Monthly Archives: March 2010

Modern kïds or salvation for the dämned moldbug style or my friend, can you heart stand the shocking facts about grave röbbers from outer space?

Ok, first we should note that your kindergarten teacher isn’t entirely to be blamed only because she said that you too are a little star and after all we all are little stars, aren’t we? No, not at all, it is only a matter for further amazement and occasion for deeper inquiry that the philosophy of Aleister Crowley should coincide so glaringly with the encouragements of so dear Misses.

Now your life didn’t turn out as expected and you look back trying to find what exactly did go wrong, and,  if you have a keen sense of honesty, which I think you do, you must have reached the conclusion that things have pretty much never gone right actually. No one ever grew up to be an extraordinary accountant. You have been fighting the wrong fight, son. You’ve been fighting Destiny. By Destiny, here, I mean the Anti-Kindergarten-teacher or, if we want to be concise in words, Truth.

We are not, absolutely, talking about Fate or the Zeitgeist. Furthermore we do not, most diligently pressed, dabble in philosophical technicalities such as the Freedom of the Will or the Infinite Regress. We may deal in soteriology though, then again, I may be lying. Pray you forgive my sounding somewhat threatening, it is my job to engage the audience, yours is to exercise thorough scrutiny upon my every reasoning…and fear for your soul, as a general rule I should say.

Let us proceed, then, with our Study in Crimson or the Road to Damascus Method – you may have noticed we tend towards bluish hues, never green and, apparently, Scarlet’s already been taken, like its Victorian predecessor it asserts very basic facts, the first one being your lack of proper attention, you see but you do not observe. You hear but do not listen, Truth’s been talking to you, son. Like its apostolic predecessor it will light you blind.

The first question to be answered is what, if not a little star, is to become of you? It is imperative, if we want to come up with the best answer, that we should conduct an experiment in devastation. What’s going to be destroyed? Nothing worthy luckily. And what’s to endure? That depends on how firmly supported  are the pillars of your mental faculties, you see ours are shaky grounds and Truth is in for the kill, they will have to endure earthquakes.

We have marked, as the very opposite of the extraordinary, as the paragon of the unimaginative, the good profession of accounting. We said, let us remember, that no one ever grew up to be an extraordinary accountant. We should now find a good specimen of the extraordinary and imaginative, say William Shakespeare. Now, did William grew up to be Shakespeare? Unjust! we hear everywhere, Shakespeare is not a profession! No, he is not, but he’ll serve us right, it seems the extraordinary refuses to be referred as a genus, it cries for a real instantiation always. Now, should we oppose Shakespeare to the good Accountant? By no means. What we have to ask is: could Shakespeare grow up to be an accountant?

No, no, little Shakespeare must have had his way with words pretty soon, he might have tried the army, finance, carpentry, even fishing and you and I, certainly, would not have the slightest idea about Stratford-upon-Avon’s existence. Melville tried the fishing, he thought it suited fine, despite all evidences, to call a whale a fish.

You say we obtain our results by use of hindsight. We do. Hindsight is, to the best of our knowledge, 20-20 always. We afford no mistakes, but we are here to help you, remember? and cause some destruction. By the end of the day you too, son, will be a highly trained, highly skilled, oriental master of Hindsight. Alas, some of you will die in the process. No. You won’t.  Hindsight never killed anyone.

The algorithm, if we have to call it something, is very simple.  Do to you, ruthlessly, what we did to Shakespeare. Question  first broadly, later judiciously, your past for things you might have done or for innate mannerisms and odd habits.

Fear not. I have prepared a few questions and examples just to set the ball a-rolling. They will also tell you if you have, by disgraceful inattention, not seen the signals of extraordinarity Destiny has sent you, that’ll hardly be the case. In case of negative answers segue to more down to earth activities until you reach the realms of Accountdom.

1- Nomen est omen: name is destiny, so if you were  christened with such a name as Phileas, Arsene, or Florizel you might expect to live a life of excitement and danger. On the other hand if you happen to have a name as Ford Madox Ford or William Carlos Williams literary glory might be your thing – believe me, I signed once a poem as Edward Arthur Edwards and weren’t for my inability to actually write the poem (I signed the first Canto of Os Lusíadas) I would have won the Jabuti for sure.

