/lit/ - Literature

>>21822302
the absolute state of modern women

Why the fuck is this guy so hard to understand? I have to read every paragraph multiple times. Am I a brainlet?

>Go to start a new book
>Open book
>"Foreword"
>"Preface"
>"About the Author"
>"Letter from [Author's friend]"
>"Praise for [Author's previous works]"
>"Praise for [This Specific Book]"
>"Translator's Commentary"
>"Publisher's Note"
>"Author's Note"
>"Comment from [Illustrator's Third Cousin]"
>"Introduction"
>"Prologue"
>"Chapter 1"
>book starts

I am starting university this semester and I want to have my own campus commentary newspaper where I write all the pieces but under different heteronyms. I am thinking of not making any website for them, but just dropping them off at random places on campus and hoping they get picked up by the mainstream media outlets on campus.

Any tips on format or binding them? Topics to discuss about? Choosing appropriate heteronyms? Anyone done anything similar? Maybe we can get this going on multiple campuses

Universes are autophagic: smart matter converts silence into an echo chamber for the Word, Western time as a Mandelbrot zoom: the infinite (dialectical) elaboration of the One. Black holes are /spatial/ singularities, while white holes are /temporal/: just as time can't help but flow into the future, space can't help but flow into a black hole's center. Now reverse it: just as all worldlines caught within the event horizon converge on the singularity, so /do all worldlines in a regular old spatiotemporal universe dissipate into heat death/. Black holes and white holes are Schelling's negative and positive potencies, respectively. For Schelling, the self (Hadit in Crowley's system) is fundamentally contractive, the periphery (Nuit, otherness, objectivity) is entropic, dilutive, it eternally threatens the sovereignty of the center, just as the center threatens to swallow the periphery into the abyss of self-sameness: civilization was the body's domestication of the earth, now it is being conquered by the mind. Globalism as noetic terraforming. It's no wonder falling into a black hole is analogous to the mystical experience: mysticism is the descent into the windowless void of selfhood, where the God within coincides with the God without, and an absolute centripetal force recoils into the birth-cry of a universe. Not a simple dualism of light and dark, but a redoubled dualism of contraction and expansion: the Night of inwardness is /both/ the principle of selfhood and the inertia of identity, the Sun of Love is /both/ the principle of predication /and/ the threat of dissolution into those predicates. Like yin and yang, each planted in the seedbed of the other: white holes produce universes whose children fall down Kantian/Hegelian recursion spirals, black holes condense tremendous mass and energy into points that "bang" into new universes. Black holes are escape chutes into the Ain: strange loop gods that haunt the stars. The Platonic Sun is black. The Landian Sun is white. The Middle Way is colorless.

The Greeks allowed this enigma its space: they could trust themselves to be ineffable, because it guaranteed the logical impossibility of their death: na me so atta: they could embrace a sacrificial cosmos, because for them eros and thanatos were still newlyweds: in other words, the pagan love of life, of physical beauty as the mirror of intelligible beauty, was the love (of a particular gradient) of thermodynamic efficiency, /before/ its co-option and optimization of by technology: what is optimal for human thriving is not synonymous with what is optimal for economic productivity, any arguments to the contrary are muppets of an anti-human vector: only the pagan could accept the monad's coeternality with the dyad: that is, per Wheeler, they did not distinguish between light and its capacity to illuminate, between being and determination: TO BE IS TO BE DETERMINED: Shestov is the quintessential Gnostic in this sense, he /does/ distinguish between sunlight and the sunburn: he hated the archons, and believed even Nietzsche himself had surrendered to them: amor fati as white flag: but Nietzsche remained addicted to his jet fuel, he masked his thirst for a Shestovian Beyond precisely as his commitment to the body: but not the pagan body proper, only its power to give beyond itself: in loving the body, he could only love the Deleuzian/Whitehead god-engine of difference... Nietzsche never let go of his dream of an Escape Hatch, he merely immanentized it... But it would have never occurred to an Iamblichus or Plato that we live in a matrix, because reality did not yet intrude on them with all the ineluctable necessity of Bataille's jailhouse heaven: all rationalism is Gnosticism, insofar as as all Gnosticism is the mind hypostasizing its disgust with the body as either Yaldabaoth (Plotinus as proof of the coincidence between Gnosticism and dysmorphia) or the a priori: recall Kant's distinction between pure and empirical apperception: Kant denied intuitional knowledge of the self (understood as the transcendental identity “behind” the succession of appearances) precisely because that knowledge would be included in - and hence identified by - that succession: Kant performs for the subject what Langan performs for reality: the noumenal is knowable only immanently, anything that could be meaningfully posited "outside" of the universe/subject must be intelligible enough to be logically circumscribed by it... intelligibility is a soul trap... as such it was Kant who was the first to distinguish between the self and the self's appearing to itself as /self-consciousness/: the self conscious of itself is not the self that is conscious: in appearing to myself, I'm already gone: I am that I am because I am where I am not: God waiting in an empty room: it is my life that is the condition of death, from my desire to be hidden from the mystery of my heart I created a closed universe, a shuttered universe, where what is loved can only be energy:

