Author Topic: Why Bother-I do this to pass the hours. Only to pass the hours.  (Read 641 times)

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Holden

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I do this to pass the hours. Only to pass the hours. This couple sentences do things to me. I use them as a signature . And it's as good an answer as any when you start to question what's the point of doing anything. Regardless of our goals and intentions, eventually it all comes down to "killing time while time kills you", as they say. So, in a way, passing the hours is the ultimate point of anything.

I am entirely ready and by degrees am giving myself over to those forces which go their own way and take us with them. Can you feel us both being swept into a tempest of transfigurations? Can you feel the fever?
« Last Edit: January 11, 2015, 11:02:52 am by Holden »
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

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I do feel the fever.

"killing time while time kills you"

That is why I talk into a recorder and listen to it.   This is why I enjoy listening to music. 

In his talk about the debt we owe to the "Drunken Indians" (meaning North American Aborigines who took to drinking booze as an act of defiance/confusion), John Trudell says they were, in effect saying, "You won't let us be who we are, and we certainly are not going to become what you would have us be, so we will just be NOTHING.  We will DO OUR TIME and simply get through it." (with comic indifference and downright hostility)

Very often our rebellion is self-destructive.

Why Bother?  I had ceased all "message board" activity.  Remember, we only started this board because we both felt like we were in some kind of Lovecraft story ... and it is best we keep our discussions organized, which would be impossible with email since it has been so over-run with spam advertz.

Out of time again.  You keep my neurons firing brother.

Peace.
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

~ Tabak und Kaffee Süchtigen ~

Holden

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"You won't let us be who we are, and we certainly are not going to become what you would have us be, so we will just be NOTHING.  We will DO OUR TIME and simply get through it."

Its something I have said to myself innumerable times.
Remember, we only started this board because we both felt like we were in some kind of Lovecraft story ... and it is best we keep our discussions organized, which would be impossible with email since it has been so over-run with spam advertz.

This blog is the oasis in my desert-like life.
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

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This blog is the oasis in my desert-like life.

I do not take you for granted, Holden.  Raul, Ibra, Silenus ... also very much appreciated.  Raul was perhaps the sole presence reading the blog at wordpress, motivating me to treck to the library to post before I had access to computers and connection from the current domicile.

At least one person was reading the blog, and offering encouragement.  Just knowing that someone with a pulse was reading what I typed helped me immensely.  It takes courage and a certain confidence to stand as alone as we do.

Quality, not quantity.  We really are in a science-fiction zoo.  With others in day to day life, there is a demand that we "not be so negative," and that in itself makes it difficult to just be myself.

It is said that people are "too busy surviving" to think too deeply about anything.  Our societies have managed to promote labor, any kind of labor, as heroic, and any kind of "contemplation" as "daydreaming, goofing off, etc."

One really has to find a way to transcend the tyranny of public opinion.  I think that this discussion board may help us in this respect.

In In the First Circle, where the character Nerzhin represents Solzhenitsyn himself, Nerzhin reflects on how his life has been one long, senseless, depressing chain of misfortunes from which he lacked the strength to struggle free.  I have to say, going through my notes has been somewhat painful, but I would like to sink into these raw emotions - to allow this powerful mood to take root in my entire being.
« Last Edit: December 23, 2019, 07:46:24 pm by Kaspar Heinrich »
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

~ Tabak und Kaffee Süchtigen ~

Holden

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I do not take you for granted, Holden.

Thank you and neither do I. I have noticed that you having been posting  a lot more message on the board of late and I guess,you do that because it brings to you a degree of solace as it brings to me.From my perspective,I could not be happier,this is really a feast for me -to be able to read so many things written by you.

Its a pity that the US,surely of the the richest countries in the world, has not been provide better support to you.As for India, it appears to me, that all it could afford is a Kafka,meaning someone who works full time and then writes/thinks/philosophizes/studies maths in his own time but not a Schopenhauer.

Russel writes that "Most people would sooner die than think; in fact, they do so."I have a hunch that most of the people who work in my company try to forget themselves and focus on work,work which is mostly soul-crushing.
But they would rather be slaves and work the whole day long than think about this strange predicament they find themselves in.They follow the script in letter and in spirit.Even the slightest of deviations from it is enough to reduce them to a quivering jelly.

People like you are rare,in that, you wish to squarely face the predicament.

A girl of about five or six,in the street, was selling roses.Ten rupees for a rose. She begged to me buy one. She said"Brother,please do buy one rose". And it hurt me deeply. She is, to call a spade a spade, a beggar.A beggar at the ripe old age of six.And yet this is what the machine of existence produces in large quantities.

It is enough to test the patience of a saint and I am not one. I did not buy the rose. I just hurried away.I hope some of the couples, there were many around that place, would have bought it from her. It just hurts to see her plight because I could have been that girl myself.

Whatever it is that brought us into being ,it could very well be perpetual.That little girl might be stuck selling roses on that street corner forever.The roses looked dead.And while I could not detect any smell, I felt sure they must be emitting nauseating smell.

Another  kid was sitting in the bifurcation area.Between two roads with heavy traffic.His eyes turned to stone. Maybe a his soul too.

Take care.

https://youtu.be/CMbI7DmLCNI
La Tristesse Durera Toujours                                  (The Sadness Lasts Forever ...)
-van Gogh.

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Quote from: Holden
Thank you and neither do I. I have noticed that you having been posting  a lot more message on the board of late and I guess,you do that because it brings to you a degree of solace as it brings to me.

Actually, I am using a tactic I picked up by osmosis reading German-Amerikan author/philosopher Robert Pirsig, more so in Lila than Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: My mind was stuck on exercises 15-17 in Chapter 20 of Stroustrup's C++ text, so early in the month I committed myself to using this period for the unconscious mind to work out its confusions about the code - to engage in a task that would require much patience and redundant going over and organizing, following through with why I would not want to burn EVERY SINGLE page when I burned my written slander against the universe into the sky.

So I am trying to stay committed, promising myself a new zest for the remaining exercise in chapter 20, and on into Algorithms and Maps in Ch 21 doe 2020.

I wish to move in turtle style, as a study of maths-as-art via programming.

The thoughts of ancestors hard-wired into code … beauty and elegance.

But on my bucket list is to give the world a little of my twisted soul which must be deeper than any impressions I might have left face to face.   It might help them understand some of my bizarre schizophrenic behavior, or their own if they are too honest with themselves.
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The Mother is passing onto to me the art and craft of baking Swedish coffee roll - it's a bread with Cardamon seeds (from India!!).  She is no longer strong enough to stir the nearly 5 pounds of flour, plus yeast, butter, milk …. there is cinnamon and sugar and optional nuts. raisins … When "relatively poor," these are the gifts from the heart people appreciate.  It takes the entire day from early morning as dough must rise for a few hours, then formed, cut, shaped, then set to rise again for another few hours.   Then cover with a little coffee and bake about 25 minutes at 350 F. 

Few males are able to pull this feat off, and the VEE-BURR VITCHIZ keep their secrets, you know?   My mom and I were able to pull off the transmission of this ancient Scandinavian breakfast bread, from crazy mom to crazier son.

Maybe I can become a baker in my own Fortress of Solitude, and be able to teach my nephew one day …
Things They Will Never Tell YouArthur Schopenhauer has been the most radical and defiant of all troublemakers.

Gorticide @ Nothing that is so, is so DOT edu

~ Tabak und Kaffee Süchtigen ~