The Point

The Alef II

The Alef II

There is a point. I don’t know if physical or psychical. But I think, that if you find that point physically you will find it psychically, too. Yet this point is somewhere over here…

Borges said: the Alef. The One. And not just the beginning: “In Borges’ story, the Aleph is a point in space that contains all other points. Anyone who gazes into it can see everything in the universe from every angle simultaneously, without distortion, overlapping or confusion.” – (full article see here. Full story here)

Borges said: in space. But as in a previous post I asked: What if beyond this place nothing exists? Just you and your brain. Or your soul. Solipsism. — Is solipsism the ultimate state of mind? And in this case my place birth from solipsism is as just in space as Borges’ Alef?

There is a point, that is the sum of all points in the universe.

And I decided to find it. Right here. In this picture. In this place. In this universe.



ps.: more of point or pointless you should watch here


©2014 Makkai Bence


There is a place. The best, the greatest, the most intimate place on Earth. Or even in the Universe. Do you know where it could be? Everyone has one. And all places are just the same, and just different. It’s the place where we refuge in case of. It could be as a real place as well as a spiritual one. Maybe this place is between pages 158 and 159. Or between two notes of a symphony. It physical or psychical instance could be various, but the main characteristics remain the same: it protects us, we got some refill in it. Is the place, where you find yourself, where you become yourself and one again. Is the place, where everything that surrounds you disappear. You know that place, don’t you? It takes care of you, it spoils you, keeps you warm in cold and refreshes you in heat.

But what if this places is not the only one thing that is only yours? What if that all problems, discomforts, people, places a.s.o. what you try to heal inhere are only your grey matter’s product? What if beyond this place nothing exists? Just you and your brain. Or your soul. Solipsism.

There is a place where you find yourself. But is there a place?

Or only your grey matter plays a kinky game with you?

The Space Between

I think all of you know what ‘yes’ means. And if you know its meaning, obviously know the meaning of ‘no’. ‘Yes’ is yes, and not ‘no’, and viceversa. So easy to understand, and to use: are you hungry? Yes, mom, I am. You’ve been at the opera? No, I was not at the opera. So simple.

But what if you were in the building of the Opera but actually you did not watch the show. So, you were at the opera? And here raises the context: ‘yes’, for the building, ‘no’ for the show. And the meaning of yes or no loses its substance. I just really don’t know.

just the same thing happens with the ‘nothing’ and ‘something’. There is a thin line between these. There is white, and after that it cames a sharp limit where black starts? Or this limit could be magnified, and it turns to be some thing. A twilight zone. A grey. A territory that nobody wants to see? And how this limit, this transition looks like?

Now imagine a hill. That hill is covered with rapeseed. This hill, form a distance of 10 km looks like a yellow patch delimited clearly from the sky’s blue with a sharp line. Step closer. Is that clear line remains clear? And when you are in the rapeseed field? Right in the middle? How does it look like? Yes, I tell you what: is more green, than yellow. This is the surface of something. Appearance, that we translate instantly in terms, in notions, indicated by words.

Whether it worth to ask what is the situation with the light and shadow? I let you guess…

We people, determined by our notions, words a.s.o, we like to see things as absolute. Nevertheless there is no absolute. Or wait: it exists. Pick an option, pick an answer, and spread it like the absolute, the ultimate truth. And if you preach it well and consequently, and loud enough many times, your truth will be others’ truth as well.

Most of thing works on black and white. But what happens when you take a closer look to the edges? There is always a moment in life, when you really don’t know the ‘yes’ and the ‘no’. Maybe. ‘Maybe’. Yet, another word, which we seems to know well. So, If ‘yes’ is white and ‘no’ is black, maybe is the whole range of gray. And if black and white are only abstractions, greys really exist.

But we may ask ourselves: greys really exist?

By the lake

DSC_0227 copy

It’s spring. You are standing by the lake and all melted. Melted the ice and the snow. Melted the poplars, the creek, the sky. They all spilled, maybe into water. You are standing by the lake, standing on the hills melted into nothingness. An unspecified nothing.

It’s summer. You are standing by the lake and all burned out. Burned out the grass, the road. Burned out the misty dawns, the arid steppes, the days and the nights, and the minutes and the moments. They all burned out, maybe into fire. You are standing by the lake along the road that burned into nowhere.