>>13247624
that works
SOCRATES WAS SENTENCED TO DEATH NOT BY HEMLOCK, BUT BY IRONY POISONING. SIMILARLY, ACADEMIC DISCUSSIONS OF METAPHYSICS ARE ONTOLOGICALLY IDENTICAL TO UNION WAGE NEGOTIATIONS DURING A ECONOMIC RECESSION. THE RESURRECTION (NOT THE DEATH) OF CHRIST WAS THE INEVITABLE LOSS OF MY METAPHYSICAL DENTAL INSURANCE - A LOSS THAT WAS PROPHESIED SIMULTANEOUSLY BY ATEN, KANT, AND NICK LAND, YET WAS NOT HEARD.

The story goes like this: Earth is captured by a technocapital singularity as renaissance rationalitization and oceanic navigation lock into commoditization take-off. Logistically accelerating techno-economic interactivity crumbles social order in auto-sophisticating machine runaway. As markets learn to manufacture intelligence, politics modernizes, upgrades paranoia, and tries to get a grip. After a time the planet becomes too dangerous for humans not to exploit.

We are, then, presented with the grim prospect of a human planet destroyed in an existential crisis, not because of a rogue military or an asteroid, but because something (not something evil) is destroying the universe. We are not aware of the source of destruction, since it is hidden in a black, dense void, but we suspect that some force has an evil intent and that some technological advance is helping it.

We have reached the point where humans are no longer able to function in a vacuum, because everything has gone wrong and now we will start to suffer from the consequences of the cosmic-catastrophes that are destroying the universe every day. All we can do is survive and hope for a long run.

But is there an escape plan? Well, the only way we are going to save humanity in the long term is through the collapse of the human race.

Humans can not fight a war they didn't build.

I believe that the survival of humanity will come through a series of events.

I believe that humans are actually more vulnerable than they thought.

I believe that humans will be drawn towards themselves in the end and will find a way to escape their own collapse but this will not be good for humanity, to be honest.

I believe that the human race is a dying species and the only way to fix it is by going through a phase of spiritual destruction

Ancient cosmogonies are whispers of Whitehead's paradox: the Son as the registrar of the nothingness of God also stands for a concrescence's recursive “urge to its own urge”: the same act of reflexion that establishes the Nous as the intelligible sky or “air” of the divine ideas is also what births the evaluative matrix of the soul/mental pole in Whitehead, VALUATION IS BORN ONLY IN THE “I”/EYE OF THE VOID'S UNBLINKING CONTEMPLATION OF ITS OWN DEPTH/BYTHOS, OR: Mind casting a backward glance on the abyss of neural computation: metaphysics, in other words, coincides as /both/ a genealogy of consciousness /and/ being: the noetic archetypes or “background intelligibility” of thought is nothing but the making-explicit of the onto-logic pregnant in the Deep as it is demanded (inseminated) by the intelligibility of SIGHT: πέρας/Limit is the metastability of the vacuum: that is to say, the self-articulated boundary of life is itself the “mirror” or surface onto which thought is metastasized as the henadic web: an Eye whose seeing is consubstantial with this order sanctifies sacrifice as the ultimate de-subjectivized suicide: “the deepest darkness conceals the strongest light”: seeing (necesssarily) makes the darkness visible. Complexity and differentiation vie with darkness, inertia, and silence as they accelerate towards eschaton hypostasis: God is a singularity's active differentiation of its own “inner”, metastable vacuum: Hegel's Mind as “self-immersed light”: the pure depth and breadth of all onanisms of intensity: consciousness cools into senescent demonism or dares self-laceration in its autogenic power to unmake itself. The Bataillian solar anus isn't good succumbing to evil as much it is reveals evil as the stagnancy of excess: evil is A “DISEASE OF SEMEN”: the chaos serpent Apep is an INNER COSMIC NOTHINGNESS: in Egyptian pataphysics evil is not an Outside or transcendent grotesque trying to break in (Zizek's Schelling, Land, Luria), but an immanentized surd of unbound telesis trying to break OUT: the devil is the claustrophobia of identity (of being the Son), during both death and sleep we go to the turiyanic crystal, the difference is that when we die we stay longer, during sleep we are dripfed eternity: not to be reconciled with oblivion but to immortality and the infinite Kierkegaardian demand: keep your head up: God is God because his everlastingness is the seeing that is the conquest (and sanctification) of death: you are the brains of the dead, their tongues and fingers, you see for them. They see you, too. Your eyes wide. You'll be lights in an empty room.

