Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Thursday, February 07, 2019

Monday, February 04, 2019

The Dialogue of Opposites.

Naturally tolerance can’t tolerate intolerance. It’s the one thing it can’t tolerate. Its diabolical opposite! Of course one should expect tolerance to be particularly sensitive to its own hideous, funhouse mirror image, all flipped-out and wobbly. Can good good evil? Can light light darkness? Yes, but these exceptions only prove what rules. Good goods evil by way of example, not by annihilation, but in a sweet and usually futile wooing exercise. Light lights darkness just by showing up. Annihilation, but not of a thing - of the absence of a thing. Such is light’s whole deal.

And so too tolerance. Intolerance isn’t even a thing, it’s a void. When stands forth tolerance, intolerance must clear the hell out or risk the darkness, and we all know how that ends. When comes the light, darkness hasn’t got a fucking leg to stand on - it splits. So too must intolerance split, at the coming of tolerance. Intolerance can’t stand there all proud, giggling “You must light me just like you light everything else!” Right! Righter than you’d like. Tolerance will light you up, dude.

When someone comes to me with some cryptic armband on crooked and says “I, being white, enjoy the race hate. It’s a huge supremacy on my behalf, I’m flattered to be honest.” I say unto this rascal: “I approve your honesty, but it cannot be honorable to flog the discredited ideology it prompts you so stupidly to confess! I INTOLERATE IT.”

This gets me such a dumb look I want to hit the guy. And it’s always a guy.

That's when the pacifist in me must go to war, albeit, an asymmetrical one. If I could I would terrify this blackguard (well, blancguard anyhow), make an example of his own cowardice, so his bedfellows and cohorts can shiver under the blankets together for warmth, huddled in fear over what might happen to them next. But I can’t.

It is unjust to use the threat of violence as a PR move to draw attention to one’s cause, no matter how self-evident that is. Violence threatened is violence of the mind. Pretty facile, if you can’t cow the sheep with a real set of shears now and then, to keep them eating the grass that is their empty lot.

What then is a towering bastion of tolerance - such as you, dear reader, or you would not have read thus far! What are you, a hypocrite? - to do?

Tower. Of course. Like a God damn bastion.

Refusing to allow tolerance to be broken by anything less than it’s own diametric opposite. Intolerance. It is the duty of tolerance to gut intolerance, with its own broken shards. On principle, principle itself must at times be sacrificed to seeming hypocrisy, for the good of what even it can’t stand. To wit: intolerance. Where tolerance stands, intolerance has got to go. Tolerance can’t stand it.

We have nothing to intolerate but intolerance itself.


I do!

Pret-ty easy.

Sunday, January 27, 2019

A New Low In Come-Ons. The aSocial Media Plug-In You Didn't Know You Could Want!

ThAT'S RIGHT IT'S Fuckzone. Oh, dear.

A plug-in app with the ladies very much in mind! Especially for dudes who want to but can't break the icy barrier. A chance to give all the choice to the ladies! Which we always have, which they always have. A chance to see a choice at all, involving the who-knows-how-many-friends who they know all love them, but who knew how much more they want to? Ladies, choice is a treasure, always yours. But how can you choose when you don't know who wants the prize? Hint: it's not every guy hanging around in close orbit! Aw, I didn't mean to crash your satellite, but it is true. All the more reason for you to want to know: it IS most of them. There, better right?

That's where fuckzone comes in. The flipside! Possibly. Of every friendzone, potentially and just as you wish. Who knows how many pretty sweet guys you've got, nursing a lonely boner for a buddy of theirs who won't put out? Or maybe, who just doesn't know they suppose her to? THIS IS you in many cases! Or could be surely. Surely you want to know.

Your friends will thank you (some of 'em). Albeit, in perhaps a perfunctory "Yeah thanks luv, great!" way. That's alright, Take that dork off the list and right back on the other - when it comes to fuckzone, it's so easy for you and they won't know 'til it hits them! An awful lot of functionality on your side. Very little needed on theirs!

But how easy is it?

Here's what you do:

1. find the site. We keep having to move it around as yet - we're in prelaunch mode, it'll firm up later.
2. download install
3. breeze past the T&C (you must be logged in to your social media accounts!) and get ready to click "Accept."
4. Click "Accept!"

