Showing posts with label I. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

it & I

In English, we capitalize pronouns when they refer to divinity. We call Jesus & th Buddha He & Him, & when they speak, they say Me & My. We don't capitalize pronouns otherwise, except for when they appear at th beginning of a sentence, & whenever we write th tiny word I. Does this mean that we recognize ourselves as divine, but no other beings, not th its, th yous, th shes in our lives? We don't even capitalize 'me', implying, perhaps, that we recognize our own divinity only when we speak of ourselves as agents of a sentence, & not when we objectify ourselves. What a special word, this I.

So what happens if I write about It & Her, You, We & Us?

Interestingly, we have just started in recent years to call ourselves lowercase 'i'. What does this say about how we feel about ourselves & our relationship to th divine?

^ Bad linguistics, I know, but maybe a worthwhile writing experiment....

Monday, March 23, 2009

I wants.

A poem written by my friend Susan P:

I wants.

I pushes me: this causes a personality (in) me.

Me goes along with it, jumps onto it, actually sweats it, writes lists,
worries it along, trying to accomplish something.

Meanwhile, with no personality but want, I loses interest;
I sees things moving but always away from I.

I makes events, me reports them, following along like
Spencer Tracy/Katherine Hepburn of the movies.
Me, the tough newspaperman in a raincoat, huddled over a payphone, reporting;
I, running ahead, erratic, in a golden evening dress torn and splashed with mud.

Monday, March 10, 2008

I am th absolute source

I like this sentence very much, from Maurice Merleau-Ponty's Phenomenology of Perception:

I am, not a 'living creature' nor even a 'man', nor again even 'a consciousness' endowed with all th characteristics which zoology, social anatomy or inductive psychology recognize in these various products of th natural or historical process -- I am th absolute source, my existence does not stem from my antecedents, from my physical & social environment; instead it moves out toward them & sustains them, for I alone bring into being for myself (& therefore into being in th only sense that th word can have for me) th tradition which I elect to carry on, or th horizon whose distance from me would be abolished -- since that distance is not one of its properties -- if I were not there to scan it with my gaze.