Now, if again I said, “I’m writing another blog post on __________” it would probably not generate the sort of playful comments the first did. It would get old, fast. And die. That is strange, to me.
And yet, if I wrote another blog post on Whatever, it would somehow generate laughter, consternation, frustration (“What is he saying?”), insight, and so on.
What is the text for, then, in today’s blogified-commenty world? Are we so desperate for conversation? Can we even bound off the noise, and create space for silence?
How far can we reduce the text (to a blank line?) and still generate metatext? It would seem like whatever people call “The Church” is indeed currently engaged in this sort of experiment: reducing text down to minimal phrases to be posted on “Social media” and then allowing others to generate metatext in these and other spaces. But we don’t get silence from this.
What emerges, other than conflict, smug satisfaction, and all the evil that characterizes so much of our mean, lowly blog conversation? Light?
How far can someone reduce the phrases? Down to nouns: The Prophet(s), The Apostles, Obedience, Faith… They aren’t saying anything, no matter how sincerely breathed out. They are creating darkness, where there is not the Light. In these cases, they aren’t using language, but a corrupted facsimile of language. Their minds are darkened, and I have not the means to bring to it any Light.
Those whose minds are darkened have done something to turn away from the Light. A conscious choice to unbelieve, perhaps, which could be just as reasonably believed. Or doubting their own senses, and relying on the voices of the (dubiously) Powerful.
Yet, they are able to generate endless metatext (most of it not Language), despite seldom creating text consisting of Language. Strange, how a blank line can generate language, and then hierarchies, good-and-bad guys, misunderstanding, further explanation, forgiveness, and so on. See the comments from the last post, if you doubt.
I really don’t have anything else to say, I suppose, for now.
I don’t have answers to questions about the Book of Mormon or The Corporation, at least that I’ve not already published. I hear questions whose answers are already and readily available. I’m not interested in guessing why such-and-such is the case, or shaming or honoring so-and-so. Generally I would say: Keep reading. Or enter deeper into another’s darkness.
It is just here, at this point in my life. And blogs are not conducive to sharing that “it is here.” So I’m taking a break, until I have something to say to someone reading this blog, something other a prayer for unborrowed light. In the heart of the Living is a fire of pure Light, and bounds are set to this light, lest it destroy as a flood all that is not Light. Through the fire, through the flame, you won’t even say your name. You say I am that I am. In our remaining Darkness we might shape the images of things, and set about worshipping these images, as though they might illuminate our darkness, or give us eternal life. But the Darkness is more than an absence of the Light where we might be free of its truth. It is an Unlight, a perversion of the Light which nonetheless (and because of its nature) will receive Light, and will give it back to us as an image, or an Idol. These Idols bound up the Light, as in a stone with a secret name, or flesh that survives on borrowed light, say, from a strawberry. I can’t write it, in other words. It is just here.