Heidegger's  "Being and Time" gave a meaning to "Being" that makes it difficult to get away from  the question - "What is authentic?"  His description of authentic was something like a carpenter making furniture within a context of yesterday, today and tomorrow.  Or, presumably, something like a Banker engrossed in banking.  His understanding of "Being" saw something like you or I as either square things or round things inevitably settling together in a jar.

    I understand there will be irritation from scholars of Heidegger.  I do know that these few sentences of mine are a massive simplification of the existentialist position.  But I cannot agree that I am mistaken, or insufficiently subtle in my understanding of great and heroic minds.   

    And here I dare say, my understanding of Turner, Tosh and Jagger might also result in a condolence or a dismissal from the erudite.

    This settling together in a jar, however, has so many parallels.  Almost as though the act of thinking itself can only ever produce variations on a theme.  As though the work of language is an Ancient Egyptian art form, out of which we can never escape.  Language is perhaps the "City in Us", that lubricant which enables the social.  If so, better to think of language as a pheromone, and a great mind as facilitator of sentences.  

    We like to believe that with us it is not just about meeting occasionally so that gametes might be introduced to each other.  We need to know what it means, so that we can share, and by so doing appear competent.  

    So here, I would like to insist that most of what I wish to share is a nonsense graded by a scale that exists somewhere beyond language.  Closer to that thing that we might actually be.  A thing which is more like a slope in a random place, than it is like a President of the United States.

    Fortunately, "harmlessness" rather than "being" permits me to do this, because, good or bad, the more precise language is the more controlling it becomes.

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