F̶I̶R̶S̶T̶ ̶G̶A̶T̶E̶/̶F̶I̶R̶S̶T̶ ̶W̶O̶R̶L̶D̶

[Montgomery77]

F̶I̶R̶S̶T̶ ̶G̶A̶T̶E̶/̶F̶I̶R̶S̶T̶ ̶W̶O̶R̶L̶D̶

"Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past."

"Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world."

Blades. Echoes. We will displace and further a p**** or promontory where Elliot goes beyond his own poetics of "Time-Logy.'

This will be achieved by a certain way of occupying an arbour in the rose garden of Norton Manor.


What is known as "Now", where all ghosts of temporality, all "time pasts and time futures", are reconciled in this "ultimate point", remains haunted, in its unity, in its fixity, in its "point"- by the first [Zero] Gate and First[Zero] World, the musical silence filling our ears in Autumn heat.

In this Rose Garden and pool of reflection, we never had here a mere discourse on unity of pricks in time. There was always the occulted "Non" movement of P̶r̶e̶_̶C̶o̶m̶p̶r̶e̶h̶e̶n̶d̶e̶d̶(̶?̶)̶ ̶A̶n̶t̶i̶t̶y̶(̶?̶)̶, invisible and dignified, Brahmanical eyebeams- encrypted in the very excess of pricks without "points" - watching over this great bowl of roses.



The Point is a unit of time where the Now, or events as such occur; a blade whose tapering end subjects all oppositions of "arrest and movement" to a gigantic Oneness or Arche. The nature of the point is always not to be itself; rather, it expels all "modes of being" in a dance: "At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,There would be no dance, and there is only the dance."

Everything in this passage- from its axial center to its conical ascensions- is dis_located from the order of logic and linearity. Inertia without fixity. Beyond ascension and its other. The ballerina pointe or (pre)geometric blade opens up the flesh dance.


Nor is it "non-linear".

Rather, like a kind of luxated axis- Mundi, * "a symbol that can operate at a multiple of centers at once", the "still point" (if we must call it that still) moves in the intricacies of the navel (omphalos) or opening out of classical schemes.


*Mircea Eliade (tr. Philip Mairet). 'Symbolism of the Centre' in Images and Symbols. Princeton, 1991. ISBN 069102068X. p.39)

The point of the point then, cannot be pointed to. Rather, by operating in a arbour where only (un)heard and (un)seen guests move in empty alleys -between all binary axes and axle-trees- the blade of the still point always pointed to an_other Gate.

In other words, the still point "where past and future are gathered" was never constructed upon the geometry or music "positions" - the constituted notes of musical harmonies- but , in this light, this ultimate moment, the point and Now, where all other divided realities conjoin in paradoxical intersection,(is) the only "mark"'outside of all moments, all "units", "positions", the point is , in fact, always point-less.




________________________________



At the threshold of the First(?) Gate and its other side.

The p**** or point is, to cut into the other side of the gate and envision its territory even before going in. But this cutting into, this exploration of the blade, reveals that we are already on the other side, but encrypted in a kind of quantum womb and double mirror.

Or is it the Decimal point of arithmetic that "separates the whole from the fraction", the virginal and enigmatic " First World" from our "known" reality? The Great Axis that, being in itself unity incarnate- transcending all flesh and fleshlessness- allows the movement of all binary terms in their natural, harmonious dialectic. Such is the conclusion of "theological" and " philosophical" systems in their classical code.

I refuse-in regards to the system- to de_limit the NON to that massive harmony. My joy is that of the blade and pointe, a carving apart and disjointed ballet. Sapphire. Axle-Trees. Arbours