Part 1. The Divine Wind
In this people's language there is a special word for defining such science as
geo-politics Chiseygaku. Literarily "teaching on the well-ordered land". Such people
cannot be something ordinary.
In this people's language there is a word Oshym (o-shima). It means "great
island". Such people has access to ultimately deep layers of dreams.
In this people's language "sovereign", "emperor" is called Tenno, "Heavenly
one". Such people itself tastes of heavenly fish.
A gold carp had been rising along the waterfall, but because of its absent-mindedness
it didn't notice, that the water was past and it was moving to the sky. Higher, higher...
The red carp is growing, wings come out of him, its scales are getting thicker... and it
is already the greate red dragon that is swimming in the sky.
Professor Tamotsu Murata told that story in the ancient little restaurant in Asakusa
residential area, explaining the canvas which hanged there on a wall. The slender old
profesor from a Samurai family was writing haiku poetry on a paper sheet, which opposite
side was dotted with mathematic formulas. He was finishing a book on the problem of
continuality.
"I think we should seek for the source of continuum in the mistery of a moment", he
had told not long before. "One day many years ago, when I was totally young, not such as
I am now (the impenetrable visage, in which the smile is expressed by the unnoticeable
movement of the hair), I was standing in a tiny yard, looking at the sky, and suddenly I
understood, that I am. That there is I and only I. And I not as something occured,
lasting, but as something momentary. Continuity is born from a revelation moment."
The Japanese read Western philosophy, but understand it in their utterly own way.
Professor Murata asked me to comment his views after his lecture about Kant. The gist
of his report was reducible to the following. "Kant shouldn't have separated the
transcendent sphere of reason and empirical world of sensuality. There IS a connexion
between them language is the connexion."
I answered: "It is an excellent idea, but then we arrive to conclusion, that language
is a magical instrument, a magic hermetic means, with the help of which one can turn the
rarefied to the dense and the dense to the rarefied."
"Indeed, how exactly you understood me", agreed old professor Tamotsu Murata.
"And could you subject this approach to criticism?"
"Yes I could", I answered. "you have been reading Kant, who belonged to modernity
context, being a Japanese, who belongs to non-modernity context".
All Japanese belong to the eternal present. And the fact, that Japanese professors,
refined and educated in utterly European way, can treat the classics of rationalism in
such way, foreshows that Japan will still shine over the world, like the bloody eye of the
non-quantitative, momentarily continual goddess Amaterasu.
Que Japon vive et revive cent mille fois! When I talked to Parvulesco after my return
from Japan, he told the pity of my not letting him know of my trip beforehand. "Mon cher
Alexander, I would have organized your meeting with my daughter, who teaches French in
Tokyo University, and she wouldn't have taken trouble with arranging for you to have
audience with Tenno".
"I will certainly go there again, Jean!"
A mask of the sacred theater "no" hanged on the canvas with the carp. Professor
Tamotsu Murata suddenly leapt to his feet from the tatami he seemed to be thrown from
below and began to slightly stir the canvas and the mask. The mask revived, reflecting
the entire range of emotions sinister, merry, ironical, cruel ones.
"And if one looks from different perspectives, in it there will appear the entire
life. One and the same, seen in different ways, is no longer one and the same..."
And on other wall of the secret little restaurant of Asakusa there was a faded
personage with small horns demon Anita, the keeper of hell. There are so many fish in
hell...
Then a head of a fish was served to us. It was as big as a wheel of a waggon. I didn't
know that there could be so huge fish. The floor in the restaurant was black and earthen.
It's roughness was a cipher key.
I caught myself at what I understand a lot more than I notice.
All the even tries to get closer to death.
The Japanese are the keepers of life. Which is dense, which you can get breathless
with, which is underwater, aerial, made of a piece of red dingy cloth, of dog's side, of
a porcelain cruel doll, of a house as big as a suitcase, of copper bells tinkling, that
notifies the spirits of peoples' arrival to the sanctuary-djindja and of their readiness
to throw a coin djindjas are everywhere, I dropped in at all I came across to say
little, I saw inside them a lot!
