{∅, {∅}, {∅, {∅}}}

Herr Hentrich,
Translation is a very difficult work, specially this author. Well, I take it that you would not want to take the eternal youth drink. Yes, so much suffering and pain and to go through all that eternally is horrible enough to desire oblivion. Take care. Raúl

PAGE 14

en espanol:

Es por la muerte que nosotros vivimos, es por la muerte que nosotros amamos y es por ella que nosotros engendramos y que nos afanamos, nuestros trabajos y nuestros dias se suceden desde ahora bajo la sombra de la muerte, la disciplina que observamos, los valores que mantenemos y los proyectos que formamos responden todos a un mismo desenlace: la muerte.

La muerte nos segara maduros, maduramos por ella y nuestros descendientes, que no seran mas que un punado de hombres en la superficie de esta ecumene en cenizas, no pararan de maldecirnos, acabando de quemar todo eso que nosotros adoramos. Adoramos a la muerte bajo figuras prestadas y no sabemos que es ella, nuestras guerras son sacrificios de alabanza en los que nos inmolamos en honor a la muerte, nuestra moral es una escuela de la muerte y las virtudes, a las que tenemos estima, no habran sido jamas mas que virtudes de muerte. No salimos de ahi, no podemos cambiar el orden del mundo, estamos condenados a cargar aquello que nos aplasta, apoyando eso que nos desmiembra, no nos resta mas que perecer o matar, antes que morir nosotros mismos, aunque fuesemos los liltimos, una tercera via, lo digo en alto, es imposible.

 It is by death that we lived, is by death that we loved and is by her who we generated and who we strove, our works and our days follow one another from now on under the shade of death, the discipline which we observed, the values that we maintain and the projects that we formed respond all to the same outcome:  death.  Death would harvest us to maturity, and thus, we matured by her and our descendants would not stop to curse, finishing us, burning all that we adored.

We did not leave there, we cannot change the order of the world, are condemned to be squashed. 

 

The conviction that the world and man is something that had better not have been, is of a kind to fill us with indulgence towards one another.-S.

I wonder why Caraco's and Zapffe's works have not been translated into English.  Are there that few interested?

My mother has a cousin in Sweden, and I emailed him about Zapffe figuring Norweigh was as close to Sweden as one could get; and he had never heard of Zapffe.  This was disheartening.

At least this German guy speaks English well enough for me to follow the following technical details, although he moves so quickly, I had to keep hitting pause and going back to see what he did.

I don't mean for you to actually watch the video. It's just an example of where my head is at after 4AM.  Some mornings I wake up at 5AM, but I most likely will not be sleeping until 6AM ...  Needless to say, my sleeping pattern just went off kilter.

I had spent hours trying to install ktigcc in Linux, but i finally had to surrender and boot into Windows.  That's ok though.  All the Texas Instruments "connection" software has to be run on Windows, so ... well, I can't be a total rebel.

tigcc

Calculators and computer algebra systems have become my drug of choice.  Math too.

I do math the way some of our brothers and sisters smoke crack.

It's my current disease.  I feel great at times while studying and solving problems, and at other times, I do not feel well at all, almost "sick" .... It's the nature of how we are wired, I suppose.

I also remember taking a C++ course at the local community college after I had lost my job with the State Park Service (for eluding the police on the way home from a bar in the midst of some kind of psychotic episode).

Anyhow, I am still to this day using a Fraction class I started back in 1998 during that class.  Cool, huh?  It is of course more sophisticated now, and I keep adding things to it like it is some kind of living thing.  I mean, it's dynamic ... I think the teacher would be pleased to know that, even though I may not have done anything professionally with what I learned, after studying some programming. my love for mathematics was reawakened, and this has stayed with me.   It consoles me during this otherwise uneventful life.

The thing is, I find this is as close to "being spiritual" as I can get these days.  I honor those Beginnings by recognizing that I am still partial to rational numbers, and I like to include my little Fraction class in various programs.

