Even Further

by Endgame

Created on May 23, 1998


Shine with real light, not borrowed reflection.

Common men are apologies for men.


The Mythic Front

In the inherent synchroneity that is presumed in the Intuitionist's basis for perception - my comments have been unfolding throughout the last month and echo or refute the recent Ramble within that framework alone by chance. ---Endgame

The human experience can only be described from the myriad fragmented views that compose it, innate figments of unity cloaked within processions of our uniform cadence, often content to sway the flagpole regardless of the flag. We willingly or unwittingly contribute to the sojourn of our colleagues and by extension to those whom each might influence. Our meager efforts portray ourselves as archetypes or grand practitioners in feeble misguided moments flailing with craven talonless claws at the realm of wonder discovering it a sheet of glass not sheer surrendering fabric. Time and again we maneuver our wills in order to cause the enemy to bend into a shape consistent with our visions and objectives.

Yet, within this construct we weave our common threads, wear our colorless uniforms and on occasion banter with identical inflection - both the Muse and mystery of community. We expect no less from our "artificially created environment" than we do of the model we combat most often, to conform to a fashion that adheres to our intrinsic personal understandings of the field. Over the last few weeks I attempted, with some reservation, an analysis of the schools of thought in play and represented by the various personnel in service who continue to enrich the mythic front wherein we wage our wars.

Each of the Generals here seem to offer a distinctive valuable character to our environment and thereby increasing its value and offering the hope of mutually adding value beyond persona, principles of war, and stratagem. We are at times shadowed adamant adherents of tentative doctrine reluctant to test our fortitude or faith beyond inference and speculation. Timid soldiers clinging to secluded ideologies fearful of competing perceptions. Validate the scenario and it is enabled for play, validate the creator and his mythos must be compared to our own.

On other occasions we are radiant zealots pronouncing vehement judgment on our postulations with an unexplained aggression as sudden as the thud of the lion's paw upon its prey. Instinctively, we are as much the animal as the one with which we war. It would be difficult to argue that an element of victory often relies on the "killer instinct" that allows us to pursue the objective, rightly seen, at its decisive moment when doing less would reduce our conquering margin or alter its possibility.

Therein originated my reluctance: consequences problematic to community, nonetheless a natural part of its progression. When one begins to define divisions, assign perspectives, and disseminate categorization it is the "paint made flesh" as General Bobb pointed out to me - the word turned poignant, personal, or prophetic. Once sighted, named upon that hill - the allegiance at once transforms to ally and adversary.

In my thick-with-myself presumptuousness, I elected to abandoned further discourse, learning enough at least for now: Art unfolds the artist's or author's intention and perception relies in part on the authority of the designer to transcend ambiguity and insularity to fulfill subjective and personal obligations to communicate aim apart from seeking meritorious collective favor. Additionally, a systematic inquiry into the personalities and present warring philosophies gracing our page resisted, if not defied, definitive division. While we might remotely in our presentations share a pluralistic vantage, the individual remains elusive-- masking essentially the inferences of conceptualist, realist, minimalist, logician, naturalist, intuitionist, illusionist, or expositor. The word community is easier said than dissected. We each partake and return to the process - without one the whole is diminished.


Tertium Quid - The Third Something

In a specific sense there are always two elements at play or duel with one another. Dual aspects vying with dynamic intensities for proprietary rule. Habitually, we tend to polarize these distinctions into a simplest format: opponent versus opponent, action and reaction, plan and execution, tactics and strategy, right and wrong, etc... While our interconnectedness results in the structure of any combination of governing opinions, function, role, or position - ultimately the pervasive and lasting influence occurs within the middle ground - the third something - fulfilling the collective course. Where our conversation and thoughts lay, and where they converge confirming temporal truths and exposing historical hypocrisies.

As our dualistic exchanges unwind, we perceive ourselves gradually included or excluded, succeeding or failing, privileged or marginalized, and in rare insightful moments - changing. In Earl's play or a Guestbook post, personal quiet reflections of recently presented theory, or while digesting a recent Ramble - within the specific context of TPG2 it is access to the collective that specifically changes or extends the isolated and singular self.

A variety of approaches and systems of knowledge and understanding compete, conflict, contradict, or integrate with one another within the process. We conceptualize beyond the present instability or discord and working through the collision of ideas begin to define subjectively a new ordered identity from which to base future endeavors and trials. Emerging on the battlefield is the Third General commanding the combinative forces of aspect, exposure, and reflection. Little of what we bring to the fray leaves unaltered.

The gradual change that has been unfolding within our progressive community is that which naturally arises from assimilation battling integration or in a less forceful manner the blended homogeny of diverse origins. Plausibly a myth in itself. We are no longer a culture of innocence journeying together toward one destination. The insoluble form of nature does not allow freedom in cohesion. It provokes a conflictive spirit of challenging or stimulating conditions focused in function to arrive at form: individual talent arising from chaotic populace masquerading as collective agreement. A necessary and integral path from the simple to the complex. Participation, understanding, creation, community, designer and scenario, all in turn join the queue.

Finally, no distinct line separates successive contributions and offers the luxury of immutable demarcations. All become interrelated and give rise to one another - original things colliding becoming new things. Progressively the third general adds to armament as often as he struggles to disarm us. We conclude our activities manifestations of our infinitely evasive nature. This mystic insolubility survives in separate talented creative abilities, and returns in integrated contributions, collective assessments, preserving the essential character of the uncommon men contriving them.


Shadowing the Future Force of Diversity

It is probable then that a scenario, the game, environment or culture, one particular participant or a single post may, as Anonymous General proffers, "evince a different set of reactions...than...other commentators." Some describe their wars, others their coherent detailed plans. Some allow us an unrestricted and unsolicited excursion within a cognitive landscape, others provide us nothing and risk the same.

Methodologies, ideologies, principles and process. We each bring and become something new to each day, each endeavor. Doubtful I will ever be drenched in a raining creativity or offer the frolic or enthusiasm of a Pense. I am seldom interrupted by the "spurious, neat idea." Dano's deliberateness, his stoic determination to create a premium contribution and deliver in the aftermath his precise, confident, strategical assertions surpass my ability. RT's innate cleverness and ingenuity or Drew's personal command of ordered event and succinct objective both elude my attachment or emulation. Captain Kev brings an imaginative and insouciant willingness to explore without reservation unlike my cautious optimism and untiring necessary vigilance.

I am not privy to, nor can I regain, the new experience of General Bobb's corporeal elucidations or CoKe's fine first endeavors. More certain I will never acquire an Anonymous General's laser-like clarity or surgically evaluative expositions. It would gain me nothing to suddenly develop Rommel's technical command of infrastructure, clothing the words like stacks of bones to stand at attention for dress inspection. He remains unequaled in honor, respect, and homage for both his continued process within these pages and his command contributions directing growth. To emulate his logical prowess would be my detriment, undoing a balanced continuum we have occupied now for many years would as suddenly launch my end heavenward.

I remain an observer, a watchful pseudo-seer with a propensity toward the scenario of human development within societal structures largely undue the celebrity deserving my fellow Generals. Duty bound, we all exist in various levels of service - from the unnoticed casualty to the vigilant regimented officer. From frontline engagement to inactive status allowing comment without cause. Wherever we fall, whoever we are, we remain a corp d'elite wherein I serve unashamed. Once again in the words of our own Anonymous,

"You could do better, but you'd hafta be pretty lucky."

Respectfully,

ColEndgame


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