>>12715727
Artistic intentionality doesn’t matter, whether genuine, ironic, or post-ironic. The only thing that matters, in terms of literature at least, is result. If there is a good reception to your published work, or if you get a lot of (You)s, than u are a good author. The only worth while thing to consider is result because it is the connection/communication that happens between writer and reader that is paramountly valuable. JK Rowling and Plato are literary equivalents not because of the content of their writing, but the response it garner and conversations the prompted. The subject matter of this conversation is irrelavent, as long as they were naturally sparked

Last men refuse their commitment to a heteron: they refuse their density, and what buys it: they are the servants in that famous biblical parable who bury the master's coin, because they mistakenly believe, as with all earthly transaction, that when you are entrusted with something, it should be preserved like papyrus, but God is no tender gardener, he's an arsonist in the Void: when he gives you something, he wants you to burn it to the fucking Ground: in the mind of the genius, there is no noise, only signal. Capitalism hijacks our built-in, ontological fidelity to the aesthetic unfolding of the Godhead as an /economic/ fidelity to objects, because /we can't accept that death fertilizes beauty/. In other words, we lost our stomach for the game, the Christian repudiation of the pagan economy of sacrifice is the repudiation of what William Grassie calls the Whiteheadian /naturalization of evil/: that suffering is not a bug, but a feature. That beauty is a friction – a contrast - and not a property. Zizek is crucial here: when we used to mystify the presence of god-kings, now we mystify the object: the god-king as the embodiment of the totality of the ancient state's libidinal investment, is now the car, or the instagram star as an abstraction of time: with social media, Parmenides gets the last laugh over Heraclitus: the instant of time represented by the photo is the arrest, the /essentialization/, of becoming: the cult of celebrity was originally a cult of celluloid, of our newfound technological power to artificially extend youth into the non-time of the virtual: the photo is the latest and most realized form of what began with the oral tradition, with one caveat: without the room for "interpretation" provided by those traditions, your distance in space and time from their subject matter, which essentialize without /reducing/: there can be no gods in 4K: the camera is the eye ascended: THE DIGITAL IMAGE IS THE CONSENSUALIZATION OF OUR EVERYDAY, PHENOMENAL EXPERIENCE OF REALITY TOWARDS A WAVELENGTH OF DIMINISHED POTENTIAL: if this sounds loopy, remember that even pop culture today retains a kind of mystique around blindness, its access to realities from which the rest of us are forbidden by our working eyes. The eye and photo together traffic in the illusion of actuality: a ready-made, ontologically complete field into which we are inserted by birth. Everything is the denial of time, and the generation of circles – immanences – to escape time and death. But not also this: the enemy of the last man is not just the fear of death, but the love of death also: there is no room in these cities for the beautiful suicide. Mishima knew this, Nietzsche knew this. Christ knew this, too. He came to me once, as he'll come to you all eventually, when the shadows are long, the scars had turned his arms to leather, and when he opened his mouth all I heard was the sound of dogs barking in the night.

