All of us, every single man, woman, and child on the face of the Earth were born with the same unalienable rights; to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. And, if the governments of the world can't get that through their thick skulls, then, regime change will be necessary.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Why do Muslims hate us?
Why do Muslims hate us? I'm clueless; so when we got off shift at the saw mill I asked a couple of regular guys at the local tavern what they think the problem is.
The answer to this, if not other challenging questions, is here.
Life isn't fair, and if it were, it could only be fair to one person, he, one would hope, being me-- so I could get a date with such a gal as Aline Nakashima and her twin sister.
I'm on the verge of thinking of Romanticism, which led me to making the post above. It's a hint of a thought.
I'm beginning to see that we live at a fin de siècle, that being the end of Wordsworth and Obama.
Yes, Wordsworth and Shelley; Himmler and John Dewey; Obama and you and me.
I think we can say that dykes are some of our best friends because we live in a matrix of Romanticism, that we don't know anything else, and that what is not familiar is disconcerting at best.
I'm thinking we're at the start of a sweeping social change on the scale and of the significance of the French revolution. I'm not seeing Edmund Burke here but Alexander Pope and Dr. Johnson. Not a conservative and reactionary counter-revolution but a higher Classicism. This, though we mostly know nothing else, you and I and the majority of us, is our revolution. This is the end of Johann von Herder and Oprah. Good-bye, "I feel, therefore I am."
Yeah, I think Romanticism is dead and the we will begin the Classical period all over again, a purity of mind and Reason to overthrow the Age of Reason.
My point in posting above is not to dump on the Freak Show, as I call it. As, like you, a child to Romanticism, I know little else, and it leads me to "I feel, therefore I am" Romanticism and the usual pseudo-personal Promethianisms. My point in showing the Freak Show as "Why they hate us" is to show why we hate each other as others. I mean by it, that we, as Romanticist are in deadly pursuit of our personal feeling as against all Reason, Truth, and Beauty. Look at it thus:
That to dress is to do so not so much for protection from the elements as to show the world who we are in regard to them. Dress, to appear in the social world, is to create a semiotic, as it were, of person in the world. The photos tell. They tell of a society in which the Freak Show is the Romanticism of our time as its end. It's a nihilism gone utterly nasty and vicious. It's not about "self-expression" but is a violent hatred of Other and Self. It's a social insult to all men and society, a degradation of the social. It has nothing to do with the personal but to do with the antisocial. It's the end of the Romantic.
I feel nothing, says the alienated being, (he cut off from a meaningful social experience, that being what is through continuity and weighed value, e.g. a religious experience of tradition and family;) therefore, being a child of Romanticism, knowing nothing else but that there must be a hatred of life as "sculpted," as Barzun puts it, that all socially imposted order on the individual is alienation and inauthenticity, feeling nothing, I prize the orthopraxies of the anti-social clique, the Conformity Hippies, the theatrical pretenders to the thrones of Gnosis: say the right thing, look like a freak, be different, and thus be a mini-god. Such is the ultimate legacy of Romanticism. Dressing up and acting the fool in public is all that's left to those who "feel, therefore they feel like empty and worthless pieces of shit who can only claim to be metonymies, "My tattoos! My Identity! My offended persona!"
Dressing up for a walk-on role in the Freak Show is all that's left for those who can't stay drunk all day.
I think it's changing before our very eyes, and that we don't know what it is because we know only Romanticism.
To dress is to make a social statement about ones relationship to the greater world, to ones fellows. To dress is to be social to any extent. Dress tells people not only about oneself but about how one feels toward others. Look to those who dress in rags and stink of piss. It's a statement about society as well as about themselves. Others deserve no respect, and my piss-wreaking clothes are a direct statement of it. Or, a suit and tie: that the man is part of a social clique and means to dominate others. Or a man who dresses nicely and is well-groomed, saying: "I am a happy person and I respect you, which is why I did this for you, that you can look at me and be pleased with people in public." Dressing well is to please the society one lives in. Men in suits and hats, ladies in dresses and gloves, it's a way of saying, "We are in this together, and I have respect for you all."
The freak show is for failed individualists, those who have no core, who have only a resentment of others, who can't find anything to do but freak-- and show it.
When a generally poverty-stricken world sees such ugliness emerging from wealth only cried for among the poor, they hate us. They hate us for shitting on their dreams of a good life. They hate us for being ugly and foolish and wasteful and disgusting and unnatural and weak.
Most of us are none of those things above, but too often we are prone to pretend we are all of those things. We fawn over the worthless cultures and the tormented peoples of hell-hole nations, praising them for what they know is garbage and evil, playing them for fools, and they wondering if in fact it is not we who are fools and who deserve to be smashed into pulp for being so weak and disgusting. We end up as a living mockery of the world's striving poor. My guess is that is enough to make people hate us.
But what about our rights as individuals and ya ya? I think I hear and read such from the stupidest people in Modernity's bountiful lands. The completely stupid and foolish who have nothing in themselves but a fear of themselves as the empty and stupid things they are are the ones who compensate for their hollowness my metonymies: by dressing up for the Freak Show. Those are the ones we are known as.
I think the time comes when the Change will arrive like thunder and lightning. A flood of hard Classicism a'coming, washing away the baseless Freak Show of empty Romanticisms.
I should have settled for the one I married as a young man. The others are a reminder that I failed. Family life, as I see it now, is the height of success in life.
11 comments:
I'm satisfied, and I hope you are too.
