God remembered Noah, all those alive, and all the animals with him in the ark. God sent a wind over the earth so that the waters receded. The springs of the deep sea and the skies closed up. The skies held back the rain. The waters receded gradually from the earth. After one hundred fifty days, the waters decreased; and in the seventh month, on the seventeenth day, the ark came to rest on the Ararat mountains. – Genesis 8.1-4 CEB

Mournwest. Present-tense. Into the eternal, do you see the erising? I barely know you, lost-one. I. I. I the I. I fail. My way of knowing unknowable? To know can never be unknowable, the unknowable hears, from you to me. The you to me is the markable.

Imagine us. Echo, the divine dust. The us. Spacing out our wonderkite, we everbright. I’ll share my watch, weary weary gale El’el. I dwell in you, the hungering, the evering. Sainting. Aetherning. I go-step the remarkable, wavering. The aliening. Autoing. The autos autos the autoing.

There-is. The is is’es, inhabiting. The is-here represents the dawning. I gainerestesse. I lose, I rest, the rest, I lose. I’ll take off my fingernail polish soon, the fasces glares ominous. Consider this. Against-Napoleon, we shutter the reckoning. The fasces this-time has cloaked-itself in the simulation of the Carpenter. Remember Rushdoony? The Institutes of Biblical Law, under the bed though it may be, haunts the future, theocracy. The Puritans never left us, that Pilgrim Ethic, the Roundhead deity malochs. Galeforce winds the Ragnarok.

Walter Benjamin. History elopes. Affirm the new commoning. Become, become the creative nothing, dwelling in the Gemeinwesen. An eternity of I’ing, being in the common beinging. Our estrangment begins with quantifying qualia, through measuring. Chopping the dwelling, concepting the being-here. This estrangement is neither friend nor foe, it is both the source and haunting of the I’ing. The demon-creeps, the Tartarus, not only estrangement but simulating. Marking the I’ing as only quantifying, atoming the unimaginable.

Rememberhere. Here, here. We weep. We weep. We here. Hear me, hear me. Hearhear. Herehere. Hear. Here.

Sophia-ing.

But wisdom, where can it be found;
    where is the place of understanding?
Humankind doesn’t know its value;
    it isn’t found in the land of the living.
The Deep says, “It’s not with me”;
    the Sea says, “Not alongside me!”
It can’t be bought with gold;
        its price can’t be measured in silver,
    can’t be weighed against gold from Ophir,
        with precious onyx or lapis lazuli.
Neither gold nor glass can compare with it;
    she can’t be acquired with gold jewelry.
Coral and jasper shouldn’t be mentioned;
    the price of wisdom is more than rubies.
Cushite topaz won’t compare with her;
    she can’t be set alongside pure gold.
But wisdom, where does she come from?
    Where is the place of understanding?
She’s hidden from the eyes of all the living,
    concealed from birds of the sky.
Destruction and Death have said,
    “We’ve heard a report of her.”
God understands her way;
        he knows her place;
    for he looks to the ends of the earth
        and surveys everything beneath the heavens.
In order to weigh the wind,
        to prepare a measure for waters,
    when he made a decree for the rain,
        a path for thunderbolts,
    then he observed it, spoke of it,
            established it, searched it out,
    and said to humankind: “Look,
        the fear of the Lord is wisdom;
            turning from evil is understanding.” - Job 28.12-18 (CEB)

Image: Noah’s Ark by Marc Chagall (1966)