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|One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. -Nietzsche|
December 28, 2010
Investing in Answers
Investment policy met a system of attainability -- and sparks flew.
Most things are just...things: utterly replaceable, of no great loss if stolen or destroyed, other than a minor annoyance to buy them again. A few replaceable things attach experiences, such as faithful designer clothing and fast cars, but the memories won't attach to replacements. The allure of the original item is that it helps remind.
Then there are pure experiences, the best use of money other than books and musical instruments. Like bribing politicians, experiences are remarkably inexpensive for what you get. If you move quickly, you can buy a ticket to watch the rawness of a preeminent musician from a few feet away, or travel to a location that will echo within you for a lifetime.
Even an entire world-class day in NYC can be had for under $1000 and that manner of living invigorates your soul for months, proving the investment value of the arts, adventure, and great food. Cut out the bar tabs, cable bills, netflix, and other unrewarding and numbing robotic consumption habits and you'll find the same money goes farther when spent on something suitable for humans.
Unknown potentials suggest what could be, but the competition of tempting opportunities paralyzes when most paths are exclusive, contradictory, or open for just a short while. The solution to this is absurdly simple: pick the most enticing one and meet its bluff to see what it really is, no matter what you have to do. Often the answer is not pleasing, as much masquerades to benefit by deception, but every situation can be forced to a call.
Either it folds and shrinks away or it reveals its hand. In either case, this approach is successful because it finds a new direction to pursue or crosses off a maybe from the list of contenders. Accordingly, every answer is a good answer. May we be rich in answers!
Discovery is triumphant where talk and excuses are not. The economic expense is worth it, not just as an experience of exploration and recognition that every thing, person, city, and event are fully available, but also for the clarifying freedom that untangles contingencies of consideration.
In a better world everything would be as plain as we are. Alas, we have only this world, so must go forth ruthlessly to denude all that conceals truth and attempts to entice us with chimeras. Not only do we benefit, but we benefit the world when deputized as inspectors of promise and enforcers of reality, fiercely pursuing tempting prospects and beating down all bluffs and misrepresentation placed before us.
Experimenting with Selfish Communication
To find out anything, you must discard assumptions and expectations to attempt experiments. By fully testing parameters you can uncover what relations and expanded boundaries are possible.
Phone calls and email are not beneficial because they are mostly requests to perform work for others. It's rarely worth the time to check them and they should be treated as low priority, scanned every week or two at most. By mostly ignoring them, they do not interrupt.
My phone stays in the car and I catch up on phone calls only while driving. I prefer to see friends in person, not talk on the phone or send email, and I politely decline requests to perform work for others. They'll do fine without me.
Oil and Kindness Enough
Breakups are fun and exciting for their definitive assessment that we cannot make a life together; we cannot even make next week enjoyable so should part ways forever.
But this grand proclamation like all ostentatious gestures is mostly fraud and concealment. The feeling may be genuine, but its cause remains hidden unless she was caught in the act. Women are smart and know the danger and pointlessness of telling the truth. When she says she doesn't think the relationship could work, she's right! She has a new one ready and you are now an irrelevant annoyance.
Insightfully correct! How could you have a relationship when she is involved with someone else? And it is not just her other lovers that has killed it for you, but that she no longer cared enough to stay away from flattering suitors. A man can accommodate a harem with special love for each bride, but woman tends to be especially treacherous with old lovers, fabricating negative, inflated tales about how awful the man was, how naive she was to spend a year with such a wretched man, and with apparent amnesia for what they had together and the actual cause of its demise.
The tell precedes the grand declaration for separation. She becomes argumentative about the trivial, an adamant killjoy, silent and standoffish, withdrawn, pursuant of fantasy, ratcheting up the tension while trapping herself so she can then make an overacted escape. Now until the near end, the couple can't have warm interactions or do anything interesting, and honesty was long ago slain. At the first sign of this bitterness, an impartial referee can call the relationship over -- the rest is a mess of sloppy drama, bad acting, and implausible dialogue.
And still this too is but nature's handiwork and should evoke a smile and appreciative nod like watching fresh life stirring on a spring morning. It is rare that two people could share interests, passions, goals, and outlook, so most attempts fail, which is far better than being obligated for life to a silly creature you once found interesting.
