MY SOUL ON ICE
A Philosophical Autobiography by John O’Loughlin
Dedicated
to the memory of Charles Baudelaire,
French Poet
and Philosopher
Copyright ©
2012 John O’Loughlin
______________
In Metachemistry, the
fiery element par excellence, Beauty and Love = Hot; Ugliness and Hate = Fast.
In Chemistry, the watery element par excellence,
Strength and Pride = Cold; Weakness and Humility = Slow.
In Physics, the vegetative (earthy) element par
excellence, Knowledge and Pleasure = Heavy; Ignorance and Pain = Hard.
In Metaphysics, the airy element par excellence,
Truth and Joy = Light; Illusion and Woe = Soft.
The Heat of Beauty and Love = Evil; the
Fastness of Ugliness and Hatred = Crime.
The Coldness of Spirit and Pride = pseudo-Evil;
the Slowness of Weakness and Humility = pseudo-Crime.
The Heaviness of Knowledge and Pleasure =
pseudo-Grace; the Hardness of Ignorance and Pain = pseudo-Wisdom.
The Lightness of Truth and Joy = Grace; the
Softness of Illusion and Woe = Wisdom.
Abstract art and pornography share in common
the appropriation of painting and sex by the abstract gender to the male side
of life, whether in terms of ego (neutronic molecular
wavicles) or soul (photonic elemental wavicles).
Appropriations of sex and/or females to
pornographic abstractions notwithstanding, one should distinguish the relative
from the absolute in this context, since one could argue that whereas the
relative is properly pornographic, involving sexual activity between two or
more persons, the absolute, focusing attention upon only one person (with or
without non-sexual assistance) is, rather, erotica, which is therefore more noumenal (pseudo-metachemical?)
than phenomenal (pseudo-chemical?), dominated not by a physical mode of
abstraction but by a metaphysical mode.
They say that pornography exploits women, but
pornography would hardly exist if women, or females, were not freely somatic
and able to ‘strut their stuff’. It is a reflection, albeit sublimated, of
their freedom and hegemonic power/glory.
All the old religions lie – as a matter of
science-serving, politics-serving, or economics-serving principle, which is why
all the old religions are unequally false from a properly religious – i.e.
metaphysical - standpoint.
I was wrong, in the past, about Eastern
Orthodoxy – it is nearer the truth of heavenly soul than Roman Catholicism, and
is therefore a higher form of religion ... relative to Christianity.
Catholicism is too obsessed by sin to be capable
of inspiring heavenly joy, and usually revolves around the expectation and
forgiveness of sin.
Even its emphasis on sin is delusional, since
it manifestly fails to address the female equivalent – pseudo-crime, which
appertains to the bound psyche not of pseudo-physics (sin) but of chemistry.
One can forgive the Church for overlooking the
corollary of sin in folly only because the latter, being freely somatic, is a
state-subordinate equivalence – which can only be irrelevant from a
bound-psychic, and therefore church-hegemonic, mass point of view.
False religion revolves around the concept
‘God’; religion that is to any extent true, or genuine, will emphasize
Heaven, of which God, or godliness, is a mere superconscious
extrapolation bearing effulgent witness, halo-like, to soulful joy.
Supreme Being, which is a condition of
metaphysical soul, has reference to Heaven, not to God.
Godliness, which is the nearest metaphysical
postulate to ego, is that which takes cognizance of the supreme beingfulness of soulful joy, i.e. the condition of Heaven.
Heaven is not only beyond God; it precedes
godliness as that which is at the heart (core) of metaphysics.
Heaven is the joyful condition of metaphysical
soul to which the truth of godliness bears superconscious
witness from the standpoint of a superhuman order of ‘bovaryized’
ego which, being ‘once-bovaryized’, is less
super-egocentric than super-egoistic.
The pseudo-superconscious,
which is pseudo-metaphysical, is often confounded by gender reductionists
with the subconscious. In reality, it is
as far removed from the subconscious as pseudo-illusion and pseudo-woe from
ugliness and hate, which of course appertain to the subconscious metachemically.
Every time they open their mouths to speak
about God, they lie; priests lie through their teeth.
Idolatry is the mainstay of the Church; without
idols it would be unable to exist.
Christ said something to the effect
that one – meaning male followers – must abandon wife, daughter, sister, mother
– in short, family – to follow him. That is the way of the
Cross or, at any rate, of a religious vocation through Christ, and it tends to
lead to the individualism of
To be rid of priests, bibles, hymnals, etc., it
will be necessary to vote for Social Theocracy or, rather, for religious
sovereignty through Social Theocracy, so that, in the event of a majority
mandate, the Social Theocrats can set about removing Creator-based obstacles to
evolutionary progress, including the Church itself.
Social Theocracy must be determined to set up
the ‘Church’, i.e. the Centre, to end all churches. It will not be, in the Protestant manner,
just another church, but the start of something entirely new, as germane to
‘Kingdom Come’, wherein the People will be rid of priests because religiously
sovereign.
The Church is morally bankrupt; it panders to
the world, including the world’s microcosm – the family. Families can have no place in ‘Kingdom Come’.
Every family is a repudiation of Christ and
testament to the worldly success of females.
Only the male has a right, in pseudo-physics,
to cultivate faith in the possibility of deliverance, via some kind of
messianic intervention, from his lowly predicament as an affiliated subordinate
to the chemical hegemony of feminine females (the successful counterparts of superfeminine females).
A Saviour is one who delivers the
pseudo-masculine male, or pseudo-male, from pseudo-physics to metaphysics on
the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis stretching from southwest to
northeast points of the intercardinal axial
compass. He thus restores them, albeit
on an upgraded or transfigured basis, to male gender sync, in which psyche is
free to preponderate and prevail over bound soma in the absolute ratio of 3:1.
A pseudo-masculine male with a relative, or
2½:1½, ratio of bound psyche to free soma under feminine female hegemonic
pressure in chemistry over pseudo-physics is not only more bound than free; he
is the victim of an upended gender predicament that keeps him at loggerheads
with his inherent predilection for free psyche and bound soma.
Free soma and bound psyche is natural to the
female, but not to the male who, in the event of subordination to a female
hegemony, becomes pseudo-male, whether in pseudo-supermasculine
pseudo-metaphysics or, down from the noumenal to the
phenomenal planes, in pseudo-masculine pseudo-physics, from which position
there is no way back to metaphysical gender sync except via messianic
intervention.
Females have no interest in otherworldly
deliverance for the simple reason that they achieve their goal in maternal
resolution, which is chemically worldly, i.e. of the world from a purgatorial
(as opposed, like pseudo-physics, to a pseudo-earthly) standpoint. The achievement of a surrogate plenum through
the child is what delivers them from the netherworldly
want of such a plenum in metachemical vacuity.
Delivered from the vacuum of metachemistry to the surrogate plenum of maternal
resolution in chemistry, the female is fulfilled, and can have no further natural
ambitions … bar the possibility of additional children.
The alacrity with which most rock musicians
subscribe to ‘love’, that exemplification of metachemical
spirit, would suggest a Creator-oriented disposition not merely out of touch … but
completely at variance with true religion.
Bono sings about there being no line on (his)
horizon, but there is on mine: one between
metaphysics (male) and pseudo-metachemistry
(pseudo-female).
If we speak of the ‘super-ego’, let us remember
that it is a ‘bovaryized’ order of ego equivalent to superconscious mind that, being metaphysical, is superconsciously aware of the supersensibility
(joy) of metaphysical soul – the Soul per se.
We should not forget that ‘bovaryized’
ego (super-ego) only exists compliments of the Soul,
which engenders it as candle-flame engenders the light which bears witness to
it. Translated from psychology into
theology, as from theory into practice, this means that God, or godliness, only
exists compliments of Heaven, since it is Heaven that precedes God, as Joy
precedes Truth, which is the evidence of Joy.
No-one is godly all the time, least of all on a
permanent basis commensurate with a divine status. God as a ‘thingful’
entity is a falsehood germane to ‘bovaryized’
religions, whether scientific (fundamentalist), political (pantheist), or
economic (humanist), as though dominated, in metachemical,
chemical, or physical vein, by fire, water, or earth (vegetation), or, indeed,
by a combination, to different extents, of all three.
I am neither Catholic nor Protestant, but a
self-proclaimed Social Theocrat, who is beyond Christianity and other so-called
‘world religions’ in his ideological commitment primarily to metaphysics and
secondarily to pseudo-metachemistry, through the
concept and, hopefully, development of religious sovereignty to a Social
Transcendentalist end.
Being a kind of messianic advocate of religious
sovereignty through Social Theocracy does not make me ‘God’, that ‘thingful’ falsehood, but simply a kind of intellectual and/or
ideological ‘godfather’ of Social Theocracy.
For me, Social Theocracy, which aims to bring
the religious praxis of Social Transcendentalism to the masses, is the true –
as opposed to false, or Social Democratic – Centrism (I nearly said ‘Communism’,
but that is the false legacy of a previous title) – the Centrism that would
‘overcome man’ in the interests of his deliverance to ‘Kingdom Come’.
