When it comes to Plato, Kant, Hegel and a whole bunch of others, some of them English Speaking disciples of the Enlightenment, those of us who share the quest for a tie wearing Grail of Reason, find ourselves accusing those of the Romantic Vision, along with the Woe is me Existentialists and anyone who claims to be uniquely spiritual and/or creative, of being pit dwelling, hat wearing blobs with very little going for them.
And I say this as someone who owns a deep respect for the world as it might have been during the Paleolithic period, the several million years before the farmers messed with our lifestyle and just twelve thousand years ago turned us Neolithic, a paltry description for twenty-five thousand years of poor nutrition, shorter lives, more diseases, social stratification and conflict over land ownership.
The point is you can't touch the Romantics without submitting to an understanding of all that and the Taoist Way. "Once I was a butterfly, fluttering this way and that, then I woke up and saw that I was a man. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man." Good pothead Neolithic stuff, the dreamworld and the first rational question: "What is Real?"
For Taoists the answer came this way: both dream and awake is part of a larger unified flow. Or as Can Bobby would tell you, dream and awake for a Taoist are just "different frequencies of experience." Worth noting that if Can Bobby ever feels anything it'll be a different frequency.
Go ahead, sneer away as you dream of an event in Bethlehem which has badly messed with calendar for two thousand years. But rest assured if you were in Western Australia thirty five thousand years ago, you'd settle down for the night and while asleep you'd left the shell and traveled to a small, often permanent, body of water you hadn't visited for years, and spotted a tree that had fallen over or a spring that had dried up, then, according to the law, there was a good chance you owned that billabong. And why on earth? Well, dream time was real.
In the 1960's, as we beatniks were being overwhelmed by hippies, traveling while asleep was called Astral Planing, but trust me in those days justice had been well sterilized and Astral Planing didn't hold up in court even if prior to the English Invasion it had always been a custom and practice, and a god given right of the Welsh Speaking Peoples.
So we got what Can Bobby refers to as a "permeable membrane" between sleeping and waking. The Romantics embraced the permeability of that membrane. Here there's a sentiment that's sort of from Genesis. It goes something like this: 'The Children of Sodom have lost the right to Petition Fate."
They were doomed. Man, woman and child, all of them doomed. I don't know about Jesus or the Holy Spirit but an overly sensitive God the Father felt badly ignored, he had to set an example, and he'd have no mercy on them. Romantics, might have described the Sodomites, and the Gomorrahites, as stuck in the light of the sun. A light that only showed boundaries not connections.
Alcoholics have a cure, they say sorry, admit to their sin and submit to a higher power. It's very romantic and rather ironic way to deal with the higher power of alcohol.
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