The sublime

As I am contemplating Kant's concept of the sublime (via Iris Murdoch, "The sublime and the good") I am startled by my colleagues' shouts. What now, what now? O has ordered a fly bottle from Germany. My colleages tear up the package. After that, they throw pieces of plastic at each other. After that, they admire the fly bottle for a real long time. O talks about rottening mice. Y talks about rottening mice. My stomach rumbles. The fly bottle looks nice, and now I understand Wittgenstein's metaphor a bit better. "We call the sublime that which is absolutely great." The sublime unsettles our reasoning faculties, which is doomed to fail in its attempts to grasp this Greatness. The sublime is a formless object. The overwhelming effect of the sublime is connected with fear. The next day, T and I enjoy a few beers. A drunken åländer joins us at our table. The bartender has told him we speak Swedish. "All them Finns..." drawls our new friend. The åländer studies to become a captain. He tells us stories about the Sea. When he has finished, he tells us it's time for Jäger. Yes, yes. The barman bring them to our table while the åländer is smoking outside. "Be warned, last time, he ordered 10 rounds!" he chuckles. He is right. In ten minutes, the åländer offers us another round. "the mind feels itself set in motion in representation of the sublime in nature; this movement, especially in it inception, may be compared with a vibration with a rapidly alternating repulsion and attraction produced by one and the same Object. The point of excess for the imagination is like an abyss in which it fears to lose itself."