_________________ 1. "Youth, oh, youth! | of whom then, youth, art thou born? Say whose son thou art, Who in Fafnir's blood | thy bright blade reddened, And struck thy sword to my heart."
2. "The Noble Hart | my name, and I go A motherless man abroad; Father I had not, | as others have, And lonely ever I live."
OhFortunae
Gender : Posts : 2311 Join date : 2013-10-26 Age : 31 Location : Land of Dance and Song
_________________ 1. "Youth, oh, youth! | of whom then, youth, art thou born? Say whose son thou art, Who in Fafnir's blood | thy bright blade reddened, And struck thy sword to my heart."
2. "The Noble Hart | my name, and I go A motherless man abroad; Father I had not, | as others have, And lonely ever I live."
Lyssa Har Har Harr
Gender : Posts : 8965 Join date : 2012-03-01 Location : The Cockpit
The power of art is such that it evokes forces more timeless than the times one is thrown into, that even your enemies dont want to destroy it…
It shines past beyond race, creed, religion, to even a higher reality principle that you can't but resonate to that deep past within you. Universal art does not mean that distinctions are neglected so as to cater to all, but that it speaks and shines even through all that. In other words, the common denominator is not the lowest [popular art], but the highest of a shared reality, a cosmopolitanical truth.
Greatness in some individuals is also the same. Even the most detested cannot be helped but admired, because they shine with a light, like a piece of art themselves, evoking and touching truths that well in you from a timeless past, sometimes beyond your control, and borders of self-preserving comforts.
On the power of art beyond Xt. oppression/suppression:
How woman act as a metaphor for Nietzsche is really interesting.
One such functional metaphor to Nietzsche is Distance…
Nietzsche wrote:
"When a man stands in the midst of his own noise, in the midst of his own surf of plans and projects, then he is apt also to see quiet, magical beings gliding past him and to long for their happiness and seclusion: women. He almost thinks that his better self dwells there among the women, and that in these quiet regions even the loudest surf turns into deathly quiet, and life itself into a dream about life. Yet! Yet! Noble enthusiast, even on the most beautiful sailboat there is a lot of noise, and unfortunately much small and petty noise. The magic and the most powerful effect of women is, in philosophical language, action at a distance, actio in distans: but this requires first of all and above all - distance."[JW, 60]
Nietzsche wrote:
"Masks. There are women who have no inner life wherever one looks for it, being nothing but masks. That man is to be pitied who lets himself in with such ghostly, necessarily unsatisfying creatures; but just these women are able to stimulate man’s desire most intensely: he searches for their souls – and searches on and on." [JW, 405]
Joseph Campbell wrote:
"As [a man] progresses in the slow initiation which is life, the form of the goddess undergoes for him a series of transfigurations: she can never be greater than himself, though she can always promise him more than he is yet capable of comprehending. She lures, she guides, she bids him burst his fetters…
Dare to not see the profound meanings, the insinuating brilliance in scribbles, in splashes, and drip, drippings. Dare to not hear the magic in noise. Dare to question any subjective view. Dare to laugh at sentences constructed to elude clarity, word-associating depth for the untalented.
With no external standard, all is art, all is beautiful...it's all subjective. The onus is placed on the individual who denies the meanings, if the ideal gains popularity.
Double-edged sword for Nihilists...rejecting an objective standard, outside the minds of men, they must replace it with popularity. They live and die by how many they can seduce, they can assimilate and manipulate. Marketing and image making becomes truth creating.
_________________ γνῶθι σεαυτόν μηδέν άγαν
Satyr Daemon
Gender : Posts : 39804 Join date : 2009-08-24 Age : 58 Location : Hyperborea
Image is the Modern's covering of appearance. His superficial "cultivation" of the present - spin-doctoring, in political jargon, makeup, education, imitation, fashion. Plagiarism is sampling the subjective coverings of another, to construct a "unique" twist.
Fashion, rearranges colours, fabrics, cuts/shapes, like Modern language twisters take a previous ideology and change the hue, the word, the shape of the sentence: spring, summer, winter, autumn lines....for all body shapes and all seasons. The art of altering any appearance, to conceal and reveal selectively, creating a desirable image: social. Mentally this is attained through education. Ivy Leagues are tantamount to fashion houses. Intellectuals famous and effective designers.
