Nah, read back through Unwrong’s arguments Gloom. It’s common sense that drugs should be illegal because drugs are illegal. (Even though they were not illegal for the first 10,000 years of human civilization until about 100-150 years ago.) And also the Constitution doesn’t matter. In Unwrong’s words: Federal law supersedes state law. Even if the federal law is in violation of the basis of federal law itself, which is the Constitution. I don’t know where to go with him. I don’t know what I am supposed to say at this point about it. And as for Phoneutria; all I want is you to read my last post, apologize, and admit you don’t know what you’re talking about. (I’ve shown you that paragraphs of the size I write are not uncommon in the field and you then saying that philosophy is all bullshit anyway so that doesn’t matter is not a real argument. Insult me and my lifestyle as much as you want (If you read back through, notice I never directly insulted you.) but it would look better for you if you just apologized and admitted you don’t know what you’re talking about.
Blimey 
Hmmm… Ah… I see… An argument about rhetoric.
In a world that employs the rhetoric that rhetoric is evil.
This is Socrates’ rhetoric, and the rhetoric of universities.
Kant made it ok to use dry rhetoric.
That is not Parodites’ rhetoric. But Parodites, being a Socratian, is also rhetoricing aginst rhetoric. So it is like a wave crashing. The oceanic gravity in this case being the metaphor for Socratian bullshatedness. Which itself stems from a weakness, an assuredness that fine rhetoricians are more advanced than he can be. Even though, he has covered ground that nobody but someone else has gotten even close to, that is, far beyond any precedent.
To even postulate an evolution in evolutionary theory,
Is blasphemy of the finest order.
But insidewards, he is still vying with fellow Socratians. Having been so victorious, the Socratians, he views it as the ultimate field. it is interesting.
Phoneutria may have a point. That no matter how advanced the philosophizing, it is undone by denial of the rhetorical principle.
But then, if the rhetoric had been embraced, he would be like Nietzsche, talking to thin air. There is also the question of how much of his resolve would survive it, but that is not the matter. That is not a calculation to make.
But witness: what was it about Greece that by now has conquered the entire planet? Recently even Chi-nah?
Rhetoric.
Whether through its petulant champion child Socrate,
Or through any of the other worse-fairing strzzains. No matter how ill-fairing, infinitely more virtuous than Socratian,
For not denying itself, a sign of immesurable weakness.
And so. Why can no one, even myself, even Capable himself, follow through with Capable?
Here it is: the wall postulated by Nietzsche. You know. “One day, man will have given birth to its last shooting star.”
The wall postulated by Nietzsche, and where every single serious philosopher stands: well, why should I tell you, right?
In any case, Rhetoric is the matter.
Socrate was rhetoric for the sake of rhetoric, its power for the sake of its power, which explains its blindness towards and hate for the mention of itself. Before him, all rhetoric was understood, as serving real life interests.
Interest itself, through Socrate, has been villified. Which is intersting, given the imposibility of no interest, even for the budiest of budists. But such a large part of rhetoric being the questioning of interests through interests, makes sense that rhetoric by its own sake would attack all interest, and all rhetoric.
Nietzsche lived in the dying days of a Master morality age. He had the position to not taint his hands with Socratian. In this now full swing Slave morality age, we address it. The dry, the self-satisfied, the petulant. It is rhetoric. All spoken is rhetoric. Now, in this age of Greece, as Greece has recently finally completed its conquest of the entire planet.
Wait. Is this bad news?
See you all later.
say, i remember reading something in the ‘Sovereigns’ literature about some shit in the constitution that made it sound like wage earners can’t be taxed on their wages because wages aren’t a commercial profit, but an equal exchange (for the labor provided). and only that profits made from ‘sales’ can be taxed.
bros i think the fucking capitalists wedged that wage tax shit in there.
if one of our leading intellectuals at ILP would be so kind as to elaborate on this query, that would be great.
Sure thing.
