Here we go. Sparking thinking, wrenched from so-called lazy summer relaxation, back to ideology (not that one can ever leave).
Somewhere in this website or its activist’s guide is the charge to take this on because to do so is morally right.
Something about the firm faith of this directive moves me to recall that theory is theoretical. Forces that create change, in the end, must force.
If I see that recognition from my inmost awareness that this or that is just and so morally right, in accord with my deepest personal sense of being, without argument or explanation, and if I see that this recognition is ideology hailing me, effectively creating my experience of being, and that it is only and always already ideological, and that in some senses anyway I am trapped by its inescapability, should that stop me from believing in anything? which by the same devices proves impossible anyway?
I’m tired of deconstructing. But my faith in anything is anything but firm. It wobbles this way and that way, waddling and slipping over the horizon like the mirage of water on the road that I still keep following, endlessly looking, as we all are doomed to do, for utopia.