One who wants to know, what a pure substance of life is, should visit Japan.
In the Japanese language there aren't word "no" and word "I".
The roaring "hai" ("yes"), said without voice inflexion, with gleaming black
Japanese eyes, with unbelievable wild energy means all in aggregate. Yes it is the great
enthusiasm of sacred holography, when the Universe is focused upon the small piece of
land.
From the sacred geography to the sacred holography.
At the reception in the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Professor Masaru Sato,
looking like a sumo wrestler. He speaks about Japanese Eurasism, about necessity of
Japan's return to the former greatness a bit fractally, aggressively, being overfilled
by energy of mountains.
"We had a national thinker Okawa. He was a consistent advocate for the continental
bloc Tokyo-Moscow-Berlin. He foresaw the pernicious consequences of anti-Russian
attitude, was persuaded, that Japan would be able to maintain its influence in the Pacific
region only through strategic partnership with Russia."
"We Japanese", Sato-san continued, "are in some sense communists, but only with
the Emperor. We are for the collective, but hierarchized, sacred one..."
The communists of magic.
Important: all the modernistic in Japan is extremely perfunctory. They managed it! Yes,
they managed it. The modern is deactivated there, deprived of its metaphysics.
Just as professor Murata in utterly natural way adds to Kant a mere trifle, language as
an instument of operative magic, and a catholic (!) professor Yoichiro Murakami operates
with concepts of Buddhism to describe main trends of history of science, translates Jung
and Pauli (this is called the West!), so the ordinary Japanese turn McDonalds to djindja.
A lantern with hieroglyph and swastika, bringing luck, and several comrades from two
million "deities" of shinto momentarily turn hamburger temple of "New World Order"
into the traditional Japanese snackbar. And professor Toshio Yokoyama from Kyoto
interprets "civility" as traditional attitude of the Japanese to gods, flowers, beasts
and people. The civil society in such interpretation is the society of a sacred rite.
In such case I am a supporter of civil society.
A citizen is one who follows "do". Who does not follow "do", is none. "Do"
in Japanese is the immanent godliness, including the trancendent aspect as its natural
extension.
The spirit of Japan ("do") is unbreakable.
In Japan they have a good attitude to Americans. The motive? Americans were once able
to defeat the godlike Japanese, therefore they are godlike too. There is no concept of
evil.
There is the concept of path, "do".
In Japan they have a bad attitude to America. The motive? How can one have a good attitude
to it?
In Japan one could leave a wallet with money on a street and return for it in a week. It
would be just there.
There is a sufi parable on how a wisest sheikh, who knew everything and was a chief
sultan's adviser, left his purse in the bazaar. He remembered that in a week and went to
take it back. His murids were bewildered: "either sheikh has gone out of his mind or we
do not understand something". In Asia, purses disappear in the bazaar even if they are
firmly gripped in hand. Japan is not Asia, it is beyond Asia. It is the country, where
ethical norms of the contemplative sheikh are made a reality.
Japan is unreal.
It seems to me that there cannot be such a country.
Technology here is an element of "do". Assembling electronic devices is an
equivalent of arts of making ritual ekibanas up or of tea ceremony.
It is an electronic version of Yemoto, "do" keepers.
There are no Japanese without "do".
"Are here avant-garde artists? Drug addicts? Transvestites? Those who inhabit the modern
West?"
"They were here at one time, but disappeared somewhere with time".
There are drug addicts among newcomers. The Chinese, the Taiwanese, the Philippinese.
The Japanese cannot be affected by anything. Their customary everyday life is a continuous
luxurious hallucination. Under Kyoto bridges people, who live in containers, watch TV.
Even in garbage nooks strange live aesthetics reigns.
Watch out: schoolchildren!
They walk in streets, in Metro, in historic parks and mountain museums by well-shaped
squares. All in the uniform. One ought not come across them. The divine wind once
destroyed the Mongolian fleet. Kamikaze. People and wind are relatives. The Japanese
schoolchildren are the relatives of the aimed divine wind.
Kami-kaze, "Divine Wind". By this one can clue the fascinating figure of Rembo «Le
vent de Dieux jettait des glacons aux marres..."
