a thread for mundane ironists

This is the place to shave off that long white beard and stop being philosophical; a forum for members to just talk like normal human beings.

Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 19, 2018 4:54 pm

John Dewey

The only way to abolish war is to make peace seem heroic.


Let's run this by the military industrial complex.

The educational process has no end beyond itself; it is its own end.

Let's run this by the ruling class.

Arriving at one goal is the starting point to another.

If not axiomatically.

Anyone who has begun to think, places some portion of the world in jeopardy.

Indeed, imagine my thoughts getting around.

Forty years spent in wandering in a wilderness like that of the present is not a sad fate--unless one attempts to make himself believe that the wilderness is after all itself the promised land.

At 40, some are just getting started.

I feel the gods are pretty dead, though I suppose I ought to know that however, to be somewhat more philosophical in the matter, if atheism means simply not being a theist, then of course I'm an atheist.

At least until the day we die. Then, come on, all bets are off.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 19, 2018 7:02 pm

tiny nietzsche

I fought the ocean and the ocean won


Imagine then fighting the whole fucking universe.

If i could afford to be a loner, i wouldn't talk to anybody.

Unless you count posts here.

do you believe in tragic?

Oh yeah.

out on the road today, I saw a catcher in the rye sticker on a cadillac. a little voice inside my head said "phonies"

Apologies to Don Henley.

have you tried explaining yourself to yourself?

Better me than you.

a mystery that murders the reader

Let's take this one to Creative Writing.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 19, 2018 11:15 pm

C.G. Jung

The life that I could still live, I should live, and the thoughts that I could still think, I should think.


And then one day it dawns on you: You almost certainly won't.

What is essential in a work of art is that it should rise far above the realm of personal life and speak from the spirit and heart of the poet as man to the spirit and heart of mankind.

Yet another intrguing observation that can mean almost anything.

In the interview, he gave an example of a man who falls head over heels in love, then later in life regrets his blind choice as he finds that he has married his own anima–the unconscious idea of the feminine in his mind, rather than the woman herself.

Don't you just hate that?

have never since entirely freed myself of the impression that this life is a segment of existence which is enacted in a three-dimensional boxlike universe especially set up for it.

God willing, he's right.

The greatest and most important problems of life are all in a certain sense insoluble. They can never be solved, but only outgrown….

Eventually forever and ever.

Fanaticism is always a sign of repressed doubt.

Really repressed, right Mr. Objectivist?
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Fri Apr 20, 2018 7:06 pm

T.S. Eliot

time past and time future
what might have been and what has been
point to one end, which is always present


I don't doubt it.

Only through time time is conquered

That and with the space to do it.

We are being made aware that the organization of society on the principle of private profit, as well as public destruction, is leading both to the deformation of humanity by unregulated industrialism, and to the exhaustion of natural resources, and that a good deal of our material progress is a progress for which succeeding generations may have to pay dearly.

And this guy died over 50 years ago.

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other
Who think the same thoughts without need of speech


Wow, does that take me back.

We must learn to suffer more.

You can't help but wonder: What prompted that?

The historical sense involves a perception, not only of the pastness of the past, but of its presence

Of course few of us will ever stop there.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Fri Apr 20, 2018 7:40 pm

so sad today

wouldn't say i have a death wish but i don't have a life wish either


Unless of course she's faking it.

hope i don't get reincarnated

Seriously though, would you if you could?

honk if you're sick of your own bullshit

Let's face it, for some, there's not a horn big enough.

i don't care if you don't love me just love me

Ever been this desperate yourself?

no, i can't just accept myself as i am

On the other hand, try getting around it.

can't tell if I'm dead

A little help here.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Fri Apr 20, 2018 11:15 pm

Meg Wolitzer

People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.


Let's explain that. Providing of course it's true.

She recognized that that is how friendships begin: one person reveals a moment of strangeness, and the other person decides just to listen and not exploit it.

Trust me: Not counting my strangeness.

