16 April 2014

ahhh, the chaos...

The non-metaphysical sobering is here: that the Real is neither the possible nor the impossible; neither the symbolizable nor the non-symbolizable posited as first, but that it is the cause by immanence which explains the possibility of the symbol without necessarily being symmetrically to assume the Real knowable 
Fran├žois Laruelle (222)

22 March 2014

and we have killed him

"Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God's decomposition? Gods too decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him." - Friedrich Nietzsche, "The Parable of the Madman," Gay Science 

21 December 2011

pause. judiciously...

POZZO:He's stopped crying. (To Estragon.) You have replaced him as it were. (Lyrically.) The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep, somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh. (He laughs.) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors. (Pause.) Let us not speak well of it either. (Pause.) Let us not speak of it at all. (Pause. Judiciously.) It is true the population has increased.
Waiting for Godot. act 1, Samuel Beckett 

16 December 2011

for Hitch - "And therefore it worked for all of us. God Bless Johnnie Walker Black." - Andrew Sullivan

And yet . . . (pause) . . . how is it –this is not boring you I hope– how is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being saved. The four of them were there –or thereabouts– and only one speaks of a thief being saved. (Pause.) Come on, Gogo, return the ball, can't you, once in a way?
(with exaggerated enthusiasm). I find this really most extraordinarily interesting.
One out of four. Of the other three, two don't mention any thieves at all and the third says that both of them abused him.
What's all this about? Abused who?
The Saviour.
Because he wouldn't save them.
From hell?
Imbecile! From death.
I thought you said hell.
From death, from death.
Well what of it?
Then the two of them must have been damned.
And why not?
But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.
Well? They don't agree and that's all there is to it.
But all four were there. And only one speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him rather than the others?
Who believes him?
Everybody. It's the only version they know.
People are bloody ignorant apes.
Waiting for Godot, Act 1, Samuel Beckett

sometimes, the chaos is deafening...

10 December 2011


We call the following sorts of things toward something: all those things said to be just what they are of or than something, or toward something in some other way (any other way whatsoever). Thus, what is larger is said to be what it is than another (it is said to be larger than something); and a double is said to be just what it is of another (it is said to be double of something); similarly with all other such cases.  
(Aristotle, Categories 7, 6a36-6b.)

08 December 2011

we tried to die...

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die 

07 December 2011

the time we cried...

We chased our pleasures here
Dug our treasures there
But can you still recall
The time we cried 

06 December 2011

the future's uncertain...

Well, I woke up this morning, I got myself a beer
Well, I woke up this morning, and I got myself a beer
The future's uncertain, and the end is always near 

05 December 2011

streets are uneven...

People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down 

04 December 2011

you were my queen...

You were my queen and I was your fool,
Riding home after school.
You took me home
To your house.

03 December 2011

This is the strangest life I've ever known...

Waiting for you to come along 
Waiting for you to hear my song 
Waiting for you to come along 
Waiting for you to tell me what went wrong 

This is the strangest life I've ever known 

09 July 2011

the soft parade...

Successful hills are here to stay
Everything must be this way
Gentle streets where people play
Welcome to the Soft Parade

All our lives we sweat and save
Building for a shallow grave
Must be something else we say
Somehow to defend this place
Everything must be this way

Jim Morrison, "The Soft Parade