gOoGlE cAnT eVeN fInD iT
tell us about your 10-pack abs
been in a cave for 10 years
writing 10 volumes
about 10 authors
that google can’t even find
while drinking 10 bottles
and taking 10 pills
and wailing on my
10-pack aaaaabs
Once again, I am freely offering what I put together- what might be the greatest repository of knowledge on this earth, curated out of several hundred unindexed university servers and digitized private libraries, a secondary life’s work I invested 16 years in now, and instead of asking for access to it, you’d rather annoy me. So like I said Phoneutria, honestly: what does that say about you? It says you’re a fucking loser.
As to my abs: well the alcohol and drugs have taken a toll on my physique the last two years, since I can’t really eat anymore, I just puke immediately afterward. But not long ago, I was quite well endowed by nature. Feast your eyes on this honey:
i.ibb.co/hd5542k/IMG-20191209-1 … nnnnnn.jpg
Can you count them by yourself or do you need me to hold your hand and mock up a fucking diagram for you?
definitely i am going to speak for everyone here
and say that we need the diagram
Oh wait I forgot, I think my imagebb is privated. I included the non-diagram and the diagram in here anyway so it’s cool:
Anyway, after you get yourself off with that corrected link, (which I will reiterate: imgur.com/a/HMWkYNy by the way, there’s one natural endowment that the drugs and booze haven’t fucked up 
Well, I mean, performance is an issue but, haven’t fucked up in terms of actual dimensions!) let’s get back to the whole, you’d rather annoy me than humble yourself and ask for access to the digital repository I put together and freely offer, because you’re too bent on psychologically projecting your own failures as a human being and an artist on me to listen. If someone refuses to read me (just take ME out of the picture for a moment) they are refusing a compendium of unknown ancient-to-18th century-or-so-writers that have never been indexed by any search engine and are entirely inaccessible- except through ME. So what does that say about them? The same thing it says about you. It says they’re fucking losers too bent on resolving their cognitive dissonance about not actually knowing anything to simply humble themselves and listen to me.
Having given voice to my increasing annoyance with people, their psychological projections and deficiencies, their inability to engage with me philosophically or even at this personal level, their unwillingness to humble themselves or listen, their inability to be grateful even when offered the basically limitless, free knowledge I offer,- free knowledge that is impossible to access except through me, because I spent the unfathomable time required to “index” what the Internet couldn’t, etc. To draw on that wealth of knowledge, whose compilation is my secondary life’s work, and cite Theophile Spizelius, in his Nuncupatoria Epistola ad Arcana Retecta Theologicorum: “Spem in homine neutiquam locandam.” He’s paraphrasing an even more unknown author- Martinus Foegelius. The quote means: there is hope for man, to be sure, but it is not to be found in man. As little as one should hope to find the luminous soul of the Sun within the airy scintillae of the stars, or, continuing the citation: Quam exigua scintillulae in solis splendore lux. And every morning, I hope the Sun melts away you little, scintillae.
“…it is not to be found in man” or man’s fleshy doings. The soul cooperates with the physical body but it is not of the matter made flesh, but rather made of pure conscious energy. The first hope, is it man’s or the Godhead’s. The last hope, is it the Godhead’s or man’s. To ascend, we judge ourselves whilst floating as conscious energy near the perfection of the Godhead. Once the perfection of the Godhead radiates through your conscious being, your soul, you will be as naked as Adam and Eve in paradise, you will feel your worth and decide if you are worthy of being made whole. I did not feel worthy of feeling so fantastic, I missed my matter made flesh and re-entered my fallen state, incomplete still.
But what does being made whole mean? Becoming an angel, becoming one with the Godhead, death
Thank you for the real reply Wendy, and it is a thought I have borne myself for a long time, which I will address as soon as I blow off one more bit of steam toward Phone:
–
Yeah, it’s about time you finally shut the fuck up Phoneutria. (By the way, since you brought my physique up in a completely unrelated context and were obviously dwelling on it, and having corrected what I believe was a privated link,- if the diagram isn’t enough, I’ll write you up a fucking spreadsheet or something.)
