Orsday Programming October 20 2024
heterodox, orthodox, secular, righteous
Sound logic was lost in the territory we ceded to the orthodoxy; in their claims to return what belonged to Lord God from what was loosely hidden with the heterodox ( and still secured by the secular and Righteous, both) we allowed our grey infrastructures paved over a chaotic earth to be upturned, and chewn through, into piles of rubble, still raw, and festering, and warm to the culture that feverishly enacts this upheaval. I am prompted by my own fever, and the numbing sensation that has dulled the left side of my face, and continues to trickle down the left side of my body—moving into my neck, and arm, and chest, and leg—to see what was lost in our willingness to return to a child-like belief, and (as detached as I may be) understand the thrill of slinging paint over the walls will become an ashen game at the return of the parent.
By the orthodoxy and the culture underneath, medicine must be given up and the understanding of disease itself as disease—and instead be reworked into the brain, short-circuiting the first contrary thought, as a form of life and miracle blessed upon the body, and the terror of the disease, as well, as a symptom of sickness caused by conception of bearing a miracle. I am terrified that I will die, says the patient, and the physician glitters in the dark before lowering a gloved hand upon the shoulder, saying, Good:
These pains you bear are a miracle unto you, and to share these pains with others is a sin, dear patient; as communication from the torso tells me, as it will tell you, the reason for our miracle to exist is to make our patients gravid with a dual purpose: to conceive connection, and to conceive a disconnection; Etiquette is the ether our listening material installs within us who listen, and Etiquette installs itself within the mind as an active resistance to the connective outcome, and, by elimination, cede more territory of the self to the disconnective outcome; and, dear patient, to experience the terror of a simple health fear is itself a precious phenomenon that, through this byproduct fear, causes a seeking of sympathy of others, and, though itself harmless, is a seed to further tangle the self around the teeth of an invisible connective creature that makes its meal one of sympathies; an active resistance is to work at reframing this period of gravidity as just-so: that the patient carries within them a precious child, that risks itself becoming a contice for death, though we already shed our spirits daily in small dustings and each are destined to be one day completely bald of spirit, and ought this child and parent both themselves be lives to love; the terror with you, dear patient, is a gift, and a fleeting lifeform that must be protected by you, from the caustic world outside—even at risk of your own body; that tightening of veins within your side, the pressure within your head, the numbness flowing down the left side of your face: these are only symptoms of carrying a child, miraculously born within you, and, the child itself will not be born invisible, but would die invisible itself should you allow neuroses to consume the embryo before it should even grow; and should it be born? It will exist as proof of your shedding of spirit, and complete return to a perfect material—when my dear patient loses dear patient and only becomes itself Body—and, shall itself, exist in this new form: brought into the world by release from Body, and shall feed upon the viscera of Body as if that mass were its last belly full of placenta. And (the physician raises a finger, to make a point) byproduct of the relationship is that the sympathetic connective child shall not be conceived.
As an ideal I understood, and as an example I struggle.
this article is part of the Parables found on the Concordance