Easy as that! You're through, you've just send an invitation to all your friends and contacts that you'd like them to join the fuckzone app! DON'T WORRY. It's worded coy. And particularly explicit is the big banner at the bottom if the invitation: "Not Sayin' I'll Say Yes ;-)" That's our slogan. Emoji and all, yeah, I know. I was against the emoji but the T&A team said slap it on. Good for the optics. What do I know?

FUCKZONE! The almost asocial media app! A soon-to-be available add-on to FB, IG, and any other place you care to stick in! Proposals pending, but surely approval's a lock right? Natch.

Friday, January 25, 2019

Poor Choice of Words to Eat

They say you don't bite the hand that feeds you, but in my experience - isn't that the only hand you bite? No other hand comes close!

Especially having seen you eat. Seriously. It would take a brave hand or a blind one or both to risk proximity to those incisors, that greedy and frenzied maw of yours, aww. Not cute. And if you're not careful you end up with a finger bit off guard, caught in the gullet and having a ball gagging you 'til basically in disgust, you have to give it up, do the whole thing all over again backwards - a very disorderly approach to food consumption.

You can 'Like' a post, fine, but that don't mean you 'Want' another 'Like' it.

What Some Forgotten Greek Philosopher Could Teach Us About Modern Day Rape Culture Was Not Worth Writing Down

When I was even a few years ago, it never would have occurred to me that not some but ALL MEN object so strenuously to being generalized as a bunch of potentially false rapists. Seriously guys? Is that a thing you really think needs to be said out loud? Come on. If you really think it's such a huge threat, maybe you should. The way to avoid a false rape accusation is just tell the girl it’s a concern of yours. Right up front.

Guys, I swear. I have seriously underestimated the degree to which men resent having to put up with women who don't put out. I always thought it was supposed to be about love - and making it, for that cause alone. It gets pretty lonely there, thinking maybe you're the only one who still thinks that way - which is nice.

But the truth is, that's not what gets into must guy's minds - at least, not to hear them explain it to you, condescendingly eager to put you on the right track and with no whistle stops for edgewise words, contrariwise or otherwise. No, some dudes' amusement is tickled by a scenario quite similar to this one: "put out, bitch!" Which is why so many women are so put out, to the point of not evening putting it out there anymore. Now who these dudes are I don't know, but I conceive their ideal of chivalry to be: keeping an eye out for the one too good to ever let go, pushed to weigh everything: the good and bad benefit, against the often devastating potential for growth. Weighty measures don't even come into it any further than the moment dictates - and it's a real dictator if you get it used to so much as an inch's worth - but again, pushed to it, our starry-eyed chivalrous dude scoffs "Of course! I'm looking out for the one. I just don't know which yet! So I'm looking out for number one in the meantime."

Sure. You want the one too good not to get off the stall your tall horse has been huffing and puffing in and capitulate, throw the whole race! Why wouldn't you? Forced to it brutally with no choice (all marriage is rape) when she gave you the ol' tomato, as The Ultimatum is called in Jersey, famous for its ripe tomatoes, fresh corn and big-haired broads with a pretty serious idea in mind, despite their raucous, keening laugh, their heart-rending vulnerability (we're all vulnerable to that sometimes, especially under the right or wrong operating conditions, doc) and their overall easy-tier sensibility, a good-timer approach that values you but shut up.

This is the idea I get. A very different one from what I grew up, all woke from an everfresh feverish dream, chasing after it like a moron who got knocked off the carousel and ran away crying, still clutching and clutching at the stupid ring that was supposed to be a prize, good for a lifetime of free rides per customer. That was all I ever wanted! None of this, oh, I plan to eventually be forced into it. Meantime let's fool around playing pokey-holey with as many limber and willing contest runners-up we can get to throw their hopes in! You have NO IDEA how fun the last ten seconds of sex are, right before you lose interest and roll over on the bitch for a big snore.

I mean. Am I wrong? It sounds horrible, but I think they mean it!

It took me long enough to catch on they weren't joking. I think this really is the dream girl-goal held out for as long as possible and by most guys, those in tune with the norms prized and lifted into position for another rude and jubilant post celebratory comedown and up and down, it's the only thing worth doing. You can just imagine.

How disappointing a view, from where I sit!

Man, it's love I want, not some fucking fun all my life, finally break down and ok go for love, the love that was right there waiting, in a move timed just before I freak out about my failing looks, and how hard it's going to make it to get any good side tail. Shit.