All of my philosophy has been conceived against
a background or backdrop of indifference if not open hostility from the
‘English’, especially from neighbours, including women and children, who seem
to have an abhorrence of intellectualism, culture, independence of mind, and
other male ‘higher values’. If I have
succeeded in my endeavours, it is not because of them but, rather, in spite of
them!
I think my long-standing abhorrence of women
and their anti-intellectualism derives, in large part, from my mother, whose
aggressive vulgarity and stupidity of mind has always shocked and appalled me.
I have rarely or never had the privilege of
living anywhere pleasant, away from the prying minds of cynical and shallow
neighbours. Christ’s injunction to ‘love
thy neighbour’ seems to me an outrageous irrelevance to what experience teaches
one about people and their constant attempts both to undermine and humiliate
one.
If I go through life without any friends, it is
because I find the concept of friendship too remote and unattractive in a world
or milieu in which people are usually bugbears to be avoided.
The sooner ‘man is (cyborgistically)
overcome’, the better it will be for life, or what remains of it, on this
planet. But the battle to ‘overcome man’
is also a struggle against women and their worldly ambitions.
The worst offenders against religion are those
who make a show of worshipping the ‘Creator’, the ‘Almighty’, the ‘One who is
Great’, and other such variations on a love of power deriving from the free
will of ‘Devil the Mother’ hyped as ‘God the Father’. All such concepts of God are false, because
rooted in power and the beautiful ‘thingfulness’
which is its wilful corollary.
Fundamentalists, pantheists, and humanists are
all enemies of religion, which is transcendentalist, that is, neither metachemical, chemical, nor physical, but metaphysical.
The worst enemies of ‘the people’ are, in my
experience, the people themselves, who are always looking over their shoulders
to make sure no-one is stealing a march on them or attempting to do or achieve
something that they wouldn’t or, more to the point, couldn’t.
Whenever I hear the word ‘God’ … used in
conjunction with an entity separate from Heaven … I reach for my metaphorical
revolver and metaphorically shoot it down.
It doesn’t surprise me that just as, in metachemistry, beauty precedes love (and ugliness hate),
so, in physics, knowledge precedes pleasure (and ignorance pain), physics over
pseudo-chemistry being polar to metachemistry over
pseudo-metaphysics on the state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis stretching
from northwest to southeast points of the intercardinal
axial compass.
Likewise, it doesn’t surprise me that just as,
in metaphysics, joy precedes truth (and woe illusion), so, in chemistry, pride
precedes strength (and humility weakness), chemistry over pseudo-physics being
polar to metaphysics over pseudo-metachemistry on the
church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis stretching from southwest to northeast
points of the intercardinal axial compass.
Therefore while will and ego are the respective
fulcra of metachemistry and physics, spirit and soul
are the respective fulcra of chemistry and metaphysics, the former attributes
corresponding to power and form, the later ones to glory and contentment.
Anybody who regularly attends church must be
either a half-wit or a complete idiot!
‘Holy Mother of God’ – Give me a break! Mothers are far more likely to be Clear; and
as for ‘Mother of God’ …? Since when
does the ‘Son of God’ (sic) get to be God?
Anyway, I have said time and again that Christ
is the Son of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father and therefore hardly a
‘Son of God’, even if one could believe – as I can’t – in a God that had a Son.
‘Holy Water’ – Give me a break! Water is either
Clear or Unclear, like females.
‘The Second Coming’ of Christ – Give me a break! Do we need more cart
before or, rather, to the exclusion of the relevant horse (of ‘God the Father’)
because of the Dragon hyped as Horse in back, metachemically,
of anything metaphysical. I doubt
it. One worldly extrapolation from a netherworldly anchor – Western civilization being nothing
more than an extrapolation from the Judaic
Christianity is far too prone to superstition
and paradoxical idolatry to be worthy of taking seriously. How many sensible people really do?
Football: anybody who is prepared to use their
head as a muscular weapon to head the ball with isn’t going to be – or have –
much of a brain. Heading is probably the
thing I most dislike about football – apart, that is, from the want of a point between
two uprights over the bar (ample testimony to a total want
of religiosity and/or idealism).
Football isn’t even a ‘beautiful game’,
contrary to the populist notion. Rugby
Union would more qualify for that, but, then, so what?
I can’t understand how a Catholic can play
football – that quintessentially Protestant (puritan) sport.
Have I realized my potential? – Yes,
abundantly. I am one of the greatest
philosophers of all time.
My literary heroes: Baudelaire, Aldous Huxley, Friedrich Nietzsche, James Joyce, Henry
Miller, W.B. Yeats, Arthur Schopenhauer, Lawrence Durrell,
John Cowper Powys, Jean-Paul Sartre, Hermann Hesse,
Albert Camus, to name but a few.
Oh, for a Kaufmann, to do a Nietzsche on me!
My musical heroes: Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck,
John McLaughlin, Keith Emerson, Jon Lord, Dave Greenslade,
Glenn Hughes, Rick Wakeman, John Mayall,
Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Alice Cooper, Ozzy Osbourne, Jean-Michel Jarre, Steve Morse, Michael Schenker
...
Groups (bands) I particularly admire: The
Doors, The Rolling Stones, Yes, King Crimson, Deep Purple, MSG (Michael Schenker Group), ELP (Emerson, Lake, and Palmer), The Allman Brothers, The Grateful Dead, Black Label Society, Metallica, Spiritual Beggars, Arch Enemy, Iron Maiden, Motorhead, Focus, Black Sabbath, The Pretenders, Tangerine
Dream, Soft Machine, CSYN (Crosby Stills Nash & Young, or variants thereof).
I used to think of the term ‘evaluation’ in
relation to chemistry and ‘revaluation’ in relation to physics, but these days
I incline to the view that chemistry is the ‘revaluated’ element by dint of the
fact that, being spiritual, pride precedes strength, or Spirit a ‘once-bovaryized’ order of Will.
In physics, by contrast, knowledge precedes pleasure, as Ego preceding a
‘once-bovaryized’ order of Soul.
Hence chemistry, hegemonic over pseudo-physics,
is the ‘revaluated’ precondition, on axial terms, of the metaphysical
precedence of truth by joy in what, unequivocally hegemonic over pseudo-metachemistry, is a ‘transvaluated’
element. Something like Christ walking
on the water would be an apt metaphor for the ‘revaluated’ precondition, ‘
The state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis, by
contrast, would seem to pitch the ‘devaluating’ element of metachemistry,
unequivocally hegemonic over pseudo-metaphysics, in which beauty precedes love,
as Will preceding a ‘once-bovaryized’ order of
Spirit, against the ‘evaluations’ of physics, equivocally hegemonic over
pseudo-chemistry, in which, as noted above, knowledge precedes pleasure.
Hence the parallelism of beauty preceding love
in metachemistry with knowledge preceding pleasure in
physics, or Will preceding ‘Spirit’ with Ego preceding ‘Soul’, where the dominating
elements of the state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis are concerned, should
be contrasted with the parallelism of pride preceding strength in chemistry
with joy preceding truth in metaphysics, or Spirit preceding ‘Will’ with Soul
preceding ‘Ego’, where the dominating elements of the
church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis are concerned – a contrast between an
axis hegemonically characterized by ‘devaluating’ and
‘evaluating’ and, by contrast, one hegemonically
characterized by ‘revaluating’ and ‘transvaluating’,
‘devaluating’ no less the axial precondition of ‘evaluating’ than ‘revaluating’
is the axial precondition of ‘transvaluating’.
Christ walking upon the water (of chemical
‘revaluation’) in order to aspire towards the heavenly air (of metaphysical ‘transvaluation’) upon what is a
church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis stretching from the southwest to the
northeast points of the intercardinal axial compass
is, I have to say, a credible metaphor for the paradoxical utilization of
‘revaluating’ as a springboard to ‘transvaluating’,
and hence to world-transcendence.
Incidentally, ‘revaluations’ exist as such in
relation to ‘devaluations’, since the maternal resolution of beauty preceding
love in metachemistry is pride preceding strength in
chemistry. For the male, on the other
hand, the rejection of ‘evaluations’ (corresponding to the ‘forbidden tree of
knowledge’, with its ego fulcrum) in favour of pseudo-physical
‘pseudo-evaluations’ under chemical ‘revaluations’ … makes for the possibility,
through salvation, of metaphysical ‘transvaluations’
unequivocally hegemonic over what could, with pseudo-metachemistry,
be termed ‘pseudo-devaluations’.
In other words, a Saint George and a
neutralized dragon-like scenario which is akin to the prone Virgin at the foot
of the so-called ‘True Cross’ upon which Christ is raised up, with upstretched arms, in what would seem to be a Y-chromosomal
intimation – the Yo-factor, so to speak, of
metaphysical blessedness in otherworldly aloofness from the ‘world’.
The objectively moral (metachemical)
hegemony of evil and crime over the pseudo-subjective pseudo-unmoral
(pseudo-metaphysical) subordination of pseudo-folly and pseudo-sin is a
contrast, at the northwest point of the intercardinal
axial compass, between Vanity and pseudo-Meekness.
