From: Ilya Korobkov (
Date: Tue Aug 10 2004 - 13:12:04 BST

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    Hi Charles, Mark, Wim, Johnny and all.

    Charles wrote:
    CR> Ilya, your new term, DYNAMIC PRESSURE, sounds like AWARENESS to me.
    CR> AWARENESS ĘC n 1: having knowledge of; 2: state of elementary or
    CR> undifferentiated consciousness
    CR> As I was enjoy your thoughts on DYNAMIC PRESSURE, I noticed I was
    CR> simultaneously aware of AWARENOUS.
    CR> Thoughts?

    I'm sorry, Chuck, but the term DYNAMIC PRESSURE doesn't sounds like
    AWARENESS to me. AWARENESS I consider to be the result of (and a
    sign of) some incoherence between static patterns that compose a man.
    When I am coherent, I am not AWARE that I feel - I JUST FEEL! Do you
    see the difference?
    (I'd like to know if Mark agree with me on this point.)

    Mark wrote:
    Vac> DYNAMIC PRESSURE is experienced by person drive from static patters of his
    Vac> life toward unknown. Experienced by person force that drives him toward he does
    Vac> know what, you understand, Mark?

    Vac> Mark 8-8-04: I like it Ilya. I describe coherence as the cutting pressure.
    Vac> Mark 8-8-04: I think we are in close agreement. :-)

    Well, great if it is really so. But I am not so sure. You use the term
    "cutting pressure" to describe only coherent state, am I right? And I
    say coherence/incoherence is not relevant here. A person may be not
    coherent at all and still experience great DYNAMIC PRESSURE.

    Wim wrote:
    WN> You asked Mark M. 7 Aug 2004 23:51:19 +0400 what he thought about your term
    WN> 'dynamic pressure' and about your alternative answer to 'Can we say that
    WN> person A is more Dynamic then person B?' using that term.

    WN> Your alternative answer is very interesting and I think I agree with it:
    WN> I don't think I need the term 'dynimic pressure', however. I would simply
    WN> write:
    WN> 'If a person IS NOT OPEN TO DYNAMIC QUALITY, he is dominated completely by
    WN> static patterns. ... If a person IS OPEN TO DYNAMIC QUALITY, there are two
    WN> possibilities.

    Well, Wim, do you use your description to simply denote the phenomenon
    I was talking about, or you see it as a way of explanation of this
    phenomenon? If you see it as an explanation, tell me please what does

    I think I should emphasize what I invented this term for. I want to
    lay the foundation for a new psychology that wouldn'be a slave to SOM.
    But I don't want this new psychology to be a slave to MOQ, either.
    I think that psychology and metaphysics shouldn't come one from
    another but both should take root from one common ground. This common
    ground should be some agreed upon set of basic concepts describing human
    experience. This concepts should not interpret or explain anything -
    they should simply denote this or that aspect of our experience.
    And I suppose DINAMIC PRESSURE could be one of these basic concepts.
    It is a thing that every woman (if not every man) knows.
    If you are not sure what I am mean have a look at some fragments
    from Jay Griffit's "PIP PIP: A sideways look at time".
    DINAMIC PRESSURE is what it's all about.

