What's 'a Matter Wid U?
It's something I never really thought about until someone made a really egregious pun on my name which I shall not repeat in polite company. Of course, as an alchemist, my business is alchemy - the conversion of matter into other forms and states as a metaphor for the spiritual condition; and as above, so below - and as below, so above. The former is alchemy, the latter is theurgy.
Strangely enough, I remember one of my earliest answers to that question was when I was fifteen. My good one-day-would-become-a-Jesuit friend JohnP asked me that in a pissy-fit and I replied, "Somebody who weaves really small carpets." Got a loud groan and a kick for that. Yes, I did indeed get a kick out of it.
So, back to names. The doctrine of signatures says roughly that the true name is the true nature; one true name to one complete description. I think it was the first presentiment, if you like, of the unique key concept. It follows then that if you could only decipher the code, you would be able to access true knowledge. The Platonic archetype is therefore one half of the puzzle: if you can access that, you have the true nature. The problem is the access.
Why would anyone want that? Well, if you knew the true name for 'Lion', you could say it and a Lion would appear. A real one, not a mangy African scavenger, but a Platonic lion, that ideal creature to which the stars would bow down and the animal kingdom would pay homage. In this material age, true names would be more powerful than the puny forces of copyright; they would be God's templates for free creation. Sadly, Godel came along and essentially said that true names probably wouldn't work.
But do names have power? Yes, they do. They affect people's perception of us. Let's develop this idea.
I remember my father gleefully telling this 'true story' about his maternal uncle. At a dance, Uncle's wife-to-be asked him, "What's your name?" "Oh." "Oh?" "Oh." At which point, she thought, "Goodness, this fellow's not too bright." She must have shown that on her face, because his next line was, "My surname is Oh." Ouch. Lame has nothing on it.
Further, imagine someone whose name is Bill. "Any important mail?" "No, just a Bill." Poor man, diminished and emasculated with one short exchange of words! Or maybe, Frank. "Are you Frank?" "Not always, but let me be Frank with you." Or the much-abused Tom, Dick and Harry.
JohnP once said to me, in one of his 'this is a stealthy but very bad pun' moods, "Hey, your name is so appropriate." "Why?" "You keep making all these catalogues of things, I mean, 50 words which mean 'blue', 20 teachers who would be great dungeon monsters, and stuff like that." "What's that got to do with my name?" Big grin. Long pause. "Well, it means that you're a..." He got a real kick out of that. In fact, you might say, he had a ball of a time.
Strangely enough, I remember one of my earliest answers to that question was when I was fifteen. My good one-day-would-become-a-Jesuit friend JohnP asked me that in a pissy-fit and I replied, "Somebody who weaves really small carpets." Got a loud groan and a kick for that. Yes, I did indeed get a kick out of it.
So, back to names. The doctrine of signatures says roughly that the true name is the true nature; one true name to one complete description. I think it was the first presentiment, if you like, of the unique key concept. It follows then that if you could only decipher the code, you would be able to access true knowledge. The Platonic archetype is therefore one half of the puzzle: if you can access that, you have the true nature. The problem is the access.
Why would anyone want that? Well, if you knew the true name for 'Lion', you could say it and a Lion would appear. A real one, not a mangy African scavenger, but a Platonic lion, that ideal creature to which the stars would bow down and the animal kingdom would pay homage. In this material age, true names would be more powerful than the puny forces of copyright; they would be God's templates for free creation. Sadly, Godel came along and essentially said that true names probably wouldn't work.
But do names have power? Yes, they do. They affect people's perception of us. Let's develop this idea.
I remember my father gleefully telling this 'true story' about his maternal uncle. At a dance, Uncle's wife-to-be asked him, "What's your name?" "Oh." "Oh?" "Oh." At which point, she thought, "Goodness, this fellow's not too bright." She must have shown that on her face, because his next line was, "My surname is Oh." Ouch. Lame has nothing on it.
Further, imagine someone whose name is Bill. "Any important mail?" "No, just a Bill." Poor man, diminished and emasculated with one short exchange of words! Or maybe, Frank. "Are you Frank?" "Not always, but let me be Frank with you." Or the much-abused Tom, Dick and Harry.
JohnP once said to me, in one of his 'this is a stealthy but very bad pun' moods, "Hey, your name is so appropriate." "Why?" "You keep making all these catalogues of things, I mean, 50 words which mean 'blue', 20 teachers who would be great dungeon monsters, and stuff like that." "What's that got to do with my name?" Big grin. Long pause. "Well, it means that you're a..." He got a real kick out of that. In fact, you might say, he had a ball of a time.
etched with acid at 11:34:00 pm
2 Comments:
the two greatest architect's in the world are called frank.
one is the one whom my father fell in love with: Frank Lloyd Wright, whose work I've never actually stopped to admire and fall in love with properly, but I hear Falling Waters is good, and I like water, and I like falling.
the other is the one whom I feel in love with through a chic-magazine: Frank Ghery. =) Omg, Tiffany jewellery pwns. Plus, he's like totally designing the IR.
and i don't get it...
~looks perplexed~
...although I, too like to make lists. One of my lists - how to say shit in all the different languages.
Post a Comment
<< Home