The objectively pseudo-moral (chemical)
hegemony of pseudo-evil and pseudo-crime over the pseudo-subjectively unmoral
(pseudo-physical) subordination of folly and sin is a contrast, at the
southeast point of the intercardinal axial compass,
between pseudo-Vanity and Meekness.
The subjectively pseudo-moral (physical)
hegemony of pseudo-grace and pseudo-wisdom over the pseudo-objectively unmoral
(pseudo-chemical) subordination of punishment and goodness is a contrast, at
the southeast point of the intercardinal axial
compass, between pseudo-Righteousness and Justice.
The subjectively moral (metaphysical) hegemony
of grace and wisdom over the pseudo-objectively pseudo-unmoral (pseudo-metachemical) subordination of pseudo-punishment and
pseudo-goodness is a contrast, at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial compass, between Righteousness and
pseudo-Justice.
Amorality (coming down from above) and
immorality (rising up from below), whether genuine or pseudo, are exceptions to
the general rule … of the contrast between morality of one kind or another and
its corresponding gender-subordinate unmoral compliment.
Amorality, like morality, is genuine in the noumenal (ethereal) contexts and pseudo in the phenomenal
(corporeal) ones, whereas immorality, by contrast, is pseudo in the noumenal contexts and genuine in the phenomenal ones, where
it rises from either pseudo-physics or pseudo-chemistry, meekness or justice,
but always in consequence, as elsewhere, of amoral or, more correctly in this
context, pseudo-amoral pressure from above, i.e., the equivocally hegemonic
elements of chemistry in the one case and physics in the other.
Speaking in general terms, amorality should be avoided
by the hegemonically moral, since it leads to an
immoral backlash from the pressurized unmoral, and that is – and ever will be –
bad for morality … of whatever type.
Things I have never done:-
Bought
‘The Sun’, ‘The Mirror’, ‘The Daily Star’;
The
Lottery;
Had
sex;
Watched
‘
Played
‘Bingo’;
Slept
with another person;
Watched
‘The X-Factor’;
Been
to the States,
Eaten
in a fancy restaurant;
Picked
up a woman;
Bought
a house, flat, car, motorbike;
Voted
in a British General Election (other than 1974 – Thorpe, Liberals);
Driven
and/or owned a car, van, lorry;
Ridden
and/or owned a motorbike, scooter, moped, horse, pony;
Spoken
to next-door neighbours;
Owned
a pet;
Been
married;
Gone
fishing, skiing, shooting, sailing, hunting;
Played
golf, rugby, hockey, hurling, Gaelic football, poker, bridge, squash;
Flown
a plane, chopper, glider;
Busking;
Danced
in public, i.e. at a dancehall, ballroom, disco, party;
Been
on a package holiday;
Booked
myself into a hotel;
Warn
a cravat, bow tie, bowler hat, top hat, pair of high-heeled boots, jackboots,
an earring, a jockstrap;
Climbed a mountain, cliff, high wall, tall tree.
For economics to be in the least bit godly, it
would have to be supercapitalist, which is to say,
would need to correspond to the super-ego as a superconscious
recognition of and testimony to the superfeeling or supersensibility of metaphysical soul, which, as noted
before, is a condition of joy corresponding to Being per se.
Hence economics is only godly in the truthful
service of Heaven, the joyful condition of metaphysical soul, and will
accordingly be the supercapitalist servant of true
religion – what, with Social Theocracy in mind, should be termed super-religion.
Capitalism, as such, which is physical and
egoistic if not egocentric in its formal selfishness, is not – and never could
be – godly, i.e., behaving in a manner which is solely concerned with the
wellbeing of metaphysical soul as that which, centred in true being, epitomizes
Heaven.
The notion of capitalism as God,
like man as God, is if not a lie then, at best, a half-truth corresponding to
knowledge. And half-truths, unlike half-lies, are
axially engaged in what could be termed a Faustian pact with the Lie, the whole
lie, in other words, of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father in metachemistry, whose somatic licence, vacuously rooted in
free will, is ever at variance with the psychic beingfulness
of true soul.
The thing about half-truths is that they are
the same way around as the Lie – knowledge preceding pleasure in physics as
beauty precedes love in metachemistry, and therefore
cannot become the axial precondition, as with the pride preceding strength of
chemistry, of Truth or, rather, of the precedence of truth by joy in
metaphysics, which is salvation not for the chemical but the pseudo-physical
and their meek pseudo-ignorance preceding pseudo-pain, which is sin.
Nevertheless, metaphysics would still exist,
and therefore Truth, even if there were no chemistry or, for that matter,
pseudo-physics. For metaphysics is not
of the world or in any way dependent upon the world which, in
chemistry/pseudo-physics, is a consequence of metachemical
ambitions, that is, of the capacity of metachemical
females to seduce males from metaphysics to pseudo-metaphysics (via antimetaphysics), where, as admirers of Beauty and participators
in female Love, they are groomed for a worldly (pseudo-earthly) fall into
pseudo-physics in relation to the worldly (purgatorial) resolution of the
female in the surrogate plenum of maternity afforded her by the achievement of
a chemical escape from the metachemical dilemma of
wilful vacuity – her original adult condition.
In sum, the ‘fall of man’ (from metaphysics) is
consequent upon the rise, paradoxically, of woman … out of the beautiful girl,
who is the equivalent of Devil the Mother.
Females have free will and spirit in abundance,
but males should resist the temptation to emulate them and instead concentrate
on being loyal to themselves, whether in relation to ego or, more from a
metaphysical standpoint, to soul, thereby achieving the transcendence of form
in contentment.
Obsessed with power and glory, as germane to
the female side of the gender fence, one is not even a sonofabitch
but, what’s worse, a quasi-bitch of one sort or another.
For the same reason as the above, it is better
to build supernations than nations, to form
geographically-related federations of nation states into a unified whole that
has the long-term capacity for supra-national transformation along the lines of
a universal church.
The main difference between The Beatles and the
Rolling Stones is that whereas the former were a working-class band from
Liverpool, the latter were – and still are – classless, closer to Eternity and,
in a certain non-sequential sense, virtually timeless, as their blues-based music
amply attests.
If anyone could be called ‘the Beethoven of the
electric guitar’, it would surely have to be Jeff Beck, whose awesome range of
tone and timbre is simply monumental.
Bono is the archetype sonofabitch
romantic rock-singer – he makes me cringe.
The only antidote to a hard rock romantic fool
like Coverdale is a heavy metal self-obsessed sinner
like Dickenson.
I have only ever really admired one Irish band
– Thin Lizzy.
And they weren’t that Irish.
I bought the first two Taste albums as a
schoolboy in Carshalton, and have always quite admired Rory Gallagher as a
blues guitarist. The grossly overblown
endings to some of his later live stuff doesn’t do him much credit, however,
since he comes across as a kind of obstinate moron and fairly sophisticated
fool.
U2 – don’t you just love to hate them?
The Doors were always my favourite American
band – the great poet intellectual Jim Morrison, shades of Poe greatness.
I hate to love Glenn Hughes, but I do. He is simply soulfully fantastic, despite his
cynical attitude to religion.
Metallica are a truly electrifying band – simply
awesome!
I’ve always had a soft spot for Black Label
Society, probably because of Zakk Wylde
having been Ozzy Osbourne’s
guitarist. Similarly I only really
turned on to Metallica after they employed one of Ozzy’s ex-bassists, Robert Trujillo. As they say, one thing leads to another.
Steve Morse is in many respects the Keith
Emerson of the guitar. Simply brilliant,
with an ability to make brilliance appear simple, even when his music is
awesomely complex, as, incidentally, it usually is.
Despite his sloppy sentimentalism and worldly
‘straightness’, Chris de Burgh remains a consummate professional capable of
holding his own with any sized audience.
Nevertheless, I must confess that his songs – and falsetto deliveries –
often make me cringe.
‘Union’ by the rock band Yes – one of those
albums of which the percussion is more of a noise than a groove, with the music
generally too disjointed to be particularly pleasant; in fact, quite often
manifestly discordant and disruptive. Lyrically, the usual
admixture of romanticism and sun-oriented superheathenism
that smacks, in its affiliation with ‘squares’, of moral superficiality,
especially when delivered with quasi-bitch-like vocal histrionics.
If one ever needed proof of the philistinism of
rock ‘n’ roll, it is in the bitch-slavering heathenism of its lyrical content
rather than, as with guitar-smashing antics at the end of a gig, in the
quasi-barbarism of a quasi-bitch departure from the usual sonofabitch
attributes alluded to above, not least in respect of the ubiquitous presence of
a vocal delivery in the first place.
A dancing male should be as unusual, in gender
terms, as a grooving female. Normally,
males groove and females dance – a dichotomy, after all, between head and body,
psyche and soma, time and pseudo-space.
The Nazi salute, with outstretched arm and open
hand, in some instances, or with certain bona fide practitioners (like Hitler), suggests a
southwest-to-northeast axial orientation commensurate, no matter how
imperfectly when rooted, socialistically, in the masses, with church-hegemonic/state-subordinate
criteria, in contrast to the southeast-to-northwest axial orientation of the
conventional military salute which, with its right hand-to-brow from a bent
arm, is far more suggestive of state-hegemonic/church-subordinate criteria, in WASPish vein. And
yet, one would hesitate to describe National Socialism as church-hegemonic,
given the political implications of the Third Reich.
