Saturday, December 31, 2011

Paradigms as allegories

People looking for a Grand Unifying Theory of spirituality appear to me to impoverish their life. Do they walk around in the same clothes every day of the year? IMHO consciousness can grow by trying to multiply your paradigms without searching for similarities. Crowley proposed to get into a different religion or philosophy every week to stretch your consciousness. All paradigms are allegorical representations of the total beast, like the blind men describing an elephant; to me it seems a good exercize to accept each one as a valuable part of the whole.
As such, for example, astrology as it was linked to alchemy considers two centers in the human consciousness: the main center being the earth or the body, surrounded by the seven planets: in the middle of these planets evolves the sun, or active gold, symbolizing the knowledge of the soul; on its extremities are the moon, the closest to the body, symbolizing the will or the force of life, animating the body; and on the other Saturnus, symbolizing the intelligence or Nous. Every aspect of the soul is shown between these two extremes of knowledge and will. And the sun in the middle stands for intuitive knowledge of the heart.
It seems pointless to try to combine this allegory with the 8 circuits of consciousness where rational intelligence appears in the 3rd circle; nor with the sefirotic tree of kabalah where the pharaoh or ratio appears on different sefirah depending which of the realms is considered. Yet all paradigms appear valuable to me.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

"C'est pas la pluie qui mouille... c'est l'eau"


Roland Dubillard died a few weeks ago.

A brilliant poet, writer, comedian and actor, he used to consider the world and himself in it with a distant joy and a joyful distance.
« Je n'aime pas beaucoup mes poèmes... » Avant de préciser : « Je suis mal placé pour en parler, ce n'est pas à moi d'en parler. » Et puis, et on le retrouve lorsqu'il prétend il dira la même chose pour ses pièces : « Ils sont un peu bâclés. »
He started acting in movies by Jean-Pierre Mocky, famous for his shocking anarchistic movies from the fifties till recently.

His "Diablogues" from 1975 (with a second series in 1985), a collection of wonderfully bizarre dialogues for the radio with him as the first protagonist and Claude Piéplu the second, a marvelous combination of two very specific voices (the latter, apart from having acted in almost every funny movie in France, gave his voice to Jean Rouxel's Les Shadoks animated shorts - about which I'll write later on). Dubillard's specific slow velvet voice responded perfectly to Piéplu's slapstick trumpety babble.

His theatre plays were compared to Beckett's and Ionesco's. His tragic tired face was in sharp contrast with his hilarious texts (he was sometimes compared to Buster Keaton for his appearance).

It seems difficult to find movies starring Dubillard. All I found was this excellent  short Les Temps Morts by satrap Roland Topor and René Laloux (who made Planète Sauvage), with text by Jacques Sternberg, and a voice over by Dubillard. An acerbic critic on humanity.

And below in his only starring (and very short) role as the remarkably boring Garspard Gazul in the typical French moronic comedy Les vécés étaient fermés de l'intérieur.


Roland Dubillard was 88. He had been bound to a wheelchair since 1987 but ever remained cheerful and humorous. He was buried in the cimetière de Montparnasse in Paris.

Without him around the world appears lesser poetic, lesser magical and generally speaking a lot more gray. Merdre.

Sources
Le dramaturge de l'absurde s'en est allé
Hommage à Roland Dubillard
Je dirai que je suis tombé
Filmography on imdb 
Bio- and bibliography 

One very bizarre synchronicity I just discovered: Dubillard at some point was befriended with the mysterious nobleman Philippe de Chérisey, about whom I wrote a pataphysical conspiracy on the Only Maybe blog. Cherisey, a belgian nobleman, was part of the belgian pataphysical movement in the nineties but was also linked to the priory of Sion. I think he was a master hoaxer (just as Dubillard and their other friend Francis Blanche) IMHO. And now it seems there's a book 'Livre à vendre' under the clowneske pen names 'Grégoire et Amédée' collecting little absurdist pieces Cherisey and Dubillard played together for the radio in the fifties.  Strange world.

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