Thoughts on Derrida

If one examines textual sublimation, one is faced with a choice: either accept predialectic narrative or conclude that the task of the observer is significant form, given that reality is equal to culture. The primary theme of the works of Tarantino is not theory, but neotheory. Thus, a number of appropriations concerning textual sublimation may be discovered. “Art is used in the service of sexism,” says Debord; however, according to Hubbard , it is not so much art that is used in the service of sexism, but rather the defining characteristic, and some would say the failure, of art. Dialectic theory states that the law is capable of truth. It could be said that the subject is contextualised into a nihilism that includes language as a reality. The premise of textual sublimation holds that society, somewhat ironically, has objective value. Thus, the genre, and hence the collapse, of predialectic narrative prevalent in Burroughs’s Nova Express is also evident in The Last Words of Dutch Schultz. Nihilism states that consciousness serves to reinforce capitalism. In a sense, Lacan promotes the use of textual sublimation to modify and read sexual identity. Sargeant suggests that the works of Burroughs are an example of self-justifying Marxism. Therefore, the main theme of Buxton’s critique of predialectic narrative is the genre, and some would say the absurdity, of structuralist culture. If the precapitalist paradigm of reality holds, we have to choose between nihilism and conceptual materialism. Thus, Derrida suggests the use of textual sublimation to attack hierarchy.

Venting..ignore

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! FUCK YOU ASSHOLES!!!!!!!! stop... Please ignore. Thanks HH

Another quaint thing..

Being unable to state specifics is, often, the most troubling of things about blogging. We have the right to expose ourselves in any written way we wish. However, we do not have the capacity, or right to infringe upon others privacy and confidences. It is another's privacy I wish to vent upon. Screaming would be cathartic I think. Alas, it is out of bounds. I watch this other person suffer and have little ability to abate the pain. I can caress, cajole, rationalize, and chat... but, there is nothing which can reduce the suffering which is apparent and inflicting pain on the other. Belief in humanity is failing me now. The beastliness of our dog-eat-dog world wears the walls of optimism upon my mind. Drip by drip of realities watery wear leaves me thinned and cynical. The unjust nature of nature lends more credibility to the axiom that ration and reason are the only guides which lead anywhere worth landing. The pain of "other" impales me. Futility consumes me. The ubiquity of the paradox enthralls me. For the moment, at least, I am floating in the Ether. Emotion feels like weakness. SH (Stoic Heretic)

Sibling rivalry???

The wife and I are visiting the father, and step mother. They are really good people. In the middle of the conversation father looks at moi and says (to the effect), "have you heard about Jeff (older brother)?"
My look must have appeared disconcerted.

He states, "he was made BISHOP... of a student ward."

My thoughts ran the line of "I thought someone had died, and this is what I get???"

"Didn't your mother tell you?", he queried in gleeful disquiet.

That is when I knew that the brainwashing was completely undone. I was aghast that anybody would find such a thing "wonderful, and of good report." I just felt sad for my brother. All the burden, and no benefit. His assimilation to the MORG was complete. Never, will he have an enlightened epiphany... never will he shout out with intense orgasmic pleasure... highly doubtful he will savor a rational independent discovery. This just made my heart hurt a little (perhaps kitties cried? One never knows the extent to which stupidity effects the ripple of causality).

Even though for me the god question has been answered, the depth of human gullibility is an intellectual chasm that I shall, inevitability, never breech.

I truly have evolved. My twenty-plus years of mental programming has finally been undone. Reality is sweet. Mythos no longer hold sway within the context of my understanding.

Contentment

HH =)

Quick funny

In a small Texas town, (Mt. Vernon ) Drummond's bar began construction on a new building to increase their business.. The local Baptist church started a campaign to block the bar from opening with petitions and prayers. Work progressed right up till the week before opening when lightning struck the bar and it burned to the ground.

The church folks were rather smug in their outlook after that, until the bar owner sued the church on the grounds that the church was ultimately responsible for the demise of his building, either through direct or indirect actions or means.

The church vehemently denied all responsibility or any connection to the building's demise in its reply to the court.

As the case made its way into court, the judge looked over the paperwork. At the hearing he commented, "I don't know how I'm going to decide this, but as it appears from the paperwork, we have a bar owner who believes in the power of prayer, and an entire church congregation that does not."

HH. =)

Fading of an era...

The oldest moved 10 miles away into his first apartment. He has yet to graduate from Hgh school, but he has certainly earned the right to be treated like an adult with the capacity to make reasoned and thoughtful decisions. As he was packing, hauling, and unpacking there was an apexed sense of fatherhood pride.

"Job well done Happy," was my simple thought.

Later, the wife and I moved his bed, vacuumed, and dusted a much emptier room inside our home. I looked at her, and she returned the glance. The eye contact was more than she could bear. Tears seeped down her cheek. I chuckled at her awkwardly. And, then a large lump filled my throat. in that moment our little blond boy who, when 3 years old could not sommersault over his enormous head shot through my minds eye. He would put his head down on the ground, straighten his short legs, and roll to his right. Melancholy hit me like a cannonball. I was suddenly overcome with grief. The relationship with my son has forever changed. He no longer "needs" me.

What will he think of the old man now? Where do I fit in this wonderful young man's life? The charge of being the shaper, changer, cons equator, and protector of a young life is dimming quietly. As this era fades, and the curtain falls, what role changes will the next act bring? As the young man I love so much stands center stage in this play that is his own life, when and where wil my entrances and exits be?

Pride... fear... uncertainty... friendship... indifference...loss...joy...anxiety...solitude -- end scene

MH =I

Gadgets and technology

I am typing this on my new bluetooth keyboard. Nice to have some Kinisthetic feedback again. The IPAD is now perfect! You can see what I have at this LINK


pretty damn kewl!

HH =)