I used to believe that Social Theocracy would
be akin, in some sense, to the resurrection of National Socialism – a
resurrection that necessarily corrects the deficiencies of National Socialism
in that it would be axially far removed from it, even polar, in its insistence
on a classless society that was non-Marxist in character and centred,
transcendentally, in religious truth. But
this is something that National Socialism never was nor ever could be, given
its origins in the baleful consequences of the First World War and the Treaty
of Versailles, making for a militant retort and urge, ultimately, towards
European domination through militarism.
Nowadays I simply see National Socialism as the alpha of global
civilization (necessarily barbarous) and Social Theocracy as its coming
omega. Time alone will tell.
The Star is always symbolic of soma – a female
emblem characteristic, whether relative (moderate) or absolute (extreme),
phenomenal or noumenal, corporeal or ethereal, of the
Left.
The Cross is always symbolic of psyche – a male
emblem characteristic, whether relative (moderate) or absolute (extreme),
phenomenal or noumenal, corporeal or ethereal, of the
Right.
Hence a distinction between body and mind,
socialism and capitalism, concrete and abstract, figurative and non-figurative,
heathenism and Christianity, objectivity and subjectivity, particles and wavicles, collectivism and individualism, politics and
economics, science and religion, war and peace, female and male.
Beauty is evil because objectively wilful.
Love comes and goes, but beauty persists.
That which is in flux is free – whether
beautifully, strongly, knowledgeably, or truthfully.
Conversely, whatever is not in flux (static) is
bound, whether ugly, weak, ignorant, or illusory.
The Swastika – a kind of absolute
cross, or supercross, though arguably a pseudo-supercross if contiguously encircled.
Metaphysical Extreme Right + pseudo-metachemical Extreme pseudo-Left = noumenal
centrism, or centrism on a noumenal basis.
The Centre is never ‘ringful’,
ever ‘badgeful’, or centripetal.
I could never wear a ring, neither earring nor
finger-ring, since I am not sonofabitch enough. Can’t imagine myself
placing a ring on anybody’s finger, either.
Other people change address. I change the configuration of things in my
room.
Actually, I hate the room I live in, not to
mention the house, which is small and noisy, with heavy cantilevered
doors. I’ve always lived in cheap
lodgings, never owned a property, not even so much as a flat, and probably
never will.
My current abode, which I’ve lived in since
1991, is actually my thirteenth or fourteenth address overall. All crap!
My great musical no-nos:-
Sting
– hate the name, so silly (Zappa once called him ‘Mr Sting’);
The
Police – way to straight a band name for me;
Bono
– plain daft;
The
Edge – likewise;
The The – the what?!;
Pink
Floyd – not one of my favourite colours, whereas ‘Floyd’ was the name of a
Baptist minister in the church I attended whilst living in a Children’s Home in
Carshalton Beeches,
Adam
Ant – Adam what?!;
Michael
Jackson – The epitome of cultural superficiality and gender unmanliness – a
singer and a dancer in one!;
Gary
Glitter – is that his real name? Actually, it’s Paul Gadd,
isn’t it? Which reminds me of another thing I dislike: people who use false
names to get ahead and become famous, including Elton John (real or, rather,
birth name: Reginald Dwight), Bob Dylan (real name: Robert Zimmerman), Boy
George (real name: George O’Dowd), David Bowie (real name: David Jones) …
Strangely enough, I make one exception: Alice Cooper (real name: Vincent Furnier), whose music (and albums) I have always liked,
even collected. But any exception proves
the rule! Which is just as true of John
Michael Osbourne, aka ‘Ozzy’ Osbourne, who at least uses his actual surname.
The world is a grim, dreadful place full of
pain and suffering. Anyone who didn’t
want to get out of it to a ‘better world’, otherworldly in character, would
have to be mad or simple or, failing that, just plain female.
What is sex? Sex is gender, and gender implies
coitus – intercourse between female and male for both pleasure and reproduction
or, more basically and accurately, for reproduction motivated by pleasure. Of course, you could do it only for pleasure,
but I fancy that, unless one is a complete pr**k, the pleasure will fade after
awhile, causing one to lose interest in the apparent futility of mere sex
and/or to seek alternative partners or attitudes in order to spice it up a bit
or rekindle the dying flame. And that, I
fancy, would only compound the futility, making one even more disillusioned
with sex and increasingly prone to … either self-abuse or other-abuse –
something that usually has an element of self-abuse in it, in any case. But what could be worse? For self-abuse and other-abuse is not sex but
sexual deviance, not least in respect of masturbation, oral, buggery, sodomy,
pederasty, paedophilia, etc. Retreat
from the reproductive essence of sex and you retreat from sex … further and
further into either self-abuse or other-abuse, with predictably vicious
consequences.
The world was once sane, now it’s mad. Soon it will be given the coup de
grace in order to be replaced by a supersane world – otherworldly in its freedom (extreme
right-wing) and pseudo-netherworldly in its binding
(extreme pseudo-left). That will be the
new and ultimate centre.
The trouble with male contraception (rubber
condoms) is that once you start using it, it doesn’t make much difference which
hole you put your penis into …
So-called homosexuality has always revolted me
(theoretically, though I am not against homosexuals per se, least of all in
relation to those androgynous or hermaphrodite persons who are female-looking
in all but the penis and are likely to attract sexual attention from certain
males), as do other forms of other-abuse. The worst I have ever done – and that
several decades ago – was to indulge in a degree of masturbatory self-abuse …
rather infrequently and usually in conjunction with some kind of female erotica
from a so-called men’s magazine. But it
bored and humiliated me, and I soon lost interest in it; though not in female
erotica, which still gives me a degree of pleasure, confirming the
appropriation of sex to the male (abstract) side of the gender fence in
relation to a metaphysical bent.
I have spent most of my life in exile from my
native country (
Being a virgin at fifty-seven, you could say my
messianic integrity is still intact! All
that remains now is for me to … I nearly wrote ‘bring about Kingdom Come’, but,
these days, I’m far less ambitious. The
possibility of a Social Theocratic revolution would be enough to be getting on
with … if one could convince enough people that they would be better off with
religious sovereignty. But I am only a
convincer, potentially, on paper; I don’t believe in the efficacy of soapboxes,
or in my own deferential capacity to deliver to the masses, least of all with
an English accent in
The British are the least religious of people,
a people obsessed by football, who are not ashamed to use their head as a kind
of muscular weapon on the field. As for
points over the bar (crossbar) – forget it; there aren’t any.
They (the British) are not the ‘ears for my
mouth’, to paraphrase Nietzsche.
I once wrote that I didn’t believe in
‘superfluous men’ (in Between Truth and
Illusion, 1977). Which is ironic,
since I am the most superfluous of men, a man who, in his Galway birthplace,
would be truly persona non grata where the paternal side of his ancestry was concerned, since the
product of a misalliance that must have been one of the great flukes – and
ironies – of nature.
I would rather dishonour myself than honour my
father (a sonofabitch) and mother (a bitch), neither
of whom were any good to me. The one, I
never saw; the other, got rid of me (children’s home) as soon as she could. Were it not for my maternal grandmother, she
would doubtless have put me into care sooner.
But even my grandmother left a lot to be desired, not least in terms of
having to return to her old lodgings in Aldershot when her business venture in
a Galway pub fell through. Which is how I came to be brought up in
All God is, it seems to me, is evidence of
Heaven – the be-all-and-end-all of religion when it’s true, which is to say,
true to metaphysical self – a uniquely classless male order of free psyche
centred in soul.
I am not – and never have been – a means for
any female to a worldly (purgatorial) end.
Therefore I do not relate to or identify with the pseudo-earthly, whose
‘meekness’ is in consequence of the pseudo-Vain, and has to do with being
foolish and sinful or, in church-hegemonic/state-subordinate terms, sinful
(bound psyche) and foolish (free soma), neither of which would be inherently
male attributes.
These days I tend, more than ever, to the view
that whereas females dream with their minds (subconscious and/or unconscious),
males dream with their bodies (unsensuous and/or subsensuous), thereby reversing their respective waking-life
gender norms.
Increasingly, I find it hard to believe in ‘the
subconscious’ from a male standpoint. Neither can I place much store in ‘the unconscious’. Both,
it seems to me, are fundamentally female that one may, if childhood dreams are
anything to judge by, be more susceptible to as a child than as a male adult,
for whom ‘the unsensuous’ and/or ‘the subsensuous’ should have more relevance as corollaries of
‘the conscious’ and ‘the superconscious’
respectively.
Superconscious = super-ego = supercapitalism
= superman = godliness, the blossom of heavenly joy, which is supersensible.
There will never be another as intellectually thoroughgoing
and comprehensively exacting as me. I am,
in logical and conceptual terms, the ultimate philosopher or, at any rate,
philosophical thinker, all the more so as I’m self-taught and therefore not
hampered by an English so-called ‘higher education’ – something I was always
keen, in any case, to avoid.
