A troll has written that somehow my writing evoked the idea of a search for meaning. This comment gave me an inroad into the specific way in which the shamanistic project is not understood by any means. To search for meaning implies that meaning is given. Perhaps it is already out there, reading for the taking. But that idea, beloved by those who frequent supermarkets and department stores, is a specific sort of bourgeois madness. One can search and find meaning in the world no more than one can look for and find colour. Colour simply appears. It's far from being an object that one could lay hands upon.
I think this exemplifies what is wrong with many people's lives. They are waiting for the right person or the right situation to come along, but that is no different from a search for meaning. Bataille says it is much more beneficial for a person to be driven to despair than to be sitting around waiting in hope. The teleological drive has to be eliminated. Nobody, right here, is going to give you everything you need and the future does looks bright for those who do not contrive to make it moral or better. The moralists are like those who would tell you color is an object, and that they are busy arranging objects to make them more easily accessible to everyone.
If one should be terrified of anyone it is of those who tell you color is an object that appears to them. Rather consider abandoning all hope. Hope was the last malignancy remaining in Pandora's Box. We relinquish it the most reluctantly, but we would certainly be better without so much longing for the future.
To give up hope is to be. It is to buy space to become. There's so much hopelessness and hoping for salvation. Like Americans stuck on the shores of a deserted island in the reality show, I Shouldn't be Alive, they've prepared for nothing much in advance but being rescued. Civilisation only seems to be all powerful, but it is not, and neither are reason nor rationality.
I fiind it strange that there are those who still persist in thinking that reality is created outside of them. Even what you call evil and what you have experienced as such was just your perspective at the time. Under a different light, it would seem different. When we're vulnerable and can't do anything for ourselves, we resent the active forces that pummel us with their intensities. We become believers in passivity as if it represented goodness in itself. At least it doesn't bombard us with something for which we are poorly prepared. But passivity is not goodness, just a moratorium on living. It guarantees nothing, except maybe the same.
"I want someone to love me just as I am!"
But powerful and aggressive forces have made you just as you are. Your are no more nor less than a product of your historical makers. Who will love you for being something similar to a rock or a piece of wood? You have a face only a mother could love.
The universe is not your mummy. You see where this is going -- it's just getting from bad to worse. You're going to die and just like rocks and stones and anything in the universe, you will be recycled.
There is no meaning.
But behold! There are colours.
You didn't see them before? But they were there all along, before your eyelids!
Ahoy, me hearties! Me Yankee Doodle Dandees!
I think this exemplifies what is wrong with many people's lives. They are waiting for the right person or the right situation to come along, but that is no different from a search for meaning. Bataille says it is much more beneficial for a person to be driven to despair than to be sitting around waiting in hope. The teleological drive has to be eliminated. Nobody, right here, is going to give you everything you need and the future does looks bright for those who do not contrive to make it moral or better. The moralists are like those who would tell you color is an object, and that they are busy arranging objects to make them more easily accessible to everyone.
If one should be terrified of anyone it is of those who tell you color is an object that appears to them. Rather consider abandoning all hope. Hope was the last malignancy remaining in Pandora's Box. We relinquish it the most reluctantly, but we would certainly be better without so much longing for the future.
To give up hope is to be. It is to buy space to become. There's so much hopelessness and hoping for salvation. Like Americans stuck on the shores of a deserted island in the reality show, I Shouldn't be Alive, they've prepared for nothing much in advance but being rescued. Civilisation only seems to be all powerful, but it is not, and neither are reason nor rationality.
I fiind it strange that there are those who still persist in thinking that reality is created outside of them. Even what you call evil and what you have experienced as such was just your perspective at the time. Under a different light, it would seem different. When we're vulnerable and can't do anything for ourselves, we resent the active forces that pummel us with their intensities. We become believers in passivity as if it represented goodness in itself. At least it doesn't bombard us with something for which we are poorly prepared. But passivity is not goodness, just a moratorium on living. It guarantees nothing, except maybe the same.
"I want someone to love me just as I am!"
But powerful and aggressive forces have made you just as you are. Your are no more nor less than a product of your historical makers. Who will love you for being something similar to a rock or a piece of wood? You have a face only a mother could love.
The universe is not your mummy. You see where this is going -- it's just getting from bad to worse. You're going to die and just like rocks and stones and anything in the universe, you will be recycled.
There is no meaning.
But behold! There are colours.
You didn't see them before? But they were there all along, before your eyelids!
Ahoy, me hearties! Me Yankee Doodle Dandees!
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