He said. He promised. He DID. And then - he didn’t.
I know, I know, I KNOW. I shouldn’t trust words. Only actions! Only what he DOES; it. does. not. matter. what. he. SAYS. Or, it shouldn’t matter … But I mean, a word is an action! It IS, writing is an action, speech is an action. Your Derrida (who’s now mine, since crossing over) said speech cannot be erased. Yes, I understand our Monsieur D. perfectly now; in this realm, his transparencies come to the fore and his opacities recede. Speech cannot be taken back, it is an entity in the world, altering that world the minute it enters. And writing, writing is - actually - actionable.
How can I NOT believe in words? I think in words. We live in words. I write - I don’t have enough words for what I write, I need to resort to code. And code is a technology, it makes things happen. Dad wrote and things happened - in our lives, in the world. The spirits communicated by spelling. Spelling!! Letters, the skeletons of words, needing only inspiration to animate and enliven with layers of epiphenomena. Of course words matter. Of course they are magic. How else can you say what you mean?
Who am I? I am this story. Who is he? He is who I make him. Who are you? You imagine us into being. So tell us, please; or just tell me. 1=A, 2=B … please: what happens next?