It’s autumn. You are standing by the lake and all rotted away. Rotted away the fruits, the harvest. Rotted away the colors. Rotted away the rhythm, the melody, the repetition. They all rotted away, maybe into earth. You are standing by the lake on a gossamer rotted away into nothingness.

It’s winter. You are standing by the lake and everything has frozen. Frozen the lake, the reed, the electric wires. Frozen the light and frozen the sound. They all froze, maybe into air. You are standing by the lake in the light frozen into nothingness.

There is? Listen to the shed in autumn aspen leaves rustle, or the ripple on the water under the ice. Curves of the hills repose your eyes, grass could fit your hand. Fog shelters your steps, nights fulfill your days. But there is no lake nor reeds. Neither do aspens. No images on the eye, no sound in the ear. If there would be light, you may say that it’s all white. Or all black. And silence. But there is no silence, neither, it also froze. Lightless, shadowless. Soundless and silentless: the middle of nowhere. An unspecified nothing.

Imagine that there is not. Would grow you a voice. Would you increase you a sound, a taste. A taste, a touch. A touch, a shadow. Would grow you a hope.


Imagine that there is.

Buy me. Buy me with a shadow.


8 poles

We live in a perpetual myth of figures. Yes, we always count. And we count anything. And we create toplists. The 10 best, or worst things in life. Even truth we transform in figures. One is truth. Null is lie.

We transfigure everything in dumb-downed stats. And sociologists are nowadays wizards, interpreting these numbers back telling what they have transformed in figures. And we believe them, because we’ve been taught that 10 is obviously higher than 9. But is 10 really more than 9? We have achievements, results. And we measure them in these easily acceptable entities. Figures don’t have feelings; they don’t mean anything at all. Figures are the most abstract concept of all.

But we also have a life. He lived 89 years, they say. Did his most powerful memory has a figure attached to? Has someone the power to transfigure single emotions, not to mention love. Quality over quantity, they say. But how do you measure quality? Yes, you suppose it well: it lasts longer. It keeps you warmer. It rolls faster. It consumes less. Why don’t we talk only mathematics or statistics. I say 9. You say 10, so you are the winner. Generally speaking: the higher is the figure the better is the quality. Time is passing by, seconds after seconds, and we count and count.

But where are the non-measurable things? Thoughts? Feelings? Endless moments of fear, happiness or joy? Or aesthetical experiences? I wittingly used negative definition for this: non-figurative. Non-measurable. Because if we don’t find a definition of something we have never met, we define it by its antonym. And the circle, apparently is closed.

The image above has 8 poles. This sentence’s truthcontent, looking at the photograph seems to be 1. 8-1. But are these figures really essential when you face an artwork? Or other part of our lives? Is everything transfigurable? Can the figures be retransfigured? Can we disregard, are we able to disregard figures?

Now disregard all the theory above. Just sit down in a place, where are poles. There could be 8 if you’d like. Or more. Or less. Or even without any pole. Count to 10, and start enjoy the sight.

Or just stay. Countless.

Define nothing

Define Nothing

Just suspend your actual concepts and start another paradigma.

Why is there something rather than nothing?

Well, why not? Why expect nothing rather than something? No experiment could support the hypothesis ‘There is nothing’ because any observation obviously implies the existence of an observer.

What is Nothing, anyway?

It’s not anything, and it’s not something, yet it isn’t the negation of something, either. Traditional logic is no help, since it merely regards all negation as derivative from something positive. So, Heidegger proposed, we must abandon logic in order to explore the character of Nothing as the background out of which everything emerges.


What is no-thing?

Our first approach to this question already shows us something unusual about it. From the outset in asking this question we posit no-thing as something that “is” such and such, as be-ing. But plainly it has in fact been distinguished from just that. The question about no-thing—what and how it, no-thing, is—turns what is being questioned into its opposite. The question robs itself of its own object.
Accordingly, every answer to this question is impossible from the outset. For it necessarily starts out in the form: no-thing “is” this or that. Question and answer alike are themselves just as nonsensical with respect to no-thing.
(Martin Heidegger: What Is Metaphysics)

Source: – p.38