Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.
 

Is there any hope left......

Expand Messages
  • Ehab Shoubaki
    is there an escape from selfishness? can exhaling and inhaling be forgettable. can happiness be as sweet as an everlasting moment , an infinity in the now. or
    Message 1 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
      is there an escape from selfishness?

      can exhaling and inhaling be forgettable.

      can happiness be as sweet as an everlasting moment , an infinity in the
      now.

      or can doors open into dreamy oblivion.

      yearning towards an exit , any exit.

      There is only birth and destruction , there are no exits , non at all.

      or could it be my last illusion ? that there is NO EXIT.

      Tired , I lay down into my chores. never dreaming , never hoping , never
      being more than I am.

      Is there any hope left ?

      ehab
    • Bob Keyes
      I will give a stab of first impressions of your questions. Bob...Comments Below. ... From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
      Message 2 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
        I will give a stab of first impressions of your questions.
        Bob...Comments Below.

        -----Original Message-----
        From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
        Behalf Of Ehab Shoubaki
        Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2005 10:29 PM
        To: existlist
        Subject: [existlist] Is there any hope left......


        is there an escape from selfishness?


        Bob... It can be diminished (or increased) but it can never be eliminated.





        can exhaling and inhaling be forgettable.


        Bob. Yes, I forget it most of the time. But if your lungs are in Pain you
        notice it.



        can happiness be as sweet as an everlasting moment , an infinity in the
        now.


        Bob. No. Be happy if you have an infinity moment of happiness.




        or can doors open into dreamy oblivion.

        Bob. No idea what you are talking about.


        yearning towards an exit , any exit.

        Bob. No idea what you are talking about.

        There is only birth and destruction , there are no exits , non at all.

        or could it be my last illusion ? that there is NO EXIT.

        Tired , I lay down into my chores. never dreaming , never hoping , never
        being more than I am.

        Is there any hope left ?


        Bob. You can look at things any way you like. You act as if there is some
        fundamental way that is correct. If Evolution is true you are an accident,
        Either Accept and be happy or Don't, Evolution does not Care, and your
        Feelings are no more fundamental that some nut in one flew over the cookooes
        nest. (a movie of a mental institution). Are you looking for counseling.
        Ignore, everything I wrote, I am not in my right mind since I will be on
        vacation for 2 weeks very soon....







        ehab


        Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!

        Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
        Yahoo! Groups Links
      • George Walton
        Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair: When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious, social, and so on---no longer guide one s life, how can
        Message 3 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
          Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:

          "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious, social, and so on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with the absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which does not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life."



          The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some through circuitous close encounters with all manner of received wisdom and in the end deposit them instead into an intellectual wasteland that engenders a feeling of being profoundly disconnected from all the great thoughts of all the great minds.

          What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the great ideas floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty world you actually live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim was quite the opposite. The aim was by and large to take you out of the cave altogether...out into the blinding light of Truth.

          The blinding light of....The Word.

          The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it will rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is either/or. Ambiguity is the ticket. It discards either/or and instead suggests another way: neither/nor.

          Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and bounds. And that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always feel compelled to follow the stright and narrow path of self-righteousness. They are slaves to The Word.

          And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential despair there are always distractions to divert you---love and sex and sports and entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically endless. The illusion becomes real because you are able to trick yourself psychologically by falling into them.

          Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point where you want to die.

          Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack. There are few distractions that work when the doc tells you the tumor is inoperable. Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and its about to end. Then you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant [and so many others] with philosophy or religion.

          I wonder how they do that.

          george



          ---------------------------------
          Yahoo! Sports
          Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football

          [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
        • Bob Keyes
          Fear of Death for Sure is a Factor in why they do that. Why they Fear Death is Biological( Speculation of course) Bob... ... From: existlist@yahoogroups.com
          Message 4 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
            Fear of Death for Sure is a Factor in why they do that.
            Why they Fear Death is Biological( Speculation of course)
            Bob...



            -----Original Message-----
            From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
            Behalf Of George Walton
            Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2005 11:00 PM
            To: existlist@yahoogroups.com
            Subject: RE: [existlist] the absurd



            Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:

            "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious, social, and so
            on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain life without succumbing
            to nothingness? Only by a connection with the absurd, by love of absolute
            uselessness, loving something which does not have substance but which
            simulates an illusion of life."



            The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some through
            circuitous close encounters with all manner of received wisdom and in the
            end deposit them instead into an intellectual wasteland that engenders a
            feeling of being profoundly disconnected from all the great thoughts of all
            the great minds.

            What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the great ideas
            floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty world you actually
            live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim was quite the opposite.
            The aim was by and large to take you out of the cave altogether...out into
            the blinding light of Truth.

            The blinding light of....The Word.

            The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it will
            rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is either/or. Ambiguity
            is the ticket. It discards either/or and instead suggests another way:
            neither/nor.

            Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and bounds. And
            that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always feel compelled to
            follow the stright and narrow path of self-righteousness. They are slaves to
            The Word.

            And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential despair there are
            always distractions to divert you---love and sex and sports and
            entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically endless. The
            illusion becomes real because you are able to trick yourself psychologically
            by falling into them.

            Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point where you
            want to die.

            Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack. There are
            few distractions that work when the doc tells you the tumor is inoperable.
            Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and its about to end. Then
            you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant [and so many others] with
            philosophy or religion.

            I wonder how they do that.

            george



            ---------------------------------
            Yahoo! Sports
            Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football

            [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



            Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!

            Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
            Yahoo! Groups Links
          • Ehab Shoubaki
            Bob, How very rational of you , I m normally rational , but don t trout wisper in your ears sometimes and give you unpleasant dreams ? my questions were not
            Message 5 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
              Bob,

              How very rational of you , I'm normally rational ,

              but don't trout wisper in your ears sometimes and give you unpleasant
              dreams ?

              my questions were not meant to be answered , the prospect of answering
              them is horrid , probably they should be pacified till tommorows' sun
              shines anew.

              pacified till life and dreams dissolve away into what lies ahead.

              ehab


              On Thu, 30 Jun 2005 22:56:01 -0400, "Bob Keyes" <rlk@...>
              said:
              > I will give a stab of first impressions of your questions.
              > Bob...Comments Below.
              >
              > -----Original Message-----
              > From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
              > Behalf Of Ehab Shoubaki
              > Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2005 10:29 PM
              > To: existlist
              > Subject: [existlist] Is there any hope left......
              >
              >
              > is there an escape from selfishness?
              >
              >
              > Bob... It can be diminished (or increased) but it can never be
              > eliminated.
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > can exhaling and inhaling be forgettable.
              >
              >
              > Bob. Yes, I forget it most of the time. But if your lungs are in Pain you
              > notice it.
              >
              >
              >
              > can happiness be as sweet as an everlasting moment , an infinity in the
              > now.
              >
              >
              > Bob. No. Be happy if you have an infinity moment of happiness.
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > or can doors open into dreamy oblivion.
              >
              > Bob. No idea what you are talking about.
              >
              >
              > yearning towards an exit , any exit.
              >
              > Bob. No idea what you are talking about.
              >
              > There is only birth and destruction , there are no exits , non at all.
              >
              > or could it be my last illusion ? that there is NO EXIT.
              >
              > Tired , I lay down into my chores. never dreaming , never hoping , never
              > being more than I am.
              >
              > Is there any hope left ?
              >
              >
              > Bob. You can look at things any way you like. You act as if there is some
              > fundamental way that is correct. If Evolution is true you are an
              > accident,
              > Either Accept and be happy or Don't, Evolution does not Care, and your
              > Feelings are no more fundamental that some nut in one flew over the
              > cookooes
              > nest. (a movie of a mental institution). Are you looking for counseling.
              > Ignore, everything I wrote, I am not in my right mind since I will be on
              > vacation for 2 weeks very soon....
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > ehab
              >
              >
              > Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!
              >
              > Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
              > Yahoo! Groups Links
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!
              >
              > Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
              > Yahoo! Groups Links
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
            • Bob Keyes
              Horrid ? So they are not meant to be answered ? Get Real. And I get Nightmares but tend to like them. ( I defined them a sweaty death scenes). I think it is
              Message 6 of 11 , Jun 30, 2005
                Horrid ? So they are not meant to be answered ? Get Real.
                And I get Nightmares but tend to like them. ( I defined them a sweaty death
                scenes). I think it is fun to wake up and find out you are dreaming. Like
                you lived a non reality for real. (Only case I know of Non Reality near
                seeming like Reality)
                Bob....

                -----Original Message-----
                From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
                Behalf Of Ehab Shoubaki
                Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2005 11:21 PM
                To: existlist
                Subject: RE: [existlist] Is there any hope left......


                Bob,

                How very rational of you , I'm normally rational ,

                but don't trout wisper in your ears sometimes and give you unpleasant
                dreams ?

                my questions were not meant to be answered , the prospect of answering
                them is horrid , probably they should be pacified till tommorows' sun
                shines anew.

                pacified till life and dreams dissolve away into what lies ahead.

                ehab


                On Thu, 30 Jun 2005 22:56:01 -0400, "Bob Keyes" <rlk@...>
                said:
                > I will give a stab of first impressions of your questions.
                > Bob...Comments Below.
                >
                > -----Original Message-----
                > From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com]On
                > Behalf Of Ehab Shoubaki
                > Sent: Thursday, June 30, 2005 10:29 PM
                > To: existlist
                > Subject: [existlist] Is there any hope left......
                >
                >
                > is there an escape from selfishness?
                >
                >
                > Bob... It can be diminished (or increased) but it can never be
                > eliminated.
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                > can exhaling and inhaling be forgettable.
                >
                >
                > Bob. Yes, I forget it most of the time. But if your lungs are in Pain you
                > notice it.
                >
                >
                >
                > can happiness be as sweet as an everlasting moment , an infinity in the
                > now.
                >
                >
                > Bob. No. Be happy if you have an infinity moment of happiness.
                >
                >
                >
                >
                > or can doors open into dreamy oblivion.
                >
                > Bob. No idea what you are talking about.
                >
                >
                > yearning towards an exit , any exit.
                >
                > Bob. No idea what you are talking about.
                >
                > There is only birth and destruction , there are no exits , non at all.
                >
                > or could it be my last illusion ? that there is NO EXIT.
                >
                > Tired , I lay down into my chores. never dreaming , never hoping , never
                > being more than I am.
                >
                > Is there any hope left ?
                >
                >
                > Bob. You can look at things any way you like. You act as if there is some
                > fundamental way that is correct. If Evolution is true you are an
                > accident,
                > Either Accept and be happy or Don't, Evolution does not Care, and your
                > Feelings are no more fundamental that some nut in one flew over the
                > cookooes
                > nest. (a movie of a mental institution). Are you looking for counseling.
                > Ignore, everything I wrote, I am not in my right mind since I will be on
                > vacation for 2 weeks very soon....
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                > ehab
                >
                >
                > Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!
                >
                > Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
                > Yahoo! Groups Links
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                > Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!
                >
                > Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
                > Yahoo! Groups Links
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >
                >


                Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!

                Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
                Yahoo! Groups Links
              • Mary Jo Malo
                It s all life, George. Either/or and neither/nor. The diversions are life. The absurd is life. We really don t need philosophy or religion or very many words;
                Message 7 of 11 , Jul 1, 2005
                  It's all life, George. Either/or and neither/nor. The diversions are
                  life. The absurd is life. We really don't need philosophy or religion
                  or very many words; we just like them for whatever reason. As you
                  know I enjoy Camus' take on the absurd. He had a disease (TB) for
                  which there was no cure but died an accidental car death. For me what
                  he expressed in his writing was that life itself was a hope, that
                  there could be more life. What's more absurd than that? We have to
                  face the fact of death alone and die our death alone. No one can do
                  it for us or reason it away. All the company that we keep can't stay
                  that death from us. I recently finished Camus' "Exile and the
                  Kingdom" and especially enjoyed the story, "The Artist at Work" as a
                  wonderful expression of the absurd. I found his character Jonas to be
                  a more poignant, gentle discoverer of the absurd, not as cowardly and
                  calculating as Clamence (The Fall) or as cold and indifferent as
                  Meursault (The Stranger). Mary

                  Darkness at the break of noon
                  Shadows even the silver spoon
                  The handmade blade, the child's balloon
                  Eclipses both the sun and moon
                  To understand you know too soon
                  There is no sense in trying.

