It follows that we should first acknowledge the tribal pull in us if we are to invite in a more rigorous universality. That may not be realisable or may take longer than we have on Earth. In any case, one way out is not to live for others. That's harder said than done because I am others. They give to me and I give back and I am only nurtured into possible life by others.
To live for others is therefore to live for oneself, but there are times in which one has to break the habit. When despotism rules, one lives solely for oneself as a survival principle. Despotic acts thus teach one independence. The harder life becomes the more one learns the principle of withholding. Eventually one ceases to be what one had been before just at the point that one's tribal affiliations are severed.
After this, nothing matters. One has encountered what Bataille means by "nothing", which is another way to express that one has found that one is prone to active nihilism. Too bad for this awful accident -- but it probably happens to many more folk than we realise. This is a situation where one can stop surviving, but many do go on and make adjustments here or there.
Destruction leads to transformation, a revolting principle. But hardly is destruction ever actively courted. One does one's best with it, but not as a choice. It arrives on one's doorstep and kicks the walls in. Bam. Too bad. Then everybody says it was your fault.
Too bad, again. It's supposed to teach you a lesson -- a lesson that you are a confused person. That's what Bataille said about Nietzsche: "That was one confused MoFo, God bless his heart!" Confusion is great for us because when we no longer care we start to see what there is to get concerned about.
We can whine, whine whine, all we like, but nobody is going to care. This is a recipe for resilience. "Ah, mama, someone kicked in my door and got started knocking down all the walls in the interior." "Don't worry, son, it's just inside your head!"
That's how destruction becomes a principle. Everything in disarray and drinking red wine whilst lamenting that it's not destructive enough AS A PRINCIPLE.
It takes a while to learn your lesson of aloneness, like having John Howard whispering in your crispy ear that climate change is not a destructive force. After a week or two of this, you know because you know, that there is something there to know that only you can figure out. An autocratic authority isn't going to do it for you. Flood waters will take away your home before somebody starts to listen.
Because of your sincerity, you find yourself in contradiction -- in a mode of extreme revolt.
To live for others is therefore to live for oneself, but there are times in which one has to break the habit. When despotism rules, one lives solely for oneself as a survival principle. Despotic acts thus teach one independence. The harder life becomes the more one learns the principle of withholding. Eventually one ceases to be what one had been before just at the point that one's tribal affiliations are severed.
After this, nothing matters. One has encountered what Bataille means by "nothing", which is another way to express that one has found that one is prone to active nihilism. Too bad for this awful accident -- but it probably happens to many more folk than we realise. This is a situation where one can stop surviving, but many do go on and make adjustments here or there.
Destruction leads to transformation, a revolting principle. But hardly is destruction ever actively courted. One does one's best with it, but not as a choice. It arrives on one's doorstep and kicks the walls in. Bam. Too bad. Then everybody says it was your fault.
Too bad, again. It's supposed to teach you a lesson -- a lesson that you are a confused person. That's what Bataille said about Nietzsche: "That was one confused MoFo, God bless his heart!" Confusion is great for us because when we no longer care we start to see what there is to get concerned about.
We can whine, whine whine, all we like, but nobody is going to care. This is a recipe for resilience. "Ah, mama, someone kicked in my door and got started knocking down all the walls in the interior." "Don't worry, son, it's just inside your head!"
That's how destruction becomes a principle. Everything in disarray and drinking red wine whilst lamenting that it's not destructive enough AS A PRINCIPLE.
It takes a while to learn your lesson of aloneness, like having John Howard whispering in your crispy ear that climate change is not a destructive force. After a week or two of this, you know because you know, that there is something there to know that only you can figure out. An autocratic authority isn't going to do it for you. Flood waters will take away your home before somebody starts to listen.
Because of your sincerity, you find yourself in contradiction -- in a mode of extreme revolt.
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