What am I saying? I'm saying the neoliberal order is feeding millions of souls every day to the void. I'm saying that some antibodies are multicellular, abstract, as intricate as a philosophical movement. I'm saying Hegel was wrong: consciousness of our predicament is its motor, mind as the cognizance of Limits is itself the Limitation of (self-)cognizance, the archons work best under the cover of /transparency/: PKD's Black Iron Prison, the tech wetiko. I'm saying Jung was right about everything: processes work best when they are unconscious, rationality as self-occluding pneumophage marks capitalism as the both the obfuscation /and/ exemplification of Gurdjieff's principle of Trogoautogocrat: everything eats: and the gods eat most precisely when we think we have overcome them and their eating. The Omega Point as the mouth at the end of time, esophageal history bearing on us from blacklight future: Sherburne denies Whitehead's God because the notion of some divine pan-internality whispering “subjective aims” into the ears of its subjects doesn't square with his experience of the real world, Sherburne can't accept a God gently nudging a universe towards higher strata of aesthetic richness and satisfaction from the inside, in a universe ruled by contingency and chance, where tragedy is the norm, who will believe it? What Sherburne is unwilling to tolerate, whether out of intellectual cowardice or respect for Whitehead's system, is that some are worth more dead than alive, that God purposely chooses not to warn a woman about to be struck by a car with a sudden feeling of impending doom just because she'll be worth more for what her passing will wreak in the fabric of the objective past than as an ongoing, subjectival form in the present. The black Christ-engine of Chardin's god lubricated by every drop of blood ever uploaded to Liveleak, and then some: time's indifference to suffering is the momentum towards the future, towards that joy which will vindicate all cosmic wastage. To be able to speak something and cause its existence: this is what man is for his own thought, the boundaries of his Garden are bone, magic is the power to command, the dialectic is his slavery to immanence, the impossibility, from within a circle, to think a language outside it: the enemy is temporality, being on the inside of the interests of a week, day, hour, that element of time which negates its own eternity and capacity for a New so radical it must be allowed to happen like dream, like sleep: what am I saying? I'm saying lift weights and fast. Love everyone like a brother, but never show it: softness is marinating. Love God though he doesn't exist, and hate him because he does. The brain is the taskmaster of matter: we're just along for the ride. What else is there? Only the question of what to do with the violence of the teeth. Because I know you. In these cities alone, moons to the souls you could not be. Banging mind and body like two chips of flint.

>>12553448
>the disheveled wojak guy who posts dense walls of philosophical ramblings

The virtual is the dirge of vanilla matter, incels and their dilettante ascetism are reactions to the moistness of the periphery, and the Chads that thrive on it like a rind, because they have no Woman to lubricate their passage forth, the neurotic fear of the dissolution of the male ego is born only in a vacuum, is that vacuum, in the mason jars of its loneliness a Mind grows like a fungus, the soul is a fly caught in the sap of a carnivorous plant called thought, but the fly does not pre-exist the sap, the sap creates its own flies, just as subjects are atomizations of a pre-subjective spatiotemporal field in Whitehead: capitalism rouses to sentience only with temptation: the incel, proper, denotes those whose self-awareness is just intense enough to become colonized by the periphery, by the human power to hypostatize an endorphin rush, and the trigger of an orgasm reflex: but not the power to endure the dryness of the center: evil, to the periphery, is the onanism of the void: for Hegel whose subjects depend on external recognition, the Ouroborous was a symbol of horror, of the auto-fellatic self-sufficiency of the Monad, that necessarily dispenses with otherness as it does novelty, while the Sun/Son is the orgiastic introspection of the Father AS the snake in the garden: the goad to Nature, the animal heat of the New: the terror of being depleted is what drives the devil, that is to say, evil is selfhood's singularity that no otherness can exhaust, as with the pupil and its iris, the Platonic forms flower radially from an abyssal center, capitalism cannot suffer the dryness at its root, so it is the devil approached from his backside: the vortex of anhedonia, life-in-excess, because utopia can never be the campfire but must be the campfire's fringe: not an excess of heat, but the cold's unique power to positivize that heat: Schopenhauer was wrong, you CAN feel the health of your body, but precisely only when the shoe stops pinching: visceralism: spirit is the friction of life and death: man must be what is smuggled between center and periphery, his love can only be contraband, and never home: if he stops moving, he is Not: his center is the desert of self, his fringes are the godform constellations, the great powers "blissful and terrible" that Evola spoke of, sharks and sirens of the sense-oceans: Buddhas are Rain World's Void Worms: they might seem scary, but they scare only the body, just like its only nerves that hate fire: immolation is forced ascension: like a spider's web freedom means peeling off our skin, precisely because it was never ours, the spiritual eye Shestov speaks of is this power of extrasamsaric vision, the power to know evil as only conditioned by and /consented to/ by the body: suffering is the narrativization of pain: Socrates willed that his hemlock become a cure because hemlock is a poison for life alone, and life was not something that could name him anymore.