Reality the 'problem' of how to shape it to flatter - a recipe applicable to all.
_________________ γνῶθι σεαυτόν μηδέν άγαν
Lyssa Har Har Harr
Gender : Posts : 8965 Join date : 2012-03-01 Location : The Cockpit
"An altogether different nature and different sense obtains in those phenomena, which I term as the analytic aspirations in modern art, shattering and sundering every organic synthesis both of the old natural world and of the old art. Cubism and Futurism in all its manifold hues appears an expression of these analytic strivings, shattering all organicity. These waftings of a final day and final hour of human creativity ultimately disintegrate the old beautiful embodied art, always connected with antiquity, with the crystalising forms of the flesh of the world. The most remarkable results of this tendency obtain in painting.
A genius-endowed representative of Cubism is the artist Picasso. When one gazes upon a picture by Picasso, one then tends to think belaboured thoughts.1 "The happiness of an embodied life under the sunlight has vanished. The wintry cosmic wind has stripped away the veil behind the veil, all the flowers and the leaves have become scorched, stripping away the skin of things, all that was clothed has fallen away, all the flesh, manifest in images of incorruptible beauty, has dissipated. It comes to seem, that never will ensue the cosmic Springtime, never will there be the leaves, the greenery, the beautiful veilings, the embodied synthetic forms. It comes to seem, that after the terrible Winter of Picasso the world will not yet blossom forth, as before, that in this Winter will fall away not only all the veils, but likewise all the objective corporeal world will become unhinged down to its very foundations. There transpires as it were a mysterious coming apart of the cosmos. All more and more it becomes impossible to posit a synthetically-whole artistic apperception and creativity. Everything analytically is dissolved and dismembered. By means of such an analytic dismemberment the artist intends to get down to the very skeleton of things, down to the solid forms, hidden behind the softening veils. The material veilings of the world have begun to disintegrate and shred apart and there is the searching out of the solid substances, hidden behind this softening. In his searching out of the geometric forms of objects, the skeleton of things, Picasso has arrived at a stone age. But this -- is an illusory stone age. The gravity, the solidness and welding together of the geometric figures of Picasso only seems so. In actuality the geometric bodies of Picasso, assembled from the cubic skeletons of the corporeal world, fall apart from the slightest shake. The final layer of the material world, revealing itself to Picasso the artist after stripping away all the veils, -- is illusory, and not real. Picasso -- is a merciless exposer of the illusion of an embodied, materially synthetic beauty. Behind the captivating and alluring feminine beauty he sees the terror of disintegration, dissolution. He, in his sharp-sightedness, sees through all the veilings, the covering cloths, in layers there also, in the depths of the material world, he sees its own deposits of the monstrous. This -- is the demonic grimacings of the fettered spirits of nature. To go still further in depth, and for there still to be no sort of materiality, -- there already is the inward structure of nature, of the hierarchy of spirits. Painting, just like all the plastic arts, had been an embodiment, a materialisation. The highest upsurges of the old painting provided a crystalised and formalised flesh. Painting was connected with a firmness of the embodied physical world and stability of formal matter. But now at present painting is experiencing an as yet unprecedented crisis. If one penetrate the further into this crisis, then it becomes impossible to term it otherwise than as a dematerialisation, a disembodied sort of painting. In painting is transpiring something, it would seem, quite opposite the very nature of the plastic arts. Everything already as it were has become exhausted within the sphere of the embodied, materially-crystaline painting. In modern painting there is no spirit that becomes embodied, becomes materialised, and matter itself becomes dematerialised, becomes disembodied, and loses its solidness, its firmness and sense of form. Painting submerges itself into the depths of matter and there, in the very final layers, it finds there already no materiality. With Picasso the boundaries of physical bodies become unsteady. In modern art the spirit as it were tends to wane, and flesh to be dematerialised. This -- is a very deep jolting for the plastic arts, and which shakes the very essence of the plastic form. The dematerialisation in painting can produce the impression of the ultimate collapse of art. It would seem, that in nature itself, in its rhythm and cyclic-turns, that something irreversibly has fractured and changed. The world has altered its veilings. The material veilings of the world were merely temporary coverings. The age-old attire of being has rotted and fallen away".
