Nomadic Parasite: Vol. I

Running...moving, acting, living...These are the things that become most salient when one is a nomad. Some romantics suggest that these are the true conditions of what 'life' is composed of.....but to be the essentialist of a particular aspect of the process of overcoming screams out from the idealist nomenclature and smacks the processes that are constantly in becoming without the title nomad...maybe something is wrong with the etymology and semantics of the word nomadic, maybe its too restrictive, maybe life is tantamount to a nomadic state and thus the word looses all meaning except for those who choose to utilize some sort of shock value. Thus the title.

Reflection: Being a nomad puts one in a fragile state, it makes one explicitly aware of the dependancies that surround oneself. Every network, every circumstance, all dependent origination arising at each conjecture in an aleatory fusion of infinite potentiality.....The atoms move, or do they have mass? Maybe the dichotomy is not so clear. Anyways, how would we even know they exists were it not for instruments capable of gaging them, like meters, letters, ect...defining and labeling space, making it explicit that these rulers, these socially constructed standards and references (like all words) skew our perceptions to reflect and reproduce a system that necessitates their gravity. The ideological interpellation of all measures. Whence does this nomadic measure of things arise......By the fragile state of dependence, or consciousness of that dependence, or is it that both of them co-arise with each other. One can see why some Theravada buddhist monks in Sri Lanka abstain from fixing any of their food and only acquire caloric consumption through nomadic begging. They hope to stare their dependencies in the face and call them forth as a seance to show how we are interpolated through constantly shifting conjectures, thus the absence of an essence, of a 'nature', which they beautifully call their 'buddha nature'.....Neither Patrician nor Plebeian, Neither Slave nor master... Rather one plays in a carnival, where identities are always shifting, the performances are always in flux, and one is compelled to laugh at the absurdity of it all.