All taxation is theft. The Masons were simply trying to address it as best as possible, for knowing that it can’t really, too many entrenched interests for it to ever be eliminated. It seemed to them, though I half suspect you made that shit up, that a sales tax would put a cap on the abuse.
But income, wage, sales. It’s all someone taking your money.
Fine, so be it, some things are not reversible. The best strategy is to accept that taxes are there, that government is there (they are the same thing) and then that gives you the clear sight to deal with it.
Like the Masons did. Blessed be they. Thank you for America fellas. It’s been wonderful! We’ll do our best to safe keep it. Shame about Europe.
how will public utilities be paid for without taxing the citizens who use them, sir? if it weren’t for taxes, you’d be riding a donkey down a trail to work every day. not to mention you’d be hustling on the corner every night in the dark because there’d be no street lights. what are you gonna do… bust out a flashlight every time a dude wants a dove sack?
Sorry Don Lorenzo, I didn’t know what I was saying.
Of course we need the government. Where would we be without it?
Please forgive my son’s youthful impudence. We are most grateful to you…
Did you receive the cheeses I sent you? Where they to your liking?
To Pedro: I believe in Bruno’s antidialectic, and in Socratizing Socrates. And this is how I have found a way to rhetoric against rhetoric. I will borrow, or better- steal, the rhetoric of the group or individual I am intent on prevailing over, and use their own game and rules- to beat them; I will use their techniques and languages far more powerfully, and with greater skill, than they can. Thus Bruno’s mode of operation: siding with the Aristotelians, only then to say- yes, these Myths are falsehoods, so we must deny them and extract from them their buried origins in mortal human history. Then we will focus on that purified truth until it becomes so all-embracing, that it becomes an abstraction- that it becomes a Form. A Platonic Form. To that end, I will out-poetry the poets:
From Yielding Stars:
“… However, joy is something that must always be created, as properly it is but the feeling of growth, of transformation, while suffering is only there; the pulling feeling of decay, stasis, gravity, that is always just- there. To transform, we have to master such a feeling and dance across the crack running through the human heart like Dostoevsky- without falling into it, like Dostoevsky’s underground man- the chasm between the hunger for death and for immortality, to be controlled and to control, nothingness and meaning, because skirting moral catastrophe alone brings us to those limits of our nature necessary to induce- change, in our personality and in our lives. And that pulling feeling of decay and stasis threatens such a dance, threatens such catastrophe. There is no such thing as salvation, only transformation, no such thing as a hard or an easy life, only life.”
" There is however no external temptation, but only the internal one, for the serpent convinces us only by speaking in our own language- the fractured and aborted tongue of mortals, and therefor, only by offering us something that was there with us and within us from the beginning; there is only the initial corruption, a first impulse that accumulates little by little in each subsequent act, until, having been urged on by the Satanic illusion, and, finally convinced by our own power, existence, and free will, we allow ourselves to be driven up to the precipice and name ourselves Ego, a rupture in the natural order and unity of creation, so that this accumulation, now having reached its limit- which is the limit of our freedom, finally crushes us underneath the weight of our deed, of our self-consciousness, of our deceit. The world, to crush us, does not need to paralyze us; it simply moves with us- and in that, it changes us by the time we arrive upon our goal, before our desire washes over the shore its mystifying, radiant, vanishing gauze, or before our life washes over the shore of death and all daemonic individualisms with its holy multitudes, allowing us to further absorb our structures by process, to disfigure ourselves, and to amplify the basic instability of the formative personality- to disentangle the wings of the bird and the angel within us, of mortality and divinity within our love, whose desperate thrashing about once animated our fragile existence and gave us all we had of passion and of strength, and to separate the fire and the dust from out of this piece of poor, crumbling mud, this erotic arcanum of a human body, which holds the light and once gave shape and form to our being."