I hate to sound like a cynic, but you've got to admit, haven't you? In times like these, we need people like me who can fake it till it STINKS, and it does stink. Cynicism. Whoever came up with that died of it. I am approximately as cynical as Diogenes himself, who founded the whole school! But he (like me) got out before it went bad and turned into a depressing and insincere melee of accusation, everybody in it for their own self and, quite naturally, secretly lying about it to create the impression they care.

If I was that kind of cynic, I would back it all the way to the beginning, sit still rather squat to the side of the road and shit its shoulder, on the principle that I don't even care who's sick enough to peek when there's business to do. Settle down! It would be Diogenes himself squatting right next to me! Not waiting his turn at all. No stall could hold that guy.

That was the whole point of his school. "Nothing natural is shameful." Don't wait by the side of the road forever, doing a little dance holding up your lantern in broad daylight and when somebody stops to ask, reply "I'm waiting for a good man to come by." Then, as if to add insult to your sincerely real and urgent need to see such a thing, tell them keep on going!

This is exactly what Diogenes did. All day, roaming the streets of Athens or some damn place, strong and rude and naked beneath a completely inadequate and gamey Toga it looks like he tricked up from a stolen bedsheet, punking Greeks in the unawares, their eyes narrowed by a glance at the unnecessary lantern (a real conversation piece!), in between sleeping off a meal of onions and cheese (his exclusive diet) in a tipped over huge round baked clay vase - a container originally used to ship oil. His was the life! "You should write that shit down," people kept telling him. Diogenes was like, no. You think people in the future'll put it to better use? If say I'm not in their face with my breath while they ponderously sip at the words? You think it'll have a more improving effect then? Waste of time. People are in all times, worth it in person but if you want to write a fucking self help book fuck, help yourself. I don't.

This was how Diogenes rolled. It was how he got his nickname: "The Dog," with his roadside open-tent facetious peepshow move. In Greek it was Kynos. Cynos. Hard to tell, how all the letters have changed since then, but it ended as so many things do, in cynicism. Part of the confusion is, Greek writers got off on the wrong alphabet, but spell it anyway you like. The Cynic.

Diogenes the Cynic. Nothing remotely like today's ill-bred mangy descendants who claim the lineage, but haven't a drop of real blood in their veins. I'd refer you back to the original writings, but (see above) there aren't any. All we have left is the stories. One time, Diogenes straight-up told Alexander the Great (that Alexander the Great, from Wikipedia) to fuck off.

And he did. These two men sized each other up so instantly in agreement: this prick's not worth the breath it takes to talk sense into him (Diogenes) and/or have him flogged and executed (Alex). The crowd at that performance would have been enormous, but little Alex didn't have the stones, or maybe he was tired after building an empire on top of his pop's conveniently early grave, running off with his Daddy's money and plans, vandalizing famous exhibits of exquisite geometry in the involved art of tying ropes into knots and fucking Cleopatra (didn't happen. Look it up). That mother-loving big ol' boy was no nice man, but next to Diogenes he was a pipsqueak. Anybody worshipping Alexander the Great at this late date in the dying light of Western Civilization deserves to end up as the smartest man in the world in a comic book, whose bright idea was to kill half New York City and frame a giant octopus for it that he cooked up himself on the beach just to scare people! And then of course, get away with it.

Fanboys. Sheesh. Did I digress?

Give us a real man, like Diogenes. I promise you, he had no problem with irritating women. Irritating as he was, so were they. It was a self, or rather reciprocally fulfilling arrangement of considerable verve, committed to get on one's famous last nerve. What's natural is not shameful. Why am I always lionizing Diogenes, they ask me? That cat was a dog! Yeah, but these days, not all men aren't. Maybe you see it otherwise.

All I ask is a little serious consideration of the man's message.

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

I'm a Third Class Mind, thank you very much

Yeah, so basically it runs:

First Class: more than sheer awareness here, the startling fact is the direct perception, and the depth and constancy of attention. A first class mind perceives things asensorily, by direct application of mind. The mechanism is incomprehensible to anyone not at least 2nd class. More than that, though, the 1st class mind holds all things within its range in full attention at all times. Even the things it isn't thinking about in any way - making no judgments, coming to no conclusions, not even drawing new observation from - these things are never the less fully held, in mind, with full attention, still.

