I have a dream that one day we will sense the Real implication of Black. We will realize that all the light illuminating the particulars of our World is not the savior which frees us from blackness. Rather light is the autistic child of the Black Universe. Unborn but multilaterally expressive.
The autism of light is our access to the World. And so are we likewise autistic with regard to the Black. Every communication we engage in will be set back by the blackness that lies beyond our access.
But this setting back is not to be compared with a nullification. Rather it is an equalization with reference to the Black Universe.
We sense the implications. The dream we have contains a kaleidoscopic richness of expressions which are highly flexible concerning their position. Positions are always relative and leap according to the prevailing context.
So my enthusiasm for weird literature, for Franz Kafka, Bruno Schulz, Italo Calvino, Stefan Grabinski, Sadegh Hedayat, Alfred Kubin, Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Clark Ashton Smith, Thomas Ligotti, just to name a few figures from my kaleidoscopic dreams, are not an escape into a dreamland.
They are simply part of the dream we are all dreaming together. We open our eyes and awake to a lucid dream. There is nothing but blackness in front of our eyes. And due to our dream state we realize that this blackness is all we hoped for.
The Black Universe renders all our expressions bottomless so that we are in immediate contact with the gravitational waves coming from the blackest deeps. No Worldly ground will shield us. Thank blackness!
And so wonder will always be on our side. We make music with Erich Zann, we fly with the blind owl, we go walkies with Butz, Schopenhauer’s poodle, et patati et patata.
Our potentialities are without limit, as are our means of expression.
In the end I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to François Laruelle, my inspiration for these thoughts.
To be continued…