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Satyr
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Fri Mar 27, 2015 1:52 pm

What glorious irony when the preachers of miserly life-hatred, hatred of time, call themselves life-affirming spirits.
What glorious irony for the Knights of the Brilliant light to believe they are truly so, and not angles of darkness, and death.

In such an age where all is reversed, and inverted, change is static and static is change...and those who wear the white are dark boils, and those that call themselves humanists, are haters of man.

What parent would lie to his child to protect him from reality?
What man would tell his child comforting white lies to save him from natural need/suffering?

What disgusting, vile creatures these hypocrites are.
They wear white because black death is what they honor, and dream of.
They believe they are so, finding in the reflections they receive from the ones they convince of their own brilliance, mirrors reflecting false light, a validation of their own positive energy.
Semite misers, collectors of stones, hoarders of what others create, calling themselves saviors.

In this age all is turned on its head.
War is peace; weakness is strength; cowardice is courage; stupidity is genius, man is woman; positive is negative...
In this time time does not matter.  
The idea(l) lies outside of it.
All is inverted....consciousness precedes life, value precedes judgment, beauty is not symmetry, appearance is not relevant, multiplicity is one, diversity is same, need/suffering is the negation of pleasure...

All is relative to the observer, and so he decides.
He is center, god, the subjective that changes the objective at will.
Man does not adapt to world, world adapts to man...this humble, humble man.

Such kindness in their passive aggressive viciousness.



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Fri Mar 27, 2015 2:16 pm

Upon what sands does the White Bishop and the White Knight build their churches, and their castles?
Upon the shifting sands of emotion.

Even when they pretend to be rational, adopting scientific lingo, repeating officially sanctioned experts, and using numbers and geometries, they are depending on emotion, to validate their symbols, and lend credence to their fantastically absurd emotive.

And they do so with that cool demeanor of the certain, the fantastic, the absorbed in his own anus worshiper of absolutes.

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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Sun Mar 29, 2015 9:49 am

Upon a pedestal the White ones have climbed, calling out for worshipers, using positive notes, and harmonies, to draw them close...closer, until a crowd gathers at their feet, and they can call them their own.

Detached from the earth they can soar high, dreaming of paradise, and supreme angels, mermaids in their abyss.
Only the highest for one so high.
What is theirs is on another level, because there is no world, no objective standard to destroy their dreams.
Imagination unhindered by the indifferent world turns pure white light- pure fantasy: brilliant, warm, dazzling, heavenly.

And reciting text makes you the ideal.
Now all can be Hellenes.

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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Sun Mar 29, 2015 10:11 pm

I am the Black plague the bringer of misery and death.
I have the reverse Midas: whatever I touch turns to dust; crumbles beneath my fingertips, and whither under the stink of my breathe.
Best you stay away, if pure, and white and clean you wish to stay - if hope is still in you.
Best you stay away if childhood is where you long to be, and day-trips into Hades' kingdom is still thrilling.

And if you recoil before my cold hands, the chill stays with you, for a long while.
No sun, no fire, no blanket sewn from mother's apron stings, can make you forget it.
And if you've breathed in from my internal rot, blossoms will bloom in your stomach, and little changes will reveal your brush with the dark side.

Have you not, already began quoting my words, and like all dark ones refused to offer gratitude to the one who seeded you?
Have you not shaped your attitude to agree with what made you recoil?

Apollo's light does, so, burn after prolonged exposure.
Cancerous mutations emerge and grow upon pristine skin, and delicate hide.




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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Mon Mar 30, 2015 1:07 pm

Hydra, the all annulling monstrosity, comes at the Black Knight with its multifarious heads, each one seemingly separate, with a will of its own, but all connected to a mono-form, a singular body.

The Knight cuts one off, and two more take its place.
The more he hacks away the more they multiply, until his arms become heavy and his brow is drenched in sweat and blood.

Find that central head, that Divine center to cut at.
Find the central themes, the brain/ideas that directs the others.
What flame will burn this creature?



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Mon Mar 30, 2015 8:12 pm

Uprooted, homogenized, processed and pasteurized, the landless ones rise up, over the dirt, to the clouds.
Process released from purpose, finds in masturbation an endless affirmation.
To make love to self, for self, the ultimate turn-on.