With benevolence and pragmatism, you should encourage the unhappy to leave, for mutual benefit, as there's no point carrying dead weight. We're in the 21st century and have progressed to free market laissez-faire relationships, rendering marriage and dating obsolete, needing no fictions or play acting to artifically bind us. If we enjoy someone's company, we will choose to spend time with them and when it has run its course, we can part amicably.
Life offers no promises, and we should not seek to make false ones.
Chorus of Castrati
Hippies imposed their values and worldview from souls that no longer burned with fire, exhausted by drugs and oversocialization, deluded by fantasies, maleducated, and thirsting for revenge. Hungry for praise, they eulogized nature and proclaimed themselves enlightened and champions of the weak, broken, and defeated. What could uphold civilization after renouncing manliness and vigor?
They were non-violent because they were incapable of successfully wielding violence. They renounced material gain because they could not acquire it. They objected to reality in favor of altered consciousness, repositioning themselves as consumers of novel amusements to look away from life.
The hippie promised unlimited fantasy. The unathletic could be great athletes, the passionless could be fantastic composers, the dull could aspire to more than feeding and dressing themselves. If someone could not become what they were not, a secret oppression was to blame. They yearned for the dysfunctional half-man to be king.
The rebel has the same anger as the moralist, both agitating to upheave society and leadership not because of what man has denied him, but because of what nature has denied him.
But even if the moralist simply turns to the individual and says "You should be such and such!" he does not stop making himself ridiculous. The individual is a slice of fate, both ahead and behind -- one more law, one more necessity for everything that is coming and will be. To say to the individual, "change yourself," means wishing that everything should change itself, even retroactively. And there really have been consistent moralists; they wanted human beings to be different, namely virtuous, they wanted them made in their own image, namely as bigots. To this end, they denied the world! No small lunacy! No modest sort of immodesty!
After clearing away these complicated obscurant structures, all reality is solely derived from nature. Opposition is fruitless -- she rules even if you dislike her rule.
Dissuaded By Nothing
Whatever happens, whatever anyone does, has no effect on our actions or disposition. Society could collapse and everyone resign, but our path shall remain unchanged, honorable and loyal to eternal principles of right, amidst death, chaos, and confusion.
We are the steady force against all that vacillates and blows in the wind. We worry not about our fate or temporary advantage, but stand resolute in our unbroken essence.
The prospect of inevitable death changes nothing, nor do we panic before apocalyptic prospects, but rather accept and face them. Others might compromise and debase themselves, but we will calmly remain whole and yield nothing, never forsaking the sacred, never leaving our centered position, come what may.
We care not if we too sink with the rest and perish as the entire project of humanity is lost. Until the end we will be steadfast and undeterrable. We know our purpose and remain firmly in place, unmoved despite all externality.
The outcome is shaped by the goal. Do you want truth or a judgment-free soccer game tilted so everyone wins?
There is nothing necessarily wrong with narratives, but the narrator is typically unskilled, sloppy, illogical, timid, self-justifying, a liar, and a salesman. Facts are conveniently overlooked and excluded, irrelevant events are included and inflated, emphatic accents are put in all the wrong places as clumsy sleight of hand, and the presentation is organized around an ideological fiction that is "proven" by the unfolding of the phony story.
This work of alley graffiti is encased in a museum ready frame and put on display as a respectable educating tale. The information presented, whether someone's cleansed and oblivious rendering of an event in their life or a scholar's mangling of history or art, is shamelessly promoted as truth from which others can gain insight, despite the deceiver's typically transparent motives and biases.
To most this is a mere detail. Life is easy; what does truth matter? The lie is the same as truth -- just another opinion, and the liar is forgiven and considered equal to a truth teller. That scientists and scholars are corrupt propagandists is similarly excusable. After all, they too need to eat, which they afford by vouching for positions their patrons favor while staying silent about problematic truths. Their goal is victory at any price, with deception and fraud excusable means for their end.
We have 500+ channels of irrelevant nonsense, though with little more effort they could say something that matters. Rather than discarding narratives, we should discard narrators who fail to apprehend reality and honor truth by retelling stories without distortion, censorship, and swindling.
Smug Rational Decline
Totality was replaced by flimsy, disjoint mathematical models that cut corners for simplicity. The gods were consolidated into a single god (The German Christian God), then abolished upon realization we could combine our superstitions into detached, segregated causes and effects that always remain confined to the examination area. As individualism flourished, we accordingly imagined everything in the universe could be separate; humanistically floating through space on islands enclosed in hermetic bubbles.