And didn't it always go like that--body parts not lining up the way you wanted them to, all of it a little bit off, as if the world itself were an animated sequence of longing and envy and self-hatred and grandiosity and failure and success, a strange and endless cartoon loop that you couldn't stop watching, because, despite all you knew by now, it was still so interesting.

Even fascinating from time to time.

I always thought it was the saddest and most devastating ending. How you could have these enormous dreams that never get met. How without knowing it you could just make yourself smaller over time. I don't want that to happen to me.

On the other hand, anyone here that hasn't happened to?

But clearly life took people and shook them around until finally they were unrecognizable even to those who had once known them well.

Obviously some more than others.

Part of the beauty of love was that you didn’t need to explain it to anyone else. You could refuse to explain. With love, apparently you didn’t necessarily feel the need to explain anything at all.

Stumbling about blindly as it were.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Sat Apr 21, 2018 7:56 pm

Kurt Cobain

We have no right to express an opinion until we know all of the answers.


On the other hand, try and stop them.

Please read my diary, look through my things and figure me out.

I suspect that no one ever did.

I feel compelled to say fuck you fuck you to those of you who have absolutely no regard for me as a person. You have raped me harder than you’ll ever know. So again I say fuck you although this phrase has totally lost its meaning. Fuck You! Fuck You!

And that's just Courtney, he said in jest.

It's okay to eat fish because they don't have any feelings.

Plants too.

This song is dedicated to Frank Zappa, and River Phoenix, Fred Gwynne who played Herman Munster, Dixie Lee Ray, Thomas P, Tip O'Neil, and you, dumb ass, who just threw water on me.

Anyone know which song that was?

Hi, my name is Kurt Cobain, I'm homosexual, I'm a pagan, I'm a drug abuser, and I like to fuck pot-bellied pigs!

Maybe, but he still pulled the trigger. Or so they say.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Sat Apr 21, 2018 10:55 pm

so sad today

it's important to give up on everything first thing in the morning


Or, sure, pace yourself.

when you see the emptiness in everything i'll be here for you

Probably shouldn't count on me though.

thought about asking this guy on the street if he wanted to fuck but then didn’t

He wondered: Was it me?

help me not be myself

And what might that be?

one thing i don't like is the way things are

My advice? Don't underestimate that.

things i fear:
the unknown
the known


Me too, but not in that order.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Sat Apr 21, 2018 11:28 pm

Tom Stoppard

A man speaking sense to himself is no madder than a man speaking nonsense not to himself.


Ain't that not the truth?

When you stir your rice pudding, Septimus, the spoonful of jam spreads itself round making red trails like the picture of a meteor in my astronomical atlas. But if you stir backwards, the jam will not come together again. Indeed, the pudding does not notice and continues to turn pink just as before. Do you think this is odd?

First, of course, is this true?

Comparing what we're looking for misses the point. It's wanting to know that makes us matter. Otherwise we're going out the way we came in. That's why you can't believe in the afterlife, Valentine. Believe in the after, by all means, but not the life. Believe in God, the soul, the spirit, the infinite, believe in angels if you like, but not in the great celestial get-together for an exchange of views. If the answers are in the back of the book I can wait, but what a drag. Better to struggle on knowing that failure is final.

So, can you live with that?

Uncertainty is the normal state.

But how certain can we be of that?

Faith may be defined briefly as an illogical belief in the occurrence of the improbable.

Let's cite the most obvious examples.

You can't treat royalty like people with normal perverted desires.

Does anyone here still do?
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Sun Apr 22, 2018 6:58 pm

D.H. Lawrence

When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in.


A metaphor for something obviously.

If only there weren't so many other people in the world, he said lugubriously.

Lugubriously indeed.

Whatever life may be, and whatever horror men have made of it, the world is a lovely place, a magic place, something to marvel over. The world is an amazing place.

Comforting, isn't it?

