On the ascent I felt the sitting of the office getting out of the system. Right at the base of the run, it goes up, so you don't know how good you feel. You might feel bad. You might feel fast. It doesn't matter: this is an ascent, just a mild one here, but it doesn't feel good.
It gets harder and rockier. You go into the trees. There is shade. You wind through the boulders, stones, and soil. And then there is the meadow and the sunlight. You look behind and see the mountain range, right there. And then the meadow again. You begin descending.
During the descent the speed picks up and so too your ability to navigate boulders and large rocks.
"I am a hunter. I am hunting. I am hunting."
And you are competing against other men. The primal feelings of following a trail and moving faster than other men arise. Only on this mountain and on this trail.
The men in the city who chase women aren't men--that is to say, their activity is indicative of feminine behavior. Men know the hunt takes precedence to everything. But not on principal. It is a primal urge for a man to want to hunt more than anything else, and part of this hunt involves competition against other men. A woman is only a very temporary need, and if he is a great hunter, not only does he have no time to seek women, women will readily seek him.
A great man does not seek women. A great man naturally pursues his instinct, and his instinct is to hunt.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Cali
OK, I am going to Cali for the same time frame. I am going to cycle for two weeks in Colombia with Moraline. Crime is on the rise in Colombia, the state is falling apart. The cleansing blood of anarchy makes such a country pure.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Others
I'm a wreck with people. It messes me up and it messes them up. I am sorry. I get along with the stones of mountains. I get along with river crossings. I work well with ascents and descents.
I drink when I think of others. I rise early and am happy when I think of the waiting sky, the mountains, the earth that will welcome my feet. I am so, so very sorry.
I drink when I think of others. I rise early and am happy when I think of the waiting sky, the mountains, the earth that will welcome my feet. I am so, so very sorry.
Faster
The run was supposed to be exhausting. But as I rose on the mountain, in the shade and sun, I felt lighter. I ran on red dirt. I ran over boulders and grass. When I arrived in the meadow, I ran faster.
Running
Indeed, after 4 years of thinking, it was time to go off and focus on pure physical stimulus: A journey on a bicycle, a chance for the body to experience hunter-gatherer extremes, eyes bathed in constant, new images, cultures. Sitting and thinking has and had its place.
Now is a period of trails, long miles, fast races, new countries. No more focus on the 'other,' but on mountains, covering distances. I cannot argue with miles and rocks and trees. I cannot argue with elevation and the beauty of the sky. Mountains never approach me for conversation.
Now is a period of trails, long miles, fast races, new countries. No more focus on the 'other,' but on mountains, covering distances. I cannot argue with miles and rocks and trees. I cannot argue with elevation and the beauty of the sky. Mountains never approach me for conversation.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Language
Sartre, Being and Nothingness, p. 373:
"In the intersubjectivity of the for-others, it is not necessary to invent language because it is already given in the recognition of the other. I am language."
Right, and a fellow who runs 22 miles a day, each day, in persistence running? A fellow like Chrome who, 'effortlessly,' grasps and grabs the beauty of a pitcher, the forlorned look of a fan, and the genius of champions with his eyes and his camera (which SI and ESPN eat up, by the way). Or Moraline's journey of Odysseus?
This is Moraline's whole points about sitting. If language is the house of being, where, indeed, do I live?
"In the intersubjectivity of the for-others, it is not necessary to invent language because it is already given in the recognition of the other. I am language."
Right, and a fellow who runs 22 miles a day, each day, in persistence running? A fellow like Chrome who, 'effortlessly,' grasps and grabs the beauty of a pitcher, the forlorned look of a fan, and the genius of champions with his eyes and his camera (which SI and ESPN eat up, by the way). Or Moraline's journey of Odysseus?
This is Moraline's whole points about sitting. If language is the house of being, where, indeed, do I live?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Seduction and Moraline's philosophy
It can be accidental or intentional. Men who lack projects (in the broadest sense of the concept of project; read: purpose) must mimic other men, they must form schemes, they have no 'follow up' plan. Artifices and crutches define their lives, and many find themselves conducting contrived, soulless, schemes. Evaluate women on whether (and if so, how frequently) they fall for these men.
A man with a project naturally would compel a woman who can sense his natural spontaneity, energy, and pleasure in what he is doing. A woman who cannot distinguish between a man with an authentic project and a fraud, fake, or forgery is inherently mis-wired. A woman loses her value not by how many authentic men with which she forges romantic connections. Her value remains neutral at this point. Her value plummets considerably when she allows herself to be usurped by a man with no project at all but rather a series of ruses, gimmicks, and ploys. Again, indicative of a fundamental mis-wiring.
