Dada Dolly (The Sheep Sheared Bare-ish, Even)
I am currently searching for a way into the 'Dolly Diptych'.
Dolly needs honouring, amongst others, and put alongside her/his/their associated reprobates, she/he/they being equal in every possible way to Falstaff, James and Marcel/Rrose (and UBU/Jarry, of course).
I mean, Duh! The first cloned sheep showing us a way forward. Who woulda thunk? Clever Dolly!
Beatify Dolly Now!
Jus' sayin'.
Summarising summarily: I feel that we are at a point of change. This is a point where we join the rest of the creative universe in making a slow transition from procreation to bifurcation. Whilst I am aware that this hypothesis might be generated by the guilt of being a non-procreative unit, I am willing to follow it to its conclusion.
As our reproductive capacity diminishes, as evinced by our sperm count and fertility levels decreasing, coupled with the recent development of gene pool mapping, and our capacity to clone in the laboratory, a pattern would seem to be developing. Perhaps we are naturally getting in line with the rest of everything (I have trouble with words such as creation as this presupposes a creator), the universal.
We get in line by splitting, by extending our pseudopodia into an unknown to feel our way outwards so that we can divide with some security, finding our footing so to speak. The recognition is that to divide in this way is to generate two momentarily weak halves until some growth occurs. This growth is inevitable but sore. So, each part moves forward cautiously, not trusting but feeling its way forward. Asking, and searching, more than trusting.
Learning happens and all sorts of images and words, sketches and utterances, are generated that describe this experience. These two separate bodies are aware of each other. They care for each other because the smaller is generated by the larger and the larger feels a responsibility to help the smaller survive, and the smaller wants to make the larger proud. Parenting is like making Art. Both are natural and unavoidable for some, and when you make either you love them and want to see them survive. You make them the best you can within your limitations and send them out into the world to fend for themselves.
How do we describe this? Sometimes with words, sometimes with images, and sometimes with a combination of both, apparently. There are a myriad of ways to do exactly this, so called lifepaths. It, these descriptions of the 'doubling' or this splitting, are simple byproducts of consciousness. Though at the same time, these descriptions, the byproducts, do resemble a grain of salt in a stew attempting to describe the meal itself, and the 'chef' to boot. Sometimes we even encourage this imagined chef to become a deity. Like the rest of life we manifest incorrigibility.
Laughter is a wonderful balm in this seemingly impossible endeavour.
Dada Dolly (The Sheep Sheared Bare-ish, Even)
I am currently searching for a way into the 'Dolly Diptych'.
Dolly needs honouring, amongst others, and put alongside her/his/their associated reprobates, she/he/they being equal in every possible way to Falstaff, James and Marcel/Rrose (and UBU/Jarry, of course).
I mean, Duh! The first cloned sheep showing us a way forward. Who woulda thunk? Clever Dolly!
Beatify Dolly Now!
Jus' sayin'.
Summarising summarily: I feel that we are at a point of change. This is a point where we join the rest of the creative universe in making a slow transition from procreation to bifurcation. Whilst I am aware that this hypothesis might be generated by the guilt of being a non-procreative unit, I am willing to follow it to its conclusion.
As our reproductive capacity diminishes, as evinced by our sperm count and fertility levels decreasing, coupled with the recent development of gene pool mapping, and our capacity to clone in the laboratory, a pattern would seem to be developing. Perhaps we are naturally getting in line with the rest of everything (I have trouble with words such as creation as this presupposes a creator), the universal.
We get in line by splitting, by extending our pseudopodia into an unknown to feel our way outwards so that we can divide with some security, finding our footing so to speak. The recognition is that to divide in this way is to generate two momentarily weak halves until some growth occurs. This growth is inevitable but sore. So, each part moves forward cautiously, not trusting but feeling its way forward. Asking, and searching, more than trusting.
Learning happens and all sorts of images and words, sketches and utterances, are generated that describe this experience. These two separate bodies are aware of each other. They care for each other because the smaller is generated by the larger and the larger feels a responsibility to help the smaller survive, and the smaller wants to make the larger proud. Parenting is like making Art. Both are natural and unavoidable for some, and when you make either you love them and want to see them survive. You make them the best you can within your limitations and send them out into the world to fend for themselves.
How do we describe this? Sometimes with words, sometimes with images, and sometimes with a combination of both, apparently. There are a myriad of ways to do exactly this, so called lifepaths. It, these descriptions of the 'doubling' or this splitting, are simple byproducts of consciousness. Though at the same time, these descriptions, the byproducts, do resemble a grain of salt in a stew attempting to describe the meal itself, and the 'chef' to boot. Sometimes we even encourage this imagined chef to become a deity. Like the rest of life we manifest incorrigibility.
Laughter is a wonderful balm in this seemingly impossible endeavour.