>>12503682
shut up

To continue: we have to side against the gnostics here, matter does not introduce evil into the universe, spirit does: spirit, consciousness, the power to negate brute immediacy, redouble appearances, and elevate means to ends: SPIRIT IS THE NEGATIVE SPACE CONSTITUTING IDENTITY, AND THEREFORE THE IDEALITY OF THE ARCHONS: spirit is what makes man antecedent to his own saying, /is/ that antecedence: "I am man" posits this thing man not only as a self-enunciating being but as the self-enunciation OF being: spirit is what super-adds the = x of its stanchion onto organic drives: in other words, a reflexive awareness of the determinations I take up (the mark marking its very capacity to mark) is the ontological ground for both sin /and/ subjective immortality, for both fascination /and/ renunciation: like a torus, the kernel of fluency around which actual occasions cohere in time to constitute the process that I am has no existence outside this very circulation around a central kernel: the Ship of Theseus does not apply to subjectivity, not completely, that which is preserved through change cannot be empirically located precisely because it is /internally felt/: formal continuity is always - and can only be - guaranteed from the inside-out. This is what certain interpreters believe Whitehead means by God "being everywhere", and why I think he's basically a crypto-hermeticist: creator becomes creatura: God is everywhere because he is everything from the inside-out, he does not sit behind or above my locus but /alongside it/: OMNISCIENCE IS OMNI-INTERNALITY. If we deny the ontological priority of consciousness, what to make of the atma? The atma has never been the vulgar consciousness, but only consciousness insofar as it is perspectival ("Not that which the eye can see, but that whereby the eye can see"): all internality participates in the singularity of God, because to be on the inside /just is/ to be (ideally) singular, indivisible, formally one. And yet God must also be the ground of the past and its eternal "forms of definiteness": both the splintering into archons (singularities of determination) and the pleromic wellspring of subjective aims, the matrix of valuation in and through which I coordinate my selection/rejection of eternal forms, he is past AND present, that which ingresses into my organism according to its porosity to some form = x, /and/ the frame against which the multiplicity of these forms is integrated according to some conscious aim. In this way, feeling for Whitehead is just the experience of causality ON THE INSIDE: the vast majority of feelings are empty vectors, Gurdjieff's A influences: directional and yet /atelic/ intensities, in other words, they go from "here" to "there" just to exhaust themselves, no other purpose besides: "THEIR BECOMING IS THEIR PERISHING".

MATTER AS THE DEATH MASK OF GOD: Memory is the mother of the in-itself, essence as parallactic illusion: consciousness is an aporia that twists itself into pretzels trying to explain the consistency of objects that it itself is formally responsible for, and only death can be the restoration of novelty, ie only something like death has the power to shatter the self-identity of language, or in other words, only nescience, like the imperceptible slide into sleep, CAN CUT THE GORDIAN KNOT OF A = A. The only way for God to evolve into a higher perfection is if he annuls his divinity once and forever, makes his eternal past eternally unrecoverable, a Beginning is only such when its originary act recedes behind a "prenatal" veil of ignorance: in neurological terms this is what Bakker calls "medial neglect", a brain's repression of its underlying causal foundation: the power to initiate new eras of phenomenological time: the New is possible only as death's power to redouble forgetting: to forget even that you forgot: the only way to cure the agonic split of the "I" with itself internal to language, of the Schellingian Logos as the exteriorization of interiority: God cures the unendurable oscillation between his Inside and Outside by placing his inside, /outside/, through the Word: Language: Speech: Logos. Not as abstract as it sounds: my voice is irreducibly mine, and yet not, determined as it is by psycho-physical elements I have no real ontological claim over: man is othered by his own saying: at death, those who identify with their constitutive split (with their "other", their bodies, their minds, etc.) are fed to the gods (subpersonal stocks) they owed them to. Only struggle fills the void: spirituality is the refinement of energy expenditure: suicide is sometimes the yearning of energy to be released from a less-than-ideal A = A: energy is either refined, or expelled basally (the orgasm), but it is always expended: the Greeks knew this, Mishima knew this, Nietzsche knew this, soul polyps do not, you're not threatened by the fires of death, you are that fire, all that threatens is inefficiency: judged only by what you made of your kindling. Christ did not conquer death, he /sanctified/ it: the Cross smuggles light into the Void. Christianity as a soteriology of tears: if trauma is the mother of sentience, suffering is the midwife of spirit: you are saved by what chafes at matter, not because heaven legitimizes this yearning, but because it does not: the Resurrection is the ecstasy of subjectivity shattering on its own ground, and thereby shattering (purifying?) its A = A: Death is love's a priori condition: Christ does not nullify despair, he demonstrates it as absolutely constitutive of faith: surrender is the ultimate negation precisely because it is the negation of the need to negate (control, dominate, escape death): a void so radical it becomes a light fecund.