                  Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
                  Suicide remarks are torn
                  From the fools gold mouthpiece
                  The hollow horn plays wasted words
                  Proved to warn
                  That he not busy being born
                  Is busy dying.

                  Temptation's page flies out the door
                  You follow, find yourself at war
                  Watch waterfalls of pity roar
                  You feel to moan but unlike before
                  You discover
                  That you'd just be
                  One more person crying.

                  So don't fear if you hear
                  A foreign sound to you ear
                  It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.

                  As some warn victory, some downfall
                  Private reasons great or small
                  Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
                  To make all that should be killed to crawl
                  While others say don't hate nothing at all
                  Except hatred.

                  Disillusioned words like bullets bark
                  As human gods aim for their marks
                  Made everything from toy guns that sparks
                  To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
                  It's easy to see without looking too far
                  That not much
                  Is really sacred.

                  While preachers preach of evil fates
                  Teachers teach that knowledge waits
                  Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
                  Goodness hides behind its gates
                  But even the President of the United States
                  Sometimes must have
                  To stand naked.

                  An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
                  It's only people's games that you got to dodge
                  And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.

                  Advertising signs that con you
                  Into thinking you're the one
                  That can do what's never been done
                  That can win what's never been won
                  Meantime life outside goes on
                  All around you.

                  You loose yourself, you reappear
                  You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
                  Alone you stand without nobody near
                  When a trembling distant voice, unclear
                  Startles your sleeping ears to hear
                  That somebody thinks
                  They really found you.

                  A question in your nerves is lit
                  Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
                  Insure you not to quit
                  To keep it in your mind and not forget
                  That it is not he or she or them or it
                  That you belong to.

                  Although the masters make the rules
                  For the wise men and the fools
                  I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

                  For them that must obey authority
                  That they do not respect in any degree
                  Who despite their jobs, their destinies
                  Speak jealously of them that are free
                  Cultivate their flowers to be
                  Nothing more than something
                  They invest in.

                  While some on principles baptized
                  To strict party platforms ties
                  Social clubs in drag disguise
                  Outsiders they can freely criticize
                  Tell nothing except who to idolize
                  And then say God Bless him.

                  While one who sings with his tongue on fire
                  Gargles in the rat race choir
                  Bent out of shape from society's pliers
                  Cares not to come up any higher
                  But rather get you down in the hole
                  That he's in.

                  But I mean no harm nor put fault
                  On anyone that lives in a vault
                  But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.

                  Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
                  Limited in sex, they dare
                  To push fake morals, insult and stare
                  While money doesn't talk, it swears
                  Obscenity, who really cares
                  Propaganda, all is phony.

                  While them that defend what they cannot see
                  With a killer's pride, security
                  It blows the minds most bitterly
                  For them that think death's honesty
                  Won't fall upon them naturally
                  Life sometimes
                  Must get lonely.

                  My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
                  False gods, I scuff
                  At pettiness which plays so rough
                  Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
                  Kick my legs to crash it off
                  Say okay, I have had enough
                  What else can you show me ?

                  And if my thought-dreams could been seen
                  They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
                  But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.

                  Bob Dylan
                  It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)



                  --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, George Walton <iambiguously@y...>
                  wrote:
                  >
                  > Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:
                  >
                  > "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious,
                  social, and so on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain
                  life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with the
                  absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which does
                  not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life."
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  > The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some
                  through circuitous close encounters with all manner of received
                  wisdom and in the end deposit them instead into an intellectual
                  wasteland that engenders a feeling of being profoundly disconnected
                  from all the great thoughts of all the great minds.
                  >
                  > What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the great
                  ideas floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty world
                  you actually live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim was
                  quite the opposite. The aim was by and large to take you out of the
                  cave altogether...out into the blinding light of Truth.
                  >
                  > The blinding light of....The Word.
                  >
                  > The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it
                  will rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is
                  either/or. Ambiguity is the ticket. It discards either/or and instead
                  suggests another way: neither/nor.
                  >
                  > Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and
                  bounds. And that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always feel
                  compelled to follow the stright and narrow path of self-
                  righteousness. They are slaves to The Word.
                  >
                  > And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential despair
                  there are always distractions to divert you---love and sex and sports
                  and entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically
                  endless. The illusion becomes real because you are able to trick
                  yourself psychologically by falling into them.
                  >
                  > Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point
                  where you want to die.
                  >
                  > Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack.
                  There are few distractions that work when the doc tells you the tumor
                  is inoperable. Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and
                  its about to end. Then you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant
                  [and so many others] with philosophy or religion.
                  >
                  > I wonder how they do that.
                  >
                  > george
                  >
                  >
                  >
                  > ---------------------------------
                  > Yahoo! Sports
                  > Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football
                  >
                  > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                • George Walton
                  Living is not about what we know, of course, because there is very little we can know [philosophically] regarding our evalutions and judgments of human
                  Message 8 of 11 , Jul 1, 2005
                    Living is not about what we know, of course, because there is very little we can know [philosophically] regarding our evalutions and judgments of human behavior. Instead it is about how we interpret what we think we know. And then, in turn, in how others evaluate and judge that.

                    The absurd allows you to interpret human behavior in any number of ways. And with no final arbiter to be found we have to live with the consequences of that.

                    Sometimes [in particular personalities embedded in particular circumstances] it makes sense to say, "it's all right Ma, it's life and life only". But for other personalities embedded in other sets of circumstances that frame of reference seems quite preposterous.

                    The world depicted in Sophie's Choice leaps to mind.

                    I can think of only two reactions that make sense---fighting back or clinging all the more to the distractions. Fighting back revolves around the relationship between rage and fear. You are enraged at what the thugs do in this world but you are fearful that if you do fight back they will do the same thing to you. And they have the power----the wealth and the armies and the guns and the bombs. And you have your moral outrage.