And so the house came to be haunted by the unspoken phrase: There must be more money! There must be more money! The children could hear it all the time though nobody said it aloud. They heard it at Christmas, when the expensive and splendid toys filled the nursery. Behind the shining modern rocking-horse, behind the smart doll's house, a voice would start whispering: There must be more money! There must be more money! And the children would stop playing, to listen for a moment. They would look into each other's eyes, to see if they had all heard. And each one saw in the eyes of the other two that they too had heard. There must be more money! There must be more money!

Cue [among other things] Trumpworld.

A man could no longer be private and withdrawn. The world allows no hermits.

So, how did I pull it off, he wondered.

It was the talk that mattered supremely: the impassioned exchange of talk. Love was only a minor accompaniment.

For some, the perfect relationship.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Sun Apr 22, 2018 11:48 pm

Svetlana Alexievich

Well, I admit it. I had the greatest respect for the Afghan people, even while I was shooting and killing them. I still do. You could even say I love them. I like their songs and prayers, as peaceful and timeless as their mountains.


Human all too human indeed.

The only righteous thing on the face of the earth is death. No one has ever bribed their way out of that. The earth takes us all: the good, the evil and the sinners. And that's all the justice you'll find in this world.

This either comforts you or it doesn't.

Let time be the judge. Time is just, but only in the long term—not in the short term. The time we won’t live to see, which will be free of our prejudices.

Perhaps a bit too philosophical?

Pretty soon, I'll be decomposing into phosphorous, calcium, and so on. Who else will you find to tell you the truth? All that's left are the archives. Pieces of paper. And the truth is... I worked at an archive myself, I can tell you first hand: paper lies even more than people do.

On the other hand, where do people end and the pieces of paper begin?

In five years, everything can change in Russia, but in two hundred—nothing. Boundless.

Doesn't work that way at all here, does it?

Women’s war has its own colors, its own smells, its own lighting, and its own range of feelings. Its own words. There are no heroes and incredible feats, there are simply people who are busy doing inhumanly human things.

We really are doomed then.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Mon Apr 23, 2018 4:29 pm

Robert Musil

An impractical man--which he not only seems to be, but really is--will always be unreliable and unpredictable in his dealings with others. He will engage in actions that mean something else to him than to others, but he is at peace with himself about everything as long as he can make it all come together in a fine idea.


Anyone else live in their own little world?

...love must be regarded as one of the religious and dangerous experiences, because it lifts people out of the arms of reason and sets them afloat with no ground under their feet.

On the other hand, there are not many strong emotions that isn't applicable to.

In earlier times, one had an easier conscience about being a person than one does today. People were like cornstalks in a field, probably more violently tossed back and forth by God, hail, fire, pestilence, and war than they are today, but as a whole, as a city, a region, a field, and as to what personal movement was left to the individual stalk – all this was clearly defined and could be answered for. But today responsibility’s center of gravity is not in people but in circumstances.

Dasein on steroids.

His answers were quite often like that. When she spoke of beauty, he spoke of the fatty tissue supporting the epidermis. When she mentioned love, he responded with the statistical curve that indicates the automatic rise and fall in the annual birthrate. When she spoke of the great figures in art, he traced the chain of borrowings that links these figures to one another.

Let's just say that in this world there will always be room for both.

In her misery she read a great deal, and discovered that she had lost something she had previously not really known she had: a soul.
What’s that? It is easy to define negatively: it is simply that which sneaks off at the mention of algebraic series.


Does that clear things up for you?

Anyone who still wants to experience fairytales these days can’t afford to dither when it comes to using their brains.

You tell me.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Mon Apr 23, 2018 8:02 pm

God

Retweet this and you can kill a guy.


Maybe next time.

Mark Zuckerberg is one of the last people you should trust, and I mean that both literally and alphabetically.

God being clever.

Only one species on Earth is so arrogantly alienated from its ecosystem it has to set aside a day just to reluctantly acknowledge it lives on a planet.

And it ain't cats and dogs.

The Marvel Universe is way cooler than mine.

So, is that saying much?

The Syria strikes are a direct response to the devastating and unprecedented attack on Monday that left hundreds of Michael Cohen’s records seized.

Well, He is omniscient.