From this enlightened ability to see only a step or two ahead while hurling through infinite space, consequences too were abolished as obsolete, replaced with idealized fantasies of desired outcomes unpinned from the oppression of reality, liberating the inner hippie monkey to do whatever they feel like and deny the result and reason.
With the growth of atheism, our irrationality no longer had an encompassing metaphor and playground. It could only see the world in the crude mechanism of isolated causes and effects -- never with any bigger conception than the immediate and isolated. When the voice of atheistic self-assurance asserted itself, it appropriately made society irrational, crazy, and ignorant of essential comprehensive interconnectivity.
Polytheism was more dynamic, artistic, and robust.
Miscarriages big and small
Evasive excuses and explanations
Path of an Artist
1. Decoding the substance of popular and praised art. "Oh, that's all
And Your Heart's the Moon
How do you tell someone you love that their dysfunction is destroying everything around them?
A few Russians have tried in vain to tell their countrymen, but could change nothing, despite their work being well known. Anti-intellectualism firmly triumphs when the best ideas are readily available, even well known, but are not suppressed for their insight and consequences. Such a social climate is tolerant of all ideas, with all considered merely equal, often dismissed as just another opinion or theory, so none are deemed preeminent or modestly important, and thus no action is taken. The danger described typically comes to fruition as predicted, and though the fate of centuries hangs in the balance, all sentient people can only warn and then watch the disaster align its forces to enact its crippling damage.
In Mussorgsky's operatic adoption of Pushkin's Boris Godunov, the dynamics of the mob and mob manipulators illustrate a society without intellectual brakeshoes on corrupt excesses. With everything on the line and the dreadful consequences obvious, the Russian Revolution still happened, burying Russia for centuries.
Peril of Individualism
Individualism asserts a person's right to be free of judgment, critique, and even truth. Accordingly, they must be abandoned as inaccessible to the world, lost between stupor and coma, having effectively cut off all possible avenues of feedback from reality including FREE INFORMATION about the likely short and long term consequences of their choices.
Individualism forces others to resign saying "Well then I'm not responsible for you" which means no one is, including the person doing themselves unabated harm, and nothing will change until attrition has paralyzed them.
It is a poison thought.
The Artist denudes costumes to reveal the heart
Artists are articulators of the universe, standing far from the tepid mob of office zombies, day laborers, and parroting students. The artist necessarily disregards cliches and polite lies that oversocialized people build for a safe place to lay idle until they die. The artist is a threat precisely because he takes no interest in false conventions and provides a path to truths that others block and obscure.
The artist lives in a vivid world, compared to the gray world permitted by typical discourse, and his attempt to convey his vision makes the bland, constrained, misrepresenting, and mechanicalized world more fertile. Instead of appealing to expectations and predictable repetition, the artist communicates what is possible and what is truly at hand -- a great gift in era of delusion and conformity.
The artist is not a rebel or contrarian, though often stands apart from trends and prevailing beliefs through innocent unawareness of them. He is an interpreter by instinct with a spirit never eroded or tamed, going where he must without deferring docility.
The artist desires nothing easy, safe, or already done. Anything striking or feral that drives his interest for exploration, grasping, transformation, and ultimately an expression capturing its essentiality. Neither apologist nor moralist, he is a well tuned instrument that senses and penetrates to every core to glean its salient aspects. His curiosity is closely related to the adventurer and explorer, but he discovers and uncovers whatever is before him without need of exotic lands. Accordingly, he is at home everywhere and even exotic lands immediately make sense and fit into his natural continuum of experiences.
The artist is experimenter and inventor. "No one else would do it this way, but I see how it can be done." The whole world is his workshop and gymnasium. If any attempt does not meet his standards, he may shelf the idea for a later approach to attack it from a different point. He knows what he is made of and can do. As free spirit and empty vessel, he is loyal to his capabilities and spills his passion into everything around him.
Death and Danger
We get one chance to test chemistry. If a companion irrecoverably blunders -- or worse -- fails to stir our passions, we must abandon them to the wild where the wolves will do with them what they must.
The thrill of a possible match entices and enlivens with its precious fragility. So easily wrecked, whether by you, her, something real, or something imaginary, and then made immediately irrelevant and irretrievable as a corpse rendered inaccessible to life. The botched relationship is a type of death, a possibility lost forever, a thousand potentials spoiled that can never be, and yet from that consequence you are rewarded by having seen into its essence to reveal what it truly was.