                    So you distract yourself from having to make the committment. And then you live with it. Because, you tell yourself, it really is ultimately futile no mattter what you do.

                    In many profound ways this is an appallingly shitty world. You either come to understand that or you don't.

                    I loved Camus as well. And he chose to fight back, of course. Perhaps that was his distraction of choice. But he is gone forever and soon you and I will be gone forever too. Is there any reaction to that which makes any more sense than any other reaction?

                    The more you think about it the more you come to understand there has got to be better things to do. And look around you. Again, the list is endless.

                    Which, of course, doesn't really explain what the hell I am doing in here pointing it out over and over again. But then I have never understood myself. And I think I cling to existential philosophy because it is the closest thing I have ever come to to understanding why I probably never will.

                    That's a comfort of sorts. If you know what I mean.



                    g.


                    Mary Jo Malo <maryjomalo@...> wrote:
                    It's all life, George. Either/or and neither/nor. The diversions are
                    life. The absurd is life. We really don't need philosophy or religion
                    or very many words; we just like them for whatever reason. As you
                    know I enjoy Camus' take on the absurd. He had a disease (TB) for
                    which there was no cure but died an accidental car death. For me what
                    he expressed in his writing was that life itself was a hope, that
                    there could be more life. What's more absurd than that? We have to
                    face the fact of death alone and die our death alone. No one can do
                    it for us or reason it away. All the company that we keep can't stay
                    that death from us. I recently finished Camus' "Exile and the
                    Kingdom" and especially enjoyed the story, "The Artist at Work" as a
                    wonderful expression of the absurd. I found his character Jonas to be
                    a more poignant, gentle discoverer of the absurd, not as cowardly and
                    calculating as Clamence (The Fall) or as cold and indifferent as
                    Meursault (The Stranger). Mary

                    Darkness at the break of noon
                    Shadows even the silver spoon
                    The handmade blade, the child's balloon
                    Eclipses both the sun and moon
                    To understand you know too soon
                    There is no sense in trying.

                    Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
                    Suicide remarks are torn
                    From the fools gold mouthpiece
                    The hollow horn plays wasted words
                    Proved to warn
                    That he not busy being born
                    Is busy dying.

                    Temptation's page flies out the door
                    You follow, find yourself at war
                    Watch waterfalls of pity roar
                    You feel to moan but unlike before
                    You discover
                    That you'd just be
                    One more person crying.

                    So don't fear if you hear
                    A foreign sound to you ear
                    It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.

                    As some warn victory, some downfall
                    Private reasons great or small
                    Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
                    To make all that should be killed to crawl
                    While others say don't hate nothing at all
                    Except hatred.

                    Disillusioned words like bullets bark
                    As human gods aim for their marks
                    Made everything from toy guns that sparks
                    To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
                    It's easy to see without looking too far
                    That not much
                    Is really sacred.

                    While preachers preach of evil fates
                    Teachers teach that knowledge waits
                    Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
                    Goodness hides behind its gates
                    But even the President of the United States
                    Sometimes must have
                    To stand naked.

                    An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
                    It's only people's games that you got to dodge
                    And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.

                    Advertising signs that con you
                    Into thinking you're the one
                    That can do what's never been done
                    That can win what's never been won
                    Meantime life outside goes on
                    All around you.

                    You loose yourself, you reappear
                    You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
                    Alone you stand without nobody near
                    When a trembling distant voice, unclear
                    Startles your sleeping ears to hear
                    That somebody thinks
                    They really found you.

                    A question in your nerves is lit
                    Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
                    Insure you not to quit
                    To keep it in your mind and not forget
                    That it is not he or she or them or it
                    That you belong to.

                    Although the masters make the rules
                    For the wise men and the fools
                    I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

                    For them that must obey authority
                    That they do not respect in any degree
                    Who despite their jobs, their destinies
                    Speak jealously of them that are free
                    Cultivate their flowers to be
                    Nothing more than something
                    They invest in.

                    While some on principles baptized
                    To strict party platforms ties
                    Social clubs in drag disguise
                    Outsiders they can freely criticize
                    Tell nothing except who to idolize
                    And then say God Bless him.

                    While one who sings with his tongue on fire
                    Gargles in the rat race choir
                    Bent out of shape from society's pliers
                    Cares not to come up any higher
                    But rather get you down in the hole
                    That he's in.

                    But I mean no harm nor put fault
                    On anyone that lives in a vault
                    But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.

                    Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
                    Limited in sex, they dare
                    To push fake morals, insult and stare
                    While money doesn't talk, it swears
                    Obscenity, who really cares
                    Propaganda, all is phony.

                    While them that defend what they cannot see
                    With a killer's pride, security
                    It blows the minds most bitterly
                    For them that think death's honesty
                    Won't fall upon them naturally
                    Life sometimes
                    Must get lonely.

                    My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
                    False gods, I scuff
                    At pettiness which plays so rough
                    Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
                    Kick my legs to crash it off
                    Say okay, I have had enough
                    What else can you show me ?

                    And if my thought-dreams could been seen
                    They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
                    But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.

                    Bob Dylan
                    It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)



                    --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, George Walton <iambiguously@y...>
                    wrote:
                    >
                    > Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:
                    >
                    > "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious,
                    social, and so on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain
                    life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with the
                    absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which does
                    not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life."
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    > The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some
                    through circuitous close encounters with all manner of received
                    wisdom and in the end deposit them instead into an intellectual
                    wasteland that engenders a feeling of being profoundly disconnected
                    from all the great thoughts of all the great minds.
                    >
                    > What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the great
                    ideas floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty world
                    you actually live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim was
                    quite the opposite. The aim was by and large to take you out of the
                    cave altogether...out into the blinding light of Truth.
                    >
                    > The blinding light of....The Word.
                    >
                    > The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it
                    will rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is
                    either/or. Ambiguity is the ticket. It discards either/or and instead
                    suggests another way: neither/nor.
                    >
                    > Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and
                    bounds. And that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always feel
                    compelled to follow the stright and narrow path of self-
                    righteousness. They are slaves to The Word.
                    >
                    > And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential despair
                    there are always distractions to divert you---love and sex and sports
                    and entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically
                    endless. The illusion becomes real because you are able to trick
                    yourself psychologically by falling into them.
                    >
                    > Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point
                    where you want to die.
                    >
                    > Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack.
                    There are few distractions that work when the doc tells you the tumor
                    is inoperable. Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and
                    its about to end. Then you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant
                    [and so many others] with philosophy or religion.
                    >
                    > I wonder how they do that.
                    >
                    > george
                    >
                    >
                    >
                    > ---------------------------------
                    > Yahoo! Sports
                    > Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football
                    >
                    > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]




                    Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining nothing!