There are of course degrees. A 1st class mind is not necessarily omniscient. An omniscient mind would be not only rangeless, but hold all things down to the absolute tiniest depths of their quantumscale attributes with full attention, even if without the slightest interest: a knowing of spin, charge, position, velocity and state of everything, whole and part, every particle winking and blipping into and out of existence all through and down into every object and out into all space between, illimitably. Without even trying. Full attention upon all of it, equally, even when fully disinterested in any of it. That would be an omniscient mind. Obviously, such a thing we would not call God. To omniscience you'd need to add a power as illimitable, and a peculiar and personal interest besides, for it to match the description monotheists on Earth unite in calling God. But those additional requirements to meet the agreed-upon* monotheistic premise "God" do not properly have to do with mind.

[ *Purely by way of aside, it really is "agreed-upon." At least over all of the Earth. Monotheists share an overwhelming unanimity on these three definitional aspects of God, which aspects are incomparably hugest and most essential, next to which aspects argument over the details of the God Diet, Hygiene and Anus-Related Propriety Plan are so amusingly trivial in scope that it's rather appalling and sad, to see some people seriously, sternly emphasize squabbles on these ant-like scales as if they represent even motes of difference, set next to the Everest-size agreement there clearly really is. Only the fringest of peculiar-taste sticky-outy outliers disagree on these, God's aspects: Infinite ('potent and 'scient and 'present to the omni degree, for the layperson), Eternal (which is bigger than infinite, timewise - it comes before infinite spacetime broke out), and personal (cares about you, specifically). ]

So we see, there may well be any number of 1st class minds, of varying range (all the way out to rangless) and extent (out to beyond cosmic and down to beyond quantum). A mind is first class by its direct knowing, and its effortless and full attention, even when undirected by thought. You can see how this would be breathtaking.

It's conceivable a first class mind may have form, but for one of any considerable range, form is likely unnecessary, and unlikely to be resorted to except as a lark.

Obviously a first class mind has all the lower class capabilities as well. The point is, though, it doesn't merely exceed these capabilities by extension, by doing the same things lower classes can do but to a wildly greater extent. No, a jump up in class means you can do things the rank below you cannot do at all.

Second Class: these are the minds that go beyond form. Most have a form they inhabit, but they can project mentality beyond, in some way. Some can separate their mentality and roam about from a dissociate viewpont. Some remain within their form, but project mentality (perception, perspective, knowing) from that base, outward to the limit of their range. Range varies. Some second class minds are truly rangeless, but they still must hold attention in a focused way, and turn their mentality this way and that, in order to know.

A second class mind may be able to perceive the thoughts of others, by projecting their mentality towards them, seeing if they are able to perceive the thoughts in a way that makes sense to them. Some can perceive others' thought, but cannot make sense of it. Some may be unable to make sense of a given mind, while other minds of apparently similar kind lay open to them. Individuality counts for much.

A second class mind may be able to project a shareable construct of mentality within and between two minds, for a two-way communication, or scale up the link for a multiple-point conference call.

A second class mind may be able to simply wander free in thought, leaving form behind - but perhaps may possess no capabilities beyond this. May be unable to project its thought into another mind, or unable to perceive the thought of another mind.

What all these minds have in common is ability to project mentality beyond form, in some way, in many ways, or even in all ways (if you can imagine such a thing!). What they lack is ability to know beyond some can of scan, some look, some peek into. What they lack is the ability to hold reality in mind without even thinking about it, directly and with full attention.

Even for a second class mind, it's hard to even imagine what a first class mind would be like. To imagine the experience of it.

Third Class mind: these are the minds that go beyond perception, to have an emergent consciousness of their own self as the unique viewpoint they are particularly and inexplicably attached to. This is only the primary and primal abstraction it is capable of holding and manipulating. More developed third class minds can create, define and manipulate abstractions at will, with the socially-minded examples sharing abstractions between them of breathtaking agreement in particulars, and each holding a useful knowing of what the other means, despite complete incapacity to share any of this information directly, mind-to-mind! For that is the barrier of third class minds. This mind can go anywhere in imagination, even places that don't and never will exist, but it can never get out of its brain: by which I mean, whatever physical matrix holds the mentality components and the interactions within and between them from which its autometaconsciousness is emergent.