A discussion of a past is of some interest in this regard. A woman who consistently attracts men engaged in compelling projects demonstrates her ability to select. She may well never find the man who is right for her, but learns from each man and develop her character (and his character) in doing so. A woman should thus be free and open to discuss the men in her past: of course, there is nothing to regret. Yet a woman with something to hide, something for which she feels shame, reveals a mis-wiring of instinct: her inability to select a man with a project.
Seduction involves positing oneself as a necessary intermediary between you and the other: their world has been transformed; their relation to objects has been affected by the intermediary that you constitute between the object of seduction. But there is an authentic and an inauthentic seduction. The former requires a man with a project, and is not premeditated and lacks fraud, ruses, and other manifestations of charlatanism. The latter originates from a man without power and authenticity: a man without a project. His conduct is characterized by fraud.
We should evaluate women by the men who seduce them.
A man of the pantheistic God of tragic indeterminacy does not engage in fraud. A man of God the father engages in nothing but fraud. Again: does a woman fall for fraudulent men?
Authentic men and women who fall for one another understand the tragic indeterminacy of the matter. They feel each other's energy and projects, and understand (feel, live) its contingency. A man or woman who embrace God the father will consider the seduced mode of being to be an original essence--the series of ruses and artifices which sustain the Relationship are necessary under their faith as any and all means justify the end, because, after all, it is God's predetermined will. From an evolutionary perspective, authentic forms of seduction give rise to greatness for both men and women; inauthentic modes of seduction drive us to lower and baser forms of a species.
A man with a project naturally would compel a woman who can sense his natural spontaneity, energy, and pleasure in what he is doing. A woman who cannot distinguish between a man with an authentic project and a fraud, fake, or forgery is inherently mis-wired. A woman loses her value not by how many authentic men with which she forges romantic connections. Her value remains neutral at this point. Her value plummets considerably when she allows herself to be usurped by a man with no project at all but rather a series of ruses, gimmicks, and ploys. Again, indicative of a fundamental mis-wiring.
A discussion of a past is of some interest in this regard. A woman who consistently attracts men engaged in compelling projects demonstrates her ability to select. She may well never find the man who is right for her, but learns from each man and develop her character (and his character) in doing so. A woman should thus be free and open to discuss the men in her past: of course, there is nothing to regret. Yet a woman with something to hide, something for which she feels shame, reveals a mis-wiring of instinct: her inability to select a man with a project.
Seduction involves positing oneself as a necessary intermediary between you and the other: their world has been transformed; their relation to objects has been affected by the intermediary that you constitute between the object of seduction. But there is an authentic and an inauthentic seduction. The former requires a man with a project, and is not premeditated and lacks fraud, ruses, and other manifestations of charlatanism. The latter originates from a man without power and authenticity: a man without a project. His conduct is characterized by fraud.
We should evaluate women by the men who seduce them.
A man of the pantheistic God of tragic indeterminacy does not engage in fraud. A man of God the father engages in nothing but fraud. Again: does a woman fall for fraudulent men?
Authentic men and women who fall for one another understand the tragic indeterminacy of the matter. They feel each other's energy and projects, and understand (feel, live) its contingency. A man or woman who embrace God the father will consider the seduced mode of being to be an original essence--the series of ruses and artifices which sustain the Relationship are necessary under their faith as any and all means justify the end, because, after all, it is God's predetermined will. From an evolutionary perspective, authentic forms of seduction give rise to greatness for both men and women; inauthentic modes of seduction drive us to lower and baser forms of a species.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Jealousy
For the explorer, this would be a sign of sickness, weakness, and degeneracy. For the urban sitter, for the unchallenged man with a lack of perspective, he is infected with jealousy and is an urban tubercular of the soul.
An explorer takes what he needs, including women he may well meet along the way. He takes them then and there and if she is desirable, he takes her--he does not compete or consider other men.
It would be in degeneration, then, that jealousy occurs. Jealousy is the sudden belief that somehow the Great Creator is anything other than a chaotic flux of spontaneity (anything othen than what the earlier Moraline called "tragic indeterminacy"). To be clearer: Jealousy is the idea that, under a paternal Father God, a woman has been chosen for you. No others have been with her or could have ever been with her because God the Father had chosen only her for you. Nothing is left to chance, there were no tragic indeterminacies, you met her at that spot on that day because God planned it. Your love for her was predetermined in His eyes, and she could not have ever loved other any other circumstance, permutation of chance, or context.