I had found a program in C which found the inverse of a matrix using minors, a cofactor matrix, and its transpose.  It did not take too long to transform it to use my own styled vector< vector< Fraction > >, which is simply a vector of vectors of Fractions.

I like to see the results and each step in fraction form since I want to be able to see the row operations  and all that shiit.

It may not sound very "spiritual," but for me, it keeps me humble seeing as I know much more than I used to and I still know so very little.  Life is a real kick in the teeth that way, you know?

The older I get, even as I understand more, I have a better feel for how little I know and how little I will ever really know.

In a sense, I don't mind becoming depressed.  I think that when I am depressed, I am just more in tune with the nature of our lives.  There doesn't seem to be a point.

If you learn to observe your own inner processes, you may begin to notice patterns, and so - if, like me, you become more depressed at night, it won't be a big dramatic ordeal.  I just take that as a given.

Death hits man like an arrow hits the bull’s eye, and it never misses; for us, death is the only certainty, we can never forget for a single moment that we die, it doesn’t matter when, and also, where and how. Because eternity is – absurdity, life and eternity are irreconcilable concepts, death is the final rest for all of us, life and death cannot be separated from each other, he who wants something else wants the impossible and his only reward will be the grand prize of nothing, and not anything else. But we do not flatter ourselves with empty words, readily resign to our passing and we are proud for that, we did not come into the world of our own accord and we happily take cognizance of the fact that we don’t survive, in any way, this life filled with memories and pain, with bitter joys of dubious value, that we did not so much receive as a gift, but rather it was forced upon us. That happiness exists is not a refutation of all of this. Happiness is unique, but we only concern our attention with the laws of the species, and proceed only from these laws, only these do we ponder, digging ever deeper, scorning those waiting for a miracle, and we don’t want from the heavenly happiness: we make do with the self-evident certainty, that the excellence of ours is going to end here, and not somewhere else.


We all die alone and with the whole of our being – most people are incapable to accept this truth, the majority of people only sleeps through life and waits in dread for the moment of awakening, that is, for death. One way to prepare for death is being alone, but the average will never be able to admit this, although otherwise it is impossible to get to ruthless sincerity, because sincerity is the reward of loneliness; thus, if we’d have to divide people, we would divide them into three big groups: the sleepwalkers, they are the most numerous; the sensitive and considered, who live on two planes simultaneously, and as they clearly see what they need, search and look for it with all their might, but they are unable to find it; and finally the unworldly, who are born twice; they march towards death with their heads held high, knowing full well that they are going to die alone and with all their being, unless – to express with this too, their deep contempt for blind chance – they choose it abruptly, when, where and how do they want to pass. The sleepwalkers – idolaters; the sensitive and considered – believers; the twice-born unworldly, in turn, love in their own souls what the first group is incapable to imagine, and what the second group is incapable to understand, for they, the unworldly, are human beings in the literal meaning of the word, and as such, they will never search for what they have already acquired, and they will also never worship it, because it is identical with themselves.

- from The Handbook of Chaos, Caraco

It is quite alright; I haven't had much to say recently either.  This translation of the first two pages come from the pessimism reddit forum. Apparently some users there are working on a translation from Hungarian to English. I will be checking periodically for updates, if any.

Currently trying to gather the energy to walk to the grocery store. How many more years until the grocery store is a novelty of the past?

It seems as if the world's disasters are accelerating. In the end, that is subjective, as I still have a roof over my head and haven't known true, true personal disaster yet.

Time to get moving.  Be well enough.

I've run some additional aphorisms found on various blogs through the translator on Brave Browser.  The sources are Ma Confession, Supplement to psychopathia sexualis, Chaos Breviary and Abécédaire de Martin-Bâton:

The Anarchists and the Nihilists are the last reasonable and sensitive men among the deaf who march[...]