Read the scintillae thing in the post before this one. Every morning. Never happens. But every morning. Yeah. Maybe Theophile Spizelius and Martinus Foegelius weren’t enough, but I am restricting myself to referring to shit only from my last post in this thread, and the knowledge conferred there. So how about Nicolae Pruncu de Focsiani, in the prelude to his poetic suspirations from 1868, who I also drew on in a similar context,- and which I will draw on here, in yet a similar context again: because he greeted the morning with this same hope lodged in his breast: la amor la amicie in vercic d’acum sufletu’ mi e mutu caci de linar, si amarul si nectarul amorului, am gustatu si credind in amicie din pruncie am fost vecinicu inselato. Don’t tell me you can’t read Latin OR Romanian? Fuck.
Now. Ah, Wendy, someone who isn’t intent on fucking annoying me and wasting my time because they can’t handle the weight of the Word. You might have decided to re-enter your fallen state- as did I. Hence my irreverence, my ego, (I would note that my ego is balanced by the fact that I freely offer all my knowledge- the fact that you people- not you Wendy, or Menos either- would rather annoy me than ask for it, is the first test I administer to people I talk to. To see if they’re worth talking to.) my flesh-experiments as the Zosimian Gnostics would call it- my poisons, my drugs. But recall the myth of the Bodhisattva. Having attained the nibbanic vision, he refused re-absorption into the Godhead to be re-precipitated into the dregs of matter, echoing the ‘divine infidelity’ of the Godhead itself, the Creator’s having turned his back upon the Creation … He does this so that he can be thrown back into the cycle of birth and death and rebirth, to exist alongside the rest of the species for another 100 billion years and serve as a guide for others, for others to attain the Paradise he refused. This duplicity, of having attained the highest vision and denied it to one’s self… this deliberate act of sin, to fall purposefully, as the Demiurge or Gnostic angel himself did, back into matter… This is what Dante calls the duo ultimos hominis. An aporia or interim between the conclusion of the earthly and celestial paradise.
We find this “duo ultimo hominis” continually defended by Dante, from his theological, to his political, to his poetic texts, as an “aporetic ground” through which an indeterminate interim between the consummation of earthly and divine authority is described through the memory of the ‘terrestrial paradise’, per paradisum terrestrem figuratur, [J. Aleksander, The Aporetic Ground of Revelation’s Authority in the Divine Comedy and Dante’s Demarcation and Defense of Philosophical Authority. A memory that must remain precisely that: a memory.] “stressing the nature and function of each alike as a moment of reconfigured consciousness preliminary to the soul’s entry into the immediate presence of God, and in that of Inferno xxix by way of precisely the opposite, of the soul’s captivity …” [Vertical Readings in Dante’s Comedy; Vol. 3; John Took, in: Truth, Untruth, and the Moment of Indwelling.] such that “the horizontality of human experience, its unfolding sequentially or in terms of the before and after of its key components, (a la. ‘predicative logic’) is resolved in terms of its verticality, of the height and depth of that experience”. [Ibid.]
I thank you for lifting my humor out of the mire of this horseshit fucking waste of my morning and now my mid-day buzz, Wendy.
Well of what I wrote wasn’t figurative but a literal experience when I was 18 yrs. old. One minute I was driving over railroad tracks, the next… there, wherever there was, it was up and pure peace streamed through my soul body. There’s also down, below the Earth plane, a place of hopelessness filled with many souls.
Still trying to find others who understand and have insight about where “there” is, who know of their soul, and learn how to have the courage to find that I am worthy of such an unknown.
Plato described the soul correctly somewhere in his works which I’m trudging through way too slowly.