Fourth Class mind: these minds may be capable of considerable learned, instinctive, even invented behavioral sophistication, but they aren't capable of abstraction at a meaningful level. Hence, they are not even capable of abstracting from their own fully-immersive perceptual world, a concept of self. It doesn't occur to them as necessary. Arguably, they're right! Who needs "I" when one always has the view from one's own eyes (or the local equivalent)? When one's view never shines out from any other place than that? Make no mistake: some fourth class minds are capable of a shocking degree of intelligence, genius-level practicality of invention and sophistication...all without so much as an "I" between them. This is not hive mind, it's simply a level of self without reflection. A surface of infinite shallowness, always looking out, lacking the inclination or capacity for inward looking - it doesn't come up. But don't underestimate the degree of sophistication possible to these purely-perceptual beings. Sophistication including technological sophistication, capable of projecting perception or force at interstellar distances. And they don't waste much if any of their resources on therapy.

However, those are the exceptions. Most perceptual beings lack even language, beyond bark, roar, squeak, chirp. The distinction here is so important that the fourth class is subdivided:

4A: perceptual beings incapable of meaningful communication via language.
4B: perceptual beings capable of language.

4B almost always does lead inexorably to abstraction, which tends to lead on to self. Technologically advanced civilizations who got that way without even the benefit of meaningful abstraction are invariably ancient. Attitudes that conflate knowledge with instinct and minimize or overlook the difference between symbol and referent abound. Hard to get your mind around.

Fifth Class Mind: Pure stimulus response. Instinctual beings. An amoeba, for instance. Incapable of negotiating the simplest decision tree. There is no decision involved. React. If more then one reaction is possible, the fifth class mind doesn't decide. It reacts. Whichever way the inscrutable exhortation of its drives and needs and instincts call it. It does what it does 'cause it musts what it must! This doesn't mean it's deterministic. It means only that it is incapable of deliberation.

This is by no means a blitz of non-stop action for the fifth class mind! Quite a bit of sitting quite still is frequently involved. Classic example: a fucking tree.

Sixth Class Mind: a fucking rock, for example. The awareness here is incapable of even reaction, let alone deliberation, perception, abstraction, conception, literal projection, direct knowing with full, even disinterested attention, or any other mentality. What does it know?

It knows itself, without self. This is a knowing in spin, charge, position, velocity and state of whole and part and particle winking and blipping into and out of existence, all within and throughout it.

The universe is a sixth class mind. Yup! Dumb as a rock, with a whole lot of bright spots.

But also, every thing all through and within the universe is at least a sixth class mind. Minds of second class have even been known to learn how to talk to them. Conversation is extremely limited, especially to begin with. But to a limited extent, some sixth class minds can be taught. Principally, to react. If you know how to listen, and have a gift for elicitation.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Thought of the day: with impunity

I think with impunity.

I pretty much think with impunity.

I think.

Friday, December 14, 2018

"Art knoweth not moderation, except in passing."

Quote of the day.

I guess I typically put "Quote of the Day" up there, and the quote itself down here.

You know, I'm not sure it isn't better this way?

Example of a double negative that adds meaning, by the way.

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Thought of the Day: Off Schadenfreude

I think the schadenfreude component of much humor is overestimated. I believe our laughter in response to another's misfortune is less often a result of any genuine appreciation of ours for their misfortune, and more often a sudden and involuntary outbreak of relief at our own safety; that we were in this instance spared. Possibly magnified by our recognition that we've been in situations where we exposed ourselves to the risk of quite similar misfortune, just as stupidly, and lucked out or through - a reinforcement that carries a lesson with it: maybe this recognition will help steer us clearer in the future. Or maybe a touch ruefully, we realize it probably won't. That we'll be caught and tripped ourselves, and look a fool, and others will laugh, but we'll carry on through.

The absurdity of our bravery, and the probable futility of it, makes us laugh. I think it is a sympathetic response more than it is a sadistic one.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Thought of the day: perfection consists

Perfection consists not in the realization of an imagined ideal, but in the fulfillment beyond imagining of a real desire.

Thursday, October 04, 2018

Quote of awhile ago: praise

"Praise is the better part of criticism."

For some reason I thought I put this up here someplace already. Anyway.

It is.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

How Can We Be So Sure #9: Pumpkin Spice

What I don't get is, pumpkins aren't spicy. Not even remotely. So what part of the plant does the "spice" come from? The vines? The leaves? The roots? Do they even have roots?

