Satyrnalium

All passionate relationships last as long as there is a common objective to focus shared passions.
All relationships last as long as there remains a common rational or irrational objective placing individuals on a shared trajectory.

From the book....The Manufacture and sale of St. Einstein..


This seems to be a tribal trope...
Did we not witness something similar on ILP recently when one of the chosen tried to reinvent Abrahamism by altering some of the terminology and selling it as a "revolutionary ontology"?
When symbols/words are detached from their anchoring in sensually experienced existence they can be manipulated and used to exploit the minds of desperate degenerates.
Metaphysics disconnected from physics, from physis....from empiricism.
Such a Magian metaphysics finds new harbours in the minds of the needy and lost.
Plagiarism only requires what is necessary in magic tricks....sleight of tongue talents, and a willing and primed audience...oh and shamelessness.

Deception begins with self-deception, if it wishes to outperform other charlatans.
Appropriate corrupt and pretend - exploit the lost and the desperate, the needy, the ones dominated by desire.
Magi/preachers since the beginning of shamans who originally built their reputation on hocus pocus and the power of impressions.
But the originals, at least, had to base their magic formulas on their understanding of nature, whereas as time went by modern pseudo-shamans had to only base it on their understanding of human nature, and most failed at it, only managing to seduce/bribe/coerce the lowest of the low.
But these were more numerous and so quantity became synonymous with quality, and one can overwhelm a noble warrior with a thousand ignoble degenerates. See recent event, how nobility of intent, aristocracy of spirit is quelled and quenched and how those who can never be that mock it.
Simpletons are simple enough to know - like one can know an ape or a dog more than it can ever knw itself (know thyself), and most fail at this simple task - so it is always the most simple, or those made simple by their inability to control their primal, simple, needs/desires.
Denial is how they cope and how they remain as they are - trapped in a solipsistic recurrence.
Eternal return, no?
They cannot escape their ego's defensiveness, or they choose not to - cowardice or stupidity? That is the question.

I'm all for letting people believe and do as they please, if they will agree to not expecting me, or anyone, to be there when they face the consequences.

The attitude of going your own way and radical perspectivism is short lived when the repercussions are not shared.

I don't need to convince anyone of anything. They will live the consequences of their judgements and the choices founded on them.
The only time I feel compelled to convince anyone of anything is when their judgments and choices have an impact to me.

In this globalized world this is increasingly becoming a necessity, if not a duty.

In the darkest night the smallest spark appears to be a raging fire, pushing back the cold with a glimmer of heat that feels like a blazing sun.
Such is the power of memory.

When I gain myself I lose hope, and when I gain hope I lose myself.

I've come too soon or, perhaps, I'm too late.
I am not in sync, a man finding himself dancing to a tune too fast or far too slow for him to keep up with the dance steps.
I am there but invisible, light passing right through without refraction, straight to the point, casting no shadows to conceal my intentions with diplomatic rhymes, word associating myself into obscurity, leaving my shadow in my stead to talk itself into the nothing that it is.
I keep my own inside, holding my heart in darkness, letting none of its burning light disturb what I let pass through me, unobstructed.

This is not the time, this is not my time. This is an end of a time...
And I am tempted to sit in silence, and watch myself pass away before it...further and further out of sync, off tempo, not in time.

The closer I drift to its edge, its event horizon, where all time stops and reverses, the more I want to be swallowed into its powerful mass, its abysmal emptiness, hoping I'll fall back in time.