A humble suspension of certainty seems necessary ... almost always: in order that a conversation can take place; in order to think. Otherwise there is no motion, no mobility in argument, in reasoning, in dialectics. There has to be a space: an empty position as a kind of parameterization so that one can entertain possibilities serially. Not just one hand and then the other, but this that and the other: or, or, or. Something might fit. And judgment might be made. But the entrance of judgment depends on a parade of alternatives, not on an a priori certainty. Judgment is a choice, an imposition, a selection.


I'm sure that this all makes very little sense. But sense making is a struggle doomed to failure, and that is the point of this whole endeavor anyway. I'm not trying to be arch-ironic or anything, rather, just the opposite. Perhaps it is OK to flail earnestly against the sublime of the material other?


The range of cultural enterprises which depend on the computer for conception, construction, storage, and display, share with that device — as if by an intrinsic and fractal reciprocity of structure — a parametric ontology that imbues them with an aura of the sublime. Attention to this quality of the sublime that adheres to digital projects promises to link the quidity of the computer with aesthetic philosophy and a history of modernist and post-modernist artistic practice.

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