A Welcome Message

from Bayo

Once, we supposed that by burrowing into the world, and taking things apart, we would eventually arrive at pure essences, at unbequeathed virgins hidden behind thick layered harems of dust, grime and exactitude. At the heart of the matter. When we ‘arrived’ there, it wasn’t a holy calmness we found: in the material world, the electron touched herself in perverse sensuality – neither here nor there, frolicking with virtualities, teasing the impossible, mocking our gaze; in the intellectual world, we surveyed the ancient ruins of Reason, overrun by visiting hordes from less austere realms; in the moral world, where we supposed ‘love’ to be the resolute bedrock for all things, we noticed a queer undergrowth, a flourishing carnality of considerations. Mere chaos.

In other words, we are finding that the heart of the matter is not a simple creed, stable ground, conquering Truth, or an exalted state. And that there is nothing ‘pure’ or finished about the world. The heart knows something we don’t – and this is that one and one often equals less; that life cannot be computed in terms of ends and purposes; that the idea that our lives are a lone feverish hunt for happiness is a conspiratorial compromise and, as such, what we all want and long for is not given or uncontested; and that behind the curtains, when the neon lights flicker out and our masks come off, when the candle-stained scripts rest exhausted from all the handling, our most astonishing fear is ourselves – strange, perverse, wild, indeterminate, and powerful. If we touched the heart of the matter, it wouldn’t be satisfaction we will feel. When the saints go marching in, it isn’t eternal rest they will find. Nothing is still or settled. The heart of the matter is a gasp, a bleeding cut, a haptic involution, a self-touching encounter, an event horizon that takes us in and belches us out in stranger versions of where we first began.tranquility

In a world where intentionality, agency, causality, learning and memory can no longer be safely ensconced away in the fleshy caverns of human be-ing – and at a time when modern civilization, our cherished binaries, our institutions, and our cultural lexicons are unfurling at their seams, grappling with resolute impasses and spinning black holes – I offer these dances with the preposterous. This website. This very material yearning for a world more at peace than the stories of infinite growth allow; a world more alive than can be accommodated in the anorexic confines of Newtonian imagination; a world more just than the exhausted binaries and tired clashes between ‘good’ and ‘evil’; a world where ‘I’ am home with Lali. With our daughter, Alethea. With the preposterous.

Welcome.

Adebayo Akomolafe

Poet. Philosopher. Psychologist. Professor. Passionate about the Preposterous.

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Worshipping Lali

Nagasaki

Today, like 3 days before in 1945 Hiroshima, marks the 75th anniversary of the American deployment and detonation of the “Fat Man” nuclear bomb over the city of Nagasaki. Those apocalyptic moments, in the thick of a ferocious World War, mirror our ongoing struggles to defeat a stealthier enemy in the middle of a pandemic. …Continue Reading >>>

Approach

The sacred is not the shining thing at the end of the journey awaiting disclosure; the sacred is the journey: the celebrated departure and tearful goodbyes, the blue skies of optimism that dip in the welcoming horizons, the hint of grey in foreboding clouds, the obstacles that pepper the road with treacherous texture, the marauding …Continue Reading >>>

Baldur’s Body

Baldur, son of Odin and Frigga, brother to Thor, was one of the most beloved and celebrated of all the Norse gods. So loved was he that when he feared for his life, sensing something horrible was soon to befall him, the gods sent Odin to Hel to determine Baldur’s fate from the lips of …Continue Reading >>>

Slowing down as inquiry

More than just reducing speed within the same order and arrangement of things, slowing down is meeting the imperatives of other temporalities disrupting the linear continuity and taken-for-grantedness of modern militaristic time. The only place to do that is at the crossroads. Where are the crossroads? Everywhere around us, in us. There is no dot, …Continue Reading >>>

There is a third gift: Bewilderment

Just do it. Never ever give up. Keep pushing. Always try again. It just takes a little more effort. Whatever you do, don’t lose hope. These are the messages our almost-globalized world streams through pixels, through glossy surfaces, through architecture, through the stories we tell, through speeches of photogenic leaders, through the myths we’ve filtered into …Continue Reading >>>

Falling might very well be flying – without the tyranny of coordinates.
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