Poetry is nice. I like it. I like it most of all as the best tool to subdue poets. But then, and good luck figuring out in which parts of this text I am being ironic, when I am being serious, when I am joking- though it doesn’t matter in the end given the fact that in all cases, I use the rhetoric of the Academy better than any academic can. As in one of these texts from Monon and Mone, in which I am speaking of a logical diagram of a lot of different sui generis concepts in my own works and how they relate to one another as a zairja:
The IDEARIUM: Or,
The Magickal Daedalus: Essays Toward the Construction of the Idearium. This, Being a Study on the Brunonian Mind-Machine: An Occult Cybernetics, Philosophically, Historically, and Mystically Considered: from the 13th Century to Present.
The procedural lattice of the Idearium itself, with its fifteen registers, (nine epistemic registers, and six logical operators) is an n-dimensional spatialization of n-dimensional time,- like the pantheatrum ad mysticis universum coeundi, [Bodin’s Colloquium Heptaplomeres de Rerum Sublimium Arcanis, drawing on the Latinized secretum of Raziel, depicted a grid of 1,296 boxes arranged in accordance to the elemental quaternity, each containing an animal, a metal, a flower and so on, from which the Creator could freely decompose and reassemble countless daughter-universes from a basic plan we would today recognize by the recombinant logic of a procedural matrix or an algorithm.] a matrix of potential interactions corresponding to the liminal non-state of the primordial ATOMOS, through whose event-horizon information falls sway to gravitational tyranny of the organo-psychic Return, that is, the death-drive, and is accordingly scrambled by the mutagenic proliferation of the metonym as a stochastic residuum of the pre-Symbolic Real within the circular construction-deconstruction-reconstruction of Ego from sinthome and vice versa, like particles of light drawn into the orbit of a black hole, and beyond whose un-pronounced Unity and impermeable event horizon the universe is decollapsed from the 2-dimensional hologrammatic image (the Ontos) of Part for Whole (the gnostic mythopoetic syndoche and syzygy) into new Multiplicity, allowing for the occulted truth of the Multiple,- of what was Lost, of the ‘Loss of Being’- the buried dream-wish of the Freudo-Lacanian Unconscious,- to return through the resonances of the emergent tetrapolar exchange in the Mallarmean dice-game with Chance, that is,- of the 2-d circularly inscribed field of discourse now projected into 3-d interactive-space by the Brunonian vertexes of ascent-descent, to thereby supplant the phallic-metonym representative of its insurmountable logic through the unforeseen,-- [contra the decomposition of binary ur-alternatives into coordinates within Cartesian-space in Weizsäcker’s thesis or the reductio-digital isomorphism of the Zusian ontology of information, the replicating syntheme of the generative-semiosis implies always the Alien-Third of the Piercian Triad, that is, an extrinsic datum by which the symmetry of the multiplicative function of the Dyad can be maintained across all levels of System, and without which the chiral-double would be conformed by the antidrome and consequently supplant the serial-logic and ultimate mandate of the value-exchange by the epi-lepsis and semantic-rupture of the incorporate asynthemate, rendering any attempt to negotiate the mimetic hyperinflation of the semiotic multiplier through symbolic-exchange quite impossible] that is, through the fourth-dimensional site of negotiation in which the Singular or MONE appears ((The Singular or Mone: chance; the unforeseen; the unrepeated and unrepeatable; unity emerging from multiplicity instead of the multiplicity absorbed into unity by the Plotinian MONON or the Freudian regression of the inorganic, the death-drive. Here we find the reversal of predicates involved in the mythic narrative structure of the chiasmus, which all of our myths and cosmogonies draw upon in order to produce out of a doubled perspective a kind of biocular focus,- a three-dimensional exterior in which to freely blend (this free replication is the essence of myth’s centuries of endurance and the manner in which it ‘spreads’ from culture to culture over time) the individual elements contained within the linear narrative structures employed by our myths, eg. from the ‘before the Fall, after the Fall’ holding together the dramatic framework of Genesis and the psychotypic puer-aeternus of the Garden [that is, neither the Child of Freudian narcissistic-regression, marred by the death-instinct, or of Jungian individuation, ennobled conversely by the dynamic potencies of life and the possibility of continued growth,- neither the Child before the emergence of the Man or the Child following a re-submergence within the preternatural experience of the germinal libidinalcharge unavusled by the imposition of the Real and not yet properly cathected, as characteristically mediated by the ascetic religious mode and interpreted as a transcendent ground of experience, the mythologon in which the afterlife is grasped as a ‘return to the womb’,- but the Child as what had always been excluded, like the very Self whose suppression allowed the search for the Self to begin,- which is truly that unrecognized Self.] all the way up to the matter-antimatter pairings that determined the ultimate fate of a baryonic universe. Here we recognize