1. 17:48 14th Jul 2014

    Notes: 8

    Preliminary remarks ‘On Noise’

    “The most inexcusable and disgraceful of all noises is the cracking of whips–a truly infernal thing when it is done in the narrow resounding streets of a town. I denounce it as making a peaceful life impossible; it puts an end to all quiet thought. That this cracking of whips should be allowed at all seems to me to show in the clearest way how senseless and thoughtless is the nature of mankind. No one with anything like an idea in his head can avoid a feeling of actual pain at this sudden, sharp crack, which paralyzes the brain, rends the thread of reflection, and murders thought. Every time this noise is made, it must disturb a hundred people who are applying their minds to business of some sort, no matter how trivial it may be; while on the thinker its effect is woeful and disastrous, cutting his thoughts asunder, much as the executioner’s axe severs the head from the body. No sound, be it ever so shrill, cuts so sharply into the brain as this cursed cracking of whips; you feel the sting of the lash right inside your head; and it affects the brain in the same way as touch affects a sensitive plant, and for the same length of time.” – Schopenhauer

    Nietzsche as Schopenhauer’s proof.

     
  2. image: Download

    Required and Supplemental Readings

    Required and Supplemental Readings

     
  3. 17:43 7th Jun 2012

    Notes: 166

    Reblogged from mmg62ui35gyu24

    image: Download

    whatmakespistachionuts:

cavetocanvas:

Stags in the nave at Lascaux, c. 15,000 BCE

— — —

…we took a wonderful trip: we left Paris in a car, and stopped at the Lascaux caves which were closed not long after that. We were very taken up with the problem of the Lascaux caves: they are buried very deep, with even a well that was inaccessible—and all this filled with paintings. How were these paintings made, who were they made for, since they weren’t painted in order to be seen? The idea was that painting started as a critique … All the more so in that all the churches in the region have crypts. We stopped at Saint-Savin, where there are frescos on the church’s vaulted dome and a crypt full of paintings, a crypt whose depths are difficult to reach because it is so dark. What are paintings that were not destined to be seen? And how were they made?

—Lefebvre on the Situationists: An Interview

    whatmakespistachionuts:

    cavetocanvas:

    Stags in the nave at Lascaux, c. 15,000 BCE

    — — —

    …we took a wonderful trip: we left Paris in a car, and stopped at the Lascaux caves which were closed not long after that. We were very taken up with the problem of the Lascaux caves: they are buried very deep, with even a well that was inaccessible—and all this filled with paintings. How were these paintings made, who were they made for, since they weren’t painted in order to be seen? The idea was that painting started as a critique … All the more so in that all the churches in the region have crypts. We stopped at Saint-Savin, where there are frescos on the church’s vaulted dome and a crypt full of paintings, a crypt whose depths are difficult to reach because it is so dark. What are paintings that were not destined to be seen? And how were they made?

    Lefebvre on the Situationists: An Interview

     
  4. 11:05

    Notes: 2

    Reblogged from thewww-deactivated20120705

    thewww:

microcosmic orbit

    thewww:

    microcosmic orbit

     
  5. 16:04 5th Jun 2012

    Notes: 1

    image: Download

     
  6. 18:11 4th Jun 2012

    Notes: 125

    Reblogged from groans

     
  7. But deep down I didn’t give a fiddler’s curse about being without, when they were all gone they would be all gone, I wouldn’t be any the worse off, or hardly any. And the solution to which I rallied in the end was to throw away all the stones but one, which I kept now in one pocket, now in another, and which of course I soon lost, or threw away, or gave away, or swallowed…
    — Beckett, Molloy (via autochthones)
     
  8. 12:41 1st Jun 2012

    Notes: 57

    Reblogged from criminal-delirium

    crazed-maddened-eyes:

- Georges Bataille, Guilty

    crazed-maddened-eyes:

    - Georges Bataille, Guilty

     
  9. 12:37

    Notes: 5

    There is a false appearance of cheer against which nothing can be done; but adopting it, one has to be finally satisfied with it. We who have taken refuge in happiness, who sit by the edge of the road to watch life go by like a procession of masqueraders or a drama wherein we go mad—doesn’t it appear that we’re aware of our fear of something? Something in us breaks easily. Do we fear youthful and destructive hands? Is it to avoid chance that we take refuge in life, in its brilliance, in its falsity and superficiality, in its shiny lies? If we seem lighthearted, is it from being infinitely sad? We are serious because we know something of the abyss—and is this why we erect barriers to that seriousness? We laugh within ourselves at those with a taste for melancholy, whom we suspect of lacking depth—alas, we envy them as we deride them, since we aren’t happy enough to allow them their delicate misery. We’re compelled to flee the barest hints of sadness—our hell and our darkness are always too near. There is something we know that we dread, something we don’t want to be on good terms with; the faith we have makes us tremble, its murmurings cause us to grow pale—and those who don’t believe in that faith seem happy to us. We turn aside from the sight of misery, stop our ears to the lamentations of suffering; and pity would break us, if we didn’t have the secret of toughening ourselves! Cool us, ye winds blowing from the glaciers! We’ll no longer take things to heart—we’re choosing as our supreme god and redeemer: the mask

    N

     
  10. 12:24

    Notes: 1

    I take the following few lines very much to heart:

    "I don’t desire to become a saint, I prefer being taken for a fool … And perhaps I am a fool … But all the same—though not ‘all the same,’ since nothing has ever been as deceptive as a saint—the truth speaks from my mouth …"

    I am not about to rip masks off anyone …
    What do we in fact know about Mr. Nietzsche?
    Constrained to sickness and silence … loathing the Christians … And we won’t mention the others! …
    And then … there are so few of us!

    — Georges Bataille, On Nietzsche

     
  11. 19:03 28th May 2012

    Notes: 1

    Reblogged from anxieting

     
  12. 17:23

    Notes: 1

    image: Download

    oh

    oh

     
  13. 16:55

    Notes: 1

    In the end, no one really knows what led Mitchell Heisman, an erudite, wry, handsome 35-year-old, to walk into Harvard Yard on the holiest day in his faith and fire one shot from a silver revolver into his right temple, on the top step of Memorial Church, where hundreds gathered to observe the Jewish Day of Atonement.
Nietzsche’s bad jokes are seriously funny.

    In the end, no one really knows what led Mitchell Heisman, an erudite, wry, handsome 35-year-old, to walk into Harvard Yard on the holiest day in his faith and fire one shot from a silver revolver into his right temple, on the top step of Memorial Church, where hundreds gathered to observe the Jewish Day of Atonement.


    Nietzsche’s bad jokes are seriously funny.

     
  14. 16:46

    Notes: 6

     
  15. 16:33

    Notes: 9

    Reblogged from courier5