I was in Manchester last week. Once, I knew the city well, but I haven’t visited in a few years; so the new skyscrapers on Deansgate seemed a sudden imposition into somewhere familiar. Like the Beetham Tower to their north, they are on a different scale to the low sprawl that surrounds them. They make no concessions to Manchester or humanity. They do not look like buildings. They look like the inscrutable geometric judgement of an alien god.
Thanks again ffatalism. I read recently from another thinker, that in civilisation culture becomes a museum. It mimics a living thing, but the culture is cut off from the cult from which its sacredness is communicated through symbol. As you write it is a lie and an inversion. Where I live in Swedish countryside I am reminded of this often, which can be painful. The museum breeds nostalgia too I think. And also, I agree that economic materialism is revealing reality as it is, it’s brutal like the skyscrapers. But you have geist in your writing, which I find very meaningful!
Jun 21, 2022·edited Jun 21, 2022Liked by FFatalism
Amen to this. I am writing this in a box canyon at 7600 ft up in Rocky Mountains. It is a beautiful place. All who come here remark on how peaceful it is. It is a kind of antidote to the sprawling suburbs.
But I am here only because the machine still hums along, even if it is sputtering a bit these days.
Hey brother, words well spelt. I sit here, flipside on the planet. On this day, we are other sides of the solstice and yet the story is the same. We don’t see it here in our skyskape but it is felt heavily as atmosphere. The mood. That sense. It has lingered long and, like truffle dogs, some raised a level of alert. Others, scurrying past the meadows, chose not to see.
So should we borrow a barrow and enter a furrow…
Collect back and start again. Reset (as a term) has become too abused. But the essence of collective, which sits outside the framework of words, is an option. Minds have a function but their rule has become oppressive. Perhaps, it is time to connect back to the heart.
Great essay. “They look like the inscrutable geometric judgement of an alien god.” I love this sentence, it’s perfect.
I used to love going shopping, even if I had no money to spend, just wandering around looking at all the shiny baubles, being part of the hustle and bustle, feeling connected to The World; then I grew up and realized it was all either empty show or part of a sneaky, gangrenous, people-eating monstrosity, and subsequently lost my taste for it. Unfortunately, most people these days don’t seem to be growing up, no matter how old they get. Do most of us stay children forever? Is that why so many of us are still blindly playing the game?
I was smiling inwardly when I read "cities lie" but then was taken aback and exposed to read the countryside lies - but it is oh so true.
Now I am thinking what does a landscape of truth look like? It is probably somewhere marginal or traditional (in the sense of indigenously managed) - but even there lies are present I am sure.
Thanks again ffatalism. I read recently from another thinker, that in civilisation culture becomes a museum. It mimics a living thing, but the culture is cut off from the cult from which its sacredness is communicated through symbol. As you write it is a lie and an inversion. Where I live in Swedish countryside I am reminded of this often, which can be painful. The museum breeds nostalgia too I think. And also, I agree that economic materialism is revealing reality as it is, it’s brutal like the skyscrapers. But you have geist in your writing, which I find very meaningful!
Amen to this. I am writing this in a box canyon at 7600 ft up in Rocky Mountains. It is a beautiful place. All who come here remark on how peaceful it is. It is a kind of antidote to the sprawling suburbs.
But I am here only because the machine still hums along, even if it is sputtering a bit these days.
It too is a lie.
Hey brother, words well spelt. I sit here, flipside on the planet. On this day, we are other sides of the solstice and yet the story is the same. We don’t see it here in our skyskape but it is felt heavily as atmosphere. The mood. That sense. It has lingered long and, like truffle dogs, some raised a level of alert. Others, scurrying past the meadows, chose not to see.
So should we borrow a barrow and enter a furrow…
Collect back and start again. Reset (as a term) has become too abused. But the essence of collective, which sits outside the framework of words, is an option. Minds have a function but their rule has become oppressive. Perhaps, it is time to connect back to the heart.
Great essay. “They look like the inscrutable geometric judgement of an alien god.” I love this sentence, it’s perfect.
I used to love going shopping, even if I had no money to spend, just wandering around looking at all the shiny baubles, being part of the hustle and bustle, feeling connected to The World; then I grew up and realized it was all either empty show or part of a sneaky, gangrenous, people-eating monstrosity, and subsequently lost my taste for it. Unfortunately, most people these days don’t seem to be growing up, no matter how old they get. Do most of us stay children forever? Is that why so many of us are still blindly playing the game?
Good work this. I think another honest aspect of the city are its bins. They're like the clogged arteries.
Wow!
Cuts to the core FC&F.
Love this.
This is great writing.
Superb.
I was smiling inwardly when I read "cities lie" but then was taken aback and exposed to read the countryside lies - but it is oh so true.
Now I am thinking what does a landscape of truth look like? It is probably somewhere marginal or traditional (in the sense of indigenously managed) - but even there lies are present I am sure.