Reality was a bad idea.

Like it just dawned on Him.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Mon Apr 23, 2018 11:24 pm

Herta Müller

All of that piles on you so that, sooner or later, you cannot bear it anymore. And in that situation I started to write, because there was no other ways for me to express, except through the vicious cycle of words.


Is that grim or what?

Hey, not while I'm at my devotions, not so fast, the fat man said, inside the shithouse you're communing with God, and outside you find that all hell's broken loose.

Is that grim or what?

We laughed a lot, to hide it from each other. But fear always finds an out. If you control your face, it slips into your voice. If you manage to keep a grip on your face and your voice, as if they were dead wood, it will slip out through your fingers. It will pass through your skin and lie there. You can see it lying around on objects close by.

It's right around the corner now.

Nothing had anything to do with me. I was locked up inside myself and evicted from myself. I didn’t belong to them and I was missing me.

Is that right around the corner too?

Boredom is fear's patience. Fear doesn't want to exaggerate. Only on occasion--and fear considers this very important--does it want to know how things stand with me.

Or something like that.

The gym instructor was the first to raise his hand. All the other hands flew up after his. While raising their hands, everybody looked at the raised hands of the others. If someone's own hand wasn't as high as the others', he would stretch his arms a little farther. People kept their hands up until their fingers grew tired and started to droop and their elbows began to feel heavy and pull downward. Everyone looked around, and since no one else's arm was lowered, they straightened their fingers again and extended their elbows. Sweat stains showed under the arms; shirts and blouses came untucked. Necks were stretched, ears turned red, lips parted and stayed half-open. Heads kept still, while eyes slid from side to side.

Been there, done that?
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Tue Apr 24, 2018 4:19 pm

Jane Smiley

Do you think I would want to live under a government that you ran or set up? It’s all very nice to say you’re an anarchist, but you only want anarchy for yourself. For the rest of us, you want to make sure we do what you say, think how you think, and remember you’re the boss.


Remember when Joker was an anarchist? :wink:

In my experience, there is only one motivation, and that is desire. No reasons or principle contain it or stand against it.

Can things get any grimmer?

I had a burden lift off me that I hadn't even felt the heaviness of until then, and it was the burden of having to wait and see what was going to happen.

For better or worse of course.

I am thirty-five years old, and it seems to me that I have reached the age of grief. Others arrive there sooner. Almost no one arrives much later. I don't think it is the years themselves, or the disintegration of the body. Most of our bodies are better taken care of and better looking than ever. What it is, is what we know, now that in spite of ourselves we have stopped to think about it. It is not only that we know that love ends, children are stolen, parents die feeling that their lives have been meaningless. It is not only that, by this time, a lot of acquaintances and friends have died and all the others are getting ready to sooner or later. It is more that the barriers between the circumstances of oneself and the rest of the world have broken down, after all - after all that schooling, all that care. Lord, if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me. But when you are thirty-three, or thirty-five, the cup must come around, cannot pass from you, and it is the same cup of pain that every mortal drinks from.

But not you, right?

I looked at her without replying. For me it had been more like being a passenger in a car that was going out of control. For three months we’d been swerving across the road, missing light poles and oncoming vehicles. Now the car was under control again.

Actually, three minutes is more than enough for some.

Still others reflected on how quickly the food could be snatched from a man's table, or the child from a woman's breast, or the wife from a man's bedcloset, that no strength of grasp could hold these goods in place. And others remarked to themselves how sweet these goods were, in spite of that, and saw that pleasure lost in every moment is pleasure lost forever.

That just about sums it all up.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Tue Apr 24, 2018 7:40 pm

Jan Miesizkowski

English lit: History is a dream
Irish lit: History is a nightmare
French lit: I have insomnia
American lit: I have sleep apnea


It's always possible I suppose that this makes sense.

French romance: You stole my soul!
British romance: You stole my inheritance!
German romance: You stole my will to power!
American romance: Can I borrow your car?


It's always possible I suppose that this doesn't make sense.