                    Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist



                    ---------------------------------
                    YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS


                    Visit your group "existlist" on the web.

                    To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
                    existlist-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com

                    Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.


                    ---------------------------------



                    __________________________________________________
                    Do You Yahoo!?
                    Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
                    http://mail.yahoo.com

                    [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                  • Aija Veldre Beldavs
                    ... yes, hardwired fear of death/oblivion/the end implies there is an opposite alternative - immortality or transformation out of the present state into
                    Message 9 of 11 , Jul 1, 2005
                      > Fear of Death for Sure is a Factor in why they do that.
                      > Why they Fear Death is Biological( Speculation of course)
                      > Bob...

                      > Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:
                      > "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious, social, and so
                      > on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain life without succumbing
                      > to nothingness? Only by a connection with the absurd, by love of absolute
                      > uselessness, loving something which does not have substance but which
                      > simulates an illusion of life."

                      > Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and its about to end. Then
                      > you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant [and so many others] with
                      > philosophy or religion.
                      > george

                      yes, hardwired fear of death/oblivion/the end implies there is an opposite
                      alternative - immortality or transformation out of the present state into
                      another, an ongoing process. the truth of the second is speculation,
                      inference, belief.

                      what's wrong with working with what life one has, the only one that is
                      important right now?

                      i happen to get more of a sense of empowerement & satisfaction by doing
                      some small thing that makes a big difference to someone else than by
                      pushing someone around or beating him up & i'm a physical person, former
                      athlete, who enjoys limited conflict, challenge, the excitement of the
                      chase as long as they are games & roleplaying & sports, not bloodletting
                      for real, making others suffer for real, war, which is a game only to the
                      seriously deluded, the very young, or those who have a more
                      testosterone-befuddled mind than is good for the survival of humanity.

                      people have a choice to play games or not and they know the rules, but
                      most people are unwilling participants & victims of war, which mostly is
                      deficient on reasonable rules, frequently falls into anything goes, and
                      generally makes no sense. most people would like a less destructive way
                      of solving problems. if a critical number of nations & peoples would try
                      harder to solve the problems of energy and resource division without war,
                      it is scientifically possible.

                      btw if you've seen it, what do you think of the Japanese movie Battle
                      Royale?

                      aija
                    • Jeffrey Tate
                      George, you say I can think of only two reactions that make sense---fighting back or clinging all the more to the distractions. Fighting back revolves around
                      Message 10 of 11 , Jul 1, 2005
                        George, you say "I can think of only two reactions that make
                        sense---fighting back or clinging all the more to the distractions.
                        Fighting back revolves around the relationship between rage and fear.
                        You are enraged at what the thugs do in this world but you are fearful
                        that if you do fight back they will do the same thing to you. And they
                        have the power----the wealth and the armies and the guns and the bombs.
                        And you have your moral outrage."

                        I don't quite get it; why is seeing the world in terms of victim or
                        victimizer the only option? Sure, there are victims and victimizers in
                        this world. There are also friends, lovers, family members who care
                        about me, co-workers I enjoy working with, golf and poker buddies I have
                        a great time with, a profession I enjoy studying and using to help
                        others (and getting paid for same), etc.

                        I'm sorry about the victims and victimizers in the world. But that's not
                        the focus of my world. Does that mean that I'm using distractions to
                        avoid the True Issues of existence? What makes the victim-victimizers
                        (or the issue of my own death, or the issue of the ultimate impermanence
                        of everything) most genuine?

                        Jeff


                        -----Original Message-----
                        From: existlist@yahoogroups.com [mailto:existlist@yahoogroups.com] On
                        Behalf Of George Walton
                        Sent: Friday, July 01, 2005 9:41 AM
                        To: existlist@yahoogroups.com
                        Subject: Re: [existlist] Re: the absurd


                        Living is not about what we know, of course, because there is very
                        little we can know [philosophically] regarding our evalutions and
                        judgments of human behavior. Instead it is about how we interpret what
                        we think we know. And then, in turn, in how others evaluate and judge
                        that.

                        The absurd allows you to interpret human behavior in any number of ways.
                        And with no final arbiter to be found we have to live with the
                        consequences of that.

                        Sometimes [in particular personalities embedded in particular
                        circumstances] it makes sense to say, "it's all right Ma, it's life and
                        life only". But for other personalities embedded in other sets of
                        circumstances that frame of reference seems quite preposterous.

                        The world depicted in Sophie's Choice leaps to mind.

                        I can think of only two reactions that make sense---fighting back or
                        clinging all the more to the distractions. Fighting back revolves
                        around the relationship between rage and fear. You are enraged at what
                        the thugs do in this world but you are fearful that if you do fight back
                        they will do the same thing to you. And they have the power----the
                        wealth and the armies and the guns and the bombs. And you have your
                        moral outrage.

                        So you distract yourself from having to make the committment. And then
                        you live with it. Because, you tell yourself, it really is ultimately
                        futile no mattter what you do.

                        In many profound ways this is an appallingly shitty world. You either
                        come to understand that or you don't.

                        I loved Camus as well. And he chose to fight back, of course. Perhaps
                        that was his distraction of choice. But he is gone forever and soon you
                        and I will be gone forever too. Is there any reaction to that which
                        makes any more sense than any other reaction?

                        The more you think about it the more you come to understand there has
                        got to be better things to do. And look around you. Again, the list is
                        endless.

