A beginning: the bicycle

Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, aphorism 212:

Today, conversely, when only the herd animal is honored and dispenses honors in Europe, and when "equality of rights" could all too easily be converted into an equality in violating rights--by that I mean, into a common war on all that is rare, strange, or privileged, on the higher man, the higher soul, the higher duty, the higher responsibility, and on the wealth of creative power and mastery--today the concept of greatness entails being noble, wanting to be by oneself, being capable of being different, standing alone, and having to live independently; and the philosopher will be: "He shall be the greatest who can be the loneliest, the most hidden, the most deviating, the human being beyond good and evil, the master of his virtues, he that is overrich in will. Precisely this should be called greatness: to be capable of being as manifold as whole, as wide as full." And to ask this once more: today--is greatness possible?

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A point to begin. But in Moraline's writing over the last 2 years, it is clear a physical challenge must be at the forefront of such a 'project' or attitude. A man has never achieved greatness by sitting. A sitter can never achieve greatness because his experiences are drawn from those who have physically moved their bodies while he has not. He cannot know of other languages were it not for the man who went to the foreign land. He cannot read about the greatness of the sea or the mountain were it for it not for the man who climbed that mountain and swam in that sea. He cannot look at a map were it not for the man who first eyed the contour of that land. Hence the milestone of Moraline's attack upon the sitter.

The bicyclist: he has contact with the land and people and carries a reasonable amount of belongings. I have great admiration for the hiker who covers all kilometers on foot and carries the weight of his belongings on his back. He is able to access far more remote areas than the bicyclist. To hike across Brasil--one may aspire.

For the bicyclist: The climb and the descent represent a certain overcoming of the modern road, a reclaiming of the auto-based culture with an equally strange machine, the bicycle. But we must not lose sight of hiking, of swimming, rowing, canoeing, and running across terrain. There is no primacy in bicycle touring--it may be the perfect combination of effort, the ability to 'efficiently' cover distance while at the same time challenging one's body, the ability to meet new people on the roads of villages, the ability to return and backtrack which the hiker or swimmer do not enjoy with such ease.

Indeed, the bicycle represents a certain convenience, but the convenience does not come at an obvious compromise. Bicycling is difficult, and the rock climber and hiker would not have an obvious attack upon the bicyclist because they must admit to the difficulty of long days in the saddle.

Contrast this to those who choose the bus or the train for their method of exploration. The movement of the bus tourist is not powered by the food the bus traveler obtains. The bus traveler does not carry his own weight. The bus traveler hires a man for monetary compensation and pays this man to drive him over mountains and long stretches of valley. A bus traveler thus requires a necessary intermediary: the servant, the 'driver.' A bicyclist requires no such servant.

The purity of running across terrain: a man carries his weight and requires no mechanical artifice save his moccasins or modern running footwear. The primitive foundation of the ancient subsistence hunters. Yet there are limitations that the tribes recognized and 'solved' with the domestication of horses (the ability to carry food and gear and the ability to cover large distances to hunt animals). The horses required care. Horses themselves present challenges in modern travel--air travel to the destination becomes complicated and the safe housing of the horse is problematic in the villages. One may well can observe that the bicyclist has no relationship with a living creature, but there is a certain bond to the bicycle and I myself have spoken to my bicycle yet have never caressed or stroked or consoled my bicycle or led my bicycle to water in a way a man does with a horse. Yet a man is dependent on his horse and the health of his horse in a way a man is dependent on the health of his bicycle. Should he not feed his horse or should his horse develop sores or break one of his legs, a man faces disaster similarly in the way a man faces disaster with certain mechanical failures such as a cracked frame or broken spokes in the absence of spare spokes or a broken chain in the absence of a chain tool or a malfunctioning hub in the absence of grease, tools, or bearings.

Hence the bicycle represents a certain equilibrium very similar to the domestication of the horse. A bicyclist has domesticated a technology and has agreed to stick with one set of artifices which he shall henceforth call 'the bicycle.' He shall not attempt to improve upon this bicycle yet will modify his handlebar, saddle bags and living gear he sees fit.

He loved running in the mud

Terror, boxes, the ontologists

This bath of nostalgia provides me with unconquerable strength. The past is too much to bear-so it is that a man cannot be a scholar of his own past. He must ride. I cannot consider these 'lost moments' or any 'lost greatness.' Rather, I must ride into the mountains once again and through new land. There is a terror and a joy in something new. Becoming something new, I don't know. What is in the boxes, what I could put in boxes in the future. It is there as it happens-what is left over, let this be the matter of the ontologists.

The boxes

The rarefied moments in Evanston and Bloomington. Packages of photos I just uncovered, the young Maximin at 19. Old writing. Typewritten journals from Budapest--they are enormous. The last year in Bloomington, typewritten journals. Damn it, I knew they existed.

I was far beyond where I am now. If we can somehow get around the ontology of the problem of saying I am still those fucking boxes, with those photos and that god damned writing, then there is great hope for new work to come, despite the last distractions the matrix insists on tossing my way. That is why I kept those motherfucking boxes all these years. A reminder from my self in the past to never give up.

2012 will still be a great year. Much great exploration to come, much great writing. 

Never marry a philosopher

He sees his work surviving 100 years, if not 1000. You will not live this long. His time horizon extends far past your life span.You will not live this long.