Greek philosophy: My questions are rigorous
French philosophy: My methods are rigorous
German philosophy: My system is rigorous
American philosophy: I'm pretty sure rigor mortis is about to set in


If only analytically.

Logic: It’s wrong or it’s right
Epistemology: You’re wrong, I’m right
Aesthetics: We can be wrong and right
Politics: Everything is wrong—I hope that’s all right!


In other words, it better be.

Philosophy: Who's your father?
Psychology: Who's your mother?
Economics: Who's your bookie?
Politics: Who's your dealer?


Either that or your investment banker.

Ontology: I don't understand the meaning of the being of beings
Ethics: I don't understand the universal singularity of the moral law
Politics: I don't understand anything but I never let that get in my way


Let's run this one by Don Trump.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Tue Apr 24, 2018 11:15 pm

Max Tegmark

The Matrix, Agent Smith (an AI) articulates this sentiment: "Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You are a plague and we are the cure".


Let's just hope it is all only as it ever could have been.

If consciousness is the way that information feels when it’s processed in certain ways, then it must be substrate-independent; it’s only the structure of the information processing that matters, not the structure of the matter doing the information processing. In other words, consciousness is substrate-independent twice over!

If only at times sub-consciously.

Other big questions tackled by ancient cultures are at least as radical. What is real? Is there more to reality than meets the eye? Yes! was Plato's answer over two millennia ago. In his famous cave analogy, he likened us to people who'd lived their entire lives shacked in a cave, facing a blank wall, watching the shadows cast by things passing behind them, and eventually coming to mistakenly believe that these shadows were the full reality. Plato argued that what we humans call our everyday reality is similarly just a limited and distorted representation of the true reality, and that we must free ourselves from our mental shackles to comprehending it.

Okay, but let's bring this cave down to earth.

The various approximations that constitute our current physics theories are successful because simple mathematical structures can provide good approximations of how a self-aware substructure will perceive more complex mathematical structures. In other words, our successful theories are not mathematics approximating physics, but mathematics approximating mathematics!

Where's James S. Saint when you need him?!

Generations of physicists and chemists have studied what happens when you group together vast numbers of atoms, finding that their collective behavior depends on the pattern in which they're arranged: the key difference between a solid, a liquid and a gas lies not in the types of atoms, but in their arrangement. My guess is that we'll one day understand consciousness as yet another phase of matter. I'd expect there to be many types of consciousness just as there are many types of liquids, but in both cases, they share certain characteristic traits that we can aim to understand.

And this explains what exactly?

Some key physical entities such as empty space, elementary particles and the wave function appear to be purely mathematical in the sense that their only intrinsic properties are mathematical properties.

And this explains what exactly?
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Wed Apr 25, 2018 5:21 pm

Lee Smolin

The mind calls out for a third theory to unify all of physics, and for a simple reason. Nature is in an obvious sense "unified." The universe we find ourselves in is interconnected, in that everything interacts with everything else. There is no way we can have two theories of nature covering different phenomena, as if one had nothing to do with the other. Any claim for a final theory must be a complete theory of nature. It must encompass all we know. Physics has survived a long time without that unified theory. The reason is that, as far as experiment is concerned, we have been able to divide the world into two realms. In the atomic realm, where quantum physics reigns, we can usually ignore gravity. We can treat space and time much as Newton did-as an unchanging background. The other realm is that of gravitation and cosmology. In that world, we can often ignore quantum phenomena. But this cannot be anything other than a temporary, provisional solution. To go beyond it is the first great unsolved problem in theoretical physics.


Let's pin down dasein here.

Problem 1: Combine general relativity and quantum theory into a single theory that can claim to be the complete theory of nature. This is called the problem of quantum gravity.

Problem 2: understanding what the hell that means.

Newton’s concept of space was the opposite, for he understood space to be absolute. This means atoms are defined by where they are in space but space is in no way affected by the motion of atoms. In a relational world, there are no such asymmetries. Things are defined by their relationships. Individuals exist, and they may be partly autonomous, but their possibilities are determined by the network of relationships. Individuals encounter and perceive one another through the links that connect them within the network, and the networks are dynamic and ever evolving.