Old Believers of persuasion Beguny ("runners" or "escapists") in former times
had a teaching about a secret "Opon czardom". I understood what was meant.
It was Shinkoku the doctrine of "Sacred Japan".
Shinto priests teach: the ancient good spirits Izanagi-no-mikotu and Izanami-no-mikotu
once married with each other and bore islands Honshu and Kushu. Those mainlands resulted
only from their lawful wedlock. Before that there appeared spiders and ghosts, and also
small islands. Then they bore also a lot of good spirits and the first emperor Tenno. The
brother islands drew out of themselves mountains, rivers, giant red-white fish (which swim
in Japan in every pool, offering themselves to skillful cooks I and Polyakov made
friends with one of such fish this was a professor fish from Tokyo University), forests,
tea, sacred narrow-muzzled dogs, which guard sanctuaries, spirits and conifers, sunbeams
and soft clowds, which can be only over the Near-Moscow-Localities. The Emperor bore the
Japanese. The Japanese and Japan constitue one kindred alliance. Heaven and earth, a rice
sprout, clay, a stream, a stone, a vacuum cleaner, a peasant and a policeman are one
kindred organism. In the Japanese the wind, sweet clowd wind flows through their veins
instead of blood, nourishing the eyes by the flesh of dream. And always so. So has it
always been and so will it always be.
Shinkoku. Where there is nothing to exclude and to include.
Japan is the Eurasian esoterism. It is the clue to us. Opon czardom. The altar of
Eurasia.
In the garden of emperor's palace, on the remains of the tower, built by a Shogun,
which in the world there wasn't higher of, but which was standing for just several
years, we talked with Polyakov about advantage of ontological reflections for heuristic
solutions in modern physics. About the equation of Navier and Stokes. About prospects of
development of the united theory of substance on the basis of phase change analysis in
works of the physicist, called Sinai. Masuda dozed on a sunlit bench off. Suddenly a raven
appeared before us. We unpreconcertedly understood, that it was Shogun's warrior. It
guarded the emperor's garden, keeping vigilant watch over who, where, what does and what
says. The raven was in the size of around two metres. In the eyes of two big-bellied
tourists, who perspiringly ascended the tower's remains the pupils were rolled
unseeingly it seemed they did not see the raven with a pointed coal-black beak. It
disappeared noiseless.
All partitions in Japan are opening, they are made of paper. The membranes between the
dimensions have a special structure very well-ordered, carefully fixed. Approximateness
of metamorphoses is here conceptualized, permeated with mathematics.
Japanese cars have the snout of Shintoist spirits.
Tetsuya Masuda pointed at an undistinguished imperceptible stone, which lied at the
entrance to a little restaurant on the narrow Kyoto street. "This is a garden". By the
Japanese a stone, a blade of grass, a stem, a little pool is anyway garden. They take a
fragment of what is and penetrate it by their sacred Japanese attention. And a garden is
born. The garden-bringing people.
In Kyoto we were served a fish. Its sides were cut off and the raw meat lied beside.
The fish was left its snout, skeleton and caudal fin. It made gasping-for-breath movements
by its mouth, blew a little bubble. In the half-dark room I counted nine levels the
floor, the "bar" stand, the table, the benches and so forth which were at the
different distance from an imaginary line. As if all the planes must have been shifting as
in a multi-mirror lift. Masuda told the story about his French friend, who had been so
horified by revealing the fact that a fish was breathing that started to shout at him
for him to urgently bring a knife and to "save a poor animal from misery".
Masuda obediently went for a knife. But he long could not get it from the master, who
sincerely did not understand what was up. When he still returned with a knife, the
Frenchman with a great effort in hysteric anguish had already crushed fish skull by the
wooden saucer and had been gazing round perplexedly. "He made the fish suffer rather
than attentively observe its death-transfer and participate in it by all himself mouth,
tongue, stomach..."
We looked at the fish, at the small black bubble near its mouth... Polyakov touched its
moist nose by the chopstick...
