Saturday, July 08, 2006

"engendered"...my ass

'engendered'?!!?...get out of your head and into my car!!!...i'll drive you far away from the mis-information of academia and into the cool mist of the infinite ocean...oh wait, i don't have a car, i suppose you will forever be stuck in the desert of a discontent you hardly realize...one so all pervasive and powerful that years ago as you began to realize the power of these destructive thoughts you masked them in the language of philosophy...you see, no philosopher worth his salt ever figures anything out that is not already known intrinsically in the hearts of men...their job is to constantly spin yarns, move circularly, and figure nothing...only writing the boredom of proofs that cannot be proven, and smugly playing childish language games that lead nowhere but to the deathbed...if this is not the case, why are the best philosophers the least appreciated by their colleagues...and the well bred golden children of the day, whose theories if grasped fully are pointless, the most celebrated...it is the curse of existence...the absurd follows us around every corner...it has you, me, and the all the other ghastly human beings by the balls...

3 Comments:

Blogger mr.giles said...

I have carefully cultivated discontent as my own personal narcotic, my emancipated friend. But I thank you for the offer of freedom as I am shackled by the language learned. I have at times fought this, but acceptance allows me to move with more freedom. Getting bogged down in what linguistic forms I use would stultify the ambiguity I attempt to nurture. My language is a product of academia, true. My “philosophy” is not structured, not consistent, and based on a premeditated condition of unknowing. The moment that I “know” or “believe” in something is when my “philosophy” becomes philosophy, dead and without merit beyond that of a fossilized snapshot of time. You, knowing my external self, must realize that I contemplate death daily; frivolously, seriously, playfully, with undue anticipation and anxiety. Unlike in academia, I try and avoid hard conclusions. I don’t need or want to convince anyone into believing in me or my arguments. I don’t assume that I am smart and, certainly, I’m not wise, but I am focused, like a magnified beam of light, on death. Swimming in ambiguity, in the absurd process of death, is a pleasure. Discontent is the accepted by-product and my friend. Lonely is the sound of cicadas in isolation. Somewhere, in there, is life. Somewhere, in there, my balls hang free, proud in their firmly held, scrotumic existence.

7/13/2006 08:35:00 AM  
Blogger church of al said...

i am sorry baz...i never should have doubted you...

7/13/2006 09:49:00 AM  
Blogger mr.giles said...

Please, my friend, your apologies are unnecessary. I am a pompous ass when at my most humble and read like a philosopher at his most obscure. Misery loves company, but starts charging rent after awhile.

7/13/2006 01:29:00 PM  

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