Alan Watts, you riddler.
Alan Watts, you riddler.
There are four legends concerning Prometheus:
According to the first he was clamped to a rock in the Caucasus for betraying the secrets of the gods to men, and the gods sent eagles to feed on his liver, which was perpetually renewed.
According to the second Prometheus, goaded by the pain of the tearing beaks, pressed himself deeper and deeper into the rock until he became one with it.
According to the third his treachery was forgotten in the course of thousands of years, forgotten by the gods, the eagles, forgotten by himself.
According to the fourth everyone grew weary of the meaningless affair. The gods grew weary, the eagles grew weary, the wound closed wearily.
There remained the inexplicable mass of rock. The legend tried to explain the inexplicable. As it came out of a substratum of truth it had in turn to end in the inexplicable."
Franz Kafka — “Prometheus” trans. Willa and Edwin Muir
You think wearing this on campus would help me make friends? Or would it deter the ones worth making friends with? This is a sticky-wicket. I’m thinking about making a Nietzschean Club - “an experiment”. The first group discussion would have to be about the passage from Zarathustra about losing him (Nietzsche/Zarathustra) and finding yourself; Nietzsche created a serious barrier obstructing any infinitesimal chance of constructing a group in his name. And I think there’s a way around it. If you want to talk about it message me, but, simply: Nietzsche didn’t wish to be anyone’s master in the traditional sense - he wished to dominate others by “giving” them the sense that they were their own masters—alas Nietzsche all the while remains the puppet-master, that’s the trick. The exemplification of this problem is seen in the case of Foucault, the self-proclaimed ‘anti-Nietzschean’…
Anybody else exposed to continental philosophy and then forced to sit through scientistic gen eds? Ugh. I burned my bridge with the other philosophy major in my class and feel alienated and lonely in there now; during break last week I went into this micro-rant about the professor’s closed-minded parrot behavior and how he’s propagating it to the 40 students, probably impressionable students, in our class, and then he stuck me with the cold truth that I’m being just as closed-minded about philosophy. I conceded as one who is humble would do, but fuck him, he’s closed-minded about radical pluralism - it’s a relativism and thus a nihilism if pushed as far as he pushes it, to castigate philosophy, how dare he, bless his heart, but how dare he, science is damned, science is unconscious life and philosophy is conscious death, let the latter reign, for unconsciousness is death. But isn’t dying a bad thing, and therefore isn’t consciousness bad? Of course, and this debate goes on forever.
I came to tumblr because I was closeted about many things and could de-conceal myself here and now that I’ve gotten comfortable with this community I feel hyper-closeted again and seek to seek yet other lands.
"I don’t know whether you have ever seriously faced this issue of why your heart is empty."
Jiddu Krishnamurti, Freedom from the Known
I was thinking… what if killing God were the simulacrum of regicide? That is, what if we shape metaphors about reality, the big G, based on particulars in our environment - or rather our mind-body-composite-self-environment-composite - such as people with lots of power, people “‘imbued’ ‘with’” divinity—not necessarily a king or president but a (biological) parent or teacher? It seems like that would have to be what we shape metaphors on, that God comes second, as an abstraction from the primary, primal substratum of the concrete now (that experts, time doctors, tend to describe as “flowy”). So in conclusion, the above title/concept is backwards, an inversion within an inversion, a metaphor for daylight that flipped around and became sedimented as symbolizing not light but black. Well actually I’m really confused so never mind.
A cure for depression and anxiety: the belief in neuroscience as an Absolute.
Maybe we hate Ayn Rand because we hate the Ayn Rand in ourselves.
This Exemplifies a Pattern of Tumblr: Name and Ambiguous, Enigmatic phrase.
Is there an A1 of personalities? I would like to marry one until the last drop.
Maybe we should sell non- or anti-egoism as chicken nuggets. That way everybody eats it all up. The non-/anti-egoism that is espoused in the above skit and also accentuated by the background, the circle of white in the middle of the light in the middle of the chaos if I’m not mistaken, is good but it’s not barbaric enough; let’s measure spirituality and virtuosity in chicken nuggets - grams, ounces. We need to use a simple symbol of profanity to lure them (ourselves) in. That is the program. Chicken nuggets, the Cock, the buh-kaw buhk buhk, it’s all a ruse, buhkaw buck buck, to keep us in the chicken coop, it’s a jeep - thing you wouldn’t understand.
"17 October. There may be a purpose lurking behind the fact that I never learned anything useful and —the two are connected— have allowed myself to become a physical wreck."
Kafka, Diaries 1910-1923 (via tiredshoes)