The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

the world (for Miekal And)

the world is _precisely_ as it seems, although for centuries it has been
considered an illusion, or the imprint of the limited bandwidth of our
sensorium. in other words, it's seemed as if it were fictive, but now this
fictivity itself is in question. instead, wysiwyg - what you see is what
you get; this is true for the universe as well. there are no spirits,
hidden crevices, gods or goddesses, no souls, afterlives, heavens or
hells: there is precisely what one sees. we are embedded in it; we are
part and parcel of it; there is naught else. the world seems to be all
there is, and it is precisely that. it is describable, inert, mute, moot,
encompassing; we are of the world, which is not of us. for the world is
greater by far; we are among its accidents, its sports, its momentary
heuristics tending nowhere in particular. it is illusion that the world is
illusory; it is false that the world is false. there are no veils, no
secrets. (very small) (very small) (very small)


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