Woke's Hoax. Of "Schrödinger's Cat." A lyric from Steely Dan.

 


 

 

This is odd,

 

I was reading through a critique, by purest happenstance, by Martha Nussbaum, of Edith Butler, Judith Butler, rather.

 

It offers a view of Butler's show as a performance of what is best thought of as "quantum quietism," of learned (two syllables please) helplessness. 

 

 Learnèd helplessness.

 

I realized after a sameness between the "non-binary" indeterminancy of the weird muppetryismatic "assigned gender at birth" conceit, and what humanities types, take from science fiction types, who take from the absurdity on steroids of science supposedly endorsing, wallowing in, the Escher impossible object of "Schrödinger's Cat." 

 

Slavoj Žižek inexplicably locates "Jonathan Hoag" in New York.

 

Already, the story makes no sense unless set in Chicago, the vulgarian Mecca of menacing meat packing heat packing mediocrity.  

 

He then, following Heinlein mentions the "gray mist" of quantum indeterminancy and the Land of  Schrödinger's Cat, as a cameo of "the Desert of the Real."

 

Where there exist only three elementals, the Earth (measure elemental, the Salamander (simplex salamanthrope), and Air-sylph (hyper-diamond, (square but) diagonal). 

 

What's missed though is that  Schrödinger's Salamander, is not a square cat. 

 

He's the Cat in the Hat, a Seussian construction, an absurdity like Escher's stereo/flat endless waterfalls, only dry in this case.  A dry wit.  A sense of humor. 

 

Heinlein takes it "too serious" by half. It's mushy science, a literary conceit.

 

Schrödinger's Salamander is the personification of the idea machine yielding up such sneetchery as "race is a social construct" und so weiter.

 


  

Schrödinger's Salamander is a hip cat.  A hep cat.

 

Burning up the joke in "woke," to light up the joint.

 

Which is a lyric from Steely Dan (not really). 

 

 

 

 

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