its most highly abstracted formulation: Unity before Multiplicity; Unity after Multiplicity: Mone and Monon. As Kunze points out in ‘Reverse Predication, a Review’, Zizek,- given his appropriation of the Deleuzian concept of demarcation,- [this is the basis of Deleuze’s writing on the philosophy of choreograpy, or any other discourse, vs. choreographing philosophy, that is, choreography as a parallel datum organized within the greater dialogia for which philosophy serves as a modus for the Deleuzian ‘concept-creation’ employable by any extraneous discourse] uses the reversal of predicates from symbolic-logic to formulate an interesting addition to the Lacanian framework, ie. the master-signifier, through which the ontogenesis of cause and effect is itself reversed, producing a magic looking-glass beyond which the Particular (as subject) reaches into the Universal (As the missing datum in the register of the real,- the locus of psychic horror prompted by the infantine resistance of the Real to the goading of the Wish. Note here Vico’s doctrine of the imaginative-universal and the assertion that the first human thought must have been a predicative-reversal in which the human subject recognized himself only within an attribution to which he was bound as signifcand, thus “naming” himself in a literal and psychoanalytic sense. Vico goes on to explain the ethno-geneological basis of the emergence of naming as a universal convention, though he emphasized the theological and mythic dimension of this mimetic-reversal, just as Cassirer goes on to extend the same as the basis of mythic thought, that is, the basis of thought itself: imagine early man trying to invoke the God of rain by pouring out a cup of his precious water in an apparent indictment of the principle of natural selection; as a form of representation intended to reproduce the effect of the attribution, not just to copy an object, the transubstantiation of the predicate out of the hyperinflation of its aura through prolonged mimesis made way for the emergence of abstract universals applicable to any object, thereby satisfying even the survival-oriented demand of evolutionary-psychology and genetic determinism.) and re-emerges as a signifier capable of rearranging other signifiers within the interpellated void of the inscripted-Other constitutive of the subject’s own symbolic-gap, into the very kind of ‘orbits’ noted here. The predicate-logic involved in the topos of desire, the psychoanalytic model of cathexis, relies on the projection of desire by the subject toward an object in the environment, creating the potential matrix of subject-object relations, which in the Lacanian theory includes a counter-topography in the thwarting of desire by joussicance, that is, a repulsive counter-libido through which the barred-subject recollects and reintegrates its unstable consciousness [a la. the role of Eros in recoupling the ‘mortal soma’ separated by the symbolic gap or khaos of myth] at the boundary to the repressed Other whose recognition would threaten the Ego: here it should be recognized that the linear projective-repulsive maps,- one of reality-desire and the second a map of the Other through the lens of desire’s paraphilic distortion, [a distortion which, from the highest abstraction can be seen to implicate man’s total history, and frame the true object of thought as a retroviral incubation of the gnostic-gene in the Manichean terms of a final kenosis of the subject] when subjected to the chiastic reversal constitutive of the epistasis, produce orbits around which metonyms are accreted as vortical entanglements of vectors in 3-d space, ie. in the third map of which we are now speaking,-- pre-conceived in the Brunonian erotic-cosmology of a psyche with heights and depths for whose ascent the orbit of the furores must be broken by sufficiently energized or daemonized processes of imagination.)) as irreducible to the categories of the lattice itself, (the categories of science) and on which basis the lattice reorganizes itself as the great cosmic Mirror of the Transcendent Ordo; [See: Voegelin, hypo-stasis, reification, etc.] a universal kabbalah through which all interconnections within the structure of knowledge itself can be revealed across all levels of reality, unreality, and areality,- dissolved into the endless permutations of the clockwork-mechanism like the fading microwave-background radiation of the universe left behind following the ontic scissure or, to state it at the lower-level abstractions of the natural sciences, the big bang which disrupted the higherdimensional unified-field by collapsing it into a lower energy state; (the expansion of the big bang is actually more of a ground state to some more highly energized field that combined all the apparent forces of nature that operate in our universe) dissolved like the imprint of God upon the void in which Matter welled forth from the emanations following the mysteries of the Lurianic-tzimtzum and was stained thereafter by an intrinsic egoism,- a longing of Matter for the absent God following the contraction of his divine-presence (as AUR from the AYN-SOPH) that had made space for the World which, in that egoism’s unregulated fury, inverts the divine potencies represented by the Paths on the Tree of Life and takes advantage of Malkuth’s singular capacity for autogenerating the Zohar so as to hoard the Light away in the folds of material,- in the seething womb of the prohodos.
