Jesus says, " I am in the world, but not of it." The writer claims independence from the incarnate, sensual body. Technology does not arise from the sensual body itself, but from the light which feeds it, the light whose source is "outside" the body. Jesus also says, "I am the light of the world." The writer claims his productions are made of light. The text is supposed to illuminate the dark world.

Jesus is born of the brotherhood; it is the "second birth" that is the real birth. Jesus is born of written words, not of the sensual body; Jesus is a fiction. The text offers a mirror which transforms the sensual experience into a purely visual experience. All phenomena are represented, but the full embodied sensual experience is missing. The reality of the text is, and remains "virtual reality."

The claims of independence, of "virgin birth" get us nowhere. Our fictions are never actually free of the sensual, genital body. Technology cannot free the child from his Mother; the whole project is cooked up within her womb.

Metaphor asserts the sameness of all pairs; "Thou art that." The minimum is two; "toward oneness with a minimum of two;" "a genuine two-in-one." The desire for "oneness" perpetuates the difference between the two. "The two giant figures are cannibals, in mutual manduction." Love's Body. 64.

The originating pair, the Mother/Father of us all, is the pair in coitus, the childless, fatherless, motherless pair. As abstractions the pair are cell and nucleus; the originating condition only implies division into four separate parts. The originating condition is schizophrenic; Artaud "got no papamummy." The originating condition gives birth to the ego complex, or, the human family. What is implicit in the original condition is made explicit in the human condition. The schizophrenic savage gives birth to the civilized neurotic; reality is constructed by repression of the originating condition. In the absence of repression the experience is not real.

Repression is temporal; it begins and ends, not unlike this day on Harris Creek. The power to repress the sameness of the originating pair exhausts itself and the body returns to its original condition. The walls of words are crumbling even as we write them. It is time for yoga on this Sunday morning on Harris Creek.