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in response to post script: The mirror’s the thing to curse us, verisimilitude in our perfect creation of humanity. Ask Dorian.


Like you suggested, I talked to good old Dorian Gray. Well, he told me that if I wanted to find a verisimilar perfection in the creation of humanity, I would have to talk to Wilde. Oscar said that having the appearance of truth, or depicting realism in art or literature is tantamount only to the morality of society. He then told me to talk to Pope who kept repeating over and over that instinct controls reality. Alexander pointed me to Darwin who seemed the obvious choice. I decided to talk to Persig about the word quality. The way I see it, it takes quality to interpret morality and morality to interpret instinct. Nobody puts the knife to quality better than Persig, except for maybe Phaedrus, who naturally led me to Plato.

“What is reflected in the mirror?” he asks.

It’s me; I’m reflected in the mirror.

“No no no,” he slowly shook his head, “it’s the Idea of you.” He went on, “You place yourself in the mirror. It is not you who cast the image, but the thought of you, a pure form. A preconceived notion, a priori.”

I stood there for awhile before I told him that I tend to fall towards a posteriori roots. I’ve no choice but to bring up a nation based on Lockeian belief. I can’t help but only understand what I’ve seen. How can I know what has never been placed before me? I know what I know. I like what I know; a slave of passions. Esse est percipi.

“Jesus Christ,” he said laughing, “now you’re going to tell me that you take solace in Spinoza’s God! Bah! What a cop out! Infinite Substance,” he says. “Incredulous!” He snorts and continues mockingly, “Ohhh yeahhh, God is in all matter, Matter is in God…gimmie a freakin’ break. How can you define anything, let alone yourself if you only believe we’re privy to spirit and matter? Empirical!” He guffaws, “More like Impractical! Pernicious!”

He quiets and grows more serious. “Listen, if you’re looking for the perfect creation of humanity you need to find one who has no appetite. You need to find one that diverts the will away from sensuousness and grows outwards towards eternal Ideas.”

He leans back and studies me, “Tell me, in your mirror, do you see a true distinct you?”

Without hesitation i lean forward and tell him, “Instinctively. It’s instinctive to conceptualize yourself. Instinctive to place you self in nature. Nature has harmony. Humanity strives for balance. It’s scientific, the mirror. It’s scientifically proven that a mirror reflects in exact proportion what we perceive to be real, what we can reach out and touch.”

“How do you know that what you are seeing is in exact proportion to the Idea of it’s true exactness?”

“Good God man! What in the hell are you even saying? What makes you the philosopher king anyway? Can you please show me the true and distinct form of kingness? Show me chairness, deskness, dogness, humanness. Tell me how many lives you lived. Tell me how far up the chain you are. Please, all of your little underlings in togas.”

I smile and continue, “Show me your fucking timeline. Lie and tell me that you’ve no sensual appetite. We all have our own appetites. We all put ourselves in front of the mirror. We all see what we want to see. We look at ourselves and see what others see. It’s human nature to hunger; it’s instinct. Or as you implied, Eros.”

To which he sat back.


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