I think at the bottom of it all we'll find that so-called "pumpkin spice" is derived from utterly unpumpkinal - and possibly even unautumnal sources!

It should be looked into. But nobody benefits by looking into these things. As usual, its a hegemony of the status quo riding herd on a gaggle of vested interests to keep change confused, divided and unfocused.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Homosexuality Propounded (Part of the Biblical Knowledge Series) Pt.2: "GAY ANIMALS?" (LGBTQ Animals?)

Listen I am a master of Biblical knowledge in both senses, and sometimes you just have to come right up behind the truth and PROPOUND it, also in both senses (if available).

I don't mean that "propound" has two senses. Pretty sure it only has one: to put something forward for consideration. It isn't even necessarily pro- or con-, as you see. A very even and unbiased approach. I propound it.

No, what I meant had both senses was the truth. Because sometimes it can. And then I put "(if available)" to signify to you yes, sometimes also it doesn't. We must cover both sides of the truth, even if there is only one. Today's topic is one such perfect example. It seems like two sides, but upon fair and thorough examination, there aren't. Begin.

Homosexuality does not exist in the animal world except in common experience, widely-observed and easily verified. There's no sense in which such behavior can be compared to human homosexuality, which does not depend on empirical verification, but upon the moral dimension.

You have to understand the distinction. With animals, there isn't any. Humans, though, are completely different! When an animal engages in a sex act, it's just there. Doin' it. Doin' it doin' it doin' it. Done! With a human, though, there has to be a sanctifying aspect or else you're basically mocking God's creation by behaving like monkeys. Anyone who can say this doesn't have a moral dimension is by-God deficient in poor reasoning. Sometimes they lack the moral sense entirely.

Homosexuality by definition is between a human and a human.

This is what the term has always meant, and no moral or immoral revisionist no matter what claims of "SCIENCE!" they let drop all sly can redefine what the term means, and has always meant, since time immemorial. Proof? Well, for one thing, people didn't even know about this animal business until quite recently! With the exception of certain perverts who, evidently, must have gone out beating the bush looking for it. Therefore by definition, obviously, "homosexuality" means and has always meant humans, because such were the limits of human knowledge. To deny that is to crap in the Oxford English Dictionary, of an edition and year prior to any gay animals coming into its definitions, or coming out in them. Whatever so-called “reality” you may shamelessly discover, does not change the Dictionary.

Only humans can do it, and if they do it amorally, they do it without reference to right and wrong. Considering the Dictionary is a reference book, to do it without reference to right and wrong is by definition as amoral as it gets!

Animals are not gay, because "homosexuality" does not entail or pertain to the blameless things they do to each other. Because they are innocent, even if unruly and stinky sometimes. Even if out-and-out disgusting. Whatever grabbing and slobbering, wet spray of pheromones, seizing roughly and poke-thrusting unto they do to each other is (utterly regardless of biological sex) not immoral. It is only in animals that sex can be biological, at least, primarily. They do that behavior and - if it's with two males, or two females, any combination or quantity past that - it doesn't matter; it's an innocent frolic like children too young to know better, only with the difference of clothes (hopefully). That comparison stank. I just meant animals have the innocence of children. Please stop sexualizing animals: their acts, in this area, are not remotely similar to ours.

Not "ours," I didn’t mean to say! But certainly, some people's.

It's because of the moral dimension. That's what makes animal sex so incomparable. THERE IS NONE. No moral dimension whatsoever! In an animal, so-called "gay behavior" is just a light-hearted slap n' tickle with sometimes a full-bore encore that means as little as the prelude did. But in animals it is first and foremost, totally insignificant!

In humans, by comparison, homosexuality is first and foremost, an immoral act. The two could not be more dissimilar. If animal gay sex is incomparable, human gay sex is even moreso. Nobody’s in any position to compare the two. Only God.

The moral component, its nature and status and essence and character as (first and foremost) an immoral act, means that whatever trivial similarities may appear to exist in the physical realm, true homosexuality is a whole other barrel of Bob's apples. The moral (IMMORAL!) component is so primal, so central, that whatever physical actions go with it are entirely by-the-way, and are only really used to unmistakably signal the immorality of the act. But it makes sense, doesn't it, that given the unique, almost awe-encompassing immorality of homosexuality, the acts chosen to go with are mostly the most gross and disgusting acts unimaginable (and don't try to!)? It makes sense, because this really is an example of the symbolic. That's when something makes sense in a tricky way, that lets you know: God did it. The disgustingness of certain acts, which aren't disgusting at all but perfectly blameless when animals do them, are, revealed for every bit how disgusting they are when chosen to crown and symbolize the truly disgusting: which exists wholly in the moral dimension.