And, who would ask Aline Nakashima's opinion anyway?
Now, she is an extremist.
Life isn't fair, and if it were, it could only be fair to one person, he, one would hope, being me-- so I could get a date with such a gal as Aline Nakashima and her twin sister.
That's me being moderate.
Great comment, Dag. I made it the Quote of the Day in the sidebar.
Ars longa, vita brevis.
I'm on the verge of thinking of Romanticism, which led me to making the post above. It's a hint of a thought.
I'm beginning to see that we live at a fin de siècle, that being the end of Wordsworth and Obama.
Yes, Wordsworth and Shelley; Himmler and John Dewey; Obama and you and me.
I think we can say that dykes are some of our best friends because we live in a matrix of Romanticism, that we don't know anything else, and that what is not familiar is disconcerting at best.
I'm thinking we're at the start of a sweeping social change on the scale and of the significance of the French revolution. I'm not seeing Edmund Burke here but Alexander Pope and Dr. Johnson. Not a conservative and reactionary counter-revolution but a higher Classicism. This, though we mostly know nothing else, you and I and the majority of us, is our revolution. This is the end of Johann von Herder and Oprah. Good-bye, "I feel, therefore I am."
Yeah, I think Romanticism is dead and the we will begin the Classical period all over again, a purity of mind and Reason to overthrow the Age of Reason.
My point in posting above is not to dump on the Freak Show, as I call it. As, like you, a child to Romanticism, I know little else, and it leads me to "I feel, therefore I am" Romanticism and the usual pseudo-personal Promethianisms. My point in showing the Freak Show as "Why they hate us" is to show why we hate each other as others. I mean by it, that we, as Romanticist are in deadly pursuit of our personal feeling as against all Reason, Truth, and Beauty. Look at it thus:
That to dress is to do so not so much for protection from the elements as to show the world who we are in regard to them. Dress, to appear in the social world, is to create a semiotic, as it were, of person in the world. The photos tell. They tell of a society in which the Freak Show is the Romanticism of our time as its end. It's a nihilism gone utterly nasty and vicious. It's not about "self-expression" but is a violent hatred of Other and Self. It's a social insult to all men and society, a degradation of the social. It has nothing to do with the personal but to do with the antisocial. It's the end of the Romantic.
Or so I might be groping my way toward thinking.
I feel-- nothing; therefore I am-- my metonymies.
I feel nothing, says the alienated being, (he cut off from a meaningful social experience, that being what is through continuity and weighed value, e.g. a religious experience of tradition and family;) therefore, being a child of Romanticism, knowing nothing else but that there must be a hatred of life as "sculpted," as Barzun puts it, that all socially imposted order on the individual is alienation and inauthenticity, feeling nothing, I prize the orthopraxies of the anti-social clique, the Conformity Hippies, the theatrical pretenders to the thrones of Gnosis: say the right thing, look like a freak, be different, and thus be a mini-god. Such is the ultimate legacy of Romanticism. Dressing up and acting the fool in public is all that's left to those who "feel, therefore they feel like empty and worthless pieces of shit who can only claim to be metonymies, "My tattoos! My Identity! My offended persona!"
Dressing up for a walk-on role in the Freak Show is all that's left for those who can't stay drunk all day.
I think it's changing before our very eyes, and that we don't know what it is because we know only Romanticism.
I'm still trying here.
To dress is to make a social statement about ones relationship to the greater world, to ones fellows. To dress is to be social to any extent. Dress tells people not only about oneself but about how one feels toward others. Look to those who dress in rags and stink of piss. It's a statement about society as well as about themselves. Others deserve no respect, and my piss-wreaking clothes are a direct statement of it. Or, a suit and tie: that the man is part of a social clique and means to dominate others. Or a man who dresses nicely and is well-groomed, saying: "I am a happy person and I respect you, which is why I did this for you, that you can look at me and be pleased with people in public." Dressing well is to please the society one lives in. Men in suits and hats, ladies in dresses and gloves, it's a way of saying, "We are in this together, and I have respect for you all."
The freak show is for failed individualists, those who have no core, who have only a resentment of others, who can't find anything to do but freak-- and show it.
When a generally poverty-stricken world sees such ugliness emerging from wealth only cried for among the poor, they hate us. They hate us for shitting on their dreams of a good life. They hate us for being ugly and foolish and wasteful and disgusting and unnatural and weak.
Most of us are none of those things above, but too often we are prone to pretend we are all of those things. We fawn over the worthless cultures and the tormented peoples of hell-hole nations, praising them for what they know is garbage and evil, playing them for fools, and they wondering if in fact it is not we who are fools and who deserve to be smashed into pulp for being so weak and disgusting. We end up as a living mockery of the world's striving poor. My guess is that is enough to make people hate us.
But what about our rights as individuals and ya ya? I think I hear and read such from the stupidest people in Modernity's bountiful lands. The completely stupid and foolish who have nothing in themselves but a fear of themselves as the empty and stupid things they are are the ones who compensate for their hollowness my metonymies: by dressing up for the Freak Show. Those are the ones we are known as.
I think the time comes when the Change will arrive like thunder and lightning. A flood of hard Classicism a'coming, washing away the baseless Freak Show of empty Romanticisms.
I leave such pithy comments. How come I can't get a date? Life is really unfair.
Right. You don't get chicks.
I believe that.
/// sarc off
I should have settled for the one I married as a young man. The others are a reminder that I failed. Family life, as I see it now, is the height of success in life.
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