All the firm delineations of being have shattered, become decrystalised, stretched apart, pulverised. Man passes over into the state of an object, objects pass over into the human state, one object passes over into another object, all the layers get jumbled, all the planes of being get confused. This new sense of world life attempts to find its expression in Futurist art. Cubism was but one of the expressions of this cosmic whirlwind, sweeping everything from its place. Futurism in all its manifold variations goes even further. This -- is a sequential shattering of the features of the settled state of being, the vanishing of all the definitely delineated images of the objective world. In the old, the seemingly eternal art, the image of man and the human body had firm contours, he was distinct from the images of other objects in the world, from minerals, plants and animals, from rooms, houses, streets and cities, from machines and from the infinitude of the worldly expanse. In Futurist art there are erased the boundaries, separating the image of man from other objects, from the enormous mechanical monstrosity, called the modern city. Marinetti proclaims in his manifesto: "Our bodies enter into the couches, upon which we sit, and the couches enter into us. The autobus is transformed into the houses, alongside which we drive past, and in their turn the houses rush at the autobus and pour off from it". The human image vanishes in this process of a cosmic stretching apart and pulverisation. The Futurists wanted as though with pathos to kill away and reduce to ashes the image of man, always reinforced by the image of the material world separate from him. When the material world is sent reeling to its foundations, the image of man also is sent reeling. The world in its dematerialisation penetrates through into man, and man having lost his spiritual stability dissolves away in the diluted down material world. The Futurists demand a transferring of the centre of gravity from man over to matter. But this does not mean, that they can be called materialists in the old sense of the word. Man vanishes, as vanishes also the old matter, with which he corresponded. "To abolish the "I" within literature, i.e. to abolish all psychology" -- thus formulates Marinetti one of the points of his programme. "Man does not represent any sort of absolutely greater an interest. And thus, expunge him from the literature. Chalk him up finally as matter, the essence of which it is necessary to grasp by bursts of intuition. Discern through his free objects and capricious motorings of breathing the sensation and instincts of metals, stones, trees, etc. Eliminate the psychology of man, henceforth empty, with a lyrical impulse of matter". "Of interest to us is the solidity of the steeliness of the plastic art per se, i.e. the non-conceptual and non-human union of its molecules and electrons, which resist, for example, the pull of the nucleus. The warmth of a bit of gland or of wood is more exciting for us, than the smile or the tears of a woman". "It is necessary, moreover, to catch the gravity and smell of objects, which up to now they have disdained to do in literature. To strive, for example, to convey the landscape of smells, perceptible by a dog. To hearken to motors and reproduce their utterances. Matter always has been investigated by an absent-minded and cold I, excessively concerned with itself, full of prejudicial wisdom and human impulses". The hostility to man, to the human "I" is clearly apparent in the Futurist manifesto of Marinetti. And herein lies concealed a fundamental contradiction of Futurism. The Futurists want to have the growth of an accelerated dynamic and yet they deny the wellspring of the creative dynamic -- man. There is no lever, by which the Futurism could flip over the world. There is no genuine dynamism within Futurism, the Futurists are situated in the grip of a certain worldwide whirlwind, not knowing the meaning of what is occurring with them, and essentially, remaining passive. They are obsessed with a certain sort of process, they spin round in it with an ever growing acceleration, but actively creative they are not. They are situated in the grip of a disintegration of the material world. Futurism possesses an enormous symptomatic significance, it indicates not only a crisis of art, but also a crisis of life itself. Regretably, the agitational manifestos of the Futurists take precedence over artistic creativity. In these manifestos they express their own altered sense of life. But they are incapable to adequately express this new sense of life in the fashionings of art. This creative incapacity is especially to be sensed in the Futurist poetry and literature. What happens is a decrystalisation of words, a flattening down of words, sundering words apart from any sense of the Logos. But a new cosmic rhythm, a new sense of harmony the Futurists fail to detect. The problem with Futurism consists in this, that it is too oriented backwards, negatively attached to the past, too concerned with settling accounts with it and not at all with a passing over to a new creativity in freedom. It is merely a transitory state, moreso the end-point of the old art, rather than the construction of a new art. The Futurists perceive only on the surface the quite profound processes of change in human and world life. But they dwell in a verymost profound spirit of ignorance, with them there is no sort of spiritual knowledge of the meaning of what is occurring, not that intensive spiritual life, which would have made visible not only the disintegration of old worlds, but also the arising of new worlds. A philosophic approach towards apperception is needed within Futurism.