All tragedy is lacking here. Life must go on -- cast the ashes into the wind and keep going.
I know how to burn with passion
In the Long Sun
In the long sun, light breeze, and amidst warm spirits
Learned from a diplomat -- never speak negatively about anything, but gravitate toward the inspired, inspiring, and productive. Also, feel with utter abandon and curiousity; and then all necessary words will always be at hand. When asked to compare between two choices, mention only the positive traits of either, for that respectfully suggests one desires only to experience and interact with the positive, that which is appropriate to their spirit.
Mediterraneanizing and unreachable until September, like the summer into rough hands.
Normalcy -- many more beautiful women have lunch at noon rather than 11 or 1. Similarly, has any woman ever done an all-nighter without drugs or compulsion, i.e. on their own accord from inspiration or passion? Women are steady, balanced, rational, centered, sensible, practical, delimited, and brakeshoes on excess and outliers; men mostly reckless vagrants, willing gamblers, imprudent dreamers and renouncers of utilitarianism. Thus men and women disagree when together and necessarily have different worldviews, but when good natured can temper the flaws and short-sightedness of the other.
Something Good to Die For
Gray pig: salesman and fabricator of every delicious lie, holy poisoner of free spirits, plotter of bondage and cripplage by vertiginous engagement. Amorphous, fashionable, surrounded by popular friends and sycophants, desiring freedom from scrutiny, actively resistant to being looked in the eyes, preferring costumes, middlemen, circuses, and grand fairy tales.
Against the prevailing tide, the perpetually feral stride purposefully with their own compasses and loyalty to gods insistent upon truth before pleasure and other petty personal concerns. Thusly do we honor life by merging with its torrential flow as expendable but unyielding soldiers.
Eternally turning away from every easy escape, as faithful agents of infinitude, steadfast and resolute in exploration to taste much and discard what does not belong to us, defending to the death what is ours, forever at war against pigs, sheep, soothsayers, jumblers, opiatics, and other enemies of life.
With neither sweet tooth nor numbness, no pain or truth denied a home. Death for a purpose welcomed, beckoned, seduced -- a bargain price for a deserving destiny. Who could deny us this perfection? By rejecting capitulation we are the lonest wolves: fierce, voracious, unrushed, undeterrable, and though alone in wandering, joyful and unblemished in spirit unbogged by collars or curfews.
We were made for frontiers to go forward and back, inculcate, break taboos, cross-pollinate, dispel illusions, mock fraud, demonstrate improbable counter-examples, instruct through relentless focus, reconnect vital organs severed by demons, and advocate for bare life and simple dealings.
Everything plain and uncomplicated, we play and sleep unburdened and thankful in the open air.
Premises of romance
Instability is a thousand times richer than certainty
I exist entirely among exceptions discovered, created, and nurtured, and always find firm enough footing to love this way without question, but also unable to offer any example or advice to others, except to not give up and give in to all the easy ways out through which souls are lost forever.
Deliberate instability keeps boredom, routine, and tedium far away. Free of anchors, almost everything is possible.
As They Fall
Dominoes in motion - First marriage became obsolete (from the absence of trust) and without that target, dating too was immediately irrelevant, a sort of madness of chasing a foundationless premise like that seen in humanists insisting on Christian values and morality as sacrosanct while rejecting Christianity and Christ.
The process of mass utility by reduction to lowest common denominator
overlooks that everything of value is also rare and fragile, with its
extinction echoing throughout the social ecosystem. In nature there is
no such thing as individualism, nor do animals make brutal mistakes like
solipsism or hedonism.
Intelligence is massively overrated
Success doesn't require intelligence or creativity. Most successful people have neither. Most intelligent and creative people waste their abilities by failing to focus them and not understanding how others are successful. If many stupid and untalented people can be successful in big and small ways, why can't someone who is supposedly smart and creative?
- the organized (make and stick to plans, adjust them to changing realities, organize groups, deep thoughts not neeeded)
Paint wide swatches in provocative hues, accompanied with basic map topography, clear edges, properly scaled relations, and tempting hints -- but no details about the inner contents. That is reserved for dear friends.
Impassioned -- whether creating music, waging war, or loving with another, a profound awareness of preciousness pervades the moment, combining wonderment with appreciation.
