Reading Derrida From The Gutter

Psycho Babble

SE: There are a lot of different names for the phenomenon, but I will say this, it has a certain calming effect when a syntax is used lovingly to describe it, like the gentle touch of mist on your face whispering through the air. Sorry, I sometimes allow my romantic side to take hold.

ID: No, it's fine. I thought it was quite nice.

SE: I know it isn't fashionable for a man of letters to speak like that. He should be pragmatic. But please, bear with me here because I believe that an understanding of anything meaningful is more about having vision than just the facts. You have to see what's happening implicitly, not simply what's right in front of you.

ID: And that's why you say in your book that too many people are ill-equipped for having such a conversation?

SE: And the number keeps growing. People take such pride in how many random facts they can memorize -- "oh, I'm smarter than you." But ask those same people to put those facts into a meaningful conversation, to move from a space of authenticity and not just simply replay a recording of something they heard somewhere, and I think you'd be hard pressed. Is there a place for facts? Absolutely. You need a foundation before you can speak in abstract terms, but you need to see beyond that foundation to somewhere other -- the gap -- and that's just not happening.

A danger lies in this too -- the violence people cause by perpetuating a conversation they don't understand by simply replaying their recording. And it doesn't have to be physical violence either, although that can be a result. When a conversation gains enough momentum, regardless of whether it's understood or not, it will inevitably suppress the other side of that same conversation. And when someone feels like they're not heard, physical violence can result. But make no mistake, it's violence either way.

ID: So what conversation are you having in your book?

SE: It's a more of a question, really, about the phenomenon that has carried us through all the crumbling landmarks, fallen colonnades, and can it thrive in industrial society, or have we become too mechanized for any life to thrive at all. Some call it the will to power, others the soul, but the book tries futilely to pinpoint what it is exactly -- and is it malleable. If so, we might be able to better direct the flow of humanity.

ID: That sounds a bit like magic.

SE: I miss the days when I still believed in magic. Think of the possibilities. It was worth the nightmares that came with it. But that's because -- again, assuming the syntax is correct -- it speaks of a place that transcends any moment in space. So of course it sounds like magic. But we just don't have the framework for understanding what it really is.

ID: You talk about something you call 'the method of returning.' Can you explain?

SE: The idea behind the method of returning is to use whatever tools are available to us as such in order to build a framework that will return some kind of anthropomorphized version of the phenomenon, or thereabouts, so we can study it.

ID: Kind of like casting a net and seeing what you catch?

SE: Exactly. It's an attempt at returning at least a sample of the phenomenon perhaps holding it all together for further consideration. This, of course, is where facts come in -- our own framework, as well as our only way of understanding. At least for now. But the difference is the way the facts are handled. The first thing you need to understand is that what we call facts only exist in our framework -- this one right here -- not somewhere other, so we need to use them for identifying the phenomenon, but more importantly, identifying what it isn't, then adjust accordingly. That's why an internalization of facts is so important, because it allows you to move more freely.

ID: So what might constructing such a framework look like, if that's the correct terminology?