                        Which, of course, doesn't really explain what the hell I am doing in
                        here pointing it out over and over again. But then I have never
                        understood myself. And I think I cling to existential philosophy because
                        it is the closest thing I have ever come to to understanding why I
                        probably never will.

                        That's a comfort of sorts. If you know what I mean.



                        g.


                        Mary Jo Malo <maryjomalo@...> wrote:
                        It's all life, George. Either/or and neither/nor. The diversions are
                        life. The absurd is life. We really don't need philosophy or religion
                        or very many words; we just like them for whatever reason. As you
                        know I enjoy Camus' take on the absurd. He had a disease (TB) for
                        which there was no cure but died an accidental car death. For me what
                        he expressed in his writing was that life itself was a hope, that
                        there could be more life. What's more absurd than that? We have to
                        face the fact of death alone and die our death alone. No one can do
                        it for us or reason it away. All the company that we keep can't stay
                        that death from us. I recently finished Camus' "Exile and the
                        Kingdom" and especially enjoyed the story, "The Artist at Work" as a
                        wonderful expression of the absurd. I found his character Jonas to be
                        a more poignant, gentle discoverer of the absurd, not as cowardly and
                        calculating as Clamence (The Fall) or as cold and indifferent as
                        Meursault (The Stranger). Mary

                        Darkness at the break of noon
                        Shadows even the silver spoon
                        The handmade blade, the child's balloon
                        Eclipses both the sun and moon
                        To understand you know too soon
                        There is no sense in trying.

                        Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
                        Suicide remarks are torn
                        >From the fools gold mouthpiece
                        The hollow horn plays wasted words
                        Proved to warn
                        That he not busy being born
                        Is busy dying.

                        Temptation's page flies out the door
                        You follow, find yourself at war
                        Watch waterfalls of pity roar
                        You feel to moan but unlike before
                        You discover
                        That you'd just be
                        One more person crying.

                        So don't fear if you hear
                        A foreign sound to you ear
                        It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.

                        As some warn victory, some downfall
                        Private reasons great or small
                        Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
                        To make all that should be killed to crawl
                        While others say don't hate nothing at all
                        Except hatred.

                        Disillusioned words like bullets bark
                        As human gods aim for their marks
                        Made everything from toy guns that sparks
                        To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
                        It's easy to see without looking too far
                        That not much
                        Is really sacred.

                        While preachers preach of evil fates
                        Teachers teach that knowledge waits
                        Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
                        Goodness hides behind its gates
                        But even the President of the United States
                        Sometimes must have
                        To stand naked.

                        An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
                        It's only people's games that you got to dodge
                        And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.

                        Advertising signs that con you
                        Into thinking you're the one
                        That can do what's never been done
                        That can win what's never been won
                        Meantime life outside goes on
                        All around you.

                        You loose yourself, you reappear
                        You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
                        Alone you stand without nobody near
                        When a trembling distant voice, unclear
                        Startles your sleeping ears to hear
                        That somebody thinks
                        They really found you.

                        A question in your nerves is lit
                        Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
                        Insure you not to quit
                        To keep it in your mind and not forget
                        That it is not he or she or them or it
                        That you belong to.

                        Although the masters make the rules
                        For the wise men and the fools
                        I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

                        For them that must obey authority
                        That they do not respect in any degree
                        Who despite their jobs, their destinies
                        Speak jealously of them that are free
                        Cultivate their flowers to be
                        Nothing more than something
                        They invest in.

                        While some on principles baptized
                        To strict party platforms ties
                        Social clubs in drag disguise
                        Outsiders they can freely criticize
                        Tell nothing except who to idolize
                        And then say God Bless him.

                        While one who sings with his tongue on fire
                        Gargles in the rat race choir
                        Bent out of shape from society's pliers
                        Cares not to come up any higher
                        But rather get you down in the hole
                        That he's in.

                        But I mean no harm nor put fault
                        On anyone that lives in a vault
                        But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.

                        Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
                        Limited in sex, they dare
                        To push fake morals, insult and stare
                        While money doesn't talk, it swears
                        Obscenity, who really cares
                        Propaganda, all is phony.

                        While them that defend what they cannot see
                        With a killer's pride, security
                        It blows the minds most bitterly
                        For them that think death's honesty
                        Won't fall upon them naturally
                        Life sometimes
                        Must get lonely.

                        My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
                        False gods, I scuff
                        At pettiness which plays so rough
                        Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
                        Kick my legs to crash it off
                        Say okay, I have had enough
                        What else can you show me ?

                        And if my thought-dreams could been seen
                        They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
                        But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.

                        Bob Dylan
                        It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)



                        --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, George Walton <iambiguously@y...>
                        wrote:
                        >
                        > Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:
                        >
                        > "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious,
                        social, and so on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain
                        life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with the
                        absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which does
                        not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life."
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        > The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some
                        through circuitous close encounters with all manner of received
                        wisdom and in the end deposit them instead into an intellectual
                        wasteland that engenders a feeling of being profoundly disconnected
                        from all the great thoughts of all the great minds.
                        >
                        > What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the great
                        ideas floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty world
                        you actually live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim was
                        quite the opposite. The aim was by and large to take you out of the
                        cave altogether...out into the blinding light of Truth.
                        >
                        > The blinding light of....The Word.
                        >
                        > The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it
                        will rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is
                        either/or. Ambiguity is the ticket. It discards either/or and instead
                        suggests another way: neither/nor.
                        >
                        > Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and
                        bounds. And that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always feel
                        compelled to follow the stright and narrow path of self-
                        righteousness. They are slaves to The Word.
                        >
                        > And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential despair
                        there are always distractions to divert you---love and sex and sports
                        and entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically
                        endless. The illusion becomes real because you are able to trick
                        yourself psychologically by falling into them.
                        >
                        > Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point
                        where you want to die.
                        >
                        > Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack.
                        There are few distractions that work when the doc tells you the tumor
                        is inoperable. Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and
                        its about to end. Then you have to trick yourself like Plato and Kant
                        [and so many others] with philosophy or religion.
                        >
                        > I wonder how they do that.
                        >
                        > george
                        >
                        >
                        >
                        > ---------------------------------
                        > Yahoo! Sports
                        > Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football
                        >
                        > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]




                        Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining
                        nothing!

