Monday, July 17, 2006


My Loves

Probably my favorite show on television is E!'s The Soup. Why? Because nowhere else on television can you regularly see clips of, say, rapper DMX saying things like:
I don't give a fuck how big he is, how small he is. I'll fuck a midget up. Straight up. Straight up. I'll bust a midget's ass.
I, for one, believe him.


Oh, I know. You only come here for this shit. Very well, then, here goes:
Nevertheless - and herein lies the aporia - one cannot at once demand that the intellectuals leave the masses to their untutored, uncritical feelings about things, their unsophisticated, unphilosophical, often quite arbitrary and incoherent emotions, and demand that they be liberated from the `tyranny' of schoolmarms, busybodies, and the other parasites the Derb claims to perceive in their toils for the Culture of Life. Either one will demand, and to some real extent, strive to teach, everyone to think for himself, or one will strive to inculcate in all a reverence for authority as this is embodied in custom, tradition, inherited norms, folkways, the Church, and so on. What one cannot reasonably do is maintain, as the twin poles of a neopagan ethos of nonthought, that people ought not be subjected to the authority of those institutions and persons who have been the embodiments of wisdom in a culture, and must be left to the imagined sanctity of their utterly untutored, unelevated, wo wo wo feelings. Men must either think for themselves, and that deeply, to the depths - and conservatives have always been sceptical of both the process and the results of this - or they must yield, even bow, before some authority; but what they cannot do - what they should not attempt, for it is the peril of any civilization - is to wall themselves within their uncultivated feelings and urges, refusing to think about them save in some narrow, unspecifiable sense, and within some undefined limits, while repudiating the wisdom of those who may have, of whatever origins, some superior insight into the matters on which they are content merely to ejaculate their ignorance, as though feeling something intensely were equivalent to either thought or knowledge, however obtained.
Therein lies the FUCKING APORIA, MOTHERFUCKER. Motherfucking jackanapes. Go ejaculate your feelings elsewhither before the bugbear of the escutcheon masticates your spondee, you.

Wo wo wo, Ichabod.

Holy shit.

It's worse then the "class notes."
i wrote a poem about clipper ships once.
Alguno madre got all up een hees thesaurus, yo.

Somewhere, een the next world, John Kennedy Toole becomes restless, and murmurs "Not now, Ignatius."

That's mindboggling.

But then, I find myself in utter vile thrall to the dark coils of the endless inward outpouchings of nihilistic nothingness, wherein the reptile solipsism of those who arrantly decline to encompass the puissant necessity of the Culture of Life has seeped like that deadly sap that leaches from the murdered corpse of thought into the cold and unnurturing soil of the sheer unalloyed nullity that so markedly defines the thinking of those who have so far forgotten the dictates of reason and rational humanity as to willingly style themselves "leftists," in childish defiance of posterity's rightful aspersions.
I've figured it out: unless he writes that way you won't be able to picture him gesticulating with a pipe.
the consequence, though, the inevitable, perhaps even ineluctable and certainly dolorous consequence of your continued jibs and jibes pinpricking the tender surface of his prose will certainly be him reaching down past the tense, yet when necessary flexible and servile elastic of his undergarments, grasping the manly organ others have initmated is the true source of his nom de plume, drawing it forth rapidly, as if he were a crusader drawing his noble cruciform blade in defense of the holy land, and striking you, vigorously, across your jowls which will be offered no protection by your insolent countenance.

vigorously. twice.
I'm all about the aporia.
I want a midget to fuck him up. Fuck him up real good.
Yeah me too, plus I laughed out loud, day's not a total wash. Amusing how these prigs with their ten dollar words seem to believe their own "knowledge" is attained by rational means. All that fancy education in the service of compensation, tsk.
I'm all about the aporia.

Oh, me too. Deeply, to the depths. And also highly, to the heights.
Holey moley.
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