I had originally thought of calling this
project ‘My Soul Laid Bare’ in deference to Baudelaire’s My Heart Laid Bare – something I’ve long regarded as one of the
greatest posthumous publications in all literature, which I’ve often used, in
the past, as a substitute for the Bible.
It is going to take us decades if not centuries
to demolish the ‘God crap’ that remains an obstacle to true religion.
In true religion you don’t pray to God. Nor do you anthropomorphize or personify
godliness, as Him, Christ, Supreme Being, The
Almighty, The Creator, etc. Godliness is
the superconsciousness of Being, which is joy. It’s a state of mind that is aware only of
the soul’s joy when it is free to be true to itself in metaphysics, an
exclusively male preserve. Therefore
praying to ‘God’ is proof that it’s not God that one is praying to but some
falsehood appertaining to or deriving from ‘Devil the Mother’, the so-called
Creator, hyped as God.
The sooner this and other such mystical and idolatrous
superstitions are consigned to the rubbish bin of history … the better. For only then will true religion (coupled, in
the pseudo-metachemical, to pseudo-science) be
universally possible.
It is not whether what you write is right or
wrong that really matters, but whether you were sincere in your convictions at
the time of writing it.
My current – and hopefully definitive – concept
of a supercross is of a Y-like entity whose upward
tending arms should be slightly curvilinear and bulbously inward turning, as
though symbolic, over and above Y-chromosomal intimations, of a
loosely-clenched fist salute. However,
the inward-turning arms of this supercross should be
precluded from giving a ‘ringful’ impression by the
proximity, in between and coming off the vertical axis, of a substantial
curvilinear element equivalent to its head and subject, if needs be, to an
absolute cross design on its face, as though to preclude its appearing like a
ring. For the overall intent of this
central form must be to maintain a ‘badgeful’
centripetal fulcrum that will preclude the upward and inward turning outer arms
from either looking like horns or the curves of a ring.
The absolute cross in rectilinear form seems to
me to be a Western, alpha-derived shortfall from global requirement, and can –
red-cross exceptions to the rule notwithstanding – usually be identified with
church-defensive movements having a fascist connotation.
I am not saying that the curvilinear supercross is left wing or anything or the kind. It’s simply a more advanced (global)
manifestation of extreme right-wing criteria premised upon noumenal
subjectivity, and would be meaningless without due reference to an extreme
pseudo-left-wing pseudo-superstar (or contiguously encircled absolute star),
above which it would stand like metaphysics over pseudo-metachemistry
or our proverbial Saint George over a neutralized dragon, the ‘dragon-lion’
that is perforce obliged to ‘lie down’ with the ‘saint-lamb’ because, having
been defeated, it has no choice.
In a word, an inescapable
combination, as noted before, of global extreme right-wing and extreme pseudo-left-wing
elements constitutive, when served from an administrative aside, of noumenal centrism.
Did I say in an earlier text (The Centre of Truth, 2009) that Social
Theocracy was, in relation to Social Democracy, the ‘true communism’? Forgive me.
It is neither fascist nor communist, absolute cross nor absolute star,
but, as noted above, noumenally centrist, and
therefore beyond such mutually-exclusive ideological positions, being a
combination of noumenally subjective and
pseudo-objective elements compatible with gender differentiation, a
differentiation that should be served, with due diligence, from an
administrative aside to the ‘centre proper’, an aside that, while favouring the
metaphysical, will never ignore or underestimate the significance of the pseudo-metachemical in the viability of the overall structure.
Computing, or using a computer (I have a
laptop), is, I feel sure, a species of masochism. They seem designed to torment one, especially
those connected to the Internet.
How much time is wasted – not saved – in front
of a computer! There was a time when
life seemed to be a bit simpler and more straightforward.
My experience of computers has not been good.
I ignore most of my email because I get so much
of it that if I were to read it all, I would have little or no time for
anything else, not least my literary work.
Hence the futility of emails for business or
commercial promotions. For if I’m
anything like others, few emails get taken any notice of anyway.
Programs have a habit of not responding. Isn’t that typical? I suppose the fact that I bought a ‘down
market’ laptop has something to do with it; though I doubt whether a more
expensive one would have been much better.
After awhile, they all let one down (this is my fourth). They run at a certain speed, etc., until you load
too many programs and/or files for the original specifications to be able to
handle things adequately.
Every day my peace of mind is grossly
undermined by computing. One cannot be
happy for long in front of a computer.
They’re almost guaranteed to turn one into a nervous wreck!
This dongle thing is the sickest joke yet! Not only purgatorially
slow, but ineffectual, to boot! You
couldn’t depend on a dongle for business.
Computers don’t save work – they considerably
increase it. Neither, of course, do they
save time.
In
I have noticed my current computer getting
slower and slower and more and more ineffectual. Is it time I bought another one? Do I wish to repeat the same mistake, rather
like a man who divorces one woman only to marry another? Has he learnt anything? Have I?
Time will tell, though there is always the option of buying one of those
programs that rectify what causes a computer to slow down or malfunction –
another of those all-too-many ancillary purchases that computers and, more
especially, the Internet encourage.
Firefox is too cumbersome – it takes a long time to
start and is too fond of updates and upgrades for my liking. If this is the best browser
on the Internet …?
Kaspersky have not done themselves any favours with the
difficulty of activating their ‘Internet Security 2010’ product which
constantly returns an ‘Invalid SS-L certificate’ and has caused me hours of
mental torment. Really, I don’t think I
could renew this product ever again, given the difficulties of installing it in
the first place!
I really regret having bought a Belkin product some years ago which I have rarely used and
didn’t think very much of at the time.
But this firm has a way of popping up with a pitch page on one’s
computer when one least expects it, usurping one’s selected page with an
effrontery that beggars belief. I find
this not only offensive but underhand and disreputable. I would never buy another of their products,
least of all one designed to exchange files between two or more computers –
something that can be done perfectly well with an ftp program like ‘Core’ on
each computer and a mutual directory from one principal internet host.
The worst people on the Internet, in my
experience, are those who pull the plug or fold or give one the boot without giving
any explanation or apology. Here one
day, gone the next! In consequence of
which one’s work, files, etc., are lost for ever, kind of disappearing into the
Ethernet. Usually they are what I would
call foreigners with, I guess, limited communication skills.
My internet-ridden computer has been a living
hell – I want out!
I always place too many demands on my laptop,
which is simply not able to cope with the number and length of my files,
proceeding, if at all, at a snail’s pace.
My life goes downhill the moment I switch on the
computer.
Politicians in church amuse me. What kind of leaders are they?
Anyone who was a true leader – not an elected
politician – would set about the honourable task of giving the Church the coup de grace. Of consigning bibles, hymnals, prayer books,
and other related anachronisms to the rubbish bin of history, preferably through
mass incineration. Such, at any rate,
would be the intention of Social Theocracy.
They say ‘pride comes before a fall’, but in
the case of women ‘the fall’ ain’t so far – only into
strength, which owes not a little to ‘mother’s pride’ (not the bread).
I never wrote for money. Only for the pursuit of Truth … in the sense
both of religious truth and how, in overall terms, things tended to add up –
though, in the early days, this often took the paradoxical form of either
fiction or poetry.
I pride myself on the fact that I’ve never
written a play. Nor have I ever been to
the theatre and sat in front of one. The
worst I’ve ever done is written philosophical dialogues.
There are certain films one just can’t help but
admire, and ‘Valkyrie’ (2008) is a case in
point. The acting is breathtaking, the
suspense truly heroic, the sets astonishing, the cast mesmerizing, and there is even place for a
degree of ironic humour, as in the relationship – strained at the best of times
– between Keitel and Fromm,
played, I believe by Kenneth Cranham and Tom
Wilkinson respectively. An historical
masterpiece!
As was ‘Conspiracy’, with the very
excellent Kenneth Brannagh (also in the above) as Reinhard Heydrich, in the lead
role. Simply mesmerizing!
One day, certain people will have to sit around
a table – preferably round - to discuss the fate of the Bible, together with
correlative textural material, so that Europe can proceed to completely
liberate itself from the last bastion of materialist/fundamentalist (metachemical) anachronistic irrelevance and climb towards
the heavenly heights of a transcendentalist/idealist summit, fit culmination to
an evolutionary destiny.
My own preferred solution has always been
facility-centred incineration. That way,
the Bible and other such Creator-based material, giving virtual carte
blanche to the ‘increase and multiply’
ethos of Devil the Mother, with her
beautiful free will, could be not merely consigned to the rubbish bin of
history, but returned, so to speak, to its ‘Maker’ – something I’m sure John
Cowper Powys would have understood and probably even approved of, in that he
wasn’t so stupid as to believe that males precede females, as suggested by the
Bible, wherein ‘God’ creates woman out of one of Adam’s ribs. Really!
And this sort of stuff still officially obtains?!
Of course, once you start ridding society of
the Bible, which is a necessary step in the liberation of the mind from
illogical shackles and general nonsense more conducive, paradoxically, to the
advantage of females than of males, you necessarily have to free it from
priests as well, since their belief in ‘God’ is not compatible with the
achievement of Heaven (or, correlatively, the pseudo-Devil for pseudo-metachemical females), which rather transcends mere
idolatry. But, of course, there are
other religious anachronisms besides the so-called Christian that would also
have to be addressed in a ‘God’-free universe.
