On Categories

April 24, 2010

Categories are dislikeable. For more reasons than a lingering adolescence. The contradiction of the statement puts one into something of a brain-rage, and liquid flows freely. The sensation is not unlike the burn from repeated exercise of a muscle. Still, it’s hardly fair to put this down to categories.

When you set yourself up to put your finger on a cause, or point it so as to better blame something, the finger almost takes on a life of it’s own. Let me have at this, and put it anywhere!

Such dangers of having divided our process up in such a way. We can feel we’ve done the necessary groundwork. Our analyst makes a poor judgement, and our seer a poor prescription. With all the weight of authority behind them.

There is merit in slower thinking.

The same applies to other intercourses, where some would burst during or right after the initial play of acquaintance. Lessons can be borrowed from this structure. We may reaccquaint ourself with the idea of the immature – so ripe to explode that it takes a mere thought or suggestion. Or with the mechanical and methodical, lasting inhumanely long. With whom all is painful.

Such facets are known implicitly, when we speak on such topics as politics, which to be represented truthfully would require some of the dullest prose. When we speak to those who forget as quickly as they anger. Or to those who would belabour a point, replete with statistics and resplendent in method. We truly believe neither of them anyway.

If my ship of words were to jump up into metaspace, that more frustratingly abstractive orbital trajectory, it might notice that re-applying the filter of “On Categories” places this in the antithetical category. It is anchored, thankfully, in our minds with the term “Irrelevance”.

To finally make the point:

This missive is a plea for traction.

A request for some categories to write about.