Normal, ‘dianoetic’ reason, under the illusion of the univocal, takes two parts of something and tries to fit them together, whereas, through the event of singularity, the noetic mode intended to be formalized by the Idearium, like the Adamic-tongue of Benjamin’s metalinguistics and Neo-Platonic scheme fitting entire languages together by producing a third language in which they both can participate instead of merely translating from one language into another, allows two completely unrelated things, for which no dialectic can assert the synthematic diversion required in the initiation of dynamic interplay within the coincidentia, to interact and produce, through resonance [ie. synchronicity revealed through encoding-decoding one form of information into another] in the zairja itself, instead of synthesis, a completely spontaneous circumstance or asyntheme in which both of these parts, instead of being fit together as two fragments of one whole, autopoetically generate the media of their discourse. This new dialogia or ‘whole’ is new, that is to say,- it is creatively produced instead of being passively discovered, as it comes after the fragmentation and not before it.
I’m 100% cool with State Tax. That money pays for schools, public transportation, police and firemen, sanitation, untilities, etc etc.
Federal tax is many times more than state tax, and we all know that the bulk of it goes into the pyramid scheme that is social security, medicare/medicaid, and fighting wars.
Where would I be without Federal taxes? Right here.
ho.lee.christ, Parodites.
This is your brain.
This is your brain on the occult.
This is your brain on the occult in a room for 15 years.
Dawg when you mix all the pain meds with it, shit gets real deep real fast. I’ve been places.
But as I said: that text is sort of a Kierkegaard style joke, since I am using the rhetoric of those I am arguing against to an extent beyond what even they are able to do with it. But it’s also serious, in the sense that every word actually does mean something. But then again its a joke because I do not believe in the things I am talking about, if you are able to decipher what it is saying. But then again, I do believe in precisely what it’s not talking about- if you are able to decipher that. But then again … [In other words Phoneutria, you’re goddamn right I make certain things inaccessible or arcane or incomprehensible. As did all esotericists and ancient sophic masters, the bearers of Light. First of all, doing so enables you to use rhetoric in inventive ways and tell multi-leveled jokes like that; second, it creates an order of rank. I want to attract certain readers: and repel others. That is what style means. You can 't write to just attract, what. Everyone? Is what you have to say so tepid, so lukewarm, so grey that it could even be digested by everyone let alone desired by everyone? In my last posts I demonstrated using the modern poetic elocution to out-poet the poets, then the academic lexicon to break and humble academia, lets do Elizabethan prose next: (in which, to draw in no small part on my sense for the meta, I say exactly that about the nature of style as doubly a force of attraction and repulsion)
" Prometheus gave us fire, and that’s half the enterprise of knowledge, yet we are none of us Titans in suffering and recoil at the shock of conscience, while fate’s softer blows more precisely cut the hard gem of virtue into shape of dignity and leafs a gilding yet conformable to perfection. Man can heave no monument without time, nor stone obtund his blade its devotions with fire alone, that we might make good proportion of this invention. For beauty is measured by how fiercely it perishes upon the border of the ineffable, surrendered with ample prodigy the putant devastated, et scarabaeus imputans, crucifex and cruciform, O-UR-AINOS-TOU-PAN-DEMOS, beneath the golden wings of the scarab and forgotten egent; with tears brought even within the countenance of mystery- by the appointment of its name and in what certainty of character it rounds off a demarcation of the invariable, or by what innocence it looks out beyond its own secrets, carrying the “sigh of our love” past the shore, after the old Roman poets; for beauty is measured by which side of our heart it turns to face the horizon, or by the taken stars in which it’s crossed our fate, our mournful avenance, our assumed deity and total heritant, by whose dispensation we are permitted to keep neither fragrance or indiadem, thereupon bereft a beloved, at the seat of our virtue, with neither the riches of poverty or the poverty of wealth, knowing neither abjection or hope, lest our wisdom take revenge upon us like the honor forgotten by a spiteful daughter." – A Glorious Risk, Preface.
