I read Nietzsche’s last books in “Why I’m So Wise” along with Wittgenstein’s last work on color commentary. I’ll separate my reviews but it’s interesting how I noticed that they both showed a bold disposition regarding their extent of knowledge in their old age.
Nietzche reflected on his life like he hadn’t in any other of his writings, as did Witty.
It was personal for him. I wonder if he got frustrated for not having the amount of readers he wished for at the time. He was also lonely. Though he claims that this manifested his quality rather than quantity and that it was only right for a philosopher to be alone, he must’ve been curious of what it would’ve been like to still have his father around, or wife, or close friend.
So with the illnesses he battled and emotional distress he suffered, I also wonder whether it was the breeding ground for his brilliance; his escape of the common boundaries we’re captured by in health and happiness.
Speaking of which, Witty kept going on about these hypothetical colorblind tribes. What we would define as a disability, he would say was an evolutionary astoundment. His full message was something like there being an infinite number of ways matter may appear but we only explain a few and inaccurately at that because they simply cannot be explained.
Here are questions for you.
Is it better to be unhappy and changing, chaotic, growing, reaching for more, becoming, or satisfaction in idleness, an unawakening, peace, decline, death? Or is it beneficial to have a mixture of both? Not just beneficial, but necessary? But is it better to live like you’re dead so you’ll strive for life, what you can’t have, or live like you are, what you are, and what you won’t become?
Crazy, crazy.