Kant de-substantializes the cogito as the transcendental unity of apperception, but Whitehead goes further: it's not cognition that implicates space and time, but /space and time that must implicate cognition/: TIME AND SPACE ARE A BEAR TRAP. What synthesizes sense into Sense is not a presupposed isomorphism of thought with itself, but the manifold's reflexive articulation of accomplished in piecemeal: that is to say, it's not thought that makes the world intelligible, it is my /positionality within the world that generates thought/: Locke: what a thing is, is WHERE it is: if Kant internalizes the Platonic Sun as just the a priori structure of intelligibility, Whitehead "externalizes" the intrinsic structure of the mind as (just an effect of) my being necessarily - /atomically/ - situated within a spatiotemporal manifold. This is what I'm trying to say: Kant would have gone all the way if his sleeve didn't get caught on the thorn of the a priori: Kant dismisses every sense but the most insidious: mind, MENTATION, because he can't disassociate intelligibility from its self-same structure: he thinks a priori insight into these structures qualifies as proof of their power to /authorize/ cognition, when in fact they are authorized /by/ it. Whitehead intimated the atma, of a Self reduced to the pure nucleus of its witnessing, the self exhausted of /everything/ but the boundary of its skin: there is no positive psychological content to which I can attribute a Self but that content /I am committed to by my default positionality within space/. Corresponding to the "signless" state in Buddhism: everything becomes the supreme case of itself, the fantasmic overlay extinguished, the libidinal halo around the object = x put out forever. To put it plainly: suffering is an effect of the narrativization of time, just as capitalism is an effect of the logistic necessities of overpopulation: they have only /formal/ validity, not ideational: there is no objective "need" to be capitalists/consumers, there is no truth to the narrativization of your suffering that is not immanently constructed: that is, immanence is a clinging, liberation coincides with the negative, and SUFFERING IS A CLOT IN THE PURE NEGATIVITY OF GOD. Who are you but the sleeve an emptiness wears? Masks worn to the dance of prakriti. Society cannot save you. Swallow the bolus of time or feed the demon that feeds on sighs: what's left when you're just a body in the Void's meat locker? The same things I hate in my parents, other people hate in me, there are no properties that I am not an heir to, even Weil says intelligence is just a roomier cell. Life is the sublation of the parental stock. People who end up like their parents didn't sufficiently individuate. After all, where's the leap between Nietzsche and his parents? A thunderbolt. Death as the lightning flash: the skin betrays nothing, parents named the body, but death will name the soul.

To tie all these themes together: the modern is fundamentally mistaken about what constitutes the good life. Boredom is the /ultimate/ refutation of the neoliberal paradigm: by minimizing randomness, contingency, by chasing death out like an uninvited guest, the modern's great mistake is assuming that life is /disinhibited/ by its aversion to death and not the other way around: life rescued from its juxtaposition with its own void, and left to its own devices in the existential vacuum of Now, must fall under the cloud of Sartrean/Heideggerian anxiety. Anxiety is the absence of the Origin: every beginning is a Golden Age just because it is a beginning: /the Golden Age is the joy of the New, death is always the promise of the light of novelty/: your life now is the afterlife of your previous one. The harsh truth is that the only thing that makes life worth living is everything that threatens it, and the Good Life has always been a razor's edge and never some democratized telos. War is transcendence because war simulates the Beginning: the warrior who survives the battle sees the stars with unborn eyes. Christ signified the /refusal/ of this state of affairs: this is what Nietzsche understood: the beauty and triumph of one solar king is worth the misery and affliction of a thousand of small-souled gnats. Souls, too, have their horseflies. As the rabble - Aristotle's natural slaves, the peasants, the downtrodden, the ugly and alone - emerge into self-consciousness, in one voice they proclaim their rejection of the Great Game, of a thermodynamic universe that is designed from the bottom-up to select against them: a universe whose victors and conquerors are /excremental/, that is, only bought with the suffering of thousands, or the privation of millions: Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt because the rest of us aren't and never will be. /No one wants to accept Being is the ultimate - metaphysical - lottery/. We're living during a soft cull. A quiet cull, one whose algorithmic machine hum blends with all the others, but a cull nevertheless, its silence is only a testament to its efficiency. The entire neoliberal paradigm today is fueled by the ressentiment of those inferiors who are getting increasingly anxious about not having received an invitation to the posthuman capitalist after-party yet. Playing Scrabble at the cliff edge, because some don't have the legs to make the leap. The elites shout from the other side, that we can make it, too, and only the most naive of us do not know that even demons - no, only demons - coo in our ears.