                        Home Page: <http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist>
                        http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist



                        ---------------------------------
                        YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS


                        Visit your group "existlist" on the web.

                        To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
                        existlist-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com

                        Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service.



                        ---------------------------------



                        __________________________________________________
                        Do You Yahoo!?
                        Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
                        <http://mail.yahoo.com> http://mail.yahoo.com

                        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



                        Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining
                        nothing!

                        Home Page: <http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist>
                        http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist




                        _____

                        YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS



                        * Visit your group " <http://groups.yahoo.com/group/existlist>
                        existlist" on the web.


                        * To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
                        <mailto:existlist-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com?subject=Unsubscribe>
                        existlist-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com


                        * Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the
                        <http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/> Yahoo! Terms of Service.



                        _____





                        [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                      • Mary Jo Malo
                        The more you think about it the more you come to understand there has got to be better things to do. And look around you. Again, the list is endless. Which,
                        Message 11 of 11 , Jul 1, 2005
                          "The more you think about it the more you come to understand there
                          has got to be better things to do. And look around you. Again, the
                          list is endless. Which, of course, doesn't really explain what the
                          hell I am doing in here pointing it out over and over again. But then
                          I have never understood myself. And I think I cling to existential
                          philosophy because it is the closest thing I have ever come to to
                          understanding why I probably never will. That's a comfort of sorts.
                          If you know what I mean." g.

                          Dear g.

                          Wouldn't say that I know exactly what you mean, but close enough to
                          agree. We understand that not everyone is able to say "it's all right
                          Ma," and many do have a 'bitch'. Problem is, with whom? Certainly not
                          all our other unfortunate compadres. At least that's what Camus
                          thought. I've yet to face the telephone call that renders my
                          existentialism irrelevant. Until then, I'll savor the honey and maybe
                          share a little. Mary