Thus jealousy is a degenerate combat between a healthy outlook--pantheistic tragic indeterminacy (i.e., the God of King's Forest, et al.)--and an unhealthy outlook: God the Father.
It is unthinkable for a degenerate and lost man of God the Father to consider that his beloved might not only be loving another, but many others. It is no worry for a true man of God, a man of the true panthesitic God of tragic indeterminacy, the God of the King's Forest and the God of the road and the mountains.
Jealousy is correctly a deadly sin, but it is not a sin against God the Father but a sin of God the Father. If a man is jealous, he is sick, and is sick because he has turned his back on the one and true God.
An explorer takes what he needs, including women he may well meet along the way. He takes them then and there and if she is desirable, he takes her--he does not compete or consider other men.
It would be in degeneration, then, that jealousy occurs. Jealousy is the sudden belief that somehow the Great Creator is anything other than a chaotic flux of spontaneity (anything othen than what the earlier Moraline called "tragic indeterminacy"). To be clearer: Jealousy is the idea that, under a paternal Father God, a woman has been chosen for you. No others have been with her or could have ever been with her because God the Father had chosen only her for you. Nothing is left to chance, there were no tragic indeterminacies, you met her at that spot on that day because God planned it. Your love for her was predetermined in His eyes, and she could not have ever loved other any other circumstance, permutation of chance, or context.
Thus jealousy is a degenerate combat between a healthy outlook--pantheistic tragic indeterminacy (i.e., the God of King's Forest, et al.)--and an unhealthy outlook: God the Father.
It is unthinkable for a degenerate and lost man of God the Father to consider that his beloved might not only be loving another, but many others. It is no worry for a true man of God, a man of the true panthesitic God of tragic indeterminacy, the God of the King's Forest and the God of the road and the mountains.
Jealousy is correctly a deadly sin, but it is not a sin against God the Father but a sin of God the Father. If a man is jealous, he is sick, and is sick because he has turned his back on the one and true God.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Away
So this kid goes off. He remembered the bike tour at 17, how you can cover a lot of miles on your own power, see the undetected, meet undiscovered people on their own terms, make friends, and learn things about other humans, my species. He rode and camped with his Hungarian buddy and remembered the suffering and discomfort of it all. Suffering and discomfort are the most beautiful memories of a ride. It could be images of natural beauty, about riding in those times. He had read no literature on bicycle touring but the local bike shop right off the lake front was a stellar place--they had everything, and they taught him about low riders, racks, panniers, and water. Southern Illinois is hot and humid in the summer, and the mosquitoes are aggressive.
Moving forward and exploring the earth and humans with one's own energy. I have little that is clever, poetic, or original, but I have these memories of bicycle journeys and I have noted that Moraline is on a great journey. I would look for this journey 4 years later and return to it.
Moving forward and exploring the earth and humans with one's own energy. I have little that is clever, poetic, or original, but I have these memories of bicycle journeys and I have noted that Moraline is on a great journey. I would look for this journey 4 years later and return to it.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Berekely
Berkeley, "A Defense of Free Thinking in Mathematics"
Excerpts:
"In my opinion the greatest men have their Prejudices. Men learn the elements of
Science from others: And every learner hath a deference more or less to authority, especially
the young learners, few of that kind caring to dwell long upon Principles, but inclining rather
to take them upon trust: And things early admitted by repetition become familiar: And
this familiarity at length passeth for Evidence. Now to me it seems, there are certain points
tacitly admitted by Mathematicians, which are neither evident nor true. And such points or
principles ever mixing with their reasonings do lead them into paradoxes and perplexities.
If the great author of the fluxionary method were early imbued with such notions, it would
only shew he was a man. And if by vertue of some latent errour in his principles a man
be drawn into fallacious reasonings, it is nothing strange that he should take them for true:
And, nevertheless, if, when urged by perplexities and uncouth consequences, and driven to
arts and shifts, he should entertain some doubt thereof, it is no more than one may naturally
suppose, might befall a great genius grappling with an insuperable di culty: Which is the
light in which I have placed Sir Isaac Newton. * Hereupon you are pleased to remark, that I
represent the great author not only as a weak but an ill man, as a Deceiver and an Impostor.
The Reader will judge how justly."
