Common wisdomS

In the book Mind and How It Intersects With Consciousness, the author discusses regulatory principles of ideas. The author seems to be emphasizing the transformation of knowledge into a truly freed thought. The climax of the meditation about the complex, interlaced multiangulation between and among mind, consciousness, ideas, and thought seems to be the observation about these moments having been exceeded. That remark seems to be signaling the conclusion about the philosophical marvel manifested in the alleged transparency of  the right to acknowledge the absoluteness of the everyday. This, again, would not be possible were it not for the prerequisite frankness that enables the validity of some statements, while some other utterances are due to it resisted for the insufficiency of argumentative power or the absence thereof. In some traditional vocabularies such faculty is called objectivity. In some traditionally playful parlances, however, it is called ye groove.

Between these ruminations and what another poet-thinker would have imagined, a shift in cultural consciousness occurred. What used to be known as traditional cultural categories amalgamated into newly formed hybrids. Or, so common wisdom has it. The uncommon one says that humanity just united under the green flag. Or, so the nihilo-cannibalist discourse of deception has it. 

There is a poem entitled A Story About Congenial Presentness. In it, the poet talks about time and the historicizable ahistorical  moments of realization how poetry is being created. In it, the poet hesitantly expresses one’s opinion about the ancient times when people were defending themselves from historical hostilities by cocooning art inside an imaginary perfection. Time showed, however, that by doing so, they not only exposed an unconcealable anxiety caused by sweeping contingencies, but allowed an impermissible transformation of their invisibility into a detrimental grandiosity. Simply put, their intended perfection of art turned out to be a utopian endeavor that not only proved impossible, but demonstrated their own sinful imperfection. Paradoxically, that saved them from a further pursuit of such silly dreams. Theirs, however, is not to be suggested as a recommendable recuperating practice, but not not to be perceived as a call for further struggle against auto-perpetuating and auto-consuming grandeur.

With that in mind, one imagines poets from the past to be the center of culture that in the times following theirs would not be possible. In other words, the popularity once achieved through a celebratory attitude of the audience at certain moments in history cannot be repeated in different cultural context. Later, cultural heroes were to be a bunch of experimentators playing with folk tradition while surfing on the waves of a droning  sound of sampled tambourine and trembling lyric vocals. It certainly does not deprive cultural scenes of the spaces for fat cylindrical distortions of a six-string-monster riff.  It surely enables the fuzziness of the syncopated, sticky tones emanated from the body of the (f)oYr string Xo(r)tak to converse with the  spreading subtonic web.  Nor does it numb the congenial dubs of  the ¾ rhythm of the sunlit trees smiling in gratitude to the source of that magnificent warmth.