Reflections on thinking Heidegger’s, or, the work with that name for its title, work on reason: What is Learning, What is Called Learning?

All learning is a command from the past. A being ordered by the past, such that all is arranged already but modifiable according to further learning. An artist brings forward an object, and soon, amidst the abstracted eyes, announces that it is a chair. The judgment of some of the onlookers begins to see it. While others, their judgment rejecting the eidos, find in the phusis something else. When asked they attempt to answer according to their Ownmost, according to the God. One can, they say, sit there, but that does not make it a chair. One can as well sit on a grass field bathed in the early summer brilliance. Such a location is not thereby a “chair”. Has arbitrariness taken over everything? Are we to be fooled by every assertion, under the claim that we ought to be having fun, strolling through a “Fun Palace”, or, somehow, resolving our attachments to the “normative” or to some “hierarchy”? These commands, insentient, hold sway in the essence of the God, thus in what is one's own. Thusly eidos and phusis, what is one’s own, and the command, as the path which resounds in the God, clash as though in the brightness of the pan-oceanic sea, and in what is snatched away as each moment, obliterating the eidos from the face of the phusis.
The thinking of Being then, is constantly, when it thinks this Four Fold, as it is called, always aware of this being as what can’t be named by the rubric, but only sensed by thought, when it is named it means the essence of the god, the being of being, when it remains unspoken it is supposed to be resounding, as what would let the human being abandon its stand, in the leap. “Thought” is said not in diremption with deed, but rather, it is said, as it were, as what like a sugar cube in tea, makes the fact, in its availability, what is not True, what is not home or the God. Thought is what, in everything, is the strife of the plunge into the Four Fold.
In Nietzsche this remains gaseous, yet, in what is gaseous there is already thought of liquidity, and what is liquid is already thinking of the solid. In the thought of one’s peculiarity, as what belongs to speech, one at last is thinking of what would be the subject matter of the leap. It is just this speech that points to Language, to the essence of any human being. Language is never the speech, nor the writing, but it is the interpretation of the signs in its entity, in it predurance, to speak, to have the predurance of the house of what is one's own possession, one's dearest holding, in oneself, in the eigenstate of the human being. Ipsissimosity in Nietzsche still is correctly called the place of the daimon, of eros. Eros in Socrates is what, through energia, comes to call to the lost one. In the Christian time it is actus purus, as the God of Love, as the Sacred Heart. In Nietzsche, this pure act is called Will to Will. In all this one must be careful to see the crucial implication, which is that tone is not oneself in the core, but the will is willed, but the soul is called, but the faithful, the true knower, is taken over, ever so violently, by the love of the god who enters.
There ceases, then, at length, to be any sense to the technological essence, with its belief in the neutral valence of each standpoint--so far as it is one's own! In captivation, in the forgotten. In the lack.Yet, in the learning, in the learning that is dedicated to the strife of the so-called Four Fold, something wants to speak that does not speak from the ipsissimosity. For example if one would speak from judgment, which is exposed, as it were, to experience and judgment, one is laid open ad hominem, as Socrates held, in such a way as to enter the argument, and so to possibly see what is ownmost. One looks to see if one really holds this or that opinion. Yet, in the sense of the problem of competency, as Strauss conceives it, this matter of the spheres of talent, in which one pursues matters according to the moral sense, or the sense which seeks political principles, or to the sense that is for thought, or the sense of wine tasting, etc., one posits to say what is not ad hominem, not opinion, but sense. A particular sense. Yet what is the point of this sense, the sense of the sensitivity to thinking, except that in the thinking the essence of what is set forth will leap? What else is the thinking supposed to be thinking for, as it were? Is this then a “why”, of the kind excluded according to Nietzsche, a why of it all? Or does it rather slip away from all “whys”? One can only think this half way, what discernment or understanding, as though of a regularity, would be there like a handy ingredient? One thinks it almost not at all.
At this point let us put aside the thinking for a while, insofar as we have sensed something of the thinking called Heidegger in this. Remember that, if one thinks Heidegger as more centered, and Nietzsche as lopsided, it suggests something of all lopsidedness and of all being staunch, which is part of the path we herein have thought. It brings a play into the seriousness of the thinking, that is a sensing of the path of thought. How are these dead bodies still speaking, along with Jung, and Strauss? In the thought of the path that holds up for the sake of letting the path speak, as though the path were like the archetypes? The archetypes speak most to the balance and the lopsidedness of all thinkers, as though from a place one is suspicious of, the “neutrality” of the valence of all Truths. A slimy snake, or a body, moving without attachment to any Truth, propelled by unknown forces, utterly alone, yet on the move and somehow with great moment.
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