Sounds like a bad case of fibromyalgia… a relentless musculoskeletal/nerve pain combo.
Maaan… if so? that’s a nasty (modern) illness to have, and at such a young age too… even worse. Props to you, bro…
No magsj. It’s trigeminal neuralgia. The good old “suicide disease” as they call it. I was 14 when it first appeared. From that point until now, at 30; I have known it all day, every day. It makes it impossible to eat most of the time, my lowest weight ever recorded was 92 pounds. But I thank God- genuinely, for forcing me, through it, to find a reason to live. As I write in volume 4 of my work, Yielding Stars, in the 20th erotoime or love-refrain: so many people live without a reason to live, for they never went without one; so many live without hope, for they were never hopeless.
" Most people live without hope, because they were never hopeless. In the sad margin to that desert egoism we call life, as Stendhal referred to it, we can only hope to receive, if even for moments only, a glimpse over the edge, a glimpse into another life. We shall be twin initiated in the mysteries of the Dawn, for everything beautiful makes us want to stand in its current, and be swept up with it, into another life, into another wave, into its vanishing-- into love, to perish against the ineffable with it.
It’s passable in a book.
This is a discussion board though. It’s a philosophy themed watering hole.
Do you also talk in run-on sentences for 10 minutes in a roll when you’re out with friends?
Oh, right, you don’t have any.
You’ve sacrificed your ability to interact with other members of the species for the sake of your art.
/torment.jpg
Dude, you can disagree with me. That’s cool.
Genuinely if you quoted that here from a book I’d read it, but not a mass of text written by one of you quacks.
90% of whats on this forum is garbage.
Santo Daime != DMT
Don’t talk about things about which you know nothing. Or do if you want to make an ass of yourself, your call.
Also if you’re going to continue calling me stupid, silly, dumb, you may want to learn how to spell.
If that’s what it seems, that it must be so!
*therefore
*Your
It is not suitable for this format and frowned upon by editors at large. This is a statement of fact.
You wouldn’t know. You’ve been stuck in a room for 15 years. You’ve turned a blind eye to the world and allowed yourself to become obsolete.
A forum, nonetheless.
You’ve aimed insults at me multiple times (dumb, stupid, silly), but I am not insulted. I do not know the feeling.
Though your patronizing tone does give me an instinctive reflex of disgust. Is that what being insulted means?
Disgust, but not as much as picturing the repulsiveness of your physical person, alone in a room, muttering to himself while posturing on a message board and licking the doritos dust off your fingers.
Next is you’re going to try to have be banned, right?
Pathetic 
hahahahah omfg
As difficult as it is for you to admit that you are wrong, and I don’t need to make any assumptions about you. I can just list as evidence the fact that nobody reads what you write, and the couple of people who have voiced agreement with me in this very thread.
I literally just came in here to ask you to hit enter every now and then.
That is an example of your deliberate lack of clarity of thought.
Your writing is confusing, verbose, and not particularly interesting.
