Yet Another Note to the Reader

The Falling Leaf Review intends to examine our social interactions and the forums for those interactions. It will provide commentary and critique of these social interactions and their forums. It couldn’t be otherwise. There is a compelling logic carried to its conclusion by the premise: Ours is a Literary Review. I do understand how some may not understand the purpose herein without it being made explicit. Ours is both the best of cultures and the worst of cultures, as any culture stands as its most enduring enemy, as anyone understands that he or she is his or her own worst enemy. Social critique and commentary are a staple of our essays and our blog. There is that our again, a convention I cannot seem to avoid. All social interactions are fair game (pardon the cliche) within the confines of this review. Responses herein to the questions that arise, or the questions I have anticipated some might ask, are not in themselves answers. The Falling Leaf Review will offer criticism, explication, commentary, exposition, even Jeremiads, which do not chiefly answer as much as they address, perhaps by redressing grievances or making pronouncements, perhaps grandiloquent ones, on social woes. I do acknowledge that as the Publishing Editor of this review, I cannot help but shape what this review will sound like, or what it will appear as, when readers access its texts. Jerimiah’s Lamentations on the woe and misery and decadence of third century BC Jerusalem is never too far from our social and political critiques; the energy behind Jeremiah’s pronouncements while lamenting the political and the socio-economic conditions of the Jewish people in Jerusalem is informative of our commitment.

Could I extend any of these questions about what we intend in our pages  beyond the limits of this essay? Of course, I could. Could I to subjects as diverse from language and linguistics to epistemology and ethics, or from history to law to then again historiography, or to reading and writing, or to painting, sculpting, the state of theater in America, to blogging, to Orthodox Jewish landlords in my building diminishing maintenance services correlative with the rise in Muslim tenants in the compound where these Orthodox Jewish landlords are allowed, by the City that governs the housing they own, to act as they wish, or do not wish, and with impunity. Bloomburg was a big Orwellian pig that let them off their leashes to sink their teeth into tenants–no? Yes, of course we could address all of these things, and I do understand that some might say that these conclusions are not matters of course; but I insist that there are self-evident necessities that must be phrased as we do. Thus, we will.

The media, of which this review is a part, will be one of the chief focal points of our social critique. How can any medium not critique the media? It could not and call itself a review. As alluded to above, there is no city more like New York today than the Jerusalem of Jeremiah; or is it that there is no city more like Jeremiah’s Jerusalem than New York today? I could go on with analogies; I could extend them, articulate them further, or deeper, as I like to say when others prefer further. Should there be more lamentations on the state of the State, the country, our cities, our interpersonal relationships, the state of our politics and our politicians, our economy and the vampyrs that control it from Wall Street? Yes, of course there should. And yes, there are vampires.

How much more could be said about the writing is indeterminable. I only know what I think after I have written, so I only know what the writing is after the fact. Existence does precede essence. The writing is what it is how it is when it is for whomever it is who reads it. What is determinable is what gets written when it does get written; the facts around the writing and as a result of having written are the only determinable things about the writing. There is no essential writing before the existence of what has been written. I repeat myself here in other words. What the writing is is only in the writing in itself.


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