Futurism as regards its sense of life and its consciousness is nowise radical, it -- is merely a passing fancy, moreso the end of the old world, than the beginning of a new. The level of awareness of the Futurists remains superficial and it never penetrates down into the depths of the cosmic changes. They see only the surface level of what changes and stormy world movements are happening. That, what is occurring in the depths, remains hidden for them. They are too servilely dependent on the processes of the disintegration and stretching apart of the old flesh of the world, its material trappings, in order for them to be able to create a new world not dependent upon the external process enslaving them. They are situated under the grip of the process of mechanisation, and their creativity is full of this machine-like objectness. They are liberated from the human bodies, from trees, from the seas and the hills, but they cannot liberate themselves from motors, from the electric light, from aeroplanes. But indeed this is likewise part of the object-oriented world. It is from this that the Futurists create, and not from the creative nothingness of the human spirit. The creative spirit is denied by them, they believe more in motors and electric lamps. The Futurists, given the condition of consciousness in which they are situated, create under the power of the motor and reflect the changes, wrought by the motor in world life. There is no wellspring of the dynamic with them. The Futurists are very shrill in their expressions, but in essence they are hopelessly unassuming and dependent upon the outward world.
Futurism had to have its birth in Italy, staggeringly bent beneathe the weight of its own great cultural past, sapped of strength by this past greatness: Futurism likewise is a new barbarism upon the summits of culture. In it there is the barbarian coarseness, the barbarian wholeness and barbarian ignorance. This barbarism should have effected a change in the decline. But it transpired from a not very great depth. The culture is rending its own particular veils and discovers a not very deeply buried layer of barbarity, and here hence resound loudly the barbarian cries of the Futurist literature from the fissures, formed from the crisis of culture and art."
One of his better videos. Coincidental, as i have lately been studying roman architecture and how the form of Trajan and the high rising Arc motif, was about sanctifying the power of their culture by deliberately imposing a pragmatic aesthetic nurtured by imperial unity.
Now the cheapness and overuse of glass and height, compensates for the lack of rootedness in any land or soil, but, like everything else in modernity, only for mindless efficiency and production and over inflated grandiosity.
Satyr Daemon
Gender : Posts : 39804 Join date : 2009-08-24 Age : 58 Location : Hyperborea
Modern customers, as users of unexamined technology, are everyday imposters: illuminators with toggle switches and dimmers, telepathy artists with fax machines, kinetic jugglers at the wheel of a car, and masters of levitation in a passenger plane. And in the sense that all of these obscure technical objects would not be the way they are without the contribution of designers, we can describe the profession of designer as that of an outfitter for imposters. Designers furnish everyday imposters like myself and everybody else with the accessories for continuing simulations of sovereignty.
The Aesthetic Imperative
Collective genius producing the illusion of parity. Inter-Subjective, inter-dependence - socialized autism. The inferior incompetent one, feels the equal to the competent one (expert, specialist), in a field, and returns the favour by providing this compensation to him and his incompetence, creating a theoretical unity based on incompetence, using Sloterdijk's wording, and specialized, selective competence. Sovereignty through submission. Power through association. The collective knowledge becomes a pool all can draw from and drink from, correcting any genetic inadequacies. Design, as noted, is the one that covers incompetence with a stylistic pleasing interface of competence - requiring only mediocrity to access.
The precision of the male aura in this piece, captivates. A controlled ego, no awkwardness or "off-putting" movement. Only a clenched fist of certainty, complimented by a furious inner spirit. The focused ordered masculine mind, externalized.
Impulso Oscuro
Gender : Posts : 833 Join date : 2013-12-10 Age : 33 Location : Praxis
The precision of the male aura in this piece, captivates. A controlled ego, no awkwardness or "off-putting" movement. Only a clenched fist of certainty, complimented by a furious inner spirit. The focused ordered masculine mind, externalized.
Maybe its just me but it seems his eyes are focused in different directions, with the left gazing off and the right looking at you, his whole right side looks shaded darker than the left...
_________________ Once more, with knowing.
The meek shall inherit the Earth, but the Noble shall take it.
