A Journey through three ironic metaphors: Osmosis, Refraction and Entropy – Valid only at the time of reading.
A metaphor that I could perhaps use to help envisage the process of change would be that of osmosis. It is perhaps ironic that I can use such a scientific concept to establish my personal idea of the current fluid outcome of my present position. Looking back at my memorial experience of science I remember somehow clearly the experiment of the osmosis of blood; oozing, seeping out from a clear plastic bag; with, of course, an appropriate explanation – its model. This explanation, that the barrier although appearing resolute, an impasse, leaked the blood, the red current dribbling through, somehow deciding itself that this prison was of no consequence – the barrier breached; was modelled as a difference in the size of the prison bars (cell) and the interns (cell). The blood cells slipping through its cell walls seduced by someone’s gravity and there is no real return apart from an imposed temporary relocation by some external symbolic violence. This is/was the model of explanation that is proposed; normalised; but now perhaps I can propose an equally mystic model; such as the blood being seduced through; where this seduction is some song of some ethereal vampire siren. I can accept this model being as equally valid, out of the accepted normalised scientific pre-held theory. I have my new model, I have many created models, I can argue for them all, some and none. I am un-decided and I will take my position according to where I am and how I feel; but that was then. But the metaphor is corporeal, essential, my blood seeping slowly like the hour hand, imperceptible movement, but you look again and it has moved, out from one happy prison, into another.
My model of osmosis by seduction could simulate my position of being at the barrier between states, neither in one or the other, but still in some state – or many. This barrier, this leak from one state to another, an escape, although not great, planned or sought; happened or was perceived. The force of gravity being as from Nietzsche (Nietzsche 1999) (not an unwanted ranting dwarf on my shoulder) which sucks the corporeal pumped force to another home. The area of escape however is no home, no ideal, it is another place, another place to escape from/to; I am disappointed that there is no real final outcome, no light at the end of an enlightened tunnel but I am happy in this disappointment. But I see in the plastic bag an empty place, where I existed corporally, where cell and cell were interchanged dimensionally. Not until the force of thought and performance allowed the gravity of the situation to cause the cell/cell power reversal, seeing the gap in the impenetrable fence, enabling a seeping of choice to drain away, leaving one symbolic order without the life-force oxygen carrying motive of publicity.
I refer to my new invented model of osmosis, detached from the scientific model as my connection to Zarathustra in Nietzsche – where I can paraphrase (in italics) his first decent into the village of the Pied Cow, when meeting with the Priest – “Have they not heard that their God is dead”. “Their god” being that once of my god, my belief and ideal. Yet sometimes I feel the force of their Deity of this Symbolic Order demanding that I re-enter into the old blood prison and defend its ideal to others. And I have to enter and defend, but also subverting the symbolic other by sending my message of disappointment to others.
My experience is refractive; my internal media changes with the interaction with text. It splits an enlightenment into its constituent parts, finds its colours and is disappointed in its art. This refraction shifts the message from input to output, I am the process. My media changes according to experience, there is no history in this metaphor, it is of a current situation, forever changing position. For now I know that my media is in a mode of happy disappointment. I also see that in my disappointment that the only dwarf waiting at the end of this refracted rainbow could just be Nietzsche’s Ape and I hope that I will be disappointed. This refraction lies in language, engagement with various texts, these texts, written, verbal, received and performed, initially hinted as some metamorphoses; am I becoming Woman?
Yet there is history here, but not of a tradition temporal design. I can perhaps use a metaphor here, and again a scientific one of entropy, of a set of decaying detritus of symbols on the eternal return road; this refuse being a textual phenomenon, non time dependant echoes of direction. At Nietzsche’s gate (Nietzsche 1999) was written “This Moment”, on his eternal path, this gate opens to the path and the path is determined by what is written on the gate, there is no branch, no option to choose – shall I be modern, post modern, hermeneutic, grounded, phenomenological, anthropological? When I pass through the gate and turn around there is no gate, only a signpost behind and another gate ahead. The path behind decays with memory and becomes obsolete – only re-invigorated perhaps by the energy from the casual glance behind. And when I do this, and I reengage I refract yet again and I osmosise – if that is possible.
Thus- this; my textual interaction; is valid only at the time of reading, and as I read this I refract and osmose and I discard some thought along some stony eternal return. Etc.