2- Le Rouge et le Noir: or tha red and tha black, as my man Stendhal would put it. Red here stands for a military career, now do you hear that? can you smell it? No? Cause it’s the song of nostalgia playing only to the purest of heart, the smell I guess is of gun powder. Nostalgia for what? For a time when soldiers dressed in red! as in the actually brightest possible color one could use in a battle field to aid the enemy in its aiming capacity red!, or in opposition to contemporary pussy camouflage and unmanned planes . So red , here, stands actually for bravery. There is actually a small possibility that you will act bravely in the future, for remember bravery is only shown in action, it is not a static quality, it is not nurtured nor natural to some men and not to others, you only have to ask: do I feel lucky? Now go read your Clausewitz and experience the fog of war.

Le noir, mes amis, le noir, the black here stands as in the much whispered sentence: “Look at that conspiring Jesuit, his soul’s as black as his cassock”. Not to be mistaken for that other relic of protestant hell spawned libel: “the black casuistry of a Jesuit comes in handy sometimes”. What matters is have you heard God’s call, son? cause He may be calling you, right now, to join the ranks of His army to perform some much-needed Counter-reformation around town.

3- The singularity or Virtual reality will rehabilitate your mind and eventually your body. Not. Again: not. Virtual reality will accomplish nothing for you, if anything computers will become sentient and watch some kind of sick fetish porn forever and ever, amen. Read my lips, nerd: Virtual reality will NOT rehabilitate your mind and eventually your body. Chat Roulette is sufficient, albeit not necessary, proof of my last assertion.

4- you must be double-jointed and you must be hungarian: common sense tells you that, despite all that talk about nurture and nature, the right time and the right place may be just as important to elevate your pathetic life to olympian levels of awesomeness. Common sense is right again but, before you start blaming Lady Fortune, I’m bound to tell you that things are even harsher than you might think. You say Bill Shakespeare was gifted and living in Elizabethan times thus naturally and nurturelly (yup, I have just invented that word) became the Elizabethan playwright we all adore, Bill Gates is gifted and living in Luciferian times thus naturally and nurturelly became the softwarewright we all abhor  ergo…ergo nothing, son. Ergo Schmergo. Destiny does not ask, Destiny demands that extreme success will fall upon only a happy few, endowed not only with the highest talent, provided not only with the best education and culture, and blessed not only with the happiest of fortunes but showing a combination of unimaginable amounts of anyone of these traits in what can only be seen as a F*cking joke,  thus often you have to be double jointed and hungarian to just have a chance at the game. Some accounts on the origins of Sufism date the discovery by esoteric mullahs of the Double-jointedhungarianf*ckingjoke just before the appearance of the first historical records of spinning dancing dervishes. Yeah, the game’s been rigged for like…ever.

5- quarta série: I feel somewhat irresponsible for not telling you all about a little caveat of this preaching business of mine. I’ve been all along addressing an audience to which reason and common sense are major components for anything at least resembling a thesis, though I have scattered around some rather paternalistic forms of treatment, in no way I said all these ruminations were directed towards a male-only audience. I feel like I should atone for past sins by finishing my arguments with a bit of co-education. I’m gonna be slightly misogynistic and condescending but only because you like it, all right, pumpkin?

What are exactly the main forces of civilization stability? Either the truth about humanity is known by all and respected by no one or the known truth is somehow theatrically disbelieved by mischievous laws, lies and citizenry. The former case never happened, the latter leaves us with bad faith and its discontents, in the best case scenario we end up with running water and literacy. It is an observation seldom entertained of when exactly does corruption enters society, we all know it happens by the end of fourth grade . By the end of fourth grade the bulk of humanity still holds as truth a very basic assertion: men and women are very different. You see, it is a common belief held by ten-year old boys that girls are soulless creatures of dim intellect. It is also a common belief held by ten-year old girls that no matter what a boy’s intent is he is up to no good. One observes in any civilization ever tried on earth the greatness of mankind  not in its wars, science or arts but in a return to this simple truth repeated time and again: a woman preventing a man from losing his soul, thus acquiring hers in the process. The negation of such truth, never stronger than after centuries of romanticism, puts men as faithful guardians of women’s innocence, but we’re no good and then lose our souls and you are not innocent and never acquire one. It’s Adam and Eve all over again.

Full disclosure points me to another confession, the ways in which my thoughts have wandered during the making of this very essay led to what can be perceived as a lack of unity and apparent contradiction, and do not satisfy even my standards of clarity. The good reader will note, in the end, that the unity is lost only in expression not in content, perhaps like various branches of the same tree may point in very different directions but stray from the same trunk; the contradiction I maintain is apparent only.  The shift from career management to paradise regained is also one of degree. The lies of our Kindergarten are the lies of the Garden, I’m inclined to believe. So as we can say the same thing about truth, If any truth is to be  gained it is to be regained, but we can look ahead now, let us look to future events that will affect us all in the future.

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