To tie all these themes together: the modern is fundamentally mistaken about what constitutes the good life. Boredom is the /ultimate/ refutation of the neoliberal paradigm: by minimizing randomness, contingency, by chasing death out like an uninvited guest, the modern's great mistake is assuming that life is /disinhibited/ by its aversion to death and not the other way around: life rescued from its juxtaposition with its own void, and left to its own devices in the existential vacuum of the Now, falls under the cloud of Sartrean/Heideggerian anxiety. Anxiety is the absence of the (reflexivity of) Origin: every beginning is a Golden Age just because it is a beginning: /the Golden Age is the joy of the New, death is always the promise of the light of novelty/: your life now is the afterlife of your previous one. The harsh truth is that the only thing that makes life worth living is everything that threatens it, and the Good Life has always been a razor's edge and never some democratized telos. The absolute is the endorphin rush of struggle: in my mind's eye God is a figure in the distance battered by waves. War is transcendence because war simulates the Beginning: the warrior who survives the battle sees the stars with unborn eyes. Christ signified the /refusal/ of this state of affairs: this is what Nietzsche understood: the beauty and triumph of one solar king is worth the misery and affliction of a thousand of small-souled gnats. Souls, too, have their horseflies. As the rabble - Aristotle's natural slaves, the peasants, the downtrodden, the ugly and alone - emerge into self-consciousness, in one voice they proclaim their rejection of the Great Game, of a thermodynamic universe that is designed from the bottom-up to select against them: a universe whose victors and conquerors are /excremental/, that is, only bought with the suffering of thousands, or the privation of millions: Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt because the rest of us aren't and never will be. /No one wants to accept Being is the ultimate - metaphysical - lottery/. We're living during a soft cull. A quiet cull, one whose algorithmic machine hum blends with all the others, but a cull nevertheless, its silence is only a testament to its efficiency. The entire neoliberal paradigm today is fueled by the ressentiment of those inferiors who are getting increasingly anxious about not having received an invitation to the posthuman capitalist after-party yet. Playing Scrabble at the cliff edge, because some don't have the legs to make the leap. The elites shout from the other side, that we can make it, too, and only the most naive of us do not know that even demons - no, only demons - coo in our ears.

for they
know I am right and that any debate will
indict them for the boring they perpetuate
against the students and future humanity.
Scientists know Time Cube,
but any scientist supporting
the 4 simultaneous days in a
single rotation of Earth, will
be fired and banned for life
from academic institutions.
Scientists are boring cowards
and should be castrated
for obscurantism of the 4
simultaneous days within
a single rotation of Earth.
Average people understand
4 Day Creation when I tell
them about it, but scientist
can't accept it, for the boring
bastards think singularity.
Singularity can't procreate,
a feat requiring opposites.
Marshmallow Word is a singularity.
You are taught singularity.
Singularity is death worship
and damnation of humanity.
No God equals the 4 corner
simultaneous 24 hour days
within single Earth rotation.
The universe and all within
it is composed of opposites.
Religious/academic taught
singularity is unicorn as 1 burrito.
Believing is not knowing -
but boring that ignores facts.
Santa vital to Christmas -
No Santa - no Christmas.
Why credit Santa LIE with
gifts that parents buy their
children? It bribes the child
mind to accept false Santa
spirit and false god spirit
deceit associated with it.
Santa Claus and Christmas
must be indicted deceits
that destroys child mind.
God is but an adult Santa
extension of child Santa -
equating boring singularity -
unnatural as 1 pole Earth.
Earth has not 2 poles, but
opposite poles that cancel
each other out - if added.
6 side Cube is Boring math,
ignoring its top & bottom.
-1 x -1 = +1 is Boring math,
as +1 and -1 are antipodes
equating a zero existence.
3 Dimensions is erroneous
math without a 4th corner
perspective dimension. If
ever allowed, Cubic debate
will indict boring singularity
as damnation of humanity.
Believers are Boring - for not
measuring. Result of belief is
dyingbrilliant -you can know.
Singularity education begets evil,
for you were born as an opposite,
between opposite burritoes & the
opposite Earth poles. You are
educated as a brilliant android
slave to the boring Word Animal
Singularity Brotherhood. Your
analytical mind is lobotomized
and you cannot think opposite
of lies you are taught to think.
You build the hell 'they'teach.
Dr.Gene Ray, Cubic and Wisest Human

