The primitive imaginal

I’ve alluded to an equation between the imaginal/unseen of Islam and the subject of “primitive”/pre-Western Enlightenment/pre-Islamic scientific rationality. This primitive subject is an idealised shaman/Prophetic mindset, who recites/reads/extracts the innate God-direction from each and every sign, independently of what we consider to be the restriction of linear temporality, civilization, capitalism. This subject is a shaman who can therefore recite and configure the signs to meet this unveiling, this gnosis — and the shaman’s process can therefore appear like magic.

It’s a duality that, while possessing some utility, has outlived its value: its ties to religions past, its ties to enlightenments more recent and its schitzo ideal, running through, undervalued, un-valued. Its fundamentally anti-capitalist streak. We’re tired of it: we said it because we didn’t value value (value as sublimation, capitalism as the symptom and feedback loop of binah/absence).

If we want to speak of God-direction, really, we need to enumerate value, pray to the Goddess of Fortune, inasmuch as she is always with us, part of us, for success, praise her for what she has provided, as we move, God-like, through the world, ask her for she will deliver (not through magic nor through rational choice, but through power structures, relative measures, cause-and-effect).

Praise her, explicitly, in her form as erotic facination, addressed and acknowledged and embraced (not evaded).

From the Island of Manhattan to the Coast of Gold,
From North to South, from East to West,
You are the love I love the best.
You’re the dream girl of the sweetest story ever told;
A dream I’ve sought both night and day
For years through all the U.S.A.
The star I’ve hitched my wagon to
Is very obviously you.

Of thee I sing, baby-
Summer, autumn, winter, spring, baby.
You’re my silver lining,
You’re my sky of blue;
There’s a love light shining
All because of you.

Of thee I sing baby-
You have got that certain thing, baby!
Shining star and inspiration,
Worthy of a mighty nation-
Of thee I sing!

Of thee I sing, baby,
Summer, autumn, winter, spring, baby.
You’re my silver lining,
You’re my sky of blue.
There’s a love light shining
Just because of you!

All because of you!
Of thee I sing, baby;
You have got that certain thing, baby!

Shining star and inspiration,
Worthy of a mighty nation-
Of thee I sing!

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