beeing of the beehive

In a poem by the Russian poet Tatiana Shcherbina she sings about
non-belonging:

"The helplessness of a bee left without
A hive, the dark magicking itself out of a deep blue
And how I was deceived: these things kill me."

Pondering briefly and lightly the beeing (and being) of the bee being
en-homed in the hive, I think the beeing and being of the bee is also the
hiving and behaving of the beehive, since the being of a being is not yet
another being. Looking for an other being for the being of a being (whether
such as materialist matter or religionist godhead or spiritualist mind or
the mechanistic mechanisms, etc) is to merely render an infinite series, a
deferring of difference: the homelessness of the eternally homesickened. The
behaving of the beehive is the beeing of the bee, and, neither are
answerable to a what, although we seem unable not to ask (an other
homelessness?).

Just buzzing around, momentarily sucking nectar from watching that flower of
a film by Terence Malick (who once wrote a translation into English of
Heidegger's 'Essence of Reasons'), 'The Thin Red Line': that aligator, at
the beginning with menacing music, slipping under the water... see you later
aligator.

regards

mP

>
Michael Pennamacoor
Abgrundrisse
tel: 01304 617626
fax: 0870 163 8935
e: michael@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
http://www.abgrundrisse.net
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http://michael-pennamacoor.fotopic.net
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