We are clear on that, I believe.

I was going to say something about Darwin, but I forgot.

Monday, September 10, 2018

Friday, August 24, 2018

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Friday, August 17, 2018

Did the Boy Scouts of America mess up admitting girls, or will this revitalize and renew the relevance of their flagging brand?

First, we should admit girls are going to get in pretty much wherever they want to. The question is why they’d want to, given (whether in prospect or consequentially) how they’ll be treated when they get there. What self-respecting girl wants to deliberately run a gauntlet of entrenched Filiarchy?

The answer is easy to see: tomboys. Not every protowoman wants to sell cookies and sash up merit badges on things like modesty, fidelity and homemaking. If the Girl Scouts had stolen a march and badassed their achievement list ages ago, maybe none of this would have ever happened?

Maybe it would’ve.

Girls as an organization have had a branding problem for years. It’s time to think about rebranding girls entirely, something with gravitas, something with heft: protowomen. The problem still doesn’t exist, but it becomes manageable.

The Boy Scouts then respond by changing their name, to what retrospect suggests it should always have been: Man Scouts. This is accompanied by a big ballyhoo’d return to the whole “Man means everyone! Girls too!” ethos, as of old. Controversial? Inflammatory? YES. But sometimes ladies and gentlemen, you’ve got to play a thing out. It wasn’t we who crossed the line first. The line crossed all of us - and now we have to change the game to make sense of the rules! The Girl Scouts would almost certainly up their own ante to keep up with the uncles. To keep the Man Scouts trying to poach their recruit base, they’d need to reinvent themselves as Women Scouts (note the plural! A deliberate emphasis on collective individuality over the abstraction of Man).

Would this be enough to stave off the threat of encroachment? Which proud way would young girls choose? The battle for the very soul of Scouting would be joined!

And with the advent of the new gender-inclusive Man Scouts, eager Eagle Scouts looking to advance to the new next rank of Man would be expected to earn badges in things like cooking for one, self-maintenance (vehicle & home), tax filing, Powerpoint and sports negotiation. At that point, the Woman Scouts would be screwed! They’d need to ramp up their own offering in response, or risk being relegated to a secondary status.

Eventually, a sort of parity would be reached. Colleges would be rebranded as Scouting, open to either side. Beyond college, graduates would continue Scouting right on through life. There are many ways they could do this. For example, they would be well-equipped to take over the task of canvassing the nation’s major Scout Houses for promising future pro athletes.

It’s just a matter of more deeply integrating Scouting into the national fabric, so that it can again become an indispensable part of what forms our character, and guides our young leaders into a hopefully less-confusing future.

Thursday, August 09, 2018

Being in love is a decision, falling in love is not even
a choice.

Wednesday, August 08, 2018

What's the Difference #8: Modesty and Humility

Basically, modesty is for suckers. No I'm just kidding!

Modesty just means you're not a show-off. Prancing around in all your glory - not your style. You prefer clothes. The outfits you choose are modest. Your assets may be considerable - but it's all well-covered. Much has been left to the imagination. People can still tell, maybe - but it wouldn't be polite to. In general, people respect that, and everybody's comfortable.

Then suddenly, all your clothes fall off! Even your unders. You're HUMILIATED! Humiliation galore!

Instantly, you've become humble.

This strange psychological fact is why some people seem to think it might be beneficial, even desirable, to find some clever way of stripping all somebody's clothes off unexpectedly. But surprise! Those people are bound to be embarrassed by the prison terms involved. Lesson learned, I hope: other people's modesty is their deal, not yours.

In the final analysis, humility is our natural state. Modesty is essentially, an affectation. But that's our business - a personal matter of taste and style, and nobody else's call.

Monday, July 02, 2018

the silent cry of bthulhu

THE QUESTION IS ASKED: "Is it true that humans can never imagine things they have never seen before?"

