Schopenhauer's Disciples

General Category => Why Bother? => Topic started by: Holden on September 14, 2014, 02:57:55 pm

Title: A dying animal
Post by: Holden on September 14, 2014, 02:57:55 pm
I want to accept the fact that I am a dying animal.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum on September 15, 2014, 11:59:57 am
This morning I saw a seagull dying by the ocean.   I picked it up and moved it to buy it some reflection time.  Its death is inevitable, as is ours.   

I had such a creepy dream last night that I awoke with severe anxiety.   All that it was was people being "mean" to me ... hating on me.    It sounds so ridiculous that I hesitated writing it here.    Maybe I will have an opportunity to return into that dream and do some serious attacking of the assholes.     :D

When I was a teenager a teacher told us that one is capable of "killing enemies" in dreams, and that this may represent some kind of inner victory in the psyche.   

We are all dying animals, you are right.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum on September 15, 2014, 12:05:40 pm
I can't get over how the Net Nanny software won't allow me to curse.    I can't work under these conditions.   ;)
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Holden on September 20, 2014, 10:41:29 am
Could you describe the dream in greater detail? It appears interesting.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum on September 20, 2014, 02:35:00 pm
I have 4 minutes left on the Internet at the library, but, if I am up to it, I will try to explain it, save it to flashdrive, then upload Monday ("God" willin' and the crick don't rise).

peace Holden!
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Holden on September 21, 2014, 12:34:51 pm
I feel in my bones that what is write is very close to the truth.This world is based on lies & deception,no wonder you are alienated.And so am I.
If nothing works out,maybe I get enrolled as an anaesthesiology student,I am not kidding,its one of my plans to end it all-

Here's what Ligotti say-

The non-suicidal speak so cavalierly about suicide, as if anyone can do it anytime they want. But you really have to be in a very particular frame of mind to voluntarily attempt to die. More often, someone with the worst depression simply doesn’t feel good enough to kill himself. It just doesn’t seem like a solution. Anyway, after going under anesthesia three times in 2012, I realized that to be anesthetized to death is by far the best way to do it, like Edward G. Robinson in Soylent Green. A lot of anesthesiologists kill themselves, more than any other profession, or so I’ve read. I asked an assistant anesthesiologist about this, and she was very forthcoming about people in her profession having the know-how and access to the right drugs to die peacefully whenever they want. It seems so unfair that we all don’t have that advantage.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum on September 22, 2014, 06:05:19 pm
Am I morbid to chuckle while reading that Ligotti quote?   Why does it make me giggle?  What monkeys we are!  What a predicament we find ourselves in by being born through no choice of our own.  We are THROWN into this world like a litter of pigs from a ****.    :o

As for details on the above creepy nightmare-like dream:  I was my current age (47, I think) or maybe a little older ... I had a special grant from the government to study post-graduate level courses at my leisure without the silly games about "majors" or supposed "careers" ...

The deal was, though, that I had to live in the dorm and kind of "serve" as a "counselor/olderBrother" to my fellow students who DID have to be aiming for a PhD or Masters or some other bull****e.  Anyway, they disrespected me, stole my tobacco, poked me with sticks, so to speak.  It was kind of horrifying.  I wanted to leave.

A side note:  I noticed that something has asterisked out the words sh-t and bit-h and I'm not even in the library, so maybe it has not been Net Nanny but something in the settings.   I will look into it.  I mean, in honor of George Carlin, of course.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Holden on September 24, 2014, 12:21:49 pm
In  honour of Carlin's :P

Just like you I've lost tons of phones-here's what Carlin says-
(by the way,any particular reason why you use only black ink to write?)

I hate to loose anything. I don't like to loose anything cause... Where is it? See that's basically the part that bothers me the most. I'm a practical guy... Where is it? "I just had it!" You know that feeling? "It was just here!" Where is it? "I don't know." it's gone. "That's true." It's lost. "That's right". Where could it be? "Could be anywhere". Not here. "No, we know that". Maybe it'll come back. "Maybe but not yet." There are some things, I don't even care if I get them back, I just want to know where they went. And loosing things is something that's even worse when you're a child cause people get on you for it. Someone gets on your case. Not only is the item gone but you're catching heat, from up here. "You what?" I lost my yo-yo. "Well where did you have it last? "Eh! If I knew that... I'd still have my yo-yo. "Well... it must be somewhere." Right! "Well it just didn't get up and walk away". That one always got to me. 'It just didn't get up and walk away'. One time I lost the cat. It just got up and walked away. And she actually started to say it to me... Eh ma. I think you've figured this one out. Where do things go when they're lost, you know what I think? I think there's a big of things somewhere. I think there's a big pile of things that are constantly lost. You loose something Sssswwwwwwup. It goes to the pile. And then you say ohh look, there it is. Vvvvvwwwwum. Right back from the pile, and you didn't even know there was a pile. And where is the pile? In heaven, of course. It has to be in heaven, that's the first thing that happens when you get to heaven, they give you back everything you've ever lost. That's the whole meaning of heaven. "Here you go, 75 pairs of sun glasses. 212 cigarette lighters. 4983 ball point pens. And here's a jock-strap we found on interstate 90, it appears to have mule huff prints and chocolate sprinkles on it, my have been quite an evening".
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Gorticide :: Admin Elder Warrior Nuclear-Bum on September 24, 2014, 07:48:43 pm
I'm not sure.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that that is the color ink my Great Grandmother wrote with when we used to exchange letters.  She used the old style Sharpies.  I never cared for them because the ink runs through the sheet of paper, and I utilize both sides.  So, for decades I write in Mead composition notebooks with standard black ballpoint ink pens, unless, of course, I was institutionalized; in that case I wrote on scrap paper with those little plastic pens - until I could get a hold of the standard legal sized yellow pads.  I saved those, by the way, even ones as far back as 1987.  I did a lot of doodling back then ... lots of cartoons of me sitting up against a tree.