"Because I am not guilty of your mean Idolatry, you inveigh against me as a
person conceited of my own Abilities; not considering that a person of less Abilities may
know more on a certain point than one of greater; not considering that a purblind eye, in
a close and narrow view, may discern more of a thing, than a much better eye in a more
extensive prospect; not considering that this is to x a ne plus ultra, to put a stop to all
future inquiries; Lastly, not considering that this is in fact, so much as in you lies, converting
the Republick of Letters into an absolute monarchy, that it is even introducing a kind of
Philosophic Popery among a free People."
Excerpts:
"In my opinion the greatest men have their Prejudices. Men learn the elements of
Science from others: And every learner hath a deference more or less to authority, especially
the young learners, few of that kind caring to dwell long upon Principles, but inclining rather
to take them upon trust: And things early admitted by repetition become familiar: And
this familiarity at length passeth for Evidence. Now to me it seems, there are certain points
tacitly admitted by Mathematicians, which are neither evident nor true. And such points or
principles ever mixing with their reasonings do lead them into paradoxes and perplexities.
If the great author of the fluxionary method were early imbued with such notions, it would
only shew he was a man. And if by vertue of some latent errour in his principles a man
be drawn into fallacious reasonings, it is nothing strange that he should take them for true:
And, nevertheless, if, when urged by perplexities and uncouth consequences, and driven to
arts and shifts, he should entertain some doubt thereof, it is no more than one may naturally
suppose, might befall a great genius grappling with an insuperable di culty: Which is the
light in which I have placed Sir Isaac Newton. * Hereupon you are pleased to remark, that I
represent the great author not only as a weak but an ill man, as a Deceiver and an Impostor.
The Reader will judge how justly."
"Because I am not guilty of your mean Idolatry, you inveigh against me as a
person conceited of my own Abilities; not considering that a person of less Abilities may
know more on a certain point than one of greater; not considering that a purblind eye, in
a close and narrow view, may discern more of a thing, than a much better eye in a more
extensive prospect; not considering that this is to x a ne plus ultra, to put a stop to all
future inquiries; Lastly, not considering that this is in fact, so much as in you lies, converting
the Republick of Letters into an absolute monarchy, that it is even introducing a kind of
Philosophic Popery among a free People."
Garage
Metaphor 1
The old engine is sputtering in the garage. It has started, miraculously, but the gasoline is weak and the oil is viscous. Questions arise: can this thing be fixed while it is running? How much of this weak gas is left in the tank? Should it race around the yard one last time before it dies, or should it be repaired, as we do seem to recall the engine was forged from good metal?
Metaphor 2
Some men have read the work of others and are making themselves men. Other men* still sit with building blocks piled high on their laps, knocking down each poor attempt at a project, knocking down these blocks out of anger, fatigue, hibernation. The sharp pain of these blocks after years of sleeping on them. Ah, now, yes, what do we have here? I know how this works--yes, I remember. These blocks, those old ideas--they were tied to an individual who once had a project.
Metaphor 3
But there is no identity, there is no self, there is no personality, there are no memories, there is no history or past. So how in the hell does it seem that the things I cling to are the things I know are fake? Ah, but do not fret--The question is similar to: How can I possibly get up this mountain when there is no purchase for my hands? (But what about your feet, or what about your body? Have you used every last bit of your soul to get up the mountain? Once you get a rhythm, you get moving. Find the rhythm again and trust it.)
*=myself
The old engine is sputtering in the garage. It has started, miraculously, but the gasoline is weak and the oil is viscous. Questions arise: can this thing be fixed while it is running? How much of this weak gas is left in the tank? Should it race around the yard one last time before it dies, or should it be repaired, as we do seem to recall the engine was forged from good metal?
Metaphor 2
Some men have read the work of others and are making themselves men. Other men* still sit with building blocks piled high on their laps, knocking down each poor attempt at a project, knocking down these blocks out of anger, fatigue, hibernation. The sharp pain of these blocks after years of sleeping on them. Ah, now, yes, what do we have here? I know how this works--yes, I remember. These blocks, those old ideas--they were tied to an individual who once had a project.
Metaphor 3
But there is no identity, there is no self, there is no personality, there are no memories, there is no history or past. So how in the hell does it seem that the things I cling to are the things I know are fake? Ah, but do not fret--The question is similar to: How can I possibly get up this mountain when there is no purchase for my hands? (But what about your feet, or what about your body? Have you used every last bit of your soul to get up the mountain? Once you get a rhythm, you get moving. Find the rhythm again and trust it.)
*=myself
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