The city's view is psychedelic. Not a single direct line, all the area consists of
huge number of squares. The area is overrich in the sense and in the symbol. Like a
Russian cemetery. All is satiated with the Being. Japan has ontologic architecture.
We with Polyakov founded a new teching: ontological teaching Kyoto-Helsinki. The second
root of Eurasia.
Eurasia is Japan-centered in our geometry. So teaches Chiseygaku.
The last evening brought us to the Tokyo's Near-Moscow-Localities. I noticed almost at
once upon my arrival to Japan that it had Russian sky. But only on the last day before my
return it became clear that near Tokyo there were grasses and flavours of the
Near-Moscow-Localities.
Profuse, abundant, black, bloody saps of the earth. A small island of grass and of
Russ plus computer lights of Shinkansen, luminous sky-scrapers, twinkling highways, neon
hieroglyphs blink around. It seems to me, that when a Russian dies, he first finds himself
in here and drinks Japanese beer Kirin, until he understands what's what.
Nikolay-do. Matins before Whitsunday are served by the Metropolitan of All Japan
himself. The icons are all Russian. On the right from the altar there is a picture. Russian
field, forest, a Russian beauty stands in a crown, with nimbus and with a cross in hand.
The saint Olga. On the icon there is a fragment of Russian Shinkoku. The icon of Russian
field, Russian forest. Two holographic realities. Somewhere in mediastinum of dream they
are bound, put by roots in each other. Roots of Opon czardom, construction of
Vladivostok-Hokkaido tunnel, Shinkansen from Tokyo to Berlin.
The words interflow in the whole unsplit stream. In kanji one can not only read and
write, but also think. Think by a whole piece of world, which is indivisible, complete,
pulsatory from overrichness of inner Being.
A thought on Japan is the thought about wholeness.
The red rising heart.
The light of the Orient.
They ought rule again and again.
For all the Pacific sphere to co-succeed.
Part 2. The Geonauts
I have been honoured by the visit of Japanese professor Shukei Yamaguchi. One more of
them. They now visit me everyday. That is right. If you started to go on visits, go on.
Japanese like density very much. Like we Russians do. But in other way.
He asked me to explain, what "being a Russian" means.
I answered...
He studied Jung's heritage. And a director of a Jungian college in Switzerland seemed
to give his blessing to him to write a research on classification of basic temperaments
(introverted and extraverted ones) by different countries and nations. A very good idea.
Yamaguchi was coming to the conclusion that Western peoples are of extraverted type,
Eastern ones are of introverted one. And in Europe the Germans are relatively introverted
("the thinking, reflecting introverted people"). In his classification the Russians
are "the intuitive introverted people". The Hindus (like the Germans) are "the
reflecting introverted people". The Japanese are "sensual introverted people".
It's clear that the sphere of "introvertedness" is the mental continent Eurasia.
The introvertedness gravitates towards inner experience, towards "likeness",
towards "unity", towards "interfusion".
"Inner world is the world of life", Yamaguchi said. Talking with him I made out,
that he worships the Absolute Life. It's the essense of Eurasian worship. The Absolute
Life. Hence follow very important definitions:
"Therefore an introverted person as he is concerned more with his inner life than
with the outside material world, is liable to see reality in some form of all-including
unity or interfusion. He likes to feel united with Nature. He would not assert himself,
because it means he should be independent or separated from the world or other people. He
would try to form a group with friends and tends to submerge in it. He does not like to be
different from other people. When he has to make judgement, he tends to see the reality
from the point of view of similarity, not from the difference. So he is inclined to say
first "yes" but later he often says "no" much to detriment of his credibility."
(Yamaguchi)
It's the description of us, me, the Russian people, the Japanese people, all good and
interesting people on earth.
Further Yamaguchi describes the Japanese psychology. For instance, the O-tsuki-mi rite.
It's when the Japanese silently, for hours look at the moon. Their Unconscious bathes
then in the moonlight, is cured and cleaned, like the country itself washes in ocean
waters, removing scum. The Japanese thoroughly care for their Unconscious, clean and nurse
it.