Parodites wrote
That is no myth. But did the Bodhisattva pull a fast one on the Godhead? Or did he return because he didn’t know what would trigger his fall? I fell too but it was only after I worried about my earthly body getting crushed on the railroad tracks, I was torn away by a consideration that perhaps to the Godhead is defiance because as soon as I longed to know of my physical body, I fell. Is enjoying humanity, longing to feel it all rather than whole/peace/perfection “this duplicity” “a deliberate of sin?” I didn’t know “That was the Godhead,” so this sin of not knowing or loving the Godhead enough may not be purgeable. I won’t know unless I get another chance…to take a leap of faith.
Parodites wrote
Speaking “to the soul’s captivity” is two fold in the acceptance of our earthly form, we make peace with it, but also the struggle to accept our heavenly form which is initially more feeling and less thinking. When I got “there” I was stunned and overwhelmed by what I was feeling which was so intense that I couldn’t think which made me struggle as if “the soul’s captivity” were a bad thing which made me basically have a mental freak out fueled with some anger thinking, “how dare you drug me” until I could think unfettered then I felt unworthy, then worried about my body, and “BAM”, I chucked myself out by worrying about my human form.
I think each plane, other than the earth plane which is a mixture of all emotions/feelings, is limited to one very strong feeling/emotion. Up “there” was peace, down “there” was hopelessness. But as I fell from above and rose from below, there are several other planes, planes above and below Earth.
lol absolutely yes i want the spreadsheet
Parodites you need to get up with The Golden Turd. He’s the only guy here who would get into the same stuff as you besides jakob the fixed barbarian and saully.
yeah but the turd is funny
my point
Turd’s humor is cynical, while funny, it’s an outward flailing at an indescribable dissatisfaction, where Parodites hangs his hopes on possibilities, while romantic, it’s an inward flailing in an indescribable dissatisfaction. I like both but for vastly different reasons, and while turd and parodites may share data, turds would be political and utilitarian while parodites would be reverential and spiritual.
wendy maybe check out irene blavatski
treaty on cosmic fire
Thanks.
Uh, couldn’t find it? There was a treatise on cosmic fire by allison bailley (sp?)
i confuse the two in my head
that’s the one
there’s free pdfs online
No, don’t check her out, it’s a bunch of Westernized retard-ification of actual traditions from other parts of the world that are, in fact, worth looking into.
My antisophianic cryptognosticism, that is, my Fall back into Mortality, though in no small part indemnified by the contemplative mode, is not altogether couched upon the realm of the Ideas: I draw from experience as well. I play a balancing act with death every day. I have a near death-experience every other night just trying to get some sleep. I have learned, when you’re nodding out really hard, to lay stomach-down and kind of lean your head over the side of the bed so you don’t choke to death on your vomit, and it just winds up on the floor. Picked that tip up from the man himself, Bukowski. At any rate, this Fall… Is it a deliberate sin? Everything is deliberate, so yes. Everything stretched out over this vale of tears,- in this vale of ‘soul-making’ in Keats’ expression,- in between you being born and you dying, is simply a recreation- that is your liberty; your deliberation. We are voluntary captives to this world, so that we can make of our dreams, involuntary captives of ‘another world’. That’s Proust.
I didn’t know who Turd was, but I searched his posts and it doesn’t seem like he knows shit. Just a typical edgelord troll. Roll on over to 4chan /pol or the linux community over there, plenty of them. What, he voted for Trump too so I’m supposed to give a shit.
As to humor? Humor? “CoMeDY iS SuBjEcTiVe MURRRAYYYYYYY, isn’t that what they say?” I am not without humor, it’s just that my humor is a humor about humor about humor, that is: it’s simply humor on another level is all. Look at the fucking title of this thread. “The Ultimo Schizopost.” Actually read it. Specifically, this paragraph here: (if you can’t get the joke out of this, fuck off. Actually don’t, because that’s good. The joke is that you’re unable to tell if it’s a joke or not. So carry on.)
