💗
Bare, teehee, with me a moment here. Words have been skittering around under my scalp and I will try to pin some of them down. They tickle.
All night I was considering the part of the human brain or mind that deals with the prophetic voice, or poetry, or what some call ecstatic speech. I have done much speaking in tongues, its a strange feeling to hear speech come out of your own mouth that you did not participate in the meaning of.
Is it a pre-literate trait of humanity? Minus inspiration what is it?
If I may for a moment posit some sort of human evolution, did we become like our Creator when this trait switched on and the breath of life, words, entered us.
I think of Marshall McLuhan. I think he said, without looking it up, "we shape our words and thereafter our words shape us". Meaning seems to be born as the words are said or written down. What is it to be human? "She was a wordish bitch" I hope they put on my stone. Wordy would be going too far. She hasn't written enough to be called wordy.
Consider the infant and his struggle to hear and be heard.
No comments:
Post a Comment