You could have deleted your entire OP and written, “the USA should do away with its unconstitutional agencies”.
What a novel fucking thought.
You are overrrated.
Why do you stop in the middle of a post to me to shoot a message to someone else and then back to me?
Seriously. Get your shit in order in your own head first, then you type it out.
I can only imagine what a monumental mess those 10 volumes must be. You can’t even organize yourself to blurb at people, let alone write at length.
Your editors must just be either perfect saints to fix this shit for you, or have incredibly low standards.
The editors at grad level where my stuff used to get reviewed would publicly shame you if you pulled this on them.
She wouldn’t. Nobody would. That was the joke. Fixed, plus someone who is obligated to support you, but would probably just use it as a paper weight.
poor writing skills
can’t spell
doesn’t understand humor
There have been a lot of instances of people contesting tax law based on the specifics of the wording in the amendment. These always get shot down.
I think that arguing on those terms is frivolous.
That taxation is theft is a matter of principle.
Someone “comes” to my house and demands to know what’s of value in it, and then demands to take a share of it, under the threat of imprisonment, with grounds on an affiliation that I never signed up for and where I am not represented.
This kind of thing has caused a revolution or two in the past.
“You’ve sacrificed your ability to interact with other members of the species for the sake of your art.”
Well, I got a woman half-way across the world, who is objectively more attractive than you, to spend nearly 8,000 dollars of her own money to come to my residence with a, well romantic intention, knowing that I had no intention to repay that money; she simply wished to. So no, I can interact with you beings just fine. Very well actually. I took up my ascetic lifestyle because I genuinely prefer solitude most of the time.
“Disgust, but not as much as picturing the repulsiveness of your physical person, alone in a room, muttering to himself while posturing on a message board and licking the doritos dust off your fingers.”
I haven’t gotten on a forum or social media in years Phone. So I don’t know what that bit’s about. And as you may have gleaned from my response to Magjs, I don’t eat; let alone doritos. However (and the woman I referred to fell in love with me then, when I was physically the most ill, not after my transformation) I took to a diet of almost exclusively protein drinks and started exercising to blow off steam in that cave, if you would like to see my literal 10 pack abs.
Also, did you just grammar nazi me on two typos? Hey, you need to sit back and ask yourself what you’re doing Phone. I’m just gonna call you Phone, is that alright Phone? Of greater note is your implying I have called you things like silly or stupid. No, Phone. I said your suggestion that I shorten my paragraphs was stupid. After refering you to several examples of the manual of style in the fields I write in and study, and your reluctance to yield, only then did I say that your suggestion to- edit my work? That I spent 15 years in a cage working on and for which I already made several connections in the publishing world? You want to edit me? A little girl DMT tripping on an internet forum with the bright idea of writing smaller paragraphs? Who doesn’t even have anything in her post history remotely connected to anything I write about? And your insistence on this became more and more dramatic until it became silly. It isn’t unusual to have paragraphs that long in academia Phone. Just stop.
“Your writing is confusing, verbose, and not particularly interesting.”
Well you’d need to understand it first to say that, and you don’t.
“It is not suitable for this format and frowned upon by editors at large. This is a statement of fact.”
What format? The fucking forum? I am telling you that longer paragraphs like that are objectively not uncommon Phone. I’ve read 2-3 books a day for more than 15 years straight remember- I would know.
"You could have deleted your entire OP and written, “the USA should do away with its unconstitutional agencies”.
Well see, that would miss the point of the thread, which was an emphasis on the concept of implicit rights and the manner in which the Constitution utilizes them. See: you need to read better Phone. You need to git moar guder at deh wordies words.
“She wouldn’t. Nobody would. That was the joke. Fixed, plus someone who is obligated to support you, but would probably just use it as a paper weight.”
K well like I said, several publishers were interested in reading it: and in publishing it. Fixed is my friend but I hardly need his help with you; I told him to stay out of this going forward.
" Don’t talk about things about which you know nothing. Or do if you want to make an ass of yourself, your call."
