[please redial your call (except you don't mind it or give anybody the creeps worrying about hiding that you mind it so nobody's feelings will be hurt)]

Sunday, 15 May 2011

eyes shut

For a human being it is impossible to have an absolute conscience of himself. If indeed it were not so, then he would feel so intolerably alone that he would immediately die of it. [1]

And then he writes:

'As the two vibrations combined, it was as if a large billowing shape came billowing out of some corner in my mind. I can be no more precise than to say large, dark, shape, and billowing, what came flapping out of some backwater of my psyche I had not had the slightest inkling was there.'

'But it was inside you, though.'

'Katherine, Kate, it was total horror. It was all horror everywhere, distilled and given form. It rose in me, out of me, summoned somehow by the odd confluence of he fan and those notes. It rose and grew larger and became engulfing and more horrible than I shall ever have the power to convey. I dropped my violin and ran from the room.'[2]

It's like having an object ok, to make it simpler, it's like having a surface meshed into let's say triangles in such a way that the parameters of these triangles - like the internal angles, the lengths of the edges and so on - have to be comprehended into previously estabilished interval of values, and based on whether a triangle of the mesh fullfils there requirements, it is rejected or hold. So at each step we re-mesh the triangles that had been rejected. However with a trick: that we re-mesh not only the failed triangles, but also all the triangles adjacent to these triangles. Why? This is the point: without the trick, then it'd be like one gets only one failed triangle, but without the possibility of re-meshing its adjacent triangles along with it as well, then it'd be impossible to re-mesh and it'd be forever doome. Forever. Doomed. Condemned to this inacceptable state of not being acceptable, still of not having the possibility to be improved. So yes, it's like being judged to life (or to death).

[1]: see also claustrophoby.
[2]: 'Infinite Jest', David Foster Wallace.

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