This is not true at all. At the moment I'm imagining a huge, motionlessly swaying uncannily curved form, of impossible color like smooth soapstone corrupted by deep streaks of impurities, its opaque surface lit from within, towering in a hideous majesty over the bleak grey and whitecapped Irish Sea; its wavy tendrils, studded with darkly luminous gem-like buds, extending airily across the pale white sky in measureless, weightless plaits from a central flanged and crenellated structure which resembles nothing, so much as some unholy (or aholy) ten-dimensional cathedral. From round the collar of that structure's foundation by a huge, hempen rope hangs a huger, rudely-lettered and brutally askew cryptic sign: NEO-CTHULHU.

It goes without saying that I've never even seen the Irish Sea.

We can imagine many, many things we've never seen. A veritable and unverifiable host, whose transmission is easily viral for any notion, nonesuch or factoid whose attraction proves subjectively vivid or grabby. The imagination is a fecund breeding ground for all manner of chimeras and phantasms, grown from the spliced genomes and memomes of what all of us together have seen; imagined; described truly, fictitiously, factitiously or outright falsely; or extrapolated wildly or rigorously from there. We can imagine so much more than only what we've seen.

We can imagine its opposite. A thing can have as many opposites as we can plot angles of relation.

We can imagine its complement.

We can imagine its perfection - and there are as many perfections as there can be purposes.

We can imagine its negative image.

We can imagine its composite - its attributes smashed together with those of any other thing or things, in ordered or chaotic fashion!

Now you can say “that's all just combination.” But there are things one human mind can conceive that are so new and so gigantically unprecedented in effect that they could threaten or unhinge the sanity of another. Things that by any sensible use of the words, no one has yet seen. And if out in the universe, there exist unimaginably alien beings, chances are very, supersymmetrically strong that all they are and all they have to show will also be combination. Very likely of the same three fundamental forces (strong, electroweak, gravity) and the same fundamental interactions between them manifesting matter, energy, and if we're all very good, cake.

Creativity is the faculty that takes what's there and makes what you will of it. Imagination is the will at play. Originality is a novel amalgam.

Reality has only the limits we discover. Imagination…has not even those. Do you know what we have not seen?

I do. I know of a great many such whats, and I can imagine a fair few more.

We have not seen Angels. But I can imagine at least eighteen of them.

Monday, June 11, 2018

Thought of the day: amusement

The whole world's an amusement park if you don't mind being one of the rides.

Alternate supplemental thought of the day: amusement parkour

The whole world's an amusement park if you don't mind improvised rides.

Wednesday, June 06, 2018

Sense of the Day: #4. Smell. Celestial/Infernal Intrusions: Relative or Subjective?

At the end of the day I might stink to high heaven, but I sure smell great to hell.

emily dickishness

If You were Bare Nude Naked,
And I had Clothes -
I would take off my long Shirt
To tickle your Nose

Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Thought of the day: Certainty

Confidence derives not from one's certainty, but from one's ability to improve upon it.

Validation: an Appraisal

Who needs validation? What is it FOR? How can anyone go around feeling “I need someone to validate me!” Who can possibly validate you if you don't already know you're valid?

Once you are valid, who can invalidate you? Does validation have a time stamp, after it expires you have to run round seeking someone new to stamp you? What is this?

There isn't a person or authority on Earth I recognize valid to validate or invalidate me, or any other human being for that matter. A human being's validity in my view is unquestioned and unquestionable. Maybe part of the problem with validation-seekers is that they don't recognize this.

Praise, encouragement and criticism are all very nice. They let us know what we did was worth paying attention to, and they cue us to things we might want to focus on. Praise and encouragement feel good to get, when we feel they're sincere and reasonably accurate. Sometimes I praise or encourage someone, and they thank me for the validation.

I know, I know it's a word people use for that. But it's a horrible word. It's as if you're using the good feeling from praise or encouragement to temporarily get over your essential invalidity. Soon the feeling runs out, and you're no longer valid. You must get more validation. What are you without validation??

Dope! You are valid anyway. You are valid without validation! Not one person on Earth has standing to validate you! It's fine if they try. Take it as a compliment! Compliments are nice, praise feels good, encouragement uplifts you but do you notice one thing about these three things?

Not one of them implies that without them, you are insufficient.

“Validation” is a horrible word for a horrible concept: the idea that you aren't enough, unless someone says you are.

Sorry I called you a dope. Another good reason not to get your self-worth from words of others: sometimes they're bad and wrong. You aren't stupid, validation is. Enjoy and learn from others' praise, encouragement, even criticism. As to validation, though: bin it.

It's invalid.