The precision of the male aura in this piece, captivates. A controlled ego, no awkwardness or "off-putting" movement. Only a clenched fist of certainty, complimented by a furious inner spirit. The focused ordered masculine mind, externalized.
Good post, what do you think about dressing in modern times Kvasir, I never cared for suits or clothing in general, all my outfits are several years old and worn down but I began thinking if I should present myself better?, the only thing I do is I cover my arms and chest with casual shirts to not expose my body whilst travelling or working.
Good post, what do you think about dressing in modern times Kvasir, I never cared for suits or clothing in general, all my outfits are several years old and worn down but I began thinking if I should present myself better?, the only thing I do is I cover my arms and chest with casual shirts to not expose my body whilst travelling or working.
This is a good subject to discuss.
I believe there is a distinct difference between "fashion" and "dress". I dress. But I don't dress for fashion. Certain accoutrements go with ones personal taste. I dress differently as seasons change, but only slight changes. I am a creature of habit. I am very simple when it comes to simple things. I hate attracting attention to myself so I only like solid color garments, plain colors, nothing showy. I like cargo pants or work pants and boots. Durable tough clothing is what I stick to. I want my clothes to last, so I'm willing to tolerate a bit of a worn out look.
Moderns not only look like shit, physically, but they dress like it as well. A mishmash of either exaggerated stylish trendy attire, or they just look like dogshit and walk around in shabby disheveled rags. Not to mention modern clothes are poorly made, cheap and hideous. If you take pride in the health of your body, there is no reason why that shouldn't carry over into your clothing appearance, but to a degree that satisfies a taste of efficiency and necessity, not attention. Taking pride in your appearance is a statement to yourself. Nobody else. So keep it clean and simple, I say.
Appearances can be superficial or subtle. I have to admit that I am a sucker for fine wool peacoats and trenchcoats.
Camus wore these thick, aristocratic trenchcoats, I saw a couple of his black and white pictures, it is a fine aesthetic, one looks wise in it, like an owl on a branch. I myself dressed pretty hardcore, for all my teen years I had two pairs of cheapest shorts and 2 pairs of cheapest jeans that I rotated all year round with 3 thisrts and one jumper and one jacket, in my later teens and up until recently dressing all year round in shorts and a black tshirt with worn out reebok trainers. I hate shopping, I get lost in clothing stores, plus I have little interest in how I look to others, which in the past also included me not going to hospital to have my laser surgery to remove my body scars or not shaving and cutting my hair for over a year but I think you are right that one does it for himself and plus I am thinking of finding a wife so I cant look too extreme and trampy. I have come up with the aesthetic that I think looks good on other males which is a militaristic look, like Wermaht, with black leather shoes that I keep polished that reach to an ankle, black, tight fitted trousers that are pulled up and break nicely on a shoe, tucked in, buttoned up shirt with a belt and a black-leather jacket that is square and fitted, I think it looks alright. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] I think it looks good on a man, orderly and serious, but I make my outfit more like a soldier, with squares and everything fully zipped up and tucked, without soft collars etc.
An example of the spirit of the Heroic. One of the more striking pieces I've seen of a depiction of Christ. Makes me think of Michelangelo's Moses sculpture. The. Heroic spirit that knows only the height and breadth of something and has the power to glorify even a figure that represents all that is self-castigating and lowly. The cold calculating gaze and conquering pose, standing over fallen victims of submission beneath his feet, with a pagan landscape in the distance to accentuate an aura of strength. Christ as a warrior, a caste conqueror, but not of lands or armies as this might suggest, but of the base souls of men. An inversion made heroic. Skillful, clever, nuanced, diligently masked.
I hate shopping, I get lost in clothing stores, plus I have little interest in how I look to others, which in the past also included me not going to hospital to have my laser surgery to remove my body scars or not shaving and cutting my hair for over a year but I think you are right that one does it for himself and plus I am thinking of finding a wife so I cant look too extreme and trampy. I have come up with the aesthetic that I think looks good on other males which is a militaristic look, like Wermaht, with black leather shoes that I keep polished that reach to an ankle, black, tight fitted trousers that are pulled up and break nicely on a shoe, tucked in, buttoned up shirt with a belt and a black-leather jacket that is square and fitted, I think it looks alright.