How a male can choose anything but heads, with
the toss of a coin, I absolutely fail to understand.
I always felt that the ideal place to work was
a foot or two from one’s bed. Hence my literary vocation.
The idea of being a lapsed Catholic doesn’t sit
easy with me. I don’t think I could ever
return to the Catholic fold even if I wasn’t a self-styled Social Theocrat,
given the six or so years I spent, as a boy, in a Protestant Children’s Home,
compliments of my mother, whose father had been a Donegal Presbyterian long
before he converted, nominally, to Catholicism to marry the woman destined to
become my maternal grandmother.
Some people are inclined to make an all-loving
whore out of God (of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father), whilst others
prefer Him as an all-knowing self-righteous pr**k (they would say Christ, but
it would actually be less ‘Son-of-Man’ than ‘Man-the-Father’ in free-psychic knowledge
rather than bound-somatic ignorance).
Either way, they deceive themselves (or are deceived) and debase
religion and, hence, God, who isn’t actually the main deal in metaphysics (the
religious element par excellence),
but a mere consequence (light-like) of soulful feeling (inner flame) and
therefore anything but a free-standing ‘thing-in-itself’ susceptible, as with
all false religion, to idolatrous worship.
Bah! People are there to be ruled
by the truly great, and thus delivered from error and superstition. Left to themselves, they drag everything,
including religion, down to the lowest-common-denominator.
I nearly said ‘led by the truly religious’, but
then no-one (or very few) would follow, and enlightened people usually have
enough insight to know that true enlightenment is not something that can be
pedalled to the masses like a commercial product. Frankly, you have to be akin to a ‘wolf in
sheep’s clothing’ to have any chance of meaningfully changing society for the
better, i.e. less false and more true, less political and more religious
(church-hegemonic axis), or less scientific and more economic (state-hegemonic
axis). Personally, I prefer more
religion and less politics, coupled to more pseudo-science and less
pseudo-economics. Hence
metaphysics and pseudo-metachemistry.
I am happier with the term ‘godfather’ than
with ‘God the Father’, simply because the latter is still tainted by ‘Creatorism’ (I use the term advisably) and, hence, Devil
the Mother hyped as God the Father, the root Judaic source from which both
Christianity and Islam derive their respective textural affiliations.
The term ‘God’ is immensely suspect, not least
when used in connection with ‘all powerful’ or ‘almighty’ or ‘great’, and other
such variations on a cosmos-derived fundamentalist or, more correctly,
materialist theme. Speaking
metaphorically, I feel inclined, à la Henry Miller,
to ‘reach for my revolver’ every time I hear it, i.e. ‘my God’, ‘good God!’,
‘God bless’, ‘God save’, etc. Usually it’s
anything but godliness (a consequence of Heaven) that is being cited, but some
‘thingful’ entity regarded as anterior to everything
else.
Satan has no more to do with the
diabolic than, say, Jehovah (as Creator-esque ‘First
Mover’) with the divine. That which is pseudo-metaphysical is
pseudo-God (in both pseudo-Father and, to a much less gender representative
extent, pseudo-Son, and it remains pseudo-godly so long as metachemical
devilry continues to scientifically rule the so-called religious roost. ‘Devil the Mother’ hyped as ‘God the Father’
remains the fundamental (though not fundamentalist) lie of false religion. It co-exists (materialistically) with ‘Hell the
Clear Spirit’, as Beauty with Love in metachemical
free soma, and (fundamentalistically, so to speak)
with ‘the Daughter of the Devil’ and ‘the Clear Soul of Hell’, as Ugliness with
Hatred in metachemical bound psyche, both of which
are considerably less prevalent (in metachemistry-proper)
than Beauty and Love.
We are all patients in the hospital of life.
It seems strange, when you are in a Children’s Home,
to be told by one of the house-parents that your mother loves you, especially
since she was the one who sent you there in the first place, doubtless to get
one out of the way so that she could marry someone else and carry on as though
nothing untoward had happened in the meantime.
I’m not pseudo-c**t or, more correctly,
quasi-pseudo-c**t (pseudo-bitch) enough to ever write another novel. I wrote my last one back in 1982, before I
learnt better. My last collection of short
prose was back in 1984, when I was still capable of being a quasi-superc**t (pseudo-superbitch). Most of the time since then I’ve been true to
myself as a male – a kind of philosophical superpr**k. Thank Heaven!
I admit to having been something of a poetic
pseudo-pr**k (block verse, usually free) and even pseudo-superpr**k
(lined stanzas, usually bound, or rhymed) back in my youth, but I was never a
quasi-c**t or a quasi-superc**t (pseudo-bitch or
pseudo-superbitch).
Drama, whether spiritual or wilful, verbal or mobile, has always been
taboo with me – creatively speaking.
A more abstract – and extreme – variant on the
metaphysical/pseudo-metachemical tier structure of
Social Theocratic Centrism could have more strictly chromosomal implications,
thus:-
Y
X
With a free Y (male) and a bound X
(female) white/black structure on a purple ground.
This is still commensurate with a combination
of global extreme right with global extreme pseudo-left, or noumenal
subjectivity with noumenal pseudo-objectivity, supercross and pseudo-superstar.
We can – and should – distinguish the Supercross (or supra-cross) from the absolute cross (+) of
Western tradition, including the swastika, which retains the rectilinear
properties of an alpha-stemming extrapolation from the absolute star
(superstar) as germane to Western civilization.
Hence the Supercross,
as outlined by me in both less and more absolute permutations, is implicitly,
if not explicitly, global, with curvilinear properties proper to metaphysics.
Blessed with free psyche in the Holiness of
Heaven and the Grace of God(liness),
one is, as a hegemonic male, metaphysically Saved … as to the noumenal subjectivity of perfect gender sync.
If I am ‘philosopher king’, it is because I’m
not politically or ideologically active enough to be ‘Messiah’, and not
traditionally conservative – or stupid – enough to play ‘Second Coming’. But, then, my celibacy also factors-in to my
peculiar kind of ‘kingship’, given that you need to retain a metaphysical
lifestyle as well as a capacity, correlative with that lifestyle, to deliver on
metaphysical truth. A familial philosopher, or a philosopher who has married and had
children – what is that? One could be a ‘professor of philosophy’ and live a
relatively worldly lifestyle, but so what?
Professors of philosophy and ‘philosopher kings’ are two entirely
different propositions, as I’m sure Schopenhauer would concur, having, like one
or two others that could be mentioned, abandoned the one for the other.
I could say, in American vein, that I’ve never
been grist to no broad’s mill – sexually speaking.
Put differently, if equivalently, I could say,
speaking personally, that I’m not coital grist to any woman’s reproductive
mill.
I like to live my life as though football
didn’t exist.
One thing I shall never be is a sports-mad sonofabitch.
Individualism is a luxury of peacetime,
collectivism a necessity of war.
Women are naturally – one might almost say
inherently – restless, largely because fundamentally vacuums and given to
drawing attention to themselves in terms of beauty’s claim to deference.
Less television and more radio would probably
correlate with less knife crime and more handgun crime.
A man may have godly attributes, but that
doesn’t make him God. God, or godliness,
is not susceptible to personification.
Technology is the pseudo-science intended for
the service of genuine religion. It is
equivalent to the neutralized dragon (pseudo-dragon) under the saintly heel,
and must be kept down, i.e. in its subordinate place.
It seems to me that O2 is a marketing clone of U2.
I have remained consistently aphoristic
throughout my literary career (vocation).
A man who buys another computer after
disillusionment with his previous one – which may or may not be his first – is
akin to a man who remarries after having gone through a divorce – in short, a
fool.
In a choice between the bitch TV and the
pseudo-bitch computer, the latter is undeniably the less foolish course, though
even pseudo-bitches can ‘screw one around’.
One cannot be a master and serve a mistress at
the same time.
I am one of those people whose thoughts can
excite a whole flurry of neighbourly discontent.
It is not the walls that have ears, but the
people behind them – some of whom can be females who think they are in a
relationship with one.
There is nothing worse than living with social
or intellectual inferiors who don’t encourage one to get on with one’s work,
but strive, consciously or unconsciously, deliberately or incidentally, to
thwart one at every turn.
Thus the combination of the difficulty of one’s
literary and internet activities coupled to the vagaries of computer technology
is doubly compounded by the opposition of one’s neighbours – the basis of a
dilemma almost guaranteed to drive one if not over then at the very least close
to the brink of one’s nervous toleration.
Bertrand Russell writes in, I think, an early
volume of essays entitled Mysticism and
Logic about a ‘free man’s worship’, but such a concept, notwithstanding
puritan worship of the New Testament, is really a contradiction in terms, since
one is only free when free from worship … of false gods. And, more importantly, free for (Nietzsche)
soulful self-realization which, if it doesn’t exactly exclude God, reduces him
or, rather it (superconscious mind), to both a
consequence and confirmation of precisely that self-realization, like a
close-lipped smile. But you don’t make
the mistake of personifying such a smile!