When the clouds are reached one forgets about the ground.
All is spirit.
The living forget about the dead.
All is bathed in love, in self-love.

To appreciate self, as if he were an other, unconditionally; to agree with the appreciation one is the product of: to appreciate the universal appreciator.
Shall we rewrite the holy texts?
We need to sell something worn.




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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Mar 31, 2015 10:24 am

What clever games the positive ones play.
They've learned the art of stringing words together, arranged in any order.
Big, impressive sounding words following no logic other than the emotional need to impress to be effective.
Words full of innuendo, insinuating grand things; emotional words, implying, offering, comforting.

The sequence only matters in relation to the desirable effect, the intent.
One word after an other, the before it, then jumbled into one.
Give it a back-beat, a rhythm, in harmony with the heart, and let its effect begin.
Sometimes deep and resonating, making the bones shake, touching you in the most secret places, then trebling, high and fast, making your heartbeat race, swelling veins, hyperventilating, a trance overcoming, hysteria.
The believer is taken by the whirlwind of sensations; words lose meaning, they become notes with their own sound.

String them together, this way, then that.
Backward, forward, sideways, up and down.
Make them dance, make them feel your energy, let their minds settle upon that primal energy, that automatic neurological process, before the cerebral cortex emerges to harness it.
Release the beast, and call it man - the New Man.
 



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Mar 31, 2015 10:35 am

Preacher points to the scripture when confronted by a Dark One, with a non-believer, with the one resisting the positive message, his own salvation.

"Look at what this saint said..." dear boy, he patronizes "...and if you still remain skeptical and resistant to my gift, then be damned. It is too complex for you, perhaps, for even I have trouble with its wisdom, and only feel it in my heart, and know of its truth.
Do not look out there, infidel, look here, in the book THIS Book. Each word is a gem; each phrase a magic spell, an incantation.
Do you not feel its power?
Do you not sense its pull upon you?"  


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Mar 31, 2015 5:38 pm

The multi-headed monster is wearing the face of a unicorn; magical, inspiring, mystical.
It's added a new method to its defensive panoply.

The hero adapts as well.
No longer a hero, but a angel of Darkness, a Black Knight.
You can't kill this beast one head at a time, you must attack its common ground, its body, its huge, bulging stomach.

the heads appear detached from each other; each with a will of its own: its own teeth, its own tongue, its own eyes.

But follow the head to the neck and then way down, to where it is hiding, the shared stomach, that gaping anus, that vagina.
Orifice upon orifice it is.
In its belly many heroes have been digested.
Pieces cut away, the rest defecated, expelled as noxious fumes.




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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Mar 31, 2015 7:33 pm

Monstrosities of a scale find a common lair.
They seek out warm flesh to devour, to fulfill their emptiness, and if none are present they turn hungry eyes on one another and a new feast begins.
For now they embrace, tails wagging, intertwining in loving gestures.
Fangs are sheathed and nails are retracted.
Puuuuring calms agitations.
They gather on the rock to suck-up the solar heat, like reptiles often do.
They beam with Apollo's grace, slumbering, having none of their own.
They dream of being heroes, slaying dragons.

But in the night the masks fall, and white no longer shines as bright; all turning into gray.
And the priest, of white, sheds his garments and behold he was neither white not man at all, but a creature entirely not of this world...A Gorgon, and one of three, as three is the number of the beast...



Is (s)he Stheno, Euryale, or the famous Medusa herself?
Her gaze turning fluidity into solid things, substance, immutable atoms.
Will she bear to see herself reflected in the menagerie of her master's humble robes sparkling with glass he has renamed sapphire?
Will she survive the revelation of her being?
Where there is man and the smell of testicles, there be (s)he sniffing at the crotch, wanting another cock to lead the way.

Harken, brave souls, the White Knight has revealed himself as a Warrior Priest...neither black nor white but ethereal, transparent like a ghost.
Light flows right through him, for he lacks substance of his own.



The glow was not the brilliance of his goodness, but the moonlight reflecting upon his static particles - little glass beads for the natives to gawk at.
He gathers his minions with soothing words of praise, seeing great value in them all - such impeccable judgment, where none is needed, for value precedes it.
He will build a kingdom with such fools "gold" and call himself King.