"Look what we are able to create together, for each other, a dream for others but for us something we live."
These beautiful exceptions should be nurtured and drawn out until they eclipse all else so that you can only look at the other as a partner in delightful magic: another capable of sharing intimacy, defying the world's banality, and worthy of your best efforts.
Art and Play
Though almost any lively soul is enjoyable, upon my rebirth I insisted on only facing the world sans blinders, harness, and choke chain, discarding too the whip as impersonal, choosing to spank bad girls by hand rather than indulge their chaotic dissolution.
The greater sin still: boredom (specifically how one permits this of themselves or others) -- and its cousin -- ritualistic duty, typically bad taxidermy occupying the living room to create the illusion of stability attainable by passive observation and belief in symbols more than reality. Safe in a bunker, so safe that nothing great is ever encountered.
Spring and summer as especially sacred seasons for play, romance, travel, exploration, and every wonderful stirring. Accordingly, all obligations are canceled well into September to match nature's pulse of surging life with days stretched for deep fulfillment and inviting nights to sustain good company.
We are the same as the flowers blossoming or trees rich with fruit. Who cares if animals pluck away in the darkness? We are infinite and overfull, so too are we unhinderable and impervious to robbery, bad weather, personal concern, dissuasion, and being pulled under by the drowning.
Earthy rather than earthly, between cardamom and tamarind, often cinnamon in spirit: spicy sweet with subtle sultry teases, a little dark and playfully hot, raised in fertile organic soil forever close to what is appropriate for us and growing fuller thereby.
Clawing the Bottom of the Barrel
I can think of no worse spiritual suicide than hedonism and no surer way to miss and obstruct the most profound and sustaining joys of life. From experiment and experience, every great moment comes from inspired and directed behavior, never from the consumption of packaged amusements and distractions.
We will all be dead so soon -- please no glowing screens of inanity or pathetic attempts to escape reality. Rather: go forth to open doors and spill yourself into the world, distinguishing yourself from the masses who do nothing, believe in nothing, and consequently accomplish nothing because they resist standing with an honest orientation toward life and humanity.
Forever adventure, gladly performing hard and necessary work, if need be forsaking sleep, food, and basic comforts -- sustained instead by inspiration, desire, a smiling soul, and respectful appreciation for tasks which call you. Never shying away from being over our heads when a great path has been chosen for us, but making ourselves ready for all it asks of us so we can meet it with a level gaze.
Why resist any worthy calling when we could instead expend ourselves into it to birth rewarding outcomes enriching reality and our proximate environment? All life is a mischievous cheating of death! Therefore let us be treacherous villains defrauding death on a grand criminal scale rather than passive condemned inmates ritually playing solitaire until we listlessly expire one idle night.
Into the Beyond
How sweet is every fruit of life when the scythe has been waved before you and improbably forestalled and evaded for the moment. From this experience comes renewed innocence, invigorated acceptance, and still more invulnerability from all petty misbehavior.
An appreciation of the preciousness and temporal quality of somethingness pervades all senses along with awareness of how a sudden ending makes for a terribly stupid and unsatisfying narrative -- and how much dies undone, could have been done better, and what tremendous unexplored wonder would have been left stillborn. Great art is now seen still richer, subtler, more tender, more human -- a playful battle between the secret agents of animated self-organization against the dissolution of chaotic unravelers.
Neither philosopher nor artist care about the material world, not from opposition or judging it vulgar so much as its simplicity reveals nothing about the roots of meaning, spirit, or expression -- and even strives to block such explorations. Their spirits are perpetually turned toward transcendent transformation and thirsting to reach beyond the edges to uncloak and accept greater reality whether beautiful or horrible. Here they are at home with every contradiction, able to devote themselves to all causes, even acting schizophrenically without symptoms.
Not perpetually running from the security of the middle from discontent, but from insatiable curiosity and ability to fund ridiculous exploratory missions with an excess of energy, speculation, and desire. It's never done until it's done, but it will surely be over too soon.
Until then I love every taste.
With preemptive politically correct apologies: if you need alcohol to express yourself freely -- you're retarded.
You can get drunk to hide from your problems, and when awareness returns your problems will remain unaddressed, a little heavier from the delay, a little stupider from your denial. Repeat as needed for drowning.
When you get high to run away from yourself, you can only produce enough self-confusion to corrupt your sense of perception, and still you remain as you are, were, and shall be.
