Six O’Clock Vintage

Seek those images that constitute the wild, the lion and the virgin, the harlot and the child. Find in middle air an eagle on the wing, recognize the five that make the Muses sing. | W.B Yeats, Those Images

Identity Crisis

Been having an interesting discussion with my roommate recently regarding postmodernism (pomo) which has transpired on his blog and in our house. A main point of discussion revolves around this:

| “the pomo folks come across as sounding like ‘we get it and you don’t.’”

Our friend noel offered this comment:

| “I think the “we got it and you don’t attitude” is all over this POMO discussion of late. But it is on both sides of the fence. And this is the rub: even our attempts to understand each other (as sincere as they may be) carry with them lots of theological, cultural, and personal baggage. It is so stinking hard to have a neutral point of reference from which to survey things like this.” |

I think that this comment is indicative of the fact that many postmoderns don’t really know what they’re talking about in regard to themselves. If the pomo’s are true to their heritage, they shouldn’t even argue regarding who is better–indeed, “relevance” is whatever works best in the situation, not some sort of pomo Decalogue that must triumph over the bygone modernism of yesteryear that is inferior in its very essence.

What is really comes down to is something that exists completely outside of postmodernity; transcendental, if you will. In case you were wondering, postmodernism finds its academic core in Saussurean semiotics, Bakhtinian structuralism, and Derridean deconstruction–these are all linguistic models that center the world on TEXT (everything is TEXT by the way). Of course, language, or text, is comprised of arbitrary symbols that are inscribed with meaning as a result of custom and tradition….lalalala….BOOM –> you end up with Open Signification and the loss of any Ontological or essential meaning. Anyway, these theories are exceptionally grand to contemplate and make literary criticism incredibly fun for the enlightened, and indeed, “free play” is something quite valuable in and of itself; however, the mind of man (pardon my sexist rhetoric–”he or she” just seems awkward sometimes, though it is what I mean, of course) invariably returns to one thing. Or maybe, more accurately, the mind IS the very thing. Open Signification is all well and good when applied to text, which includes everything there is but one thing (at least, so I argue here). This one thing is the Conscious (behold, my Husserl influence). The very Conscious itself transcends the realm of subjectivity–one cannot doubt that they have experiences, (note: this is different that Descartes’ “Cognito Ergo Sum,” as well as different than Kant’s “things in and of themselves,” tis rather “objects for consciousness.”) and it is in the Consciousness where meaning emerges. The fodder of our metacognition is capable of meaning change, but the repository of its final resting place remains constant.

Apparently I just went off the deep end…sorry- so what does this mean (”yeah, what the heck is your point?”)?

Once you’ve decided on a meaning, you cling to it and refuse to easily let it change or become meaningless. In fact, you do the best you can to get as many people as possible to adopt the same understanding you do (Foucault and POWER) so that your ideal interpretation is assured privileging due to its hegemonic status. The transcendental Conscious is attempting to elevate its fodder to transcendental status as well. There is no “neutral point of reference from which to survey things like this.” The “language games” are different and have no bearing on each other.

So, recognize the conflict and realize that there is a Center (why else the transcendental call of the Consciousness?), yet that the Author’s text is not objective in our sense, tis rather Divinely subjective in an infinite way. If it works this way or another way, it doesn’t necessarily matter, just remember that: Text was Created; the Birth of the Reader doesn’t necessarily presuppose the Death of the Author; we have been made in the image of the Author; All Truth is the Author’s Truth.

I suppose some of this is sketchy theorizing on my part, so keep that in mind too… anyway, cheerio, and congratulations if you made it this far.

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  1. so, apparently, sometimes familiarity doesn’t breed contempt… it breeds similarity! i posted a comment about Noel’s comment about 45 minutes after you did…mine was just a bit shorter. (although similarly themed)