These days, as I approach the age of 50 - a little more than two years to go (significant because, in Hermann Hesse's STEPPENWOLF, Harry Haller plans to commit suicide on his 50th birthday), I discovered some really cool notebooks for half price at the Barnes N Noble and purchased 12 of them.  The quality of the paper allows me to use this new style Sharpie that writes ultra thin.  I can write cursive small (as long as I'm not inebriated).

Maybe this is why I am not writing as much.  I still use a regular Mead notebook as a "math diary" but hardly ever write in it.  I also started a "Hacking Diary" because I went through some cool phase over the summer where I actually became interested in low-level operations underneath "what we see" on the screen ... It passed, but, well, I go through these phases ...

Black ink.  I know someone who writes in green ink. 

I did use blue ink once, but it was for a love letter ... the English part in blue ink, the broken Spanish part in pencil underneath.  The love letter was a flop, by the way.  I basically said, "You are a beautiful woman but I am rebelling against the economic system we live under, and I will not allow romantic feelings transform me into a slave."

So much for the blue ink!

Holden, I had stopped writing for weeks ... but for a few paragraphs ... It is no joke what too much alcohol too many days in a row does to me ... hands shake ... can't hold a pen: frightening.

Fortunately, I live on a very limited income, so, by the time I get rent paid, pay a few bills, get tobacco and groceries, my booze run only lasts so long before I have to spend the last quarters on laundry.  I have trained myself to (1) PAY RENT then (2) get tobacco for the entire month (3) get 3 weeks worth of food and whatever supplies I need and (4) DO LAUNDRY and get imortant seasonal clothing --- then and only then do I allow myself beer or wine ... then whiskey ... then gin ... My last five dollars usually goes for a pint of Vodka.

It is over quickly.  Of course, sometimes I have to stock up on the fancy Sharpie pens or cool notebooks that will be there for me when there is nothing else.  Seriously, in hospitals or jails, I will write on scrap paper with whatever I can get my hands on.  When worse comes to worse, I just think ... like when wandering in the woods and fields ... one doesn't carry around a notebook ... It's a strange world, isn't it Holden?   Why do we write things down?

I can just imagine some scholar in a bunker writing down some heavy anti-capitalist manifesto, kissing the notebook, and tucking it into an elaborate chest only to be blown to bits by a drone.  What's the point? 

Someone must have been writing something when tsunami mommy came to wash it all away into oblivion ...

Maybe I have been writing all these years just to keep track of the inner transformations. 

When I was living with a young woman, and we would run into conflicts, I always had recourse to my own reflections ... She called this "The Hermit" and she feared it.  She was threatened by those parts of me that were more intimate with my heart than she could be. 

At one point, I let her read anything I wrote ... and then one day I locked up the current notebook.  Trouble in Paradise.
Title: Re: A dying animal
Post by: Holden on September 25, 2014, 02:28:32 am
Dear -Philosophy- in-the- Flesh,

"You are a beautiful woman but I am rebelling against the economic system we live under, and I will not allow romantic feelings transform me into a slave." :P
Jesus,that statement really takes the cake,I doubt if even Carlin would have been able to come up with it!
Most women are not interested in anti-capitalism.Is it cultural? biological? I don't know.
Most women are not worth the trouble as you beautifully explained:

I feel quite comfortable with my lifestyle until I am smitten with the desire to know a woman on intimate terms. It is then when I realize that my worldview and way of life most likely are not attractive qualities (as far as a mate goes). A young woman I was kind of smitten by handed me a magazine called MONEY with an article on HOW TO MAKE MONEY. She thought I might be interested. I was not interested in “how to make money.” I don’t like this idea of having to “win her affections” by making money. She may see me as a “bum” – and yet I live as Diogenes did, no? Am I not philosophy-in-the-flesh?

“Even brass becomes worn out in time, but never will future ages detract from your fame, Diogenes. For you alone showed the splendor of a frugal and moderate existence. You show the easiest path to the happiness of mortals.”

“For every aid, comfort, enjoyment, and pleasure by which people would like to make life more agreeable, would produce only new worries and cares greater than those that originally belonged to it.” (Schopenhauer)

I'd remember the lines.When is your b'day?Scholar in a bunker? That reminds me of Kaczynski.

Sean: Hey Gerry, in the 1960s there was a young man who had just graduated from the University of Michigan who was doing brilliant work in mathematics, specifically bounded harmonic functions. Then he went to Berkeley, where he was an assistant professor and showed amazing potential. Then he moved to Montana and blew the competition away.
Gerry: Yeah, so who was he?
Sean: Ted Kaczynski.
Gerry: Never heard of him.
Sean: Hey, Timmy?
Tim: Yo.
Sean Who's Ted Kaczynski?
Tim: The Unabomber.

I was thinking about how there are so few of us on this forum,practically,just the two of us,so to an outsider this forum's worth maybe almost zero,it may as well not exist at all,but as Kaczynski says-

A mistake that most people make is to assume that the more followers you can recruit, the better. That's true if you are trying to win an election. A vote is a vote regardless of whether the voter is deeply committed or just barely interested enough to get to the polls. But when you're building a revolutionary movement, the number of people you have is far less important than the quality of your people and the depth of their commitment. Too many lukewarm or otherwise unsuitable people will ruin the movement.

Alcohol Consumption-
This a very complicated issue if there ever was one.I wish I could assist you with it.
All I can say is that you should try to focus on writing/reading.

Its a strange world alright,but can there be such a thing as a regular/normal world? I write/ do math in order to inch closer to the oblivion, to plunge into the empty set.