Dogma, Dogma. What have we learned? Have we been able, like the famous Chinese artist who vanished into his own painting, to disappear into our thought? But we had no thoughts, not really. We weren't able to think.
We felt things, though, didn't we? Yes, we felt things. We were moved, weren't we? Yes, we were moved. And our audience? In the end, we had no audience. We had the sea, the air. We had Plymouth Sound; we had Whitley Bay. We had our great walks and our trips by water taxi. We had the elements, which we redeemed through our speech …
Of course, we had each other, but did we really have that, each other? Didn't we talk past each other?, W. wonders. Didn't we speak in spite of each other? But how could we understand our own words?
We felt things, to be sure. But weren't we only vessels to be smashed? Weren't we messengers to be shot? Weren't we asked to bare our chests to the bayonets? In the end, who were we to understand our significance?
Lars Iyer's Blog 