/lit/ - Literature

>>10331847
>Society should exist to maintain the majority, and permit the highest achievers to excel. To some extent, permitting the great to grow in power would benefit the majority. Let the genius live so that masses might have great art, great innovations, and a great city. This is the difference between the philosopher-king and mere tyranny.
Generally I agree, certainly as real politk - but isn't this a great mundanity? Where is the balance set? Doesn't it mean that the geniuses are forever weighed down?

>The philosopher-king would not worry about tall grains of wheat, as he himself is one, and, if one should be taller, than the philosopher-king would be wise enough to abdicate to the wiser.

Interesting. This reminds me of the Greek ostracism. It also connects with the need for constant competition to drive society - something widely commented on in Athenian society, including by Nietzsche. It's also a bit like the self-sacrificing hanged god in The Golden Bough et al.

>I think this is an incorrect interpretation of Nietzsche, as Nietzsche embraced the Dionysian so that the tyranny of Apollo could end.

I'm not sure I agree with this - Nietzsche's early & end positions (& definitions) on Apollonian/Dionysian change & contradict. I'd need to research & write an essay to answer this!

>I believe he thought both forces should be balanced, but to be balanced he had to become Dionysos himself! So revolution wouldn't necessarily be the right term, for it is not pic related, but rather a scale which totters.

I should have said 'constant re-evaluation' as revolution has negative connotations.

>I think Nietzsche would want us to smash the idols, clear the ground, recognize this ground was holy, and build new temples to new gods - precisely as the Christians converted the Pagan temples to Churches, or Enlightenment France did to Notre Dame.

Let's do it!

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.