¿What (Should) We Want?

Philosophy Forums Philosophy
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What should we want? Whatever does not violate consent. Whatever feeds all consents and violates none (the weaker brother). When you turn back, strengthen your brothers until they are able to count it all joy. Against such things there is no law.

This is binding and loosing, the pivot, the sum of the Law and the Prophets: Treat/Love the other (them) as self (us), and vice versa. You can’t want to not want without wanting, so want the good, beautiful, and true.

Comments… questions… concerns?

[“Within the realm of possibility“ goes without saying as co-creators. Just make sure you haven’t ruled out as impossible what is merely improbable (as in, the miraculous).]

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We cannot understand anything as possible, because everything includes all things probable, including the languages we speak, the thoughts we have, the configurations we experience/see, and all the instants between innumerable times we have gone through it all compressed into one instance out of countless,

That particle, once found, will be left untouchable and periodically visible .

Just like now when the light of the sun is briefly hidden, some think still of a chariot on which certainly it goes beyond, back to the future.

That’s my question and does that reinstate Descartes to sit at the Right Hand?

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What do you mean “reinstate Descartes to sit at the Right Hand”?

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I mean why I chant to the saint that preceded Him , along with Jude, Augustine, Monica,

Upon his shoulders all became clear, and not remembering His name gave virtual incentive to find Him

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Saint Enselm, as soon as closing the above window,

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Merely as a political expedient for projecting Trump the winner in the US election, as a religious backwash toward the ‘right’,

It could mean more, but the political right, may prove right after all, despite the not so obvious ‘fake news’ which is causing Trump so much trouble, it merely underwrites the embeddedness ( Polany) that nei-platonism exercises on general considerations overlapping hard to figure out specifics, that may not prove essential of a required outcome this pivotal year.

Incidentally, a projected solar eclipse will take place tomorrow, 04-08-2024 Shirley’s birthday and reverse to mine, 08-04, of one happens to be Astro-mathematically interested that Nostradamous predicted, and I think you would likely dismiss it as well, but it gives a pause.

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At the very minimum , the ‘right’ win confirms Arminius’ prediction a while back. -lost in the archives , I guess

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Not to get off tangent, I would say Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Men satisfies our hopes and wishes for a universal brotherhood, Ishthus.

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I guess if the nonsense doesn’t violate self=other, it’s fair game, isn’t it.

Very indeterministic. Pregnant with possibility.

Alas. It is written.

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Childish babble has meaning too, for the baby to whom all non sense, sensibility, is sensed as later acquired games, play acting begins with mime, I evolving into games that the self/other; the baby/child/adult can later utilize through the pre set triad of the brain to form the idea of the mind, retaining some things, discarding others, the plaything reified , embeds into structurally constructed realities,

after all these expose themselves as insubstantial , the grains and particles of their composition break down, the reason for their architecture decompose, the sense falters and the abstracted minimal ingredients, that are essentially made of reflected light, become insurmountable reminders of whywherewhowhichwhat started it all; and the presence is pushed back and forth from it’s fulcrum , up and down , sideways through the ageless ages.

I don’t know, but nonsense has it’s value as we all become as we were, I am not what I was , if I was any ‘thing’ at all, all we have are minimal points of light,they all are independent and haloes of meaning can be constructed around them, and who the hell violated our consent to have watched watches neither in the hot desert sun and who gave you permission to run my mouth off and try to think as a philosopher and it’s not about trumping some social benefit to all, but to stick to the light as you pass through spaces marked with do not enter here it is the wrong color and who dares to exit despite’s the no exit signs barring new entrances anyway say the baby, hush little one don’t cry but if you must, don’t wake the others around you.

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We never are any more what we are, we are the same as we will be on passing, unrecognizable to our selves but wear masks to create certainty, without a face , we go around as newborn fish, in an ocean feed if hidden despair, the same double minded 12 that said to Jesus upon his asking if they had fish to eat and they answered they did not, but then forgetting that they did give him fish to eat, but there is more to fish to fish then mere fish, they know there is a really big fish and Noah inside it planning to construct a fish out of wood that can swim using oars and planes resembling birds , of all kinds of glittering things abounding in the sky, luck in the sky, diamond tiaras falling off, the guiloteened heads of brevity.

Oh strange beaten ex patriots, where though not but retain the carcasses of gilded chevies in abandoned valleys of darkening light, pulling us into another lostness, etched forever into the annals of a loosening world, into crevices of red flashing illuminated neon , which never, ever can pass with us who think!

Nonsense

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Do we need more than this? Do we want it after our needs or before?
How can I consider being a slave . A liver, patiently waiting the better life, if not strung out on junk, like this , turning reason against it’self?
The throbbing never stopes, even in absentia, all is live, poetry as my anterior motive sadly shakes his/her head and recommends rest. Not to fear, Nichiren advises.

Shirley again reverses with no, we can absolutely not go to Hiroshima this time, gotta go back home, outa money, time, this nonsense is over promise, it’s the same all over.

Terminally unrequited.

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A beauty beast trip

Brief

How it gies(after becket)

Living things feed on non living things
The mind is like a black hole
Organic substance feeds on the inorganic before feeding on it’s self
As other

All habitable planets have been consumed, then abandoned

That’s why the moon is cheesy and dreamy

If the black holes of the mind can not leave , because they can not afford to leave such a delicious miniature behind, then like all black holes

If they are a certain diameter below the treshold them they will collapse indefinitely

But if they are above that critical massive metaphysical cosmic mind, then they become giants

Super duper novae, astrological cosmic entities, to illuminate all for the briefest possible moment in time, all aglow, ablaze with wonder

And all that infinite moment condenses for fractions indefinite again, fractals to the gods.

One lively shade of color, black and white subtle ivory .score success tremendous, never stopping the applause of concert halls , madames elegance white gloves bejeweled, coffee; again remembrances, past:

Must not hinder eternity to repeat itself it’s so delicious, even the gods pause and wonder, and rebuild, reconstruct, but the caveat:

At the end of non ending, they must never know, for certain that is not always new the old, can never remember they are construed in that image

For the cynics a-plenty abound among them, the smart ones would smart from being slapped around, punished for heresy, to err is divine, to forgive is for Man.

And around and careens the vacuous hole full of light and its darkness of keyed up souls variates like morning dew.

Do best, that you can my friend me my best, and like a an ever launch will it draw into a giant commandment against greed and folly.

Do with me what you must, remembering not I/other, but iyou youi , and how that works out is absolutely out there between feted up sheets with signs lasting crumbled rejection , vapors, vapid dry crumbled up , one time glance: joyfully dancing and prancing in some long winded sigh never expected to survive Aladdin’s careless toss into within it’s lostness:

However who ever finds it thus discarded, don’t steal it from the trembling clutching hand of a naked child out in some hideous barrii, for he wishes only a morsel and a drop and a little wag tail creature his companion.

Now, walk park, vase flower kiss Rimbaud , smack Hell’s Kitchen tatiied high, Brooklyn fog near river, hart crane, oh no.

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Flying to Manila