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Mar 31, 2015 7:52 pm

In the realm of the netherworld, the Under-World all reality is inverted.
Fluid becomes solid, black is white, and white is black, gold is feces and feces is gold, monsters call themselves noble heroes, and noble heroes become monsters...

The laws of nature are suspended, existence alters state, reason is halted and words become magical.

An experiment, a childish game of let's see.
Will a kingdom be build with little particles of glass, reflecting brightly in the sunlight, or will it come tumbling down?
A first mistake cascades into a thousand more, until the avalanche sweeps a fools' castles to the waves.....endlessly crashing against the shorelines.
Such grand schemes the ghostly Warrior Priest has.
He dreams of a beautiful maiden, mountains of gems at his feet....he deserves it all.
And what a good start he's had, as he tells himself.
So much he's already accomplished.
Faulty stones on faulty grounds...shall we watch him build?




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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 7:13 am

In the Universe of oneness, where other is self, and self is other, narcissism loses meaning, love loses meaning, it all becomes self masturbation.
Everywhere the mind looks self emerges, and it loves itself.

Every reflection upon the other is self reflected back.

The schism splits the psyche, the shizoid is now nothing but another image of the one Self.
To exist is to Be that Self.
Identity transported to other.
Madness is the refuge of delicate souls.
Better to be insane than dead.
Schisms protect the brain from the world - a distancing to self-preserve.

The Monster is a shape-shifter, a crafty doppelganger.
Each head protruding from the shared body is a psychological schism which then sees in the other heads a version of itself.
Each head bears a different countenance, adopts a different name, acquires different tastes to feed the shared stomach.
It begins as consciousness of other as food, and then it discovers itself in the other heads, and its new-found self-consciousness slowly develops.
It begins to identity with the all-bonding stomach.

From schism to detachment of self from self.
Identity splits, and then reintegrates with an identity outside itself.
It becomes no more than this Self's voracious hunger, wanting to devour the world.  

What does the Monster know about itself other than its own hunger, and what in the other can gratify it?


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 8:23 am

The High priest of Oneness, this new Cohen, reads from the sacred manuscript as if he were inventing it himself...


Cohen wrote:
It is characteristic of Spinoza that he considers power as power to exist and as power to act.

That ‘[t]o be able not to exist is to lack power [impotentia], and conversely, to be able to exist is power [potentia]’ (1p11d3). As a consequence,

the more reality belongs to the nature of a thing, the more powers it has, of itself [a se], to exist. Therefore, an absolutely infinite Being, or God, has, of himself, an absolutely infinite power of existing. (1p11s)

In a nutshell, power grounds all existence.

In 1p11s he says that the ability of a thing to exist of itself, and hence its power, is equated with the degree of reality of its nature; in other words, any thing has reality to the extent it has power.


Aaaammmmeeeeeennnnn....


Cohen wrote:
Any passion expresses the power of y in x; a positive passion increases x’s amount of actively exercised intrinsic power, and a negative passion indicates to what extent y is able to prevent x from using its intrinsic power in a self- determined way. The power of acting expresses the activity of the individ- ual, whereas passions, expressing the power of external causes, indicate what the individual is not determined to do by its own power alone. In the end, intrinsic power and its relation to the power of external causes forms the basis of finite existence.



Aaaammmmeeeeeennnnn....



Cohen wrote:
things exercise their power not only to exist but to exist according to their definable essences alone; or, they strive to bring about being determined by the unhindered realization of their essences. Thus, I would call conatus the principle of perfect essence realization, and its central idea can be stated as follows: each and every singular thing is a powerful entity which, when it encounters opposition, strives to exist and to  bring about things derivable from its own definition alone.


Aaaammmmeeeeeennnnn....


Cohen wrote:
The main proposition of the conatus doctrine states: ‘Each thing, insofar as it is in itself, strives to persevere in its being’ (3p6, translation modified). This striving, in turn, is designated as the actual essence of all things, human beings included (3p7); in other words, actual Spinozistic things are all strivers of different kinds.


Oooooooiiiiiiiveeeeeeee...