The bare world is beautiful, rich, and open to anything you wish to make it. Likewise, you can build and experience anything with someone else so long as they are not too timid to approach it.
Use a crutch for a broken leg, but using a crutch with healthy legs atrophies them into spindly spider limbs that can neither hold your weight nor take you anywhere.
As nudists sans concealing apparatus, all life stands before us waiting to be played with and invited out for a good time. Dance and frolic with it, have unsheathed conversations and be first to dare. No external intoxicants are needed when you know what you want and can have together.
Long love from an agile ruminant - If your interests are wide, energy endless, and passions strong, it is unrealistic to think another will care about or value as you do. Worse, their limp participation will disappoint both. We need not be identical or even fans of the same cool pop bands and entertainment as was required of relationships in grade school and university. We come together, but we must also have space to grow freely with separate lives.
Home as base camp, whether a mobile mountainside tent or modest countryside castle: a place of peace from which to plot further. Discord does not belong, whether active or passive, nor resistance, intrigues, or general negativity. We are attempting to build and arrive somewhere, yes? Or blowing everything up in a fatal attempt to prove it impossible?
Being driven by a powerful spirit necessitiates having a lover that can be tolerant of forces, whims, visions, possibilities, moments, and curiosities they will probably never appreciate or understand. There will be great and precious times together, but there must also be tolerance for the rest that must be done alone and acceptance for joys and necessities that seem incomprehensible. Trying to keep up will exhaust them, demands that you slow down or stop only frustrate, and by not welcoming adventures to taste their subtleties or desiring to attempt the daring, they will learn nothing and be forced to invent fictional narratives as clever distractions for all they are missing.
A man who loves you will be loyal and always returns home when his task is complete. If you take care not to extinguish his fiery essence, he will always burn with everlasting heat for you.
Fierce pragmatism - "In the end, the relationship deteriorated so completely we became unable to bear speaking to one another. Though I could accept losing love, I also lost a dear friend."
The priest smiled in amusement and replied, "That was truly no loss, for your goal was not merely to find a friend."
All good souls respond well to playful interaction. Just as we should at all times be close only to the best, we should openly welcome, entice, and provoke the best in others. No waiting -- take a chance to make it happen by going first, immediately turning any sterile utilitarianism into interesting and fertile fun. Occasionally you'll receive rigid resistance or complete withdrawal. If warmth and humor can't penetrate that misery then move on to souls that still spark, dance, and have passion for life.
Don't Drink Poison
Not dissipating outlets, numbing narcotics, amusements, or distractions -- these only drain, weaken, and increase despair. Instead: more tension, private wars, selective companionship, secluded congregations, reckless adventure, and exposing oneself only to the profound and beautiful. We often hide away, but we also experience more deeply while remaining undiluted by the meaningless and uninspired.
Most of the modern world is empty and boring, made by tedious robot people who injured their souls to death and semi-secretly hate themselves. Understandably some smart people look around at the state of things as hopeless and consequently cope with this by becoming despondent, as if they somehow feel bound to emulate the misery most people bring themselves.
It's true that there's an almost infinite amount of noise and nonsense, and once this is accepted as the main product and objective of modernity, it's easy to walk away from the whole and start over.
No political idiots debating irrelevant issues (while ignoring the essential)
It's easy if you try
From there a fresh view of life you had as a child is revived and returned into focus.
Think of what you care about. If you see much that is deplorable, first separate yourself from it (what profit could come from remaining close to it?), then befriend what is great, inspiring, and nurturing to your soul. Finally, begin creating in your image, not as a mercy mission for the world or a theoretical gift to a crumbling society, but so as to actively improve your life with touches you desire to bring into existence.
Looking past the endless pre-landfills and living cemeteries of the redundant, the world remains a blank slate open and awaiting you to press upon it. But first you must care for and revere your short life with faith in your mission and love for your destiny.
Accepting all things as they are obviates the drama and denial of forgiveness. There is no need to create the lie that stupid and harmful behavior somehow arose against all odds instead of being central to a person's character, especially when their history is long and well known.
"How strange that you would do something undesirable and detrimental just as you have done many times previously in such harmony with the rest of your predilections and tendencies! Let us pretend that you would instead behave in a way other than you are, as if you were a disciplined saint, or even had modest reverence for life and honor."