// It is a curious thing, that Schlegel also found himself “forced into speech”, though in his case, this was phrased as being “forced to produce irony
against one’s will” by an “irony that has run wild and can’t be controlled any longer”, (while writing about the different levels of irony to which
the author might dare to climb, running the danger that at some point he would find himself “unable to disentangle himself from the irony
anymore”, and therefor compelled ineluctably, as though by some external power, to perpetuate it mechanically, ie. by a free-mimesis.) Along
these lines, Schlegel writes incomprehensibly of the incomprehensible in his “Essay on Incomprehensibility”, in which he expounds upon his
conceptualization of irony and the recursive ad infinitum of an “irony of irony”. To paraphrase the contents of this text: the world’s greatest truths
are quite trivial, boring, and forgettable most of all, thus nothing is more important than finding, through idealism, poetry, distortions, lies, and
ever greater paradox, (ever greater irony) ever more novel and absurd ways of expressing them, such that man does not forget these ignoble
‘truths’,- or simply become too disaffected to acknowledge them anymore,- upon which his life and civilization, tedious as they are, certainly
depend. It is, in other words, the incomprehensible basis of our own human nature, through which we discover the necessary parallel to World,
Truth, and God,- a profane analogia through which we might develop these absurdities, paradoxes, and artistic irony,- arriving therefor, at a new
understanding of our un-understanding, which is to say: arriving finally, at a mis-understanding (an irony) of this new understanding. (of
our un-understanding.) Thus, if the world were to ever become comprehensible fully, man would on that account cease mis-understanding
himself: he would then be completely unable to understand the world now grown incomprehensible, and would simply perish while attempting
to nourish himself with stones. //
Did you get the last two sentences? With all the bolded words ya know. Because unless you understood it, you won’t be able to get the joke… but if you get the joke, you cease being able to understand it… so then it stops being a joke, but then… Do you need to go over it again? That’s fine.
Having addressed the idea of humor, of which I am decisively masterful, as I am masterful of all things, I would move on to the other subject I meant to re-assert. The notion of the ars memoriae and of an ‘active memory’- a memory driven by “generative images”.
Memory can be transformed into a palace, into what I called an alchemical vestibule in my other post on the subject. Seriously Phone, I tell you I have unrecorded Petrarch poems I found in my digitized manuscript collection, the lost works of the Gnostic sage Apollonius, in Latin translation, all of this shit and you tell me you’re not gonna read my posts. Don’t fucking read them then, but humor me: what exactly do you get out of being so intentionally dense?
In the first page of this thread, I broached upon the subject of the ars memoriae. I’m not going to repeat what I said about it- I am going to add to it though, so go back and re-read my first post about it if you feel the need. The art of memory, kabbalistic synchromystism, Trithemian cryptography, gematria, Hermetic alchemy,- all of these seemingly unrelated topics are actually very deeply related. I will include an exploration of this inter-relationship here:
The idea of kabbalistic text is to create a “generative-image” at the level of language, as a
kind of continuously generative ilanoth* or dialog-network and aesthetic formula.
Patches of foreign languages, references, self-references, disjoint mythology and
symbolism drawn from the corners of the earth and the folds of unfamiliar generations,
extended and mixed metaphors, gematria, word-play, is all cast in such a way as to
synergize multiple levels of meaning. The Encomium to Gnosis examples this realization
of the idea. However, the generative-image itself must first be grasped at the purely symbolic
and alchemical level.
[size=85]* The word seems to come from the Aramaic poetry of the pre-Christian era, which recorded a tradition concerning what are called ilanot, described as golden trees, which were grown inside of Solomon’s temple. They bore fruit as would any other tree, and this fruit was somehow used to repair the temple when needed. This recalls the multiplicatio of gold through the workings of the philosophic stone. Many centuries later, the word seems to refer to the pre-Lurianic cosmological diagrams which fill so may inscrutable pages in the Kabbalistic and Hermetic manuscripts- diagrams that were used in the same way the ars memoria was used in the Renaissance, which will be discussed at greater length in this essay- namely to implant knowledge as a living system rather than merely a collection of dead, disparate, and route facts- that is, within active, as opposed to passive memory. The term recalls the arbor raritatis as well.
