Put a Gun to my head and I'll Improve

Mission Improbable

Put a gun to my head & I must & will
 demonstrate & document evidence
of improvement & proof of continuing
improvement of my mission  whether
I actually improve or not makes no
never mind & is irrelevant. This is
liberalarts assessment: improvement
uber alles. 

Dear Transcendentals and Colleagues Across
the Curriculum (Courses w/o Borders Series),
 
After "class" I generally feel compelled to clean
up what ever collateral damage is done 2nd half
by the loopy, digressive, transgressive, sometimes
spiral non-linear constellations of ideas, images,
notions, challenges, perplexities,  impossibilities
that are (on a good day) generated by the Chaos
& Anarchy of  2^nd-half of class—the time I
characterize as Life of the Body  Politic, a time
some of you wisely leave in order to tend to practical
getRdone demands and I don’t blame you one bit
—which is why the option is available
 
Can you imagine, being FORCED to sit  thru
our loose, non-directive, agenda-less,
non-purposive exercise? Play?
 
It’s uncanny & antithetical to the norm and I
appreciate any who find  it generative, personally
provoking and engaging. That's the idea, hope,
mission impossible.
  
I was thinking this morning about someone decrying
originality: that no one is original, we’re all copy-
cats even as we often bend over backwards to
be different, damnit.  Well, it came to me, during
the first half of class (the “life of the minding,” part I
call it) that we swim in agenda, purpose, tradition,
discipline, culture, convention always in media res—
in the middle of  ongoing things—so that the notion
of an origin and originating and originality is eclipsed
if not occluded from our purpose-driven lives. 
 
In every class-of-mine:  we move into an  atmosphere
of chaos --emptiness:  time for reading&writing has
slowly slipped past, and yet we haven’t converged
or reconfigured into TALK-in-AIR & the Body Politic.
 
A great yawning gap sometimes  enlarges—nothing
happening, nothing filling it, filtering it.
That’s chaos.

And there’s no leader to obscure  that chaos (which
is always there, by the way, like wet to Joe Fish: we
swim in a chaos eclipsed by our agenda & aims
and measurable goals) .
That’s anarchy:
leader-less-ness..
 
Then someone—J__ in this case— says
"well, who-in-the-fuck-gives-a- shit," and that,
dear readers, is original: originating, instigating,
inaugurating, authorizing the beginnings of the
Universe of our Converse-Action.

IN the beginnings  the Word, yes?

Originality and originating and origins are so pervasive
that we can’t hardly conceive of how we are originating
all the time.  We're all wet, as it were--clueless as to
the meaning of damp. We're all chaos, unable to consider
the nature of the YAWN in which we "swim" to mix
metaphors and no body likes a quibbler. 
 
Needs an immaculate conception (news  from beyond)
and/or a trauma (ooo my gawd) to inform and register
how original we are by nature.  Stifle it  if you want.
Sit on it—your originating-ness.  Never the less.
You are.You do. Need we argue?
 
Walk on Eggs (WOE) or Walk on Water( WOW):
choose your  mission impossible,  your allegiance,
your over all team & frame of minding.  Document
and demonstrate your improvement.

xxxooo, yrs in transcendentisry.. 
Sam..