Behold the tight-lipped smile of the godly,
bearing effulgent witness to heavenly joy.
Free somatic superheathen
(supersensuous) beauty and love in metachemistry becomes, under metaphysical hegemonic
pressure, free psychic pseudo-subchristian
(pseudo-subconscious) pseudo-beauty and pseudo-love in pseudo-metachemistry, as though in a transmutation from evil to
pseudo-punishment.
Conversely, bound psychic subchristian
(subconscious) ugliness and hatred in metachemistry
becomes, under metaphysical hegemonic pressure, bound somatic pseudo-superheathen (pseudo-supersensuous)
pseudo-ugliness and pseudo-hatred in pseudo-metachemistry,
as though in a transmutation from crime to pseudo-goodness.
Free psychic superchristian
(superconscious) joy and truth in metaphysics
becomes, under metachemical hegemonic pressure, free
somatic pseudo-subheathen (pseudo-subsensuous)
pseudo-joy and pseudo-truth in pseudo-metaphysics, as though in a transmutation
from grace to pseudo-folly.
Conversely, bound somatic subheathen
(subsensuous) woe and illusion in metaphysics becomes,
under metachemical hegemonic pressure, bound psychic
pseudo-superchristian (pseudo-superconscious)
pseudo-woe and pseudo-illusion in pseudo-metaphysics, as though in a
transmutation from wisdom to pseudo-sin.
Free somatic heathen (sensuous) pride and
strength in chemistry becomes, under physical hegemonic pressure, free psychic
pseudo-christian (pseudo-conscious) pseudo-pride and
pseudo-strength in pseudo-chemistry, as though in a transmutation from
pseudo-evil to punishment.
Conversely, bound psychic unchristian
(unconscious) pseudo-humility and pseudo-weakness in chemistry becomes, under
physical hegemonic pressure, bound somatic pseudo-unheathen
(pseudo-unsensuous) pseudo-humility and
pseudo-weakness in pseudo-chemistry, as though in a transmutation from
pseudo-crime to goodness.
Free psychic christian (conscious) knowledge and pleasure in
physics becomes, under chemical hegemonic pressure, free somatic pseudo-heathen
(pseudo-sensuous) pseudo-knowledge and pseudo-pleasure in pseudo-physics, as
though in a transmutation from pseudo-grace to folly.
Conversely, bound somatic unheathen
(unsensuous) ignorance and pain in physics becomes, under
chemical hegemonic pressure, bound psychic pseudo-unchristian
(pseudo-unconscious) pseudo-ignorance and pseudo-pain in pseudo-physics, as
though in a transmutation from pseudo-wisdom to sin.
For me, philosophy comes easier than
autobiography, which is what this project is largely supposed to be!
Am I really Irish? I might have an Irish passport, but, after
over fifty years in
All my schools were in
I would feel ridiculous confessing sins to a
priest, partly because I don’t consider myself a sinner and partly because … I
detest the religious limitations of Catholicism, not to mention Christianity in
general.
As a boy, I found life in
I bought John Mayall
albums back in the late 60s, in Sutton, not least the wonderful Blues from Laurel Canyon in, I think,
1969. Forty years later, I’m still
buying John Mayall albums, including 2009’s Tough, which is significantly different
from his albums with Buddy Whittington on guitar, but still recognizably Mayall…. This guy is not only the so-called ‘Father of
British Blues’, he’s the voice and soul of the Blues from a British perspective
in America, since his recent bands, including the last one, are predominantly
American. Therefore from the ‘Father of
British Blues’ to the ‘Son of American Blues’ or perhaps even the ‘Spirit of
American Blues’, which is, after all, the true home of the Blues. Phenomenal!
I detest bow ties and, by association, the
people who wear them. Previously I would
have justified this detestation on the basis of an anti-upper-class
sentiment. Now I see that, while that
still obtains to a degree, it is the X-factor that I especially detest. Like the Nazi swastika when hung at an angle,
bow ties are X-like in shape or style, thus betraying a centrifugal bias akin
to metachemical objectivity and a chromosomal
affinity with the free bitch or, rather, superbitch,
the kind of female likely to be seen in a flounced dress. One could say that bow ties stand in a kind
of polar relationship, on the state-hegemonic axis, to long or straight ties,
as generally worn by pr**ks, the latter-day
middle-class and, in historical terms, ‘roundhead’ opponents of ‘cavaliers’,
whose upper-class predilections, rooted in Anglicanism, need no sartorial or other
apology.
No, I’m not a tie-wearer, neither of the one
nor the other kind, since state-hegemonic axial criteria are unattractive to
me, as, for that matter, are traditional church-hegemonic criteria and the
tendency of conventional or ‘straight’ Catholic males towards open-neck collar
shirts, as though the pseudo-physical subordinate corollary of the
flounced-skirt predilection (traditionally) of chemical females, their ‘Marian’
counterparts.
The only thing I hate worse than romantic songs
is … political correctness, particularly when applying to feminism and its latter-day
offshoots.
Do people really speak their minds these
days? It could be argued that most
people, accustomed to servility, don’t have minds to speak in the first place
and that this accords perfectly well with democracy’s toleration of so-called
‘free speech’.
I never thought much of fiction, except as a
vehicle for the introduction – amorally, as it turns out – of philosophy, which
has always been my raison d’être for writing. One day, I figured that I might as well just
write philosophy as dabble in quasi-pseudo-bitchful
fiction.
Philosophy makes my writings important.
I may not feel particularly Irish after all
this time in
The combination, in the noumenal
realms of space and time, of metaphysics and pseudo-metachemistry
= theocracy and pseudo-autocracy, time and pseudo-space.
The combination, by axial contrast, of metachemistry and pseudo-metaphysics = autocracy and
pseudo-theocracy, space and pseudo-time.
The combination, down below in the phenomenal
realms of volume and mass, of physics and chemistry = plutocracy and
pseudo-democracy, mass and pseudo-volume.
The combination, by axial contrast, of
chemistry and pseudo-physics = democracy and pseudo-plutocracy, volume and
pseudo-mass.
Traditionally, the genuine element has the
better of the ‘pseudo’ one polar to itself in gender terms on either axis. Hence on the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate
axis (northeast to southwest), theocracy has the better of pseudo-plutocracy on
the male side of the gender divide, but democracy has the better of
pseudo-autocracy on its female side.
Likewise, on the
state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis (northwest to southeast), autocracy has
the better of pseudo-democracy on the female side of the gender divide, but
plutocracy has the better of pseudo-theocracy on its male side.
/ MORALITY \
IMMORALITY AMORALITY
\
UNMORALITY /
Pressure on unmorality
by amorality descending from above (morality) results in immorality ascending
from below (unmorality), to destabilize and usurp
morality.
If morality is clear, then unmorality
will be unholy. Therefore an amoral
approach (descending from above) to unholiness will
result in an immoral approach (ascending from below) to clearness.
Conversely, if morality is holy, then unmorality will be unclear.
Therefore an amoral approach (descending from above) to unclearness will
result in an immoral approach (ascending from below) to holiness.
For several years I had my hair in a
ponytail. Then one day I decided to cut
my hair shorter (though it was still relatively long), and, eventually, fed up
with indecisiveness and a questionable accuracy and consistency of cut, I
forced myself to do what had previously been the unthinkable and go to a barber
to have it cut short professionally.
These days I see that I couldn’t resort to a
ponytail again because, even with the possible desire – often perceived by detractors
– to compensate for a receding hairline, I couldn’t accept the ringful necessity of binding it – just another kind of sonofabitch ring, like earrings and finger rings worn by
males or, more accurately, pseudo-males of one kind or another.
When ‘ignorance was bliss’, as they say, it was
a different matter. But, nowadays, I am
too enlightened on that score (the subject of ponytails) to ever want to
reverse time. Besides, there are other
ways of compensating for a receding hairline – like beards and moustaches!
Christ isn’t God. The so-called Creator or ‘Father’ isn’t
God. God is neither a person nor a star
(absolute in the case of the so-called Father, or Devil the Mother hyped as God
the Father). God, as I said before, is
merely the corollary of Heaven, which is metaphysical soul (joy).
You can have a close-lipped smile motivated by
joy, and be godly (as proof of the existence of heavenly soul), but that
doesn’t make one God. Probably it is
possible to be more than momentarily godly on a supra-human (cyborgistic) basis, but that remains to be seen, in
consequence of what is felt.
Does the chrysalis precede the butterfly? Of course.
Does the egg precede the chicken? Naturally. Or can’t they tell the difference between eggs
and chickens?
I don’t think I have ever eaten chicken and
eggs. Have you?
The end of the egg is the chicken, but the
means to the chicken is the egg. Simple logic.
Often, people nip the chicken in the bud, so to
speak, by eating the egg.
Means and ends are intertwined. You can no more have good means to a bad end
than bad means to a good end. Both the
egg (means) and the chicken (ends) are good, since one finds pleasure – and use
– in each. Should the chicken or,
rather, chick survive and grow into a hen, the probability is that the hen will
eventually lay an egg and perpetuate the virtuous cycle of a good means to a
good (even better) end.