One priest hands over the sacred text to the next in line, the new one changes the words around and preaches on, adapting the scripture to the new environment.

A new monster of old emerges from the mud....a giant Golem...aleph, mem and taph inscribed on its forehead.

The High Priest of White has regurgitates an ancient meal and has served it up as his own concoction....
A newfound Cohen.

How does one defeat this monstrosity?
Changing the letters around will do it.
A monster of words can only be defeated with words.  


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 11:03 am

Be ware, a new queen enters the Under-World, a new creature.

She speaks in strange ways, this new creature of the dark:


Dark Witch wrote:
In the Apollonian world, the animal passion is experienced as overwhelming by the god who guards borders, and it is seen as blind, chaotic, unchained; Resistance to this force by Eluding it, running away from it comes to imply strength.
In the Dionysian world, the animal passion is experienced as intelligent and nature is seen as hypersensitive.
In Apollo's world, indifference is a measure of security and how much one can do without the other - Need.
In Dionysos' world, indifference is a measure of firmness and how much one can affirm/appropriate the other as it is in all their difference - Excess.

How Apollo must tremble...

Dark Witch wrote:
"Now – and this is the point I want to emphasize here – the flowing of the river is not end-governed, but this does not mean that the water masses’ power is not geared towards something definite: water flows to where it is least obstructed, and pushes against any encountered obstacles. Comparing Spinoza’s conception of human agency to a dammed river or electricity taking its path may, at first blush, seem strange; but what principled reason could there be in Spinoza’s naturalism for not using models derived from natural phenomena to illustrate the way we act?

Moreover, the just quoted passages clearly say that human beings are, in essence, joy-desiring and sorrow-avoiding strivers – given this, it appears unavoidable that the idea of a causally potent entity taking the path of least resistance captures rather accurately some important aspects of Spinoza’s mindset."


Who is this damsel of distress?



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 11:27 am

Monsters of order, wish to consume the chaos, turn it into a pile of heaping shit, if need be, just as long as it is placed in its "rightful" place, and given its due appreciation.
They would rather be that pile of shit than consider chaos as determining them, as being necessary.

The monster hates its own monstrosity.
The animal despises animality.
Apollo, the fool, deplores Dionysus.

The minions of Order, of the nil presented as one, crave for the opposite of existence....final Being to end Becoming.
They would diminish themselves as figments, as illusions, as parts, to find this association...this final absolute, relief.
The feminine spirit needs that masculine certainty, that authority outside itself, herself.
Negative, positive, what does the word matter when a final solution, a fabric, a oneness is found and given over to?

How does a father teach a son to be a man?
To embrace chaos, to revel in its suffering?
To not take himself too seriously, but neither too lightly?



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 11:38 am

Poor desperate worshipers of Apollo, how you bathe yourselves in his light and are blinded to the darkness surrounding him.
There you sit, professing to be Dionysian when Apollo's bitch you all are, adorning yourselves with his words, his symbols, dreaming of being gods, no....the God.

Apollo has been morphed into your Jewish mono-deity, and you have given him a different name.
Lost are all the others....including Bacchus, Satyr's god.
All from within the spectrum of life.
The world is life, man is world.
All is ordered.
Ha!!!

And if not man then world is man.

By the gods what infancy we have returned to; what cowardice grips our minds, what pleasure obsessing hedonism directs our thinking.
The usurer uses, and abuses.
He seduces with such delicate kindness, such hope giving, such flattery.
Women, effete men, and children still immature, go to him...flee.
Good riddance.
 


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 11:57 am


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"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:00 pm

Apollo, The Plague-Sender




The Jane Morris Illiad Cuts

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"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:24 pm

Clement Rosset wrote:
"The Spirit is a stomach.

