When I was, well, inspired to write about the theme of inspiration, I realized that it raises a question. This newsletter’s usual purpose is to domesticate the imagination, so to speak: to show it as the home of human life. But inspiration is the breaking in of some power from beyond. Home is what is familiar, safe, enclosed, but at the price of insulating us, of limiting our horizons, of shutting out what is new or strange as possibly threatening. It sounds glamorous to be inspired, but, given the choice, we may prefer our snug, routine life and choose not to be. Of course, inspiration does not always ask permission.
One of your best. You managed to get through it without mentioning Trump which is a good sign. A conspiracy theory is usefully defined as an explanation of something that polite society cannot abide. Calling someone a conspiracy theorist is a grave term of abuse and a way of shutting down debate. Esquire magazine posted a list of 23 conspiracies in 1996 that included "The Military-Industrial Complex." The declaration by Eisenhower in his final speech is still struggling to come out of the smokescreen. Whether Oedipa truly cares about the existence of Trystero or is more concerned with the implications of its existence gets to the crux of the matter. I remember as a student reading Etienne Gilson spending hours knocking my head against the distinction between essence and existence to no avail. Those interested in figuring out who is behind the postal service miss the point. Eventually, you get nothing but flyers in the mail.
One of your best. You managed to get through it without mentioning Trump which is a good sign. A conspiracy theory is usefully defined as an explanation of something that polite society cannot abide. Calling someone a conspiracy theorist is a grave term of abuse and a way of shutting down debate. Esquire magazine posted a list of 23 conspiracies in 1996 that included "The Military-Industrial Complex." The declaration by Eisenhower in his final speech is still struggling to come out of the smokescreen. Whether Oedipa truly cares about the existence of Trystero or is more concerned with the implications of its existence gets to the crux of the matter. I remember as a student reading Etienne Gilson spending hours knocking my head against the distinction between essence and existence to no avail. Those interested in figuring out who is behind the postal service miss the point. Eventually, you get nothing but flyers in the mail.