Where's it all going?

Am posting a thread for no reason.
Isn’t that just great? I gunnu poop.
But the poo can have lots of holy flowers put around it.
We’ll say God made it.

That’s not a pile of shit, that’s God’s Will and God’s creation.
It’s got a big image and a big individual behind it now.
Now it’s not shit anymore, now it’s glorified ego.
Now it’s moral fame.

Next thing I’m going to do:
Randomly make offtopic replies at all threads,
Repeating my own personal opinions eternally.
Make everything more personal and ego-related.
Moralized, what’s valuable and what’s not.
What’s high and what’s low.
I’ll call it descernment, or, build some descernment overtop of it.
I’ll and the perfume of “Reason”, to mask its own stench.
And finally
I will not call it something I spat out or shit out, I will call it
A sort of fact, truth, or correctness [due to the descernment and reason layers overtop of it]. It will be of higher rank and value than the less armored, less described and less appealing.

I’ll pretend to think,
As my front and my shell of autonomy and mod-reality
My acceptable yet totally controlled and centralized reality,
As ideologies built over top of it, to mask it more.
All kinds of metaphysics and physics.
That is a perfect camo net over the implants behind it all.

You know what I’m gunu do?
Repeat the same old circular thought-loops and skins of ideas
For all time, like a machine set to generate and repeat whatever programs are set into it. I’ll build everything on a mix of old ideas that something else from somewhere else put here, then mask it over, with the fragrant and appealing shell. I’ll write books and make movies about it. I’ll make it famous. It will consume the attention, the mental space, the desires, the hopes and the dreams of all men. It shall be what they live for, what they totally believe in, what they work towards, what they turn to, what they build upon. I will control them all by feeding alone, as life revolves around a sort of intake. A constant feeding and breathing. My old and new same concepts, the ideals, the virtues, the gods and the anti-gods, they will be in the air and in the food of the mind. They will be set up high and cast down below. That is how to permiate the consciousness.

I will have wheels of filtered light,
Shine for so long that it numbs the eyes.
Into the back of the head is where the light goes,
Flipped upsidedown and in reverse.

That will all be what I do in the mean-time,
It will just be a destraction.
My true plans are to cut down a sufficient % of all forests,
So that large DOR fields form.
If that’s all done, then it’s over. It will really be all over.
My true plans are desertification.

=D>

I like you Dan~.

Dan~ it almost sounds like you are stalking my threads.

:blush:

However changeable, new and wonderful configurations, an ever-varying splendour intimately connected with the power of thought and associated with a mysterious core of self or personality, has come into my life over the decades and it’s story is here, however obscurely narrated and however set in a context of change and mystery. —I have often wondered where it is all going, still do…so:

The circumstances of life are always changing and truths seem to constantly need restating to maintain their grip, their purchase of truth. Perhaps that is why re-reading is as important as reading. Perhaps that is why, too, that, as Nietzsche said: “every great philosophy so far has been . . . the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir." What Nietzsche says here is but part of the recognition that anything a person says or writes tells us something essential about the speaker or writer. This is a commonplace notion which extends to all areas of discourse. Not only literature but philosophy and science can also be seen as forms of self-expression, types of autobiography. Self-portraiture is very difficult to avoid when you write, indeed when you live and breath and have your being. As soon as readers accept that a literary text expresses, or makes exterior, something within its author, then it becomes inevitable that they will use that text as a key to that interior, that biography, that autobiography. As a man is, so he sees and so he writes.

The activism that has been part of my life over these four epochs has many facets. It is not like a journey to the corner store, not the occasional donation to some organization like amnesty or a save the whale or the tree campaign, or a periodic march in the name of some cause or an endless series of criticisms of government, institutions and prominent people in public, it is a plunge into the dark with a commitment, a commitment for life and with many strings attached. The history of the activism I have been associated with since the 1950s is more like the weather than like checkers or chess or something that ends after an afternoon of protest or a vote in an election after weeks of advertising’s sloganizing and simplifying. Games, elections and protests all end, but the weather you always have with you. At the end of a game, you add up the scores, sort out the winners and losers, close up the board and go on to something else.

But with the social activism in this Cause, one can pause, take a break, pack up your bags and move to another town or even another marriage, but you can never add up the score. It’s part of your mental set until you resign, stop believing in its truth, get converted to some secular or other cause like pessimism, skepticism, nihilism, cynicism, one of the many wasms and isms that occupy people’s minds and hearts and that also can change with the seasons. You can’t tote up the score, close up the board, and go home unless, as I say, you lose your sense of commitment, your sense of belief.

We must acknowledge the darkness of our moment and our world, but we also must realize that the score isn’t in, that it can’t be known. Not ever, not really. We play a part in a process and we must define that process and examine in what way we want to be part of that process. We have to make a wager, to take a leap into the dark, and bet on faith in our cause, hope and commitment to its future and, in the short term, we simply can’t know the consequences of our acts, a point I can not make with enough force. Sure and quick victories, always delightful and always giving you the feeling the fight was worth it, worth living for, are a different genre to defeats.

Defeats are not final and, as Virginia Woolf wrote in her journal eight months into WW1, “The future is dark, which is on the whole, the best thing the future can be, I think.” Dark, she seems to say, she seems to define, as something inscrutable, not as something terrible. We often lose the meaning of darkness as Woolf defines it. People imagine the end of the world is nigh because the future is unimaginable. Who twenty years ago would have pictured a world without the USSR and with the Internet?

I’ll say no more; I post the above in the off-chance it may be of use.-Ron