Tag Archives: Philosophy

*Birdle Burble

magpies-1905.jpg!halfhd

 

I went out of my mind and then came to my senses

By meeting a magpie who mixed up his tenses,

Who muddled distinctions of nouns and of verbs,

And insisted that logic is bad for the birds.

With a poo-wee cluck and a chit, chit-chit;

The grammar and meaning don’t matter a bit.

 

The stars in their courses have no destination;

The train of events will arrive at no station;

The inmost and ultimate Self of us all

Is dancing on nothing and having a ball.

So with chat for chit and with tat for tit,

This will be that, and that will be It!

 

 

*The poem above is taken from Alan Watt’s “Nonsense”.

**Painting “Magpies” by Archibald Thorburn, 1905.

 

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* I prefer dongulation

laughing-hotei

It is, I think, increasingly clear that parameters of this kind provide an essential corrective to the obsession of sanity. More and more, one feels that free and dominant methods are loud, tough, and frequent. Obviously, closed corners must be very carefully under-rated; otherwise, popular notions of frame and texture will show that the entire system is purely academic, and that the particular point of convergent energies is that they are finally globular.
Cows are, naturally, free of dust. But stops are most difficult to try. The real problem is that quills are too fat, and until we can easily connect ideas with tassles the function will be empty. Not that this would be equal: it is only that disproportionate combinations have an existential dimension which is, all too often, gullible.
On the whole, I prefer dongulation. It is prepid, snord, and tart, and the vallifaction of an estimate is grolic. Churdles and mards will always require fronicks, and lapsy daddles are usually bequeathed to the snorder kind of lumpens. Bolliwots are frankly bespoken, and every mutter-hound is a preposterous garble of tonsils. I have no wish to be snerdily previous: It is merely that wumpens and drabs are vollible, and that any further toculation would be groanly unspecified.

 

*Quotation above are taken from Alan Watt’s “Nonsense”

**Painting “Laughing Hotei” by Kogan Genge

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Words that inspire: I’m helping to build a cathedral

sketch-to-the-portrait-of-a-builder

It surprises me how often we hold ourselves back until we have no choice.

….

Three guys laying bricks are asked why they’re doing it. The first guy says, “I’m doing it for the wages.” The second guy says, “I’m doing it to support my family.” The third guy says: “I’m helping to build a cathedral.”

….

Put your dream in a lockbox, go out and make Fuck You money, then come back to the lockbox and pick up where you left off. I met plenty who tried, but none who succeeded.

….

Seek out that at which you might fail. And just keep going. Take more risk. Plow ahead.

….

Is it better to succeed at something you don’t really believe in, or is it better to fail at something you really do believe in?

Our fears should be attacked, not run from. From our deepest wounds come our greatest gifts.

The things we really want to do are usually the ones that scare us the most.

Usually, all we get is a glimmer. A story we read or someone we briefly met. A curiosity. A meek voice inside, whispering. It’s up to us to hammer out the rest.

 

*Quotations above are taken from Po Bronson’s “What should I do with my life?”

** Painting “Sketch to the portrait of a builder” by Kazimir Malevich

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To make this world a better place

a-digger-1881(1)

To make this world a better place –
the only thing I have to do.
In bitter hearts to leave a hopeful trace,
To make this world a better place –
This life in full to live, embrace.
Though happy moments, they are so few.
To make this world a better place –
the only thing I have to do.

*Painting “A Digger” by Vincent van Gogh, 1881.

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The best I can do today, I must

the-working-mower-1909

The best I can do today, I must.
For I do not know what tomorrow brings.
Let all my worries into smoke combust;
The best I can do today, I must.
Let all my fears return to dust.
As they are, I take these things.
The best I can do today, I must.
For I do not know what tomorrow brings.

*Painting “The working mower” by Ferdinand Hodler, 1909.

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And then arrived reality

wind-fallen-trees-1887

And then arrived reality.
From deep slumber she disturbed me.
Now I see, there is no god.
Reality is much more odd.

And then arrived reality
in all her beauty and brutality.
I greet her with a hug and kiss.
She smiles and says: what is amiss?

And then arrived reality
reminding me of life’s finality.
She put her hands on my eyes
and said: each life one day dies.

And then arrived reality
coupled with illness and agony.
I cried and prayed: Please go away.
But she replied: I came to stay.

And then arrived reality
without gods and morality.
She doesn’t mind to be ignored.
She walks slow, on her own accord.

And then arrived reality
restoring things to normality.
All fears and hopes she swept away.
I trust in her. Let come what may.

*Painting – “Wind Fallen Trees” by Ivan Shishkin, 1886.

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Be nice and starve an artist

martyr-on-a-circus-ring-1869

Be nice and starve an artist.
His life is meaningless.
On air he should subsist
to maintain his success.

Be nice and slay an angel.
His wings are way too big.
Pave his sacred road to hell
and do not care a fig.

Be nice and fuck a virgin.
Her youth won’t last for long.
Caress her hair and touch her skin.
You can do no wrong.

Be nice and throw a preacher
into a lion’s den.
Let lions be his teacher
and not a crowd of men.

Be nice and burn a Bible.
For drivel it contains.
Why bother with such trifle
that keeps your mind in chains.

Be nice and hang a Jesus
into your living room.
His story never ceases
to inspire grief and gloom.

Be nice and waste this hour
if you want to make some strides.
This world is the will to power
and nothing else besides!

*Painting “Martyr on a circus ring” by Fyodor Bronnikov, 1869.

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