We again see most clearly when moral fictions are removed. It is no one's fault that someone exists far from ideals -- that is just what they are and the best they can do. To assume someone normally reaches ideals and only falls short when cornered by an open and shut evidentiary hearing means to deceive oneself and compel another to perpetuate fraud by hiding their true nature. What great effort to produce the perception of a ludicrous fiction!
We can beat the liberals in tolerance by accepting how many failures and miserable wretches also share the planet with us, none requiring delusive proclamations that they are solemn and benevolent. We can even love that someone reveals themselves to us as wicked or treacherous because then we know them better. There is no need to smother any truth; may they all find a home.
No voodoo can change a person and no hopeful make believe presumptions change reality. Everything and everyone is what they are, not what you want them to be.
Resisting for life
Off the Wall: Political Posters of the Lebanese Civil War
Our capabilities most greatly flow and peak in war. Thoughts and aesthetics arrive as naturally as life and death when urgency presses and provokes our best to arise from within. Why not view all great desires as types of war and put into them what we willingly give for all things we care about? Or are you spending your efforts doing things you do not greatly care about?
Searching for strange optimism - maybe it isn't really that society is in free-fall decline, but it only looks that way because there is no longer anyone capable of creating anything, so we coast on the creations of the past and realistically anticipate that nothing of consequence is likely to appear anytime soon.
No longer able to believe in what isn't
What was 2009?
I became an artist and became unreachable, with new eyes to appreciate subtleties everywhere. I had my first deep glimpse at art and at once became both artist and a patron of the arts, necessitating wide and frequent travels to taste its best. Raw, delicate, and bare, it makes its appearance as a strange exception separate from time and location, an expressive intelligence for which even its creator is typically but an innocent vessel communicating from a vast universe of accumulated wisdom far beyond conscious thought.
As diplomat sans portfolio, I signed peace treaties with California and New York, now able to enjoy their mischaracterized charms and feeling totally at home when enjoying their company. Accordingly, I became too Californian to tolerate bitter externalists and complainers (enjoy your acrid stew!), and too much a New Yorker to have much patience with people who cower, are slow to make decisions, or uncomfortable facing truth directly. Au revoir à jamais!
My disposition has become decidedly Mediterranean. I prefer warmth, good cheer, and an honorable outlook from others, but make sure to carry my own sun if one is lacking. Nor do resignations or suicides bother me - they are fruits from seeds that visibly grew for a long time in their necessary climate and became an inevitability. Very well - aren't we all inevitabilities? And thus all life is.
Unconcerned with petty matters, I took care to surround myself with beauty, making for delightful travels and more remarkable experiences than I've had in the last decade. My reckless indomitable spirit rose stronger and more daring than ever. I invented a new solution to expensively paralyzing filibusters: at a certain point any outcome is better than continued investment in the desired outcome, so a forced outcome, whatever it is, is better than being held at bay by obstructionists. This also tells us that waiting is death and something barely moving should be killed if it can't be made healthy.
Appreciation for the great intelligence dispersed throughout the universe (and its prolific opposites), slowly assembling itself over long ranges of times - exceptional gifts as an exposed side of a multifarious structure. Love for all who also love this, impossible separation from those unappreciative or unaware of the universe. Common space shared or mutually incomprehensible languages talking about two different realities? Laugh together or walk away forever.
Ascendant in the seventh house, committable but happily uncommitted. The right muse provokes wonderful conversation and thus a few women were able to go far with me this year. I quickly wreck all barriers so the whole of reality is open to us, especially difficult and raw topics we're not supposed to share. Two spirits unhindered play easily and can go all night in adventurous exploration.
I became fluent in Italian designers, necessitating another trip to Milano, most impressed that designer clothing is fitted for healthy frames instead of mass market couch potatoes. As agents of aesthetics and joyful existence our public costumes should celebrate this.
I parted ways with everyone who was seeking stability. Uncertainty breathes better and is infinitely richer, so a grand ritual funeral fire cleared away constraining clutter and keeps jailers at an appropriate distance.
Inspired by wonderful chance encounters, I no longer think of great people as rare, but rather as isolated and tending to pass one another by in the night. We must take a chance to find out who they are. Likewise, we should always be seeking out the best of all things, so rather than opposing nonsense made for the public, we should seek what comes from inspired souls. This immediately changes one's outlook and temperament - all noise being just another obstacle that cannot be taken seriously.
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