Come on, at least try to understand the implications of that.

We live in a world in which it is impossible to anticipate most of the contingencies that will arise. Neither the political context, nor the inventions, nor the fashions, nor the weather, nor the climate are precisely specifiable in advance. There is, in the real world, no possibility of working with an abstract space of all the contingencies that may evolve. To do real economics, without mythological elements, we need a theoretical framework in which time is real and the future is not specifiable in advance, even in principle. It is only in such a theoretical context that the full scope of our power to construct our future can make sense.

Come on, at least try to understand the implications of that.

On a personal level, to think in time is to accept the uncertainty of life as the necessary price of being alive. To rebel against the precariousness of life, to reject uncertainty, to adopt a zero tolerance to risk, to imagine that life can be organized to completely eliminate danger, is to think outside time. To be human is to live suspended between danger and opportunity.

Between abysses as it were.

General relativity has a problem with infinities because inside a black hole the density of matter and the strength of the gravitational field quickly become infinite. That appears to have also been the case very early in the history of the universe-at least, if we trust general relativity to describe its infancy. At the point at which the density becomes infinite , the equations of general relativity break down. Some people interpret this as time stopping, but a more sober view is that the theory is just inadequate. For a long time, wise people have speculated that it is inadequate because the effects of quantum physics have been neglected.

What do you say we just take his word for it.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Wed Apr 25, 2018 6:48 pm

Existential Comics

Ah yes, "the wisdom of the crowd", often known by its more common name, "stupidity".


No, not just Trumpworld.

Lucy Lawless should have just been in every movie. Whenever I watch a movie without Lucy Lawless in it, I always think to myself: "man, fuck this movie."

I had to Google the name. No, really.

I do not, and will not, associate with anyone who believes that the guys who escaped from Alcatraz drowned in the bay. They survived.

God damn right they did!

What people like Sam Harris don't like about Trump is that he makes xenophobia, racism, and imperialism associated with stupidity and crass populism. This is bad for Harris because he has worked his entire life trying to give those things a respectable veneer.

Is it really okay to go that far?

Republican: "We need to bomb these savages back to the Stone Age!"
Democrat: "Look, we obviously need to bomb a lot of savages, but I don't particularly care for how you phrased it."


Let's file this one under, "close enough".

There are three kind of skeptics:
1. Scientific skeptics, who are skeptical of bigfoot, ghosts, and psychics.
2. Philosophical skeptics, who are skeptical of the external world, and the senses.
3. Literary skeptics, who are skeptical that there ever even was a "Moby Dick" whale.


Let alone a Bartleby the scrivener.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Wed Apr 25, 2018 11:11 pm

Neil Gaiman

You're alive, that means you have infinite potential. You can do anything, make anything, dream anything. If you change the world, the world will change.


Not many things are more preposterous than this.

There's a magic you take from death. Something leaves the world, something else comes into it.

Abracadabra?

There are stories that are true, in which each individual's tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it to deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope. This is how we walk and talk and function, day in, day out, immune to others' pain and loss. If it were to touch us it would cripple us or make saints of us; but, for the most part, it does not touch us. We cannot allow it to.

Amen to that. Or something approximating it.

Crowley had been extremely impressed with the warranties offered by the computer industry, and had in fact sent a bundle Below to the department that drew up the Immortal Soul agreements, with a yellow memo form attached just saying: "Learn, guys.”

Did they? Well, we'll know when we get there.

Talk is free but the wise man chooses when to spend his words.

Some talk is free. Some men are wise.

It is sometimes a mistake to climb. It is always a mistake to never make the attempt.

Spot the flaw yet?
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 26, 2018 4:54 pm

Edgar Allan Poe

In our endeavors to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember.


But [as likely as not] only if we're lucky.

...the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long and final scream of despair.

Let's just say I'm working on it.

True! - nervous - very, very nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad?

Well, for one thing, wouldn't you be better off?