    A friend and I once sat down together for half an hour and wrote out
    a list of premenstrual signs. Between us we got to fifty-two, some
    physical, many emotional, the acute sensitivity, the twitchy irritability.
    The list of negative effects is well known to women and to listening men;
    the lacrimae rerum, the clumsiness and the ugliggr destructive tendencies,
    they need no rehearsal. But what no one ever tells you is that these
    tricksy tides are so powerful. The much maligned paramenstruum
    (defined as the two days before a period and the first two days of it),
    floods you with insight, with surges of instinctual thought, with demanding
    intensity, with burning innerness, thinking at full feeling. It is a time
    when the world full tilts towards you; when you are charged with
    the electricity of thunderstorms. (During one of my first periods,
    I touched a friend's arm and the spark between us burnt her wrist.)
    The menstrual cycle gives women a differing experience of time.
    While the contented embonpoint of ovulation is a good time for
    renewing subscriptions and writing sensible letters; the spiralling
    time of the paramenstruum is a good time for flaming arguments
    and making a bonfire of what bores you, for having good sex and
    for wreaking good havoc. At ovulation, everything is ticketyboo,
    tame and tepid, you can sort out mortgage details, fill in forms
    and be polite, but at menstruation you play with fire and know
    your own wildest, feral emotions, for the hour is incandescent,
    thought is quick, sudden as flame, this is the time of woman
    in her wildest and most isolate aspect. It rises, this feeling,
    like burning blood which cracks rocks and singes your lips,
    the rising tide of flame along the body's shoreline, so hot that
    only the moon itself is cool enough to soothe it.
    Time itself changes. The sense of moment becomes acute; how best
    to use the molten energy of those hours seems critical. (It is when
    women are premenstrual that they find it hardest to choose what to wear,
    for in clothing, then, as in everything, time has a quality of criticality.)
    Each hour fills like a bowl flaming at the brim with dizzy momentness.
    The past casts shadows over the present; wrenching nostalgia or terrible
    memories haunt you. There is a veering difference now between the woman's
    interior, idiosyncratic, private clock and the exterior public clock
    with its strict, regular beat. She is at a critical, cuspish catch of time,
    time coloured with a character of change. The clock of masculine society
    is uncoloured and uncharacterized, it is non-absorbent time, each hour
    the same, objective and linear, chronological as opposed to kairological.
    Just how different women's time can be is also shown in the way women
    can subliminally influence each other to bleed together in menstrual
    Masculine society places high value on people being the same over time,
    being reliable as employees, consistent as parents. Approval attaches
    to 'being yourself and disapproval to 'not being yourself today'.
    But the very word self implies a false singularity. Women are never one,
    they are at least two, at different times; when I'm ovulating I'm not
    the same as when I'm premenstrual. At one pole I may well be co-operative,
    relaxed and nice. At the other, I will be intense, difficult, powerful
    and unpredictable. (Probably.) Masculine society denies or penalizes
    this plurality of times. The menstrual cycle, write Shuttle and Redgrove,
    in The Wise Wound, is considered 'a periodic illness only of significance
    as an inconvenient time-waster, irrelevant to properly lived masculine
    straight-line "neat" life.'
    Don't cross me now, for your own sake - and for mine. I am capricious,
    chancy, chaotic and unpredictable. I feel changed. I think in wild hatreds
    and wilder loves. Yes, I feel mad. Old memories I hate haunt me now.
    I've been crying. I feel both vulnerable and ragingly powerful.
    I look frightful and I feel like running away, flying. I want my female friends.
    I feel like only fire is a good enough image. There is stormy weather for
    an emotional weather report and red, red rain. I am crackling with that
    electricity which burned my friend's wrist, the electricity of lightning.
    I feel brimful, brinkful, womb like a vessel, like a cauldron, bubbling
    with hot dark liquid. I feel, in short, witchy as hell.
    And near me, so they say, the very bees in the hives die. I can sour wine,
    wither corn, blast and burn away herbs and young buds. I can turn
    a looking glass dim, and cause 'a sword, knife or any edged tool;
    be it never so bright to wax duskish ... Iron and steel presently
    take rust and brass likewise, with a filthy, strong and poisoned stink ...'
    So saith Pliny the Elder in his Natural History, on the power of
    a menstruating woman: 'Hardly can there be found a thing more monstrous
    than is that flux and course of theirs'. Well, no. It's more majestic
    than monstrous, more mysterious than disgusting and its burning,
    volcanic energy is more immense than Pliny ever knew. That Pliny died
    because of just such a burning volcano gives me a certain mischievous
    pleasure. (But only when I'm premenstrual.)

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