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"At bottom, violence means slicing through a knot that,
with patience could have been untied."(Derrida)

Nature loves to hide.

Canadian spring is in slow gear but growing ever-closer.
This tension seen between the old and the new
is also a deconstruction.
Caught inbetween the salty snowbanks on the curbs
and the popping crocuses that surprise the ground,
there is deconstruction. Blue water sparkling on the lake
and silhouetted cyclists dodging ice while whizzing past
the waves and up the sky into the wind-warm sun.

Perhaps these thoughts are just a fiction of this season
and its upredictably slow transition.
The wintery threadofadesire for all things new.
But while sipping coffee in the morning sun,
outside, beneath three sweaters and a woolen blanket,
I examine my own impatience.

Impatience for those who take too much from others.
For those, who in the name of 'borrowing',
define their own non-process by what they glean from others.
Copying a style, stringingwordstogether just because
they see it somewhere else, as if it is their own. To take.
It is like painting Rembrandt's Lazarus and subsequently
signing it, in the name of post modern appropriation.
While also shouting something about recontextualization.
Burrough's cut-up machine at work in varying degrees of redundancy.

He did it first. It is his trademark. Leave his style alone.

Or imagine this. An intimate couple. Eyes meet.
And what one sees is never the same as what the other sees.
What one captures in reply.
Even in the closest embrace, one's thoughts have no relation
to the other's, and yet they understand each other.
To make each moment absolutely new, for them to have longevity,
their accord almost depends upon their infinite difference.
The embrace of it.

Find your own.

"And when indeed I wish to speak of Carthage, I seek
within myself what to speak, and I find within myself
a notion or image of Carthage; but I have received this
through the body, that is, through the perception of the
body, since I have been present in that city in the body,
and I saw and perceived it, and retained it in my
memory, that I might find within myself a word
concerning it, whenever I might wish to speak of it.
For its word is the image itself of it in my memory,
not that sound of two syllables when Carthage is
named, or even when that name itself is thought of
silently from time to time, but that which I discern
in my mind when I utter that disyllable with my voice, or even before I utter it."
(St. Augustine, On the Holy Trinity)

Deconstruction starts within.
It begins with the promisary process of unstringing
one's own pointofview, divined only from an inward journey.
It is the difference between disrespect and desiring an
equal exchange with someone else, a giveandtake that
respects another's formandprocess, while also not adopting
theirs, nor calling theirs one's own.

If one is respectful of Derrida's term,
one can recognize it, not as a plea for destructive revolution,
nor as a catalytic cause for complaint.
But instead, as a word.
A "yes". An affirmation.
A starting point where nothing comes before it:
'Yes' as an inaugural moment.

Its possibility.
Its new elsewheres of thought.

By affirming yes, one implies a moment,
after it is spoken, that must be confirmed.
To reiterate the original yes with a second one,
with one's committment, is to fix the first.
This secondary yes implies a remembered promise.
With no memory, there is no promise.
So the 'yes' that keeps the memory-of-its-beginning
is always one step ahead of its erruption.
To have an ongoing relation to any yes,
requires time, the time of confirmation.
Inaugural moments are beginnings-becoming-yes.
In this way, 'yes' has to be repeated
to reveal (Derrida's notion of) iterability
as a repetition of itself.
The yesyesyes of it.

A repetition of oneself, a promise to oneself,
in all one's infinite difference amidst the paradox of coupling.

Beware.
If the second 'yes' is offered as a parody of the first,
or as a mechanical repetition,
every subsequent affirmation will be insincere.
Reinauguration is always necessary,
if the originary 'yes' is to survive.
Each day, reinvent the inauguration,
reaffirm the 'yes' in some meaningful way.
Celebrate the yes of every moment as rebirth.
In the play of words and in the we-of-it.

The very act of talking to some one else
implores 'trust me'.
This is the pure-faith-in-language of any exchange.
Language-shared opens up the possibility of something-yet-to-be.
Like Derrida's idea of messianic structure.
Messianicity structuring experience.

Messianicity: Derrida-becoming-Levinas.
Made to fit the cut of deconstruction.
His idea of justice buried in the heart of any promise.
Of something more to come.

Of hope.

And all these spring-like interruptions
cycling past my wintery horizon,
past my sacramental sameness
as if to shout my yesyesyes.

"Each time I open my mouth I am promising
something; when I speak to you I am telling you I
promise to tell you something, to tell you the truth-
even if I lie. Even if I lie, the condition of my lie
is that I promise to tell you the truth. So the promise
is not a speech act amoung others; every speech act is
permanently a promise. So this universal structure of
the promise, of the expectation for the future, for the
one, the coming, and the fact that this expectation of
the coming has to do with justice- that is what I call
messianic structure...there is no society without this
level of faith, this minimum act of faith...what one
calls credit in capitalism, in 'capital', in the economy,
has to do with faith..." (Derrida).