Beatitude implies the recognition and acceptance of all thoughts, including and especially those which are apparently the most opposed to you. Recognition, acceptance, or, still more precisely, ingestion.
There are two species of ruminants: those who ruminate ceaselessly but without succeeding in digesting (the case of the man of resentment) and those who ruminate and digest (the case of the Dionysian man)---good and bad ruminants.
The bad ruminant does not have access to bliss because he is the prisoner of a thought devoted to misfortune; the good ruminant accedes to bliss because he has overcome the thought of misfortune and succeeds in digesting it.
The good ruminant has access simultaneously to bliss and to misfortune, and the destiny of the bad ruminant is to have access to neither to one nor to the other. He does not know bliss since he does not succeed in digesting misfortune, but neither does he know misfortune, precisely because he does not succeed in digesting the thought of it.
The man of bliss has access to everything, and notably to the knowledge of misfortune, while the man of misfortune has access to nothing, not even to the knowledge of his own misfortune. Since the thought of life includes the thought of death, so also and in the same manner the thought of bliss---beatitude---implies a profound and incomparable knowledge of misfortune.
The 'knowledge of good and evil," a secret alliance between misfortune and bliss, the tragic and the jubilatory, the experience of pain and the affirmation of bliss. The forbidden fruit." [Joyful Cruelty: Towards A Philosophy Of The Real]

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"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:31 pm

The White Knight bold and strong considers himself alone, and gathers with his heart, the destitute that have not...

What strange dwellings we have built we moderns
We gather stuff, most of it garbage, and consider it worth saving
Misers, we accumulate, and pile one upon the other, burying ourselves in bric-a-bracs, seeing in them images of ourselves.
Our generosity is the overflow of this garbage, we lost in the mounds of stuff.
we might categorize it to pretend that we still appreciate it, but there it sits underneath all our things, like a visit to the Taj Mahal, or a stroll across a the ancient agora beneath the acropolis, where we picked it up form one of the souvenir vendors for a buck and a half.

The miser collects, as if all others want what he wants, and all others evaluate their self-worth by such ostentatious collections of stuff, with questionable worth, as most of it lacks utility, or would demand such a time to shape and form as would defeat the purpose of its use.
But misers collect just to collect.
Not only things, but others, and most often experiences.
They visit exotic lands and come back invigorates, as if in the visiting they collected something unusual, something new.
Then they place it on a prominent place, to remind them of that visit, the enlightening experience, until slowly new experiences push it back, and under, and it gradually becomes buried under the heap they've collected and put aside. it's only usage now as a display piece, for visitors, to imply that he is cultivated, and that through osmosis he has absorbed more than the mementos, the symbols of insinuation.



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:43 pm


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 12:56 pm


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"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 1:01 pm

The second, the third, the fourth, it all begins with one.

See them waiting for Apollo, now the one and only god, the god of vengeance and the obliteration of chaos, without which no life can come about?
It is Apollo who has been baptized, circumcised, given a new name.
And this second rebirth needs a second messiah.

They all want to be that savior, that representative of the second salvation, before the third, and the fourth - anything but nil.
Eternal recurrence.
The masses must be saved from themselves, continuously; one method giving way to the next, modernized, updated.

Dionysus laughs, and takes another swig from his flask....



Fat, and ugly, and permanently drunk, who would go to such a creature - vine leaves on the head, shaped like satanic horns.

Silenus...

Dearest god, what followers you attract.
What man-tearing women worship you...



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 1:14 pm

When the Semite comes into contact with the Hellene Jesus is born, and then some translator from Tarsus names Saul, picks up the thread, finding opportunity in the strands, and Christianity is born and sold to the pagan rabble.
A new market for the slavish soul.

And what happens when a Semite comes into contact with a German infected with Hellenic wonder?
A new Christianity is born.
After Marxism a new surplus value sharing.


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 1:56 pm











How can you White-wash nature, the reality principle?

Nietzsche wrote:
"May I venture the conjecture, by the way, that I know women? That is part of my Dionysian inheritance. Who knows? Perhaps I am the first psychologist of the eternal-feminine. They all love me — an old story: with the exception of the failed women, the “emancipated” ones unable to have children. — Fortunately I am not willing to have myself torn to pieces: the perfect female tears to pieces when she loves...I know these amiable Maenads...Ah, what a dangerous, creeping, subterranean little beast of prey she is! And so agreeable at the same time!...A little woman, bent on revenge, would run over destiny itself. — Woman is unspeakably more evil than man, more clever also; goodness in a woman is already a form of degeneration..." [EH]


Nature is a Vi(va)cious woman.

Nietzsche wrote:
And when the hero deserts her, the superhero appears."