[/size]
The generative-image has many applications and meanings, and one of the most
interesting is the least understood. The generative-image, be it the protophanic ourgias, the
Strophalos, the Sephirotic Tree, or Dee’s monad, all serve to accomplish what Giordano
Bruno (who wrote the Eroici Frenzies, an inspiration for my philosophy of the daemonic:
mens-heroica is one of his terms) called, the contractio. He uses this word both in his
philosophy,* as a metaphysical concept, and in hermetic texts about the art of memory, as
a memory device.
[size=85]* ie. The “vertical-daemonic element”.
[/size]
As to the seemingly mysterious relationship between Hermetic philosophy, magick, and
the memory arts, as we gather from the fact that these symbols,- these generative-images,-
are often used in technical manuals as tools for memorizing complex information, it must
be said that memory, at the time, had far richer connotations than it does now. When
people read such books on the art of memory today, they get little of the real context or
sense. The point of this generative-image is not just to implant things in the memory- but
to implant things in active memory. Since the Plutosophia or “sancta memoria” of the
Medieval era, memory had associations with creative energy at the time because the
divide between “conscious” and “unconscious” in modern psychology wasn’t made yet. The
generative-image allows you to implant things in the memory in such a way that it
actually lives, becomes active, and unconsciously stimulates the productive associations
characteristic of artistic genius: the generative-image implants things in the memory as
active creative forces instead of dead, route memorized knowledge. Bruno has many texts
on this; de umbras idearum, ars memoria, etc. To store things, not in passive memory as
dead knowledge, but as a living system,- in active, artistic, creative memory, as a living
force: this is one practical goal of the generative-image. The Sephirot, too, act as
conceptual filing systems for implanting the Talmud in the memory as a creative, living,
active force, instead of a dead system. This application is shared by all “generative-images”,
most explicitly with the Hermeticists, and it allows them to act as diagrammatic
maps of active forces- libidinal flows as alchemical, transformative processes able to be
guided and controlled, within active-memory and unconscious imagination; maps of the
unconscious like the maze of the Hekataic strophalos. All such diagrams are self-recursive
sigillum, reflecting the infinite creative potential of unconscious forces as libidinal flows.
These unconscious creative forces cannot be rendered in direct language, because if they
are-- they cease to be unconscious creative forces. They become route knowledge, and
dead. That is the importance of the ars memoria and why there are multiple levels of
symbolic meaning in different schema and why the ancient mysteries, like those
conducted around Eleusis, proceeded in stages of unveiling: the idea is to unfold the
meaning of it in such a way as to preserve the integrity, vital strength, and psychological
power of these forces at the level of the conscious mind.
Related to this connection with Bruno’s ars memoria, another aspect of the generative-image
is the world of dreams. Once you have implanted such a system inside of your memory as a
living construct that you can manipulate inside your head and store other concepts inside of,
and you meditate on it and intentionally use it, it begins to restructure both the content and
form of you dreams. Normally, dreams are no more significant than most people’s waking
thoughts; they are as semi-random as they seem and have little symbolic meaning,- that fell
out of psychology for good reason, the “interpretation of dreams.” However, after activating the
active forces of memory, you will see that the figures and symbols of these systems fill your
dreams, and also the narrative structure of your dreams changes to reflect the structure of
these systems, making your dreams actually have real symbolic meaning that is interpretable.
Thus the distinction between ‘false and true dreams’ in Hermeticism and the existence of
talismantic sigillum specifically intended for inducing prophetic dreams, which you can see in
Agrippa for example. Consequently, one of the highest developments of such meditation is the
blurring of the boundary between dreams and the unconscious, memory, active memory,
waking life, and intentional consciousness.
