
"something that's not as crazy as I might think rather than something
wise" (Roth, ii. 282-3)?

You and I both desire less to attack than to promote the general cause
in hand.  Because I grimace less under the unquestionable strength of
your opposition, than from the uncertainty of my own position, guardened
and curtained in the interests of a greater reception of signals
inimical to a proper process of self-definition, the 'flesh of the
problem,' I find merely empirical.

What empirical evidence isn't frustrated by he who's been "given the
word'(of our common morality)?  What fleshy ball is not restricted the
prerogatives of a utilitarian billet (you & Popper say there's lots to
do outside the noose of levied propriety)?

Never to be locked in any two-step, my barefoot arabesque will follow
you less than the secret music of the seeds of my own destruction.  The
ineffable is more daunting than the physical!

Bleeding with fatigue, palpitating interruptions and inadequate
reserves, on to notre Bataille avec Diderot!

Don Socha