“My Son’s Name is Also Borthes”
Blumguy (He/Him) on 
Wrestling sccomplishes meaning without sequential difference—symbol without significance
“endowing of absolute clarity on the spot”
This is what i would call an “escaped magical truth”, to coin a term, which can only occur when we aren’t busy trying to establish the true.
I went and looked up his relationship to the sport, it seems he’s just a huge fan. Others were just as confused and even asked him why: his interview on wrestling is more concerned with classical justice and archetypal mythmaking of morals. It seems like the more poststructuralist stuff is interpreted through reanalyzing this earlier piece in light of the eifel tower one… but in short, we se that abandonment of objective logic allows for mythmaking of morals
he is reveling in our capacity to lie to ourselves
“Bart, Bert, Bort” in supposed sequential truth
Signs as connected to each other, representing our tendency to operate in rules-structure immaterial to the referent, can be seen in the classic Simpsons joke: Bart is looking for a license plate with his name on it, and can only find one for “Bort.”
Bort is something we recognize intuitively as a non-name, despite its adherence to what could be considered a naming rule, and definition as difference from other symbols.
the joke here is dependent on our own internal taking-for-granted that naming is arbitrary
We know Bort isn’t a name! We need no science of future to determine its falsehood. In fact, here, seeking pattern would blind us to ancient rules that operate on a level more real than truth.
And to think, the only other time i’ve connected the Simpsons to theory is amusing myself by complaining about “ills in society exemplified by the complacency of homer shimpshonsh” in a silly zizek voice.
- mass accepted, stifling meaning happens when signs are processed and removed from their instance
- when meaning is frozen and presented it dies completely
- attempts to contextualize and network symbols drain them of their original animal significance
Nietzsche himself would demand that we examine the art of our time under such a lens, and use it to reach this state of higher realization. That’s if I’m remembering the birth of tragedy somewhat correctly, though.
Now onto the Eiffel…
With our readings of nietzsche and barthes, I embark on a similar endeavor to the latter but arrive at what feels like a less impressed, more distaste-filled conclusion:
The Eiffel tower is a paragon of constructed and manipulated (and therefor facile) signage. it only means connection between suppliers and consumers of dried knowledge. it is pure pathway of hypnotism with no medicine beneath the sugar. It’s a highway with a destination you’ve already arrived at, filled with cars that don’t rumble when the gas is revved. Its sole meaning is the creation of meaning and its acceptance is both the demonstration and agent of its neutralization.
it’s a black hole and a firing range for our faulty, limiting desire to absorb packaged meaning. It’s a consumptive energy that absorbs and accelerates the naming knowledge like a flame.
it is both totally subject to our fragile labelling device and an overseer which demands its hurried, exhausting use.
it begs us to assume the dialectical position of prostrating ourselves in ostensible dominance over a vacuous significance.
we see it and desire to fill the vessel—deeply paradoxically—in a manner instructed by intentionlessness and supplied by emptiness.
it’s a nothing so loud you must echo
