one knows how such a state of affairs came to pass, except through the wisdom (or folly) of religion and myth. * But, semiotically speaking, it is possible to describe the consequences.
As a consequence of the unprecedented appearance of the triad in the Cosmos, there appeared for the first time in fifteen billion years (as far as we know) a creature which is ashamed of itself and which seeks cover in myriad disguises.
One semioticist defined the subject of his study as the only organism which tells lies.
The exile from Eden is, semiotically, the banishment of the self-conscious self from its own world of signs.
The banquet is still there, but it is Banquo in attendance.
The self perceives itself as naked. Every self is ashamed of itself.
The semiotic history of this creature thereafter could be written in terms of the successive attempts, both heroic and absurd, of the signifying creature to escape its nakedness and to find a permanent semiotic habiliment for itself—often by identifying itself with other creatures in its world.
Among Alaskan Indians, this practice is called totemism. In the Western world, it is called role-modeling.
The question must arise: What is the nature of the catastrophe of the self? Is the catastrophe nothing more or less than the breakthrough itself, the sudden emergence of the triadic organism into a dyadic world? And is the predicament of the self the price of naming and knowing? Or is the catastrophe a subsequent event, a bad move in the exercise of its freedom by the sign-user? Is it a turning from the concelebration of the world to a solitary absorption with self?
It is fruitful to speculate on the possible nature of other intelligences (ETIs) in the Cosmos, if they exist.
Presumably, they too have achieved the triadic breakthrough. Might they not have achieved the world of signs without succumbing to the terrible penalty? Might there not exist preternatural intelligences who do not necessarily share the shadow-life of the earth-self?
Much of current speculation about the nature of ETIs— what level of technology have you achieved?, etc.—is misguided. The first question an earthling should ask of an ETI is not: What is the level of your science? but rather: Did it also happen to you? Do you have a self? If so, how do you handle it? Did you suffer a catastrophe?
XII
As soon as the self becomes self-conscious—that is, aware of its own unique unformulability in its world of signs—from that moment forward, it cannot escape the predicament of its placement in the world.
An organism exists in its environment in only one mode, that of an open system responding to those segments of its environment to which it is genetically programmed to respond or to which it has learned to respond.
But a self must be placed in a world. It cannot not be placed. If it chooses by default not to be placed, then its placement is that of not choosing to be placed.
Some Traditional Modes of Self-Placement:
(a) Totemistic.
The self, here drawn as a dotted circle because it is problematical to itself, finds its identity in one or another of the resplendent signs of its world, especially those possessed of those qualities most admired by the self: animals, trees, clouds, thunder, sky, falcon.
Q UESTION: What are you?
A LEUT INDIAN: I am bear.
Q UESTION: What are you?
M OVIE ACTRESS: I’m a Leo.
(b) Eastern Pantheistic. The self is identified with God, the God which is everywhere in the world, including one’s self, yet behind the illusory appearances of world-signs. Therefore, God is to be found in the true depths of the self.
Both the world and the self are problematical. The self becomes itself by identifying with God, who is found both in one’s self and behind the maya of the world.
Who are you?
I am Atman, which is to say God in myself, but also Brahman, the God of the Cosmos.
(c) Theistic-historical (Judaism, Christianity, Islam). The self becomes itself by recognizing God as a
As a consequence of the unprecedented appearance of the triad in the Cosmos, there appeared for the first time in fifteen billion years (as far as we know) a creature which is ashamed of itself and which seeks cover in myriad disguises.
One semioticist defined the subject of his study as the only organism which tells lies.
The exile from Eden is, semiotically, the banishment of the self-conscious self from its own world of signs.
The banquet is still there, but it is Banquo in attendance.
The self perceives itself as naked. Every self is ashamed of itself.
The semiotic history of this creature thereafter could be written in terms of the successive attempts, both heroic and absurd, of the signifying creature to escape its nakedness and to find a permanent semiotic habiliment for itself—often by identifying itself with other creatures in its world.
Among Alaskan Indians, this practice is called totemism. In the Western world, it is called role-modeling.
The question must arise: What is the nature of the catastrophe of the self? Is the catastrophe nothing more or less than the breakthrough itself, the sudden emergence of the triadic organism into a dyadic world? And is the predicament of the self the price of naming and knowing? Or is the catastrophe a subsequent event, a bad move in the exercise of its freedom by the sign-user? Is it a turning from the concelebration of the world to a solitary absorption with self?
It is fruitful to speculate on the possible nature of other intelligences (ETIs) in the Cosmos, if they exist.
Presumably, they too have achieved the triadic breakthrough. Might they not have achieved the world of signs without succumbing to the terrible penalty? Might there not exist preternatural intelligences who do not necessarily share the shadow-life of the earth-self?
Much of current speculation about the nature of ETIs— what level of technology have you achieved?, etc.—is misguided. The first question an earthling should ask of an ETI is not: What is the level of your science? but rather: Did it also happen to you? Do you have a self? If so, how do you handle it? Did you suffer a catastrophe?
XII
As soon as the self becomes self-conscious—that is, aware of its own unique unformulability in its world of signs—from that moment forward, it cannot escape the predicament of its placement in the world.
An organism exists in its environment in only one mode, that of an open system responding to those segments of its environment to which it is genetically programmed to respond or to which it has learned to respond.
But a self must be placed in a world. It cannot not be placed. If it chooses by default not to be placed, then its placement is that of not choosing to be placed.
Some Traditional Modes of Self-Placement:
(a) Totemistic.
The self, here drawn as a dotted circle because it is problematical to itself, finds its identity in one or another of the resplendent signs of its world, especially those possessed of those qualities most admired by the self: animals, trees, clouds, thunder, sky, falcon.
Q UESTION: What are you?
A LEUT INDIAN: I am bear.
Q UESTION: What are you?
M OVIE ACTRESS: I’m a Leo.
(b) Eastern Pantheistic. The self is identified with God, the God which is everywhere in the world, including one’s self, yet behind the illusory appearances of world-signs. Therefore, God is to be found in the true depths of the self.
Both the world and the self are problematical. The self becomes itself by identifying with God, who is found both in one’s self and behind the maya of the world.
Who are you?
I am Atman, which is to say God in myself, but also Brahman, the God of the Cosmos.
(c) Theistic-historical (Judaism, Christianity, Islam). The self becomes itself by recognizing God as a
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