“Most humans live hallucinated and possessed, faith hallucinates them, fixed ideas possess them, they dialogue with a mirror and want to punish anyone who catches them there”

The order is rewarded for its death because it is increasingly chaotic and increasingly lacking in reasons for being, public order is criminal, the order we serve needs producers and consumers, not whole men. Whole men make them uncomfortable. But man is not here on earth to produce and consume, it is about being and feeling that one exists! The rest brings us down to the level of ants.

The free woman will exercise her muscles and the most intimate ones first, she will be mistress of the constrictor cunni , not to mention her smooth fibers, that is where her honor is found and not in her virginity, a ridiculous membrane to the highest degree. The woman worthy of the name will be able to strangle the male member to prevent it from emitting the semen or, when she has received the semen, to expel it spontaneously. Someone says that the revolution is a prelude between two sheets and that it will change the world, by also changing the woman's body

“Yes, few cities seem inhabitable, the world is ugly with infinite ugliness and life is bad, admiring the work of a so-called Creation is delirium, this Creation is only an abortion repeated, the work of man does not always amend it and when beings gather somewhere, the manure overabundant, the Persians were not so wrong to describe our Earth as a cesspool, it is first of all that, despite the conjuring of our idealisms”

“Our chickens and our pigs are better fed than half of the children of the Earth, imagine that we remedy this scandal and this is only one paradox among twelve or fifteen… finally our optimism seems criminal and we will be disillusioned before the end of the century, we live suspended above an abyss and we will roll into it, at the first test”

Our worst enemies are those who speak to us of hope and promise us a future of joy and light, of work and peace, in which our problems will be solved and our desires satisfied. It costs them nothing to renew their promises, but it costs us enormously to listen to them, and what we have to gain are only wrong ideas, the further we go and the more these ideas become dominant and the more the yoke of misunderstanding bends us, we falter under a accumulation of dark and confused notions, which would like to be scientific and make us lose the memory of everything that has disenchanted us for three centuries now. Logomachy, called dialectics, allows you to demonstrate anything, according to the needs of the moment and the interest of its demonstrators[...]

But why preach to these billions of sleepwalkers, walking toward chaos in equal step, under the guidance of their spiritual seducers and under the baton of their masters? They are guilty because they are innumerable, the masses of the damned must die in order for a human restoration to be possible…What do we care about the nothingness of these slaves? No one can save them, neither themselves nor the evidence, all are inclined to rush into the darkness, they were generated by random couplings, and were born the same as bricks coming out of their mould and forming here into parallel rows whose piles rise to the clouds. Are they men? No. Mass destruction is never composed of men.”

“The family softens morals: the executioners of Germany, what admirable fathers! They passed from their ovens to the arms of their children, their chaste wife watched over the bed, a bed surmounted by a cross, whose modest fires set the curtains ablaze and made the bedsteads groan. O Heaven! what virtues! Save me, Lord, from "honest people!"

I feel like I'm growing day by day, no man offends me and nothing affects me, I'm no longer afraid of anything or anyone, it's a state that we find in the philosophers and - it seems - among the mystics, I am really the antipodes of the French and the Spaniards, these people who live for others and depend on opinion, the others I consider twilight, opinion I believe it unreal. I know that I will not die (I speak figuratively), my life only began around fifty, my works will remain, that is enough, love leaves me indifferent, friendship knocks me out, I want glory , I will have it, glory is the most beautiful virgin. My dream would be to earn enough money to live alone and finally not depend on anyone, I would really like to have a house in the fields and to be able to write in a garden, of which I would be the owner. Is this too much to expect from life and my destiny? I would need a publisher and one who was worthy of the name, instead of a printer who holds me to ransom and does not esteem me unduly, I would need a dozen critics who are sufficiently imbued with my production to be capable of informing me about it. the several thousand readers, whose delight it would be, if they did not even know of its existence. It is shameful for this country that one of the rare thinkers, with something to communicate, is always passed over in silence, we should not be surprised if my contempt continues to grow. This contempt forces me to look at my nation, whose decline is the subject of my studies[...]