                          --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, George Walton <iambiguously@y...>
                          wrote:
                          > Living is not about what we know, of course, because there is very
                          little we can know [philosophically] regarding our evalutions and
                          judgments of human behavior. Instead it is about how we interpret
                          what we think we know. And then, in turn, in how others evaluate and
                          judge that.
                          >
                          > The absurd allows you to interpret human behavior in any number of
                          ways. And with no final arbiter to be found we have to live with the
                          consequences of that.
                          >
                          > Sometimes [in particular personalities embedded in particular
                          circumstances] it makes sense to say, "it's all right Ma, it's life
                          and life only". But for other personalities embedded in other sets of
                          circumstances that frame of reference seems quite preposterous.
                          >
                          > The world depicted in Sophie's Choice leaps to mind.
                          >
                          > I can think of only two reactions that make sense---fighting back
                          or clinging all the more to the distractions. Fighting back revolves
                          around the relationship between rage and fear. You are enraged at
                          what the thugs do in this world but you are fearful that if you do
                          fight back they will do the same thing to you. And they have the
                          power----the wealth and the armies and the guns and the bombs. And
                          you have your moral outrage.
                          >
                          > So you distract yourself from having to make the committment. And
                          then you live with it. Because, you tell yourself, it really is
                          ultimately futile no mattter what you do.
                          >
                          > In many profound ways this is an appallingly shitty world. You
                          either come to understand that or you don't.
                          >
                          > I loved Camus as well. And he chose to fight back, of course.
                          Perhaps that was his distraction of choice. But he is gone forever
                          and soon you and I will be gone forever too. Is there any reaction to
                          that which makes any more sense than any other reaction?
                          >
                          > The more you think about it the more you come to understand there
                          has got to be better things to do. And look around you. Again, the
                          list is endless.
                          >
                          > Which, of course, doesn't really explain what the hell I am doing
                          in here pointing it out over and over again. But then I have never
                          understood myself. And I think I cling to existential philosophy
                          because it is the closest thing I have ever come to to understanding
                          why I probably never will.
                          >
                          > That's a comfort of sorts. If you know what I mean.
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          > g.
                          >
                          >
                          > Mary Jo Malo <maryjomalo@y...> wrote:
                          > It's all life, George. Either/or and neither/nor. The diversions
                          are
                          > life. The absurd is life. We really don't need philosophy or
                          religion
                          > or very many words; we just like them for whatever reason. As you
                          > know I enjoy Camus' take on the absurd. He had a disease (TB) for
                          > which there was no cure but died an accidental car death. For me
                          what
                          > he expressed in his writing was that life itself was a hope, that
                          > there could be more life. What's more absurd than that? We have to
                          > face the fact of death alone and die our death alone. No one can do
                          > it for us or reason it away. All the company that we keep can't
                          stay
                          > that death from us. I recently finished Camus' "Exile and the
                          > Kingdom" and especially enjoyed the story, "The Artist at Work" as
                          a
                          > wonderful expression of the absurd. I found his character Jonas to
                          be
                          > a more poignant, gentle discoverer of the absurd, not as cowardly
                          and
                          > calculating as Clamence (The Fall) or as cold and indifferent as
                          > Meursault (The Stranger). Mary
                          >
                          > Darkness at the break of noon
                          > Shadows even the silver spoon
                          > The handmade blade, the child's balloon
                          > Eclipses both the sun and moon
                          > To understand you know too soon
                          > There is no sense in trying.
                          >
                          > Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
                          > Suicide remarks are torn
                          > From the fools gold mouthpiece
                          > The hollow horn plays wasted words
                          > Proved to warn
                          > That he not busy being born
                          > Is busy dying.
                          >
                          > Temptation's page flies out the door
                          > You follow, find yourself at war
                          > Watch waterfalls of pity roar
                          > You feel to moan but unlike before
                          > You discover
                          > That you'd just be
                          > One more person crying.
                          >
                          > So don't fear if you hear
                          > A foreign sound to you ear
                          > It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing.
                          >
                          > As some warn victory, some downfall
                          > Private reasons great or small
                          > Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
                          > To make all that should be killed to crawl
                          > While others say don't hate nothing at all
                          > Except hatred.
                          >
                          > Disillusioned words like bullets bark
                          > As human gods aim for their marks
                          > Made everything from toy guns that sparks
                          > To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
                          > It's easy to see without looking too far
                          > That not much
                          > Is really sacred.
                          >
                          > While preachers preach of evil fates
                          > Teachers teach that knowledge waits
                          > Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
                          > Goodness hides behind its gates
                          > But even the President of the United States
                          > Sometimes must have
                          > To stand naked.
                          >
                          > An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
                          > It's only people's games that you got to dodge
                          > And it's alright, Ma, I can make it.
                          >
                          > Advertising signs that con you
                          > Into thinking you're the one
                          > That can do what's never been done
                          > That can win what's never been won
                          > Meantime life outside goes on
                          > All around you.
                          >
                          > You loose yourself, you reappear
                          > You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
                          > Alone you stand without nobody near
                          > When a trembling distant voice, unclear
                          > Startles your sleeping ears to hear
                          > That somebody thinks
                          > They really found you.
                          >
                          > A question in your nerves is lit
                          > Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
                          > Insure you not to quit
                          > To keep it in your mind and not forget
                          > That it is not he or she or them or it
                          > That you belong to.
                          >
                          > Although the masters make the rules
                          > For the wise men and the fools
                          > I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
                          >
                          > For them that must obey authority
                          > That they do not respect in any degree
                          > Who despite their jobs, their destinies
                          > Speak jealously of them that are free
                          > Cultivate their flowers to be
                          > Nothing more than something
                          > They invest in.
                          >
                          > While some on principles baptized
                          > To strict party platforms ties
                          > Social clubs in drag disguise
                          > Outsiders they can freely criticize
                          > Tell nothing except who to idolize
                          > And then say God Bless him.
                          >
                          > While one who sings with his tongue on fire
                          > Gargles in the rat race choir
                          > Bent out of shape from society's pliers
                          > Cares not to come up any higher
                          > But rather get you down in the hole
                          > That he's in.
                          >
                          > But I mean no harm nor put fault
                          > On anyone that lives in a vault
                          > But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him.
                          >
                          > Old lady judges, watch people in pairs
                          > Limited in sex, they dare
                          > To push fake morals, insult and stare
                          > While money doesn't talk, it swears
                          > Obscenity, who really cares
                          > Propaganda, all is phony.
                          >
                          > While them that defend what they cannot see
                          > With a killer's pride, security
                          > It blows the minds most bitterly
                          > For them that think death's honesty
                          > Won't fall upon them naturally
                          > Life sometimes
                          > Must get lonely.
                          >
                          > My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
                          > False gods, I scuff
                          > At pettiness which plays so rough
                          > Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
                          > Kick my legs to crash it off
                          > Say okay, I have had enough
                          > What else can you show me ?
                          >
                          > And if my thought-dreams could been seen
                          > They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
                          > But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.
                          >
                          > Bob Dylan
                          > It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          > --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, George Walton <iambiguously@y...>
                          > wrote:
                          > >
                          > > Emile Cioran from The Heights of Despair:
                          > >
                          > > "When all the current reasons---moral, aesthetic, religious,
                          > social, and so on---no longer guide one's life, how can one sustain
                          > life without succumbing to nothingness? Only by a connection with
                          the
                          > absurd, by love of absolute uselessness, loving something which
                          does
                          > not have substance but which simulates an illusion of life."
                          > >
                          > >
                          > >
                          > > The irony of course is how a passion for philosophy can take some
                          > through circuitous close encounters with all manner of received
                          > wisdom and in the end deposit them instead into an intellectual
                          > wasteland that engenders a feeling of being profoundly disconnected
                          > from all the great thoughts of all the great minds.
                          > >
                          > > What happens is this: you try to connect the dots between the
                          great
                          > ideas floating amidst the clouds of abstraction and the gritty
                          world
                          > you actually live in and it finally begins to dawn on you the aim
                          was
                          > quite the opposite. The aim was by and large to take you out of the
                          > cave altogether...out into the blinding light of Truth.
                          > >
                          > > The blinding light of....The Word.
                          > >
                          > > The absurd shreds that to bits, of course, but if you're lucky it
                          > will rescue you from the philosophical straitjacket that is
                          > either/or. Ambiguity is the ticket. It discards either/or and
                          instead
                          > suggests another way: neither/nor.
                          > >
                          > > Among other things, this increases your options by leaps and
                          > bounds. And that is because the logocentric truth-tellers always
                          feel
                          > compelled to follow the stright and narrow path of self-
                          > righteousness. They are slaves to The Word.
                          > >
                          > > And when the absurd turns on you in moments of existential
                          despair
                          > there are always distractions to divert you---love and sex and
                          sports
                          > and entertainment and careers and family. The list is practically
                          > endless. The illusion becomes real because you are able to trick
                          > yourself psychologically by falling into them.
                          > >
                          > > Only death is insurmountable. But then you may reach the point
                          > where you want to die.
                          > >
                          > > Or maybe not. Oblivion admittedly is the toughest nut to crack.
                          > There are few distractions that work when the doc tells you the
                          tumor
                          > is inoperable. Not even the absurd helps if you love your life and
                          > its about to end. Then you have to trick yourself like Plato and
                          Kant
                          > [and so many others] with philosophy or religion.
                          > >
                          > > I wonder how they do that.
                          > >
                          > > george
                          > >
                          > >
                          > >
                          > > ---------------------------------
                          > > Yahoo! Sports
                          > > Rekindle the Rivalries. Sign up for Fantasy Football
                          > >
                          > > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          > Please support the Existential Primer... dedicated to explaining
                          nothing!
                          >
                          > Home Page: http://www.tameri.com/csw/exist
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          > ---------------------------------
                          > YAHOO! GROUPS LINKS
                          >
                          >
                          > Visit your group "existlist" on the web.
                          >
                          > To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
                          > existlist-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
                          >
                          > Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of
                          Service.
                          >
                          >
                          > ---------------------------------
                          >
                          >
                          >
                          > __________________________________________________
                          > Do You Yahoo!?
                          > Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
                          > http://mail.yahoo.com
                          >
                          > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
                        Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.