"Subjectivity is objective."
I am stepping perilously close to the edge of reason.
What have I gone and done now?
"I have only gone and made an object of myself."
As soon as I give a sign of existence.
Nay, before I give a sign, I am already objectified.
- the one so hoped for.
- the vermin.
- the Prince
- the heir.
- the mistake.
- the loved one.
Darn! It's too late.
I am here now.
"I have gone and made an object of myself!"
You'll forgive me but it ain't all my own doing.
You are responsible for my disappearance.
You are killing me while giving this IT life.
As soon as I get this down on the page, I go and disappear.
You can't know me.
I hastily reread all that I have written.
I no longer recognise myself.
Who is this writer and why won't the bastard leave me alone?
"He's only gone and made an object of me."
So while I may object, I am now a subject of my own study.
I go back and read what I have written.
I don't recognise myself.
I never used to write like this.
No this is a lie.
I never used to write so much like this.
I blame tragedy.
I blame sadness.
I blame the others.
I retraced my step this morning.
It was Jesse Stommel's fault.
Though I admit that he was not at fault.
He left an object lying around.
How careless of him!
In our efforts at scholarly publishing, I'd argue for the opposite of objectivity -- for an intense subjectivity. https://t.co/r1EGKW6iy9— Jesse Stommel (@Jessifer) February 15, 2016
It is my fault.
How was he to know that I would read the bloody tweet.
It is not my fault.
How was I to know that it would somehow make me bloody think.
So I thought, stupidly aloud.
"I went and made an object of myself...again...twice..."Nay! Three times!"
@Jessifer 1/2 is that subjectivity enhanced by personal objectivity or subjectivity enhanced by intuition/emotion?— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 15, 2016
@Jessifer 2/2 or subjectivity enhanced by intersubjective dialogue or all of those, none of those, combinations of those...other?— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 15, 2016
@Jessifer is intense subjectivity about self or 'not-self' https://t.co/mU8tYQrM3G @Bali_Maha @NomadWarMachine @slamteacher ?— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 15, 2016
That really set the cat amongst the pigeons.
Jesse Stommel replied...more than once.
@sensor63 @Bali_Maha @NomadWarMachine @slamteacher "No one person owns a story, but sung as history in a community..." (1/2)— Jesse Stommel (@Jessifer) February 15, 2016
@sensor63 I think "intense subjectivity," a phrase I keep finding myself using, is really about collective subjectivity.— Jesse Stommel (@Jessifer) February 15, 2016
@sensor63 Letting all the things sit (comfortably and uncomfortably) next to one another. Not policing boundaries. But allowing friction.— Jesse Stommel (@Jessifer) February 15, 2016
Then Sarah Honeychurch ploughed in...twice!
@sensor63 @Jessifer @Bali_Maha @slamteacher wow. So much to think about with diff ways of eliminating self— Sarah Honeychurch (@NomadWarMachine) February 15, 2016
@sensor63 @Jessifer @Bali_Maha @slamteacher Was reading Hume today, and Deleuze on Hume. pic.twitter.com/2vUfpvalWp— Sarah Honeychurch (@NomadWarMachine) February 15, 2016
I wake up this morning with matter to make my head ache.
I retrace steps and tweet what seems relevant back to Jesse and the others.
All of this is Beyond Me.
All of this is Beyond the MeMe.
@Jessifer @Bali_Maha @NomadWarMachine @slamteacher On love and absence. Beyond The Meme. https://t.co/UMhwmP3nNO— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 16, 2016
All of this is Beyond Us.
@Jessifer ´Our limits are constantly being redrawn. Who are we now?´@telliowkuwp https://t.co/TM0FsmQxDf and https://t.co/L98VmYohc5— Simon Ensor (@sensor63) February 16, 2016
I note with surprise the books that I am reading at the moment:
Thomas Picketty. Capital in the 21st Century.
Bell Hooks. All about Love
How did that come about?
Surely those are not the sort of books I read!
I don't recognise myself.
I note an article to return to:
Carl Ratner. Subjectivity and Objectivity in Qualitative Methodology
All this, I suspect, is about love (to write on), and the poetry of our futile science.
A final note perhaps?