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The title of this post is a reference to the book of the same name by local author cherie priest. The book is excellent, go read it. But once you go to these festivals, it sort of alters your life around for a while. I've been thinking a lot about meaning recently, current global problems relating to creationaism have me weighing the distance between epistemology and teleology a lot.

I think that there's this huge battle at war in american culture between intrinsic and extrinsic teleology (namely, whether god's plan for the universe should drive you to be part of the great wheel of being or attend to your own salvation/inner light.) Intrinsic teleology leaping out and making events happen in the world isn't the same as extrinsic teleology.

This phenomena, which I've started to call intrinsic escapism, means that doing the things that you should internally is good for the world as a whole. This is the path of jihad wack and shooting Tillers in church. Extrinsic teleology means that you strive to improve the world as part of the great machine of the world. I don't know, it's possible to revert these categories as personal preference, but what I see a lot of in the world is the Intrinisic Teleogical springing from people's foreheads like cut rate Athenas and picking up the bloody axe of dogma and whinging it around a lot.

Those who would deprive you of a tiller are probably without rudders themselves.

But to return from the gravitas to the gravy: Leaving the event, I took the event with me, staying over at strobe's house and talking to the b3 camp. I hung out with various flipsiders that night, and the next morning I went over to spiderhouse coffee to get some work done. It was a panoply of eventful people, with Easy-E and [livejournal.com profile] deeptape arriving first, then [livejournal.com profile] kukiri and D-. After they left, some friends other friends and flipsiders came through and then just as I was wrapping up for the day [livejournal.com profile] tiarasaurus and [livejournal.com profile] flipsideghost came through and warned me that K-, B-, and a big chunk of gigsville were en route and I may wish to flee. I went over and hung until my friend was ready to receive visitors and then I went forth and was received. (The next day, I met [livejournal.com profile] silona and her guy at the same venue.)

The day before, in a similar process of reception, I was at a state park bordering a dam on what was probably lake austin, and because of memorial day there was a ranger directing traffic. The park ranger said to me, "I heard people from Oregon don't like Texans" in a fairly serious voice. I told him that I was from Seattle and I had been camping near Pedernales state park for the last 4 memorial day weekends.

This is true although it omits all sorts of relevant information and was sufficient to let me pass and please the park ranger. Having turned the wheel of the day again, I went and crashed and prepared for the morrow, which will return with a more conventional narrative and includes geocaching and many wheels of travel.
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