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Archive for March, 2009

. . . the Logos who suffers in us at every moment. This verily is that. I am the fire upon the altar. I am the sacrificial butter. – James Joyce, Ulysses But the worst enemy you can encounter will always be you; you lie in wait for yourself in caves and woods. Lonely one, [...]

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‘We have invented happiness,’ say the last men, and they blink. And thus spoke Zarathustra to the people: “The time has come for man to set himself a goal. The time has come for man to plant the seed of his highest hope. His soil is still rich enough. But one day this soil will [...]

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Blessed are the sleepy ones: for they shall soon drop off. At one time Zarathustra too cast his delusion beyond man, like all the afterworldly. The work of a suffering and tortured god, the world then seemed to me. A dream the world then seemed to me, and the fiction of a god: colored smoke [...]

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I love him who chastens his god because he loves his god: for he must perish of the wrath of his god. I love him whose soul is deep, even in being wounded, and who can perish of a small experience: thus he goes gladly over the bridge. [Nietzsche's Thus Spoke Zarathustra]

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VIRGINIA:  Are you hungry? ANDY:  No.  (Long reflective pause.)  Wait a minute.  Did you mean am I hungry for food, or am I hungry in the abstract, like hungry for knowledge or adventure? VIRGINIA:  What were we talking about? ANDY:  You asked if I was hungry. VIRGINIA:  Did I? ANDY:  Yes. VIRGINIA:  Well, are you? [...]

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“Just because horses occasionally poo-poo on the street is no reason to stop using horses.”

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The method must be purest meat and no symbolic dressing, actual visions and actual prisons as seen then and now. Prisons and visions presented with rare descriptions corresponding exactly to those of Alcatraz and Rose. A naked lunch is natural to us, we eat reality sandwiches. But allegories are so much lettuce. Don’t hide the [...]

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Clem trips a spastic cripple and takes his crutches. . . . He does a hideous parody twitching and drooling. . . . Riot noises in the distance — a thousand hysterical Pomeranians. Shop shutters slam like guillotines. Drinks and trays hang in the air as the patrons are whisked inside by the suction of [...]

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I am not actually tone deaf, though it might be better if I were. Music can touch me, it can get at me, it can torment. It just, as it were, reaches me, like a sinister gabbling in a language one can almost understand, a gabbling which is horribly, one suspects, about oneself. When I [...]

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I know from my own experience that telepathy is a fact. I have no interest in proving telepathy or anything to anybody. I do want usable knowledge of telepathy. What I look for in any relationship is contact on the nonverbal level of intuition and feeling, that is, telepathic contact. – William Burroughs, Junky

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I lay on the narrow wood bench, twisting from one side to the other. My body was raw, twitching, tumescent, the junk-frozen flesh in agonizing thaw. I turned over on my stomach and one leg slipped off the bench. I pitched forward and the rounded edge of the bench, polished smooth by the friction of [...]

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“Yes that’s what she wanted, that was the purpose of her action,” my compassionate reason assured me; but I felt that, in doing so, my reason was still basing itself on the same hypothesis which it had adopted from the start. Whereas I was well aware that it was the other hypothesis which had invariably [...]

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Dig deep; the water — goodness — is down there. And as long as you keep digging, it will keep bubbling up. [Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.59]

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Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now take what’s left and live it properly. [Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 7.56]

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The stench of decay. Rotting meat in a bag. Look at it clearly. If you can. [Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.38]

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