Each Japanese sees Moon at his own angle and it changes colour. This is tamamushi-iro
practice. Things change colour in dependence on how one looks at them. The colour is the
voice of the Psyche. True distinctions arise where through different people the common
misterious beam of light of the Absolute Life, which got married on nation, is radiated.
The Japanese hate to subdue the surrounding world, because they do not tell themselves
from it. And again professor Yamaguchi gives a surprisingly precise sentence:
"Japanese does not like clear distinction, but tends to leave things in ambiguity".
As if we are during the lectures of "the New University"...
At the lection "The Secret Mother" I gave a definition of a human, which made
grounds of new Eurasian anthropology: "a man is an inaccurate movement of the
Possible".
I meant a Russian by "a human". As it has become clear, the Japanese ideally meet
that definition.
I retold Yamaguchi the story with professor Murata and Kant. He listened to me with the
great interest. When I had come to the language, which bridges the abyss between the
empirical world and the reason, he suddenly interrupted me, sawing the air: "they are
connected through the absolute life, which radiates through people and things... Kant is
incomprehensible without Bergson and Jung!"
It's all clear with you, I gave up. And that Japanese, who has been living in the
West for more than 20 years, hasn't understood anything in the world, where he has found
himself in. And he will never understand. And thanks to God! Thanks... This imparts to me
great strength for my work. To him, evidently, too.
Then the professor asked me to tell him about Russia.
I answered: "the most important thing in Russia is geonautics, "land-floating",
the theory of liquid land. We conceive the dense as beef tea, not as stone. Vapours of
land rise and form the land ocean. These are multi-dimensional worlds, breath of the
Being. The land, Russian land has its own Navier-Stokes equation. The Russians walk on
land by their entire body, not by heels.
Therefore the Russians are the areally introverted people. For them the land is not
something firm, but something moist and viscious. The Russians drift on land, that's why
they do not understand anything. Except for the Japanese. Quite the contrary, they have an understanding of
the Japanese."
Yamaguchi's eyes were gleaming, double-gleaming, burning.
"And how do the Russians make judgements? Logically? Intuitively? Emotionally?
Egoistically?"
"No, nothing is right. The Russians make judgements according to principle of maximum
silliness. They choose just what is less reasonable and would bring them a lot of
inconvenience. They evade the choice, sabotage it. Choosing absurdly and not to the point,
not what and not when is needed, they give to understand: your proposal, your conditions
of choice are idiotic by themselves. And it is proper to answer idiotism by idiotism. It
is the active abstentionism. We just do not want to live along the imposed regulations. We
swim. The essense of Russia is the ironical seriousness. The ironical silliness. Showing
ourselves as fools, we laugh at those, who do not consider themselves as such. When a
Russian is reading Dostoyevskiy, he is dying laughing, Dostoyevskiy is amazingly laughable
author."
"You don't say! His works are a distressing drama for us... And what about Russian
mesianism?"
"It is very important. That messianism is pointed to the West. It is messianism of
the introvertedness. We as well as other peoples of the East are introverted people,
though not passive, not natural, but aggressive, preternatural. We march under
introvertedness as under a standard, extend it over the world, weigh heavily over
membranes of the West, which we do not like, but, by the way, understand. May be just
because of that we do not like it so much."
"But the Russians are very gifted at the sphere of art, beauty..."
"Yes, but not out of aestheticism. Just when three hundred years ago we were imposed the Western culture, which was
extraverted in its essense, we chose the least rational, least
reasonable in it the sphere of art, where there is more space for the Irrational. But
that was a mere substitute of real land-floating. Quite a poor one. But we succeeded in
it, that's true."
And then the professor couldn't stand anymore. Interrupting me, he said: "I would
like to express my emotions by singing".
In his profile there was a phrase "professional whistler". Having first seen it I
thought "probably they call flautists so".
No, he was a natural, literal "professional whistler".
Professor Shukei Yamaguchi began to whistle. It was the autumn whistling, dedicated to
the thin spider lines of evening, which noiselessly fly dowm from the sakura branches. The
autumn whistling. He whistled the classic academic whistling, helping himself with his
hand. The Japanese national whistling.
It stands in my ears. That strange whistle...