Years of Poems and Spirits

I feel mentally twisted. I think I am on to something, but can’t say it or describe it as a body of knowledge. I think I am talking to Foucault and Nietzsche, but can’t understand what they are saying. I am just not good enough. I am not worthy.

Ever since I realized, after taking Migdal’s class, the knowledge (or truth) is related to power/dominance (of course, a narrow sense of K/T, mostly social/political or unquantifiable ones), I have been bothered by the relationship. I am fascinated by it, can’t figure it all out and–the worst–can’t just let it go. Very annoying addiction-like.

It all started yesterday after reading the article in the NYKr: “True Crime” The story is about a young Polish guy, who’s fascinated by Nietzsche and Wittgenstein, wrote a book as a way to manifest his brand of “truth/knowledge/illusion/perception”. The book described crimes committed by a seemingly reputable guy. Prior to the book, there was a murder–a perfect crime–that had some similarities with what’s in the book. Later an equally dogged police detective convinced a court that the author of the book was the murderer in real life.

The story is very engaging, but very dark. Some quotes:
Bala often referred to Wittgenstein as “my master.” He also seized on Friedrich Nietzsche’s notorious contention that “there are no facts, only interpretations” and that “truths are illusions which we have forgotten are illusions.”

Bala wrote a thesis about Richard Rorty, the American philosopher, who famously declared, “The guise of convincing your peers is the very face of truth itself.”

When a former girlfriend testified that Bala once went out on her balcony drunk and acted as if he were on the verge of committing suicide, he asked her if her words might have multiple interpretations. “Could we just say that this is a matter of semantics-a misuse of the word ’suicide’?” he said.
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Apparently, he is talented (e.g. “graduated with highest possible marks from school”). Yet he’s not good enough to be a philosopher to his own standard so he’s not really interested in an academic life just for the sake of having a job. He went into business instead.

It seems that his appreciation of the menacing nature of K/T, contrasted with his inability to translate such an appreciation into any secular advantage, really drew the worst out of him: he became sadistic and easily paranoid. He wrote his book partly to act out his fascination, partly, I think, to vent his frustration.

After reading his book and getting to know him better, the detective decided publishing a book wasn’t enough to satisfy either of his feelings. He had to live through the experience. With that conviction, he pursued him like Javert going after Jean Valjean, and succeeded.

Now Bala, the author/convicted murderer, is behind bars for 25 years and writing his next book.