I am being trite and dismissive with you; I know about your ceremonial ethnobotanic rites. I even engaged in them when I was young. Phoneutria: I know everything. So, please.
Promethean, do you want to take this one… or shall I?
I like big words. They allow you to speak more with less. Also, my native language is a romantic one, so latin is second nature. Greek root doesn’t scare me though, like I said, I was in academia for a few years. Maybe save it for someone who’ll be impressed.
Me: Parenthetically, why would my mom want to read about Peircean semiotics and hyperinflation? The readers from the actual academic group or publisher would be quite enough.
Phone: She wouldn’t. Nobody would. That was the joke. Fixed, plus someone who is obligated to support you, but would probably just use it as a paper weight.
poor writing skills
can’t spell
doesn’t understand humor
(I know you were in academia, you told us. Computers. Got it. Now go ahead and reply to my other response to you, though I felt the need to isolate this one:
Phone… I know that was the joke. That’s why I made the absurd association of my mother reading my essays on mimetic hyperinflation… I was making a joke in response… Wow you really are just… Are you serious? The fucking irony of telling me I don’t understand humor while not understanding the humor of the post you quoted in response to. I was under the impression that you had some intelligence but were just really strong willed and had a personality that didn’t mesh with mine, but it really does seem that you’re just. You’re not following things. And I am not going to try to get you banned. You’ve repeatedly insulted me for no real reason and broken the decorum of the forum. You are the one trying to get yourself banned.
Oh, you speak Latin now too Phone?
“Quis non ingenio parente natus, et claris genitus patre atque matre natura duce glorietur. Dedisti queis mala aegritudo possit tolli animo, velint mederi fors a pessima opinione, nuper incertae generationis.”
(Btw I don’t bother quoting your actual post because I really don’t care enough. There’s usually just a sentence that I feel is worth responding to and I don’t want to waste space where my OWN words could be.)
And my writing skills, which you appear to have become obsessed with, (you are not the first to fall in love with me on their account) well again from the perspective of High School writing format- I guess I’m a little long winded. But please. Even those who I have gone out of my way to make hate me, out of more political disinclination; even those people with whom I have shared the most unpleasant exchanges and, to borrow a little from our more urban lexicon, “had a beef” have humbled themselves enough to admit the strength of my writing, despite our disagreements, even when they were bitter. Please.
" However, let conscience ear the pitch of flatter ambition, while we speak on behalf of encouragement and fire for the moment, excepting of course a bit of precocity and harmlessness to be always present in the passion for knowledge- in philosophy, and ask the lotus at least bend her cup to dew our tearful dawn; 4 tearful, though in what dawn drives smoothe the tracks of beaten consonancy upon friendlier adunations, had saddled kings by Orient scale, or drawn up calendars in nobler stars than these, which spool the compact of hearts met in the low ambition of mortality in which we bear strife, leaven the strict mean of virtue’s best proportion by what heavenly comportments, and further stoke the flame of love in the serried cameo of her devouter witness.
To abstain from drawing out the bite of Alcibiades’ serpent, in philosophy; neither too early pricking the skin of the overladen fruit of wisdom, were a call for quite Aristotelian moderation and tastefulness. All instincts are credulous of themselves; all passions wish to believe in themselves, and, lest we thicken the clot of affections nearer the bone, we should avoid drawing out the sting of wisdom by too desperate a satisfaction, and refuse any subject upon which our heart still has its stake and dolce nella memoria, in Petrarch’s phrase, writing only about that in which our passions, for both joy and sorrow, have learned to relent. One must bury alike one’s loves and one’s grief in one’s self in order to see beyond them; one must always write from beyond them, and upon what Phoebian bow compose new gemitus still better-cadenced to the intention. " **
[size=85]* toto corpore scintillat, compare Pound’s translations of remir.
** The sorrow that Ovid expressed with a comparison of the gemitus or lament of Phoebus to an animal’s cry, Chaucer depicts with silence, in the figuration of the artist destroying his own instrument.[/size]
– A Glorious Risk, Preface; Sect. I.