Because of the same lack of context that obfuscated the reason for memory and the
memory arts being associated with Hermeticism, philosophy, and various systems of
magic, so there is a lack of context that renders the association of these same things
with cryptography, as is found in the Steganographia by Trithemius, quite mysterious
to the modern reader. Cryptography, like memory, had far richer associations than it
does now. That will be explored later in this work.
Now, before I get to my concluding note, as to several boastful claims I made. I feel the need to explain how it works in modern research, because otherwise it will not be clear to you what exactly I am intimating, as a kind of proof of the relevant claims. In academia, when one is researching something, or preparing a paper, there is a preliminary stage they go through called systematic review, or citation screening, which is either crowd-sourced or automated through a variety of software toolkits. The software extracts information from the abstracts of papers contained in a database, or in a cross-compilation of multiple databases, using all kinds of different algorithms and search routines,- that’s a first-pass; once a certain amount of papers have been weened out of the greater pool of available material and extracted from the repository, ie. papers that might be relevant to the research being done, a second-screen is performed, whereby humans manually go through the abstracts of the remaining papers extracted in the automatic process and find the relevant material they will include in their own as citations. If you didn’t know: that’s how papers are prepared. The person doesn’t just know all of the shit and have the references in their head. While the most important research, the most relevant papers to their own, they might have read in full, the fact is that, most of the time, the person hasn’t even read the papers being cited in their own paper, only small portions of them, and they’re just including something filtered out of a big ass repository of papers by an automated software, from which the references are extracted and even pre-formatted for universality, manual of style, as well as convenience. I use a lot of the software myself when dealing with modern academic papers, (which I pirated illegally in obscene quantities, because I believe pirating stuff is a civic duty, as long as you believe in freedom of information like I do) though I actually read the whole thing, unless it blows, in which case I don’t use it in my own work anyway. But then we have the issue at hand- my personal digital library of obscure materials, amassed in the process I described- over 16 years now. I had to manually go through hundreds of unindexed university servers, (half of which don’t even have functional websites, so I had to come up with and code my own scripts to even deal with the shitty interface, which demanded by itself another completely separate time-investment on my part) the digitized library collections of various private institutes, etc. And to do that, I had to learn a variety of languages. That’s not why I learned them; I learned them to enjoy literature in its original form, but it would be quite necessary for anyone attempting to do what I have done.
At any rate- if that material, from which I draw my obscurer sources, is unsearchable and unindexed… then how would I produce the dense dialogue-networks of interconnected allusions and quotes? How would I find the associations between 20 different texts and authors on the one subject? The only way, would be if I… actually read all of it. And didn’t just read it- but had all of it, somehow, stored verbatim in my active memory, simultaneously. Just there… you know, just there next to the million times that amount of shit on every other subject I write about. That is inhuman. It doesn’t make sense. It defies what is possible normally, given human biology and just, how memory works. It’s savant level. Yet (although I was advantaged by nature with an exceedingly high IQ) I wasn’t always able to accomplish such feats of memory; I didn’t get hit on the head one day and wake up able to do it, like the guy who fell down a flight of stairs and woke up from a coma able to play the piano or whatever; I acquired that superhuman memory through the ars memoriae I was talking about. The text I produce is the actual experimental proof that the bold claims I (and various Renaissance authors) made about the ars memoriae are actually true. That is the point I am attempting to drive home: I am the proof of the claims I made about it. And as I learned it, so others could learn- I’d even teach them. But,- most people being consumed by their cognitive dissonance over being first required to recognize feats beyond their own capability,- not beyond them in terms of distance, but in terms of dimension- so most people come away from it just telling themselves that this memory shit is a bunch of mumbo jumbo and enlightenment and “active memory” and all that, yeah; just a bunch of weirdo occult shit from a few centuries ago, that’s not real. But I don’t know what else to say, because to my mind I think I’ve proven that it is real.
“Fall back into Mortality,”
Without further, this caught my eye, and appears a very essential element to be fixed …but following before any credible comment…