A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.

Or triply dead if she had everything to live for.

The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls...

Not only that but even if you don't have one.

The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon the mountain-tops where she is found.

Talk about disorienting...
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 26, 2018 7:21 pm

Existential Comics

Welcome to anarchist club. The first rule is that there are no rules. The second rule is that there are no rules. And now to business: half of you have clearly broken the rules, and are not real anarchists, so you have to leave.


And then all hell broke loose.

It's Friday, my friends, time to cast off the values of our ancestors and remake the world in our image.

Works for Thursday too.

How to write an existentialist novel:
Beginning: dude is sad that life is meaningless.
Middle: dude is kinda okay that life is meaningless.
End: dude finally has sex with the girl.


Meaningful sex at that.

I can't necessarily prove it, but I have a strong intuition that intuitions can't be trusted.

Okay but what's your gut tell you?

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I realized that I'm missing something in my life.

Think about finding it then.

What's bizarre is that people think that humans pursue their own rational self interest, and the fact that people are going around having babies doesn't seem to deter this idea at all.

I think he means in this world.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Thu Apr 26, 2018 11:22 pm

Jeff VanderMeer

Honesty was often just a way of being cruel.


How often though is debatable.

Never has a setting been so able to live without the souls traversing it.

If only on this planet.

It is superstition, she admitted. But it might be true.

Go ahead, walk under the ladder and see.

The real reality is something we create every moment of every day, that realities spin off from our decisions in every second we've alive.

Go ahead, be the first to really understand this.

It was what my mother said sometimes-to be mindful that the universe beyond still existed, that we did not know what lived there, and it might be terrible to reconcile ourselves to knowing so little of it, but that didn't mean it stopped existing. There was something else beyond all of this, that would never know us or our struggles, never care, and that it would go on without us. My mother had found that idea comforting.

Like me though you might not.

But what if you discover that the price of purpose is to render invisible so many other things?

Let's exchange examples of this.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Fri Apr 27, 2018 6:58 pm

Robert Crumb

You don’t have journalists over there anymore, what they have is public relations people. That’s what they have over in America now. Two-hundred and fifty thousand people in public relations. And a dwindling number of actual reporters and journalists.


And that's just in the media industrial complex.

When I come up against the real world, I just vacillate.

Seventy four years for him now and counting.

I felt so painfully isolated that I vowed I would get revenge on the world by becoming a famous cartoonist.

Mission accomplished?

Hey kids, while you're out smashing the state keep a smile on your lips and a song in your hearts.

Of course he's just paraphrasing Abbie Hoffman.

Your vigor for life appalls me.

I'm sure they were devastated.

As a kid growing up in the 1950s I became acutely aware of the changes taking place in American culture and I must say I didn't much like it. I witnessed the debasement of architecture, and I could see a decline in the quality of things like comic books and toys, things made for kids. Old things seemed to have more life, more substance, more humanity in them.

In a word: maybe.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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Re: a thread for mundane ironists

Postby iambiguous » Fri Apr 27, 2018 11:12 pm

C.G. Jung

My speech is imperfect. Not because I want to shine with words, but out of the impossibility of finding those words, I speak in images. With nothing else can I express the words from the depths.


You know where this is going. Or, perhaps, where I will take it.

Who has fully realized that history is not contained in thick books but lives in our very blood?

Trust me: Not the objectivists.

You open the gates of the soul to let the dark flood of chaos flow into your order and meaning. If you marry the ordered to the chaos you produce the divine child, the supreme meaning beyond meaning and meaninglessness.

Hell, I can do this before breakfast.

One book opens another.

Or closes another.

Heaven has become for us the cosmic space of the physicists...But 'the heart glows,' and a secret unrest gnaws at the roots of our being.

My own fucking being in particular.

Man's task is to become conscious of the contents that press upward from the unconscious.

Yeah, good luck with that.
He was like a man who wanted to change all; and could not; so burned with his impotence; and had only me, an infinitely small microcosm to convert or detest. John Fowles

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