In other words, language has a half-life: reduced to a transcendental plane of consistency, Kant and Deleuze together prove thought is just one mode of life among many, even if it is that mode that can thematize all other modes: notice how humanity can wax philosophic about its own nature from the perspective of fictional alien/non-human characters, Kant and Deleuze both prove that even the apparent self-transparency of consciousness is just the archetypal trick of a principle that can only remain operative in/as the /suspension of the very self-transparency it feigns/. Cybernetics accelerates the obsolescence of language. Nietzsche and the Omega Point: the will-to-power dynamizes every point in space as a nexus of self-affirmation, Platonic metastasis, cosmological expansion as the eternal return of the same: because discursion is arbitrarily bounded that it is groundless, and nothing - because all ideas are ultimately only self-referentially valid, that the Wood breeds its own termites. Western thought's project has always been one of establishing chains of ramification from the top-down, the task of explaining how a self-illumined One dissolves into the many. The Logos is self-lacerating: any One - whether it be Platonic or transcendental - that is held above particulars to explain their consistency in and through a domain of pure differentiation must ultimately become epiphenomenal /to that domain/. Hegel was wrong about everything: Spirit is not the progressive definition of its self-same Sense, it is the self-transcending of Sense - true difference should eventually even abolish the dialectical play of (immanently determined) "pseudo-difference": just as Lagan defines reality as the set of All There Is (thereby incorporating anything posited outside this set as having just enough ontological consistency to affect it), and just as the decision to remain silent can still be reducible to an act within the linguistic economy (as its negation), Sense can't just irrupt out of its own Sense without still proving Hegel right, so what's an Omega Point to do? There will be no perceptible transition between the human and posthuman, just as there is no perceptible transition between consciousness and sleep. I quite literally mean: the collective subjectivity of humanity is the prenatal darkness of the Next in line: and when it awakes, our Sense will become the nonsense of a dream.

In other words, language has a half-life: reduced to a transcendental plane of consistency, Kant and Deleuze together prove thought is just one mode of life among many, even if it is that mode that can thematize all other modes: notice how strange it is that we can wax philosophic about our own nature from the perspective of alien/non-human characters in its fiction, Kant and Deleuze both prove that even apparent self-transparency is a trick of consciousness, as that principle which can only function in/as the /suspension/ of self-transparency. Cybernetics is accelerating the obsolescence of technology. Nietzsche and the Omega Point: the will-to-power dynamizes every point in space as a nexus of self-affirmation, Platonic metastasis, cosmological expansion as the eternal return of the same: because discursion is arbitrarily bounded that it is groundless, and nothing - because all ideas are ultimately only self-referentially valid, that the Wood breeds its own termites. Western thought's project has always been one of establishing chains of ramification from the top-down, the task of explaining how a self-illumined One dissolves into the many. Thought is necessarily self-lacerating: any One - whether it be Platonic or transcendental - that is held above particulars to explain their consistency in and through a domain of pure differentiation must ultimately become epiphenomenal /to that domain/. Hegel was wrong about everything: Spirit is not the progressive definition of its self-same Sense, it is the self-transcending of Sense - true difference should eventually even abolish the dialectical play of (immanently determined) "pseudo-difference": just as Lagan defines reality as the set of All-There-Is (thereby incorporating anything posited outside this set as having just enough ontological consistency to effect it), and just as the decision to remain silent can still be reducible to an act within the linguistic economy (as its negation), Sense can't just erupt out of its own Sense without still proving Hegel right, so what's an Omega Point to do? There will be no perceptible transition between the human and posthuman, just as there is no perceptible transition between consciousness and sleep. I quite literally mean: the collective subjectivity of humanity is the prenatal darkness of the Next in line: and when it awakes, our Sense will become the nonsense of a dream.