Nietzsche wrote:
"From the smile of this Dionysus sprang the Olympian gods, from his tears sprang human beings. In this existence as a dismembered god, Dionysus possesses the dual nature of a cruel, barbarized demon and a mild, gentle ruler." [BOT]

The Superhero, the "gentle giant".

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"ἐδιζησάμην ἐμεωυτόν." [Heraclitus]

"All that exists is just and unjust and equally justified in both." [Aeschylus, Prometheus]

"The history of everyday is constituted by our habits. ... How have you lived today?" [N.]

*Become clean, my friends.*
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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Wed Apr 01, 2015 2:17 pm

The White Bishop, preacher of positivity, must spread doubt, skepticism to force the many to settle for the subjective, where he can then inject his poison.

In the personal space the need dominates.
Detached from reality the mind can settle for what feels good, and the White ones feed this need, with praise, flattery, reaffirmation of the need.
It is how the negative comes to be positive, and Nihilism becomes progress.

It could be this, but it also could be that, so how does one decide what is most probable?
Feeling....pleasure....just because...whatever I want, I am sovereign.

An appeal, to ego, or to feebleness?
The answer is reversible, irreversible, irrelevant...the words, as symbols, are detached from the world, the noumenon disconnected. Consciousness can be outside brain, and value preceded judgment, and love can be universal goodness.
The marketing scheme sells to the many, and receives quantity to validate its word-games.

The motive is not to describe reality as accurately as possible, but to describe human desire as universally as possible.
The food of monsters is humanity: human meat, human emotions, passions, reactions.
The miser collects them, and puts him in his vault - memories he swims in.


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Thu Apr 02, 2015 10:34 am

Years of unwarranted cockiness, and a sense of righteousness, has cut weariness into the White Knight.
He now retreats to the self-evident, as if it were his message all-along, and then, emboldened by a spell of quiet, he ventures forth, once more, swinging his blade of absurdity.
The absurd exposing his weak-side is where he holds his shield high, hoping to protect it with humble simplicity, but on his other side arrogance attaining the pinnacle of hyperbolic idiocy cuts away, one slice at a time.

The Judeo-Christian offers his Golden Rule of peaceful coexistence on a blade of childish hubris.

Ahhhh, but the Black One is adept at the fine-arts of duplicity, and the double-edged sword of dualism: it cuts both going in, and retreating out, like a saw.

Have you not heard of Ιανός, or shall we find a more current depiction in the two-faced "victim" of Modern schizophrenia?




Natura Naturans <> Natural Naturata...

Real<>Ideal...phenomenon/noumenon....action/word-number...Flux/Abstraction....Process/Substance...Energy/Thing....

Saw....saw....saw....in, and out....in and out....
A rape scene.
Does the liar believe his own lies?
Only if he wishes to convince those who had evolved a sense of the absurd, or simply feel it and express the feeling as cynicism.

The "white ones" are ambitious, wanting to seduce those high-brow cynics, and resistant skeptics, but their absurdity is too evident for them to have much of an effect.
They fall back on a second strategic goal: the seduction of the simpleton.
With numbers they hope to create a singularity, a black hole, a gravitational pull that will suck all of existence into a Being.

With smiles, and good natured intentions, they sell what they now buy, to become more convincing.

The absurd comes in the form of a word detached from all experience, hovering in some state of limbo, connecting to nothing.
To make it seductive the word is harvested from the book of codes, definitions, and is chosen by its emotional insinuations.
Detached from experience, the phenomenon, this word, this noetic symbol, is reconnected back to a human interpretation: the symbol of interpretation referring back to another interpretation, and preferably to an emotional, instinctive, and therefore, a primal automatic interpretation, outside the mind's immediate willful control, requiring little to no self-knowledge.  

The Christians used many such words but the most effective was Love.
Detached from its reference to reality, it became a mystical, magical, word, referring to an emotion, a primal reaction.
In Marketing this connection of a product with a instinctive, primal, force, is what guarantees unconscious acquiescence, despite reasoning, and sometimes despite awareness of the tactic itself.
The power of the marketed symbol is that it is all-inclusive, positive, as it requires no effort, or minimal effort, to enjoy its rewards - most often it only requires a change of attitude towards it.
Jesus is rational only when you accept Jesus into your heart, you see?
Then the symbol of Jesus as a savior is not only logical but an inspiring, fundamental, force that opens the mind up to infinite positive possibilities.

