I have been in constant danger of indulging in a moral, ranting tone when I am overwhelmed suddenly by an urge to teach reverence. Generally, because I've noticed it was missing. I now realize that reverence cannot be taught. It's akin to having or not having class. Maybe I have it? Who knows? There's no common measure, just affinities between people, along some degree of mental registration that some things are sometimes mismatched.
If one has enough reverence, one probably will not stay within Western philosophy. The mass debates that occur there grow tiresome. Once your brain has developed certain etched grooves, there's no need to keep researching. In any case, as reverence leads you higher, the mind shatters. Not to worry. Nietzsche and the horsie in Turin got along just fine.
I used to place myself within philosophy for the lesson of being embodied by my words and needs. I had felt in risk of otherwise becoming invisible to myself. Nowadays I notice that few people operate with perceptions, but rather with habits of thought.
To be blind, not to see for a while, would probably be helpful. Shamanic drugs that cloud the mind give this sort of reprieve, although all my breakthroughs came by exposure to violence. That violence and I have some affinity was a fortuity. I encountered other people's rage, but it was best this way, as it taught me not to hide from the dimensions of life that make it more complex. The shamanic figure straddles those aspects of life that are normally firmly separated in our minds: peace and war, male and female, reality and fiction. "I am against war and those against war," says Dambudzo. That the shattering of the philosophical mind is also the reuniting of the separated parts is a mystery reserved for a few. I say this not because I'm one of the few and am arrogant, but because most people recoil from the limits.
To reach the limits means shattering one's being. Perhaps it's not anticipated as desirable, as in the case of Nietzsche, but for Bataille, Nietzsche's madness was a sign that he had throught himself beyond philosophy. The only way to go then is the vertiginous route. Downward.
Ok, but that's the reward for reaching the limit. It leads to, as Bataille, says, satisfaction.
No longer am I keen to get others to agree with me. They can agree with themselves and that is satisfactory. I've seen what's at the limits and if they still want to assert their views that men are radically different from women or that there is no war in peace or peace in war, I'll leave them to their business.
You think identity politics is the answer? That black and white are so different? I've noticed otherwise. And I've noticed a lot of mislabelling and confusion.
I rest my case.
If one has enough reverence, one probably will not stay within Western philosophy. The mass debates that occur there grow tiresome. Once your brain has developed certain etched grooves, there's no need to keep researching. In any case, as reverence leads you higher, the mind shatters. Not to worry. Nietzsche and the horsie in Turin got along just fine.
I used to place myself within philosophy for the lesson of being embodied by my words and needs. I had felt in risk of otherwise becoming invisible to myself. Nowadays I notice that few people operate with perceptions, but rather with habits of thought.
To be blind, not to see for a while, would probably be helpful. Shamanic drugs that cloud the mind give this sort of reprieve, although all my breakthroughs came by exposure to violence. That violence and I have some affinity was a fortuity. I encountered other people's rage, but it was best this way, as it taught me not to hide from the dimensions of life that make it more complex. The shamanic figure straddles those aspects of life that are normally firmly separated in our minds: peace and war, male and female, reality and fiction. "I am against war and those against war," says Dambudzo. That the shattering of the philosophical mind is also the reuniting of the separated parts is a mystery reserved for a few. I say this not because I'm one of the few and am arrogant, but because most people recoil from the limits.
To reach the limits means shattering one's being. Perhaps it's not anticipated as desirable, as in the case of Nietzsche, but for Bataille, Nietzsche's madness was a sign that he had throught himself beyond philosophy. The only way to go then is the vertiginous route. Downward.
Ok, but that's the reward for reaching the limit. It leads to, as Bataille, says, satisfaction.
No longer am I keen to get others to agree with me. They can agree with themselves and that is satisfactory. I've seen what's at the limits and if they still want to assert their views that men are radically different from women or that there is no war in peace or peace in war, I'll leave them to their business.
You think identity politics is the answer? That black and white are so different? I've noticed otherwise. And I've noticed a lot of mislabelling and confusion.
I rest my case.
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