The absurdity of the Jesus archetype retreats to the self-evident logic of the message of quid pro quo, and is lost in it.  

   

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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Thu Apr 02, 2015 1:26 pm

Confusing the "what is" with the "what ought to be done", which has already settled on a need for intervention, philosophy shape-shifts into politics, and marketing, and psychology - the "what ought to be done to harmonize the masses", the "how to package this 'ought' to make it appealing", and the "how to break it to them, or how to deal with the side-effects of this 'ought' upon them".

Th Symposium has been opened up to the boy and the woman, and they listen to what they despair over, and vengefully oppose, becoming mad, hysterical, their anger turning to hate, accusing the participants of intending it.
And a preacher is always present to manipulate, and direct this hysterical mob.

Zombies directed by the self-infected, to mask their smell, offered blood, and meat, at some coming time.
The Doctor becomes ill.
Healing his patients is a self-healing, and when all cures fail rename the dis-ease health, and open the doors to empty the hospital wards.
Streets full of "healthy" monstrosities.

        



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Thu Apr 02, 2015 1:50 pm

Who, but a Heart of Darkness could tolerate the terrible reality of time, and the absence?

Only a stomach full of caustic liquids could digest it.
For the rest, with a more delicate peptic constitution, it has to be diluted, cooked down, combined with other nutrients to make it appealing - presentation when the eye tastes before the tongue.
If we would dare summarize philosophy it would be the slow-cooking process of turning rotting bio-matter into a palatable, impressive, first to the eye and then to the tongue, dish.

Everything from eternal afterlife to the eternal recurrence has been a display of culinary artistry; blood turned into a delicious sauce to pleasure the senses, and prevent heartburn; every famous intellectual a gifted saucier...a sorcerer.




Dead and decaying things arrayed in pleasing forms, promising life, feeding need - a continuance of construction founded on destruction.
That was the insight Socrates came back to Athens with, after the war - after his long contact with human destructiveness to find tyrants back home:
How to reduce down the liquid to a thickness the tongue could taste.
How to separate ingredients to promote some and use others as "place holders", and frames.
How to burn away the undesirable and leave only the palatable, the nutritional.
How to break it all down for a baby to drink, and grow.  

Need finding negation before suffering.
In superfluous human environments made so easy, so simple, so clean.
Man forgets the suffering and immerses himself in the pleasure of satiation - in the ritual of a refined dinner.

How do you explain to a spoiled brain how pain is part of his meal, that intercourse is about imposition, whether consensual or not, that risk is deadly, and no declaration of bankruptcy can cleanse it away, that the rush of a treadmill run is not the same as stress outside the gym walls where a broken tooth and a sprained ankle means death?
How do you discuss reality with the infantile, the man-child, the wo-man?  

You don't...



You simply hold a dinner party and invite them to partake from your generosity.
Call it a book, and yourself a writer, a thinker, a....philosopher.




Let's eat from this bounty of pain and suffering, and forget.
Better still, let us never know, and in our ignorance find innocence.
Let us lose ourselves in the sensation of decreasing our own suffering, and call it good, and bathe it in flickering white candlelight, civilizes musical notes, accentuating its colors, and shapes; odors and sounds adding to the magic.

Who are the monsters here?




Bon apetit...


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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue Apr 07, 2015 10:42 pm

What meaning does light have without darkness?
What meaning does black have without white?

Both are signposts to orient the Will, combined into the multiplicity of colors of which the human brain can make sense of a few.

Black<>White corresponding to 1<>0.
Near absolute order<>near absolute chaos, and in between existence, and beings, emerging, out of the order/chaos, setting the concept of time as a measure of increasing chaos, or linear time, against which life, as a conscious ordering, emerges in antagonistic reaction to.

How to think outside these symbols, when the brain has evolved to simplify in this binary, absolutist, simplified/generalized way?
SOME-thing-NO



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PostSubject: Re: Paralogismos Tue May 05, 2015 7:22 pm


Stay stupid my friends.

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