The virtual purgatory of computing – how often
one is left in a kind of limbo while the computer tries to sort itself out or …
hopelessly fails. If televisions are
mechanical bitches, then it seems to me that computers are akin to
pseudo-bitches … that require to be treated with immense circumspection.
Sometimes it’s very difficult to triumph over
technology. But it is religiously essential!
Metaphysics over pseudo-metachemistry
at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial
compass – supercross over pseudo-superstar (as
defined earlier in relation to a contiguously-encircled [bound] absolute star)
may well be equivalent to indoor gridiron over basketball, with or without a
baseball-like administrative aside. Why
not?
I believe it was me who distinguished the
circle in the square as ‘ringful’ from the square in
the circle as ‘badgeful’ – neither of which could
logically be other than that, precisely because we have a
centrifugal/centripetal dichotomy between female-dominated vacuums (rings) and
male-dominated plenums (badges) at the northwest and northeast points,
respectively, of the intercardinal axial compass,
where absolutism of one form or another is the mean.
Of the two, I always preferred Sartre to Koestler, seeing in Sartre a ‘kindred spirit’ who, despite
a regrettable penchant for plays, dominated the philosophy of his time.
A 66-year-old balding, potbellied Christ
hanging on the Cross would never have become the symbol that Christians have
been following, on and off, for 2000 years.
On the contrary, he would have been forgotten within days, if not hours,
like hundreds if not thousands of other poor devils subjected to crucifixion.
It’s easier to start writing than it is to
stop. Writing has a way of gathering
momentum and running away with itself.
The trick is to apply the metaphorical brakes in good time.
Mr Aziz endlessly up
and down the bare stairs he had put in for the attic conversion – a zombie on
the loose. Also the
landlord spider who rubs in one’s status as a flea in his web. I really ought to move, but the problem is I
don’t like spiders. Besides, fleas have
limited options, and my experience of lodging houses in the past has made it
doubly difficult for me to face the prospect of moving to another one in the
future. Ideally, I would prefer to rent
– simply because I can’t afford to buy - a detached property in the country,
well away from stupid neighbours, and preferably in the land of my birth.
When I was about fourteen or fifteen they made
me a patrol leader in the Baden-Powells – Squirrel
Patrol, if I remember correctly. I
enjoyed being a patrol leader, as also carrying a knife and playing splits,
whereby one threw the knife into the ground to either side of an opponent and
made him stretch out a leg to it or fail to, as the case might be. In those days, I could be a quasi-bitch and
not know it!
We were the 5th Carshalton. But I never knew how many scout troupes there
were in Carshalton, or where the others met.
So it’s 2010.
A hundred years since Winston Churchill, Liberal, opened Britain’s first
Labour Exchange. The modern Job Centre
derives from that. What can you say? Winston Churchill was a great man.
I don’t blame Jews for not being overly fond of
the Cross. If I were a Jew I wouldn’t be,
either. One reason why
the supercross-cum-supracross must be altogether
different from a cross.
I can still remember receiving my first Gideon
New Testament, a grey softback, from Mr Johnson Jr. at the Baptist church in Carshalton Beeches. I felt as though liberated … from the King
James Bible and, by implication, the Old Testament. No-one could be less frigging Nietzschean …
I was never a numbskull before I moved, or was
obliged to move, up to north London from Surrey. That was 1974, and since then I haven’t known
a day without cerebral pins and needles, a kind of cerebral clamp or pressure
that some would equate with being nerdy and which I regard as a form of
cerebral numbness. Hence
the expression ‘numbskull’. I
don’t know that I could ever be free of it, but I guess I would have to move
well out of London to somewhere less depressing, which is to say, less built-up
and noisy and overcrowded and congested and …
I’ve never liked Crouch End/Hornsey, or
Finsbury Park, where I lived at my mother and stepfather’s flat for a few
months after moving to north London.
That is why I have always been alone and … celibate. Effectively without ‘sin’.
I’ve always had the feeling that I was too good
for (better than) the country and environments I grew up in.
I no more believe in male angels than in female
saints. Saints, for me, are always male
and angels female – the bottled up pseudo-female, more correctly, under
male-hegemonic control.
Similarly, I could no more believe in male
whores than in female demons. Demons,
for me, are always male or, more correctly, pseudo-male, and whores female –
the free, hegemonic female holding sway over a subordinate pseudo-male (sonofabitch).
However, in either case you have to distinguish
the genuine from the pseudo, like genuine whores from their ‘pseudo’
counterparts, the former metachemical and the latter
chemical, or pseudo-demons from their genuine counterparts, the former
pseudo-metaphysical and the latter pseudo-physical.
Likewise, one has to distinguish genuine saints
from their ‘pseudo’ counterparts, the former metaphysical and the latter
physical, or pseudo-angels from their genuine counterparts, the former pseudo-metachemical and the latter chemical.
Hence the
state-hegemonic/church-subordinate polarities between whores and angels
(female, primary) and pseudo-demons and pseudo-saints (male, secondary), as
against the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate polarities between saints and
demons (male, primary) and pseudo-angels and pseudo-whores (female, secondary). But
I’ve gone into all this before.
I returned after an absence of several months
with long hair and a leather coat to receive the school history prize from, as
it turned out, the deputy head, Mr Price, who greeted me cordially and reminded
me of why I had held him in high esteem when still at school. He was the antithesis of everything pompous
or pretentious, a down-to-earth Welshman with a patient manner who taught
English literature.
I think, when push comes to shove, I am more
Identifying with things Irish is not easy for
me, and often I have to pull myself up short of being carried away by a
sentimental delusion. Although born in
No wonder I generally despise the Irish. Most of the time they don’t
deliver on their promises. They
can’t even produce newspapers that are free of the most stupid and inexplicable
typographical errors – reading an Irish newspaper is one of the most
frustrating experiences I know, what with numerous blunders on any given page,
and even the facts don’t add up or are subject to gross distortion or
exaggeration or contradiction. One
wonders whether papers like ‘The
There aren’t too many Irish
musicians who don’t make me cringe – perhaps Gary Moore (to the extent that
he’s Irish), Philip Donnelly, Phil Lynott (not
invariably kosher), Davy Spillane, Don Baker, and Maire Brennan. But most
of them … what a bunch of hyped-up mediocrities.
If the Israelis did despise the Irish (as was
alleged in regard to the recent passports fiasco in which the forged identities
of several Irish and British citizens were utilized by what was presumed to be an
Israeli hit squad in the execution of a terrorist-related assassination) I
wouldn’t altogether blame them, much as I despise any form or degree of Creatorism and Old Testamentism,
fundamentalism or free starism, so to speak, and only
find the Irish admirable when they give all that short shrift in pursuance, at
least as far as males are concerned, of a pro-transcendentalist stance.
Bruce Arnold is one of the better Irish
journalists in the ‘Irish Independent’, as is Kevin Myers, Ian O’Doherty, Lise Hand, James
Downey, David McWilliams, and Kim Bielenberg, who
tend to prove the theory that if you’ve got a brain you look after your own
typography – pretty much.
My nearest neighbour, Mr Hawkins, is
indubitably the most obnoxious, underhand, shabby, degenerate, uncouth wretch I’ve
ever known … or ever hope to know. Two minutes is too long in his company, as
in the communal kitchen, given the extent of his not very well-disguised
deprecatory thoughts, which are pure psychological poison. Even if there were a Creator, I would hate
‘Him’ for having created such a despicable florid-faced creep. It is partly because of people like Hawkins that
I’m unable to believe in a Creator God.
As for the ‘God’ who said ‘love thy neighbour
as thyself’ … well, what can I say? I’ve
always had a problem with that
concept. As with the concept of ‘God as
Man’, ‘God made Flesh’, ‘God come down to Earth’, and all that kind of
crap. They succeeded in turning Christ
into a sonofabitch when they made him flesh as a boy
on his mother’s knees or in her arms and, later, after he’d got the better of
her, as a figure limply hanging on the Cross, on the ‘right-hand side’, axially
speaking, of the Devil-the-Mother ‘God’ of Free Will in back of the Western
extrapolation, the Middle Eastern Judaic anchor to both Marian and Christic extrapolations tarred by the same ‘thingful’ brush as would attend the absolute star (stellar-like)
from which the notion of ‘Creator’ evidently derives – with all its beautiful
free will.
Inconceivable that female priests, or
Protestant ministers, would advise the males of their family-affirming mixed
congregations to abandon wives, sisters, mothers, daughters, girlfriends, etc.,
to follow Christ towards that metaphysical summit which stands hegemonically over pseudo-metachemical
pseudo-females like St George over a neutralized dragon, a ‘lion’ that, like jumpjets on aircraft carriers, is obliged to ‘lie down’
with the chopper-like ‘lamb’ that ‘calls the shots’ from a plane above it at
the northeast point of the intercardinal axial
compass. Rather, would they be more
inclined, these female ministers, to affirm family values and, hence, the ‘world’. Though, where female hegemonies are
concerned, i.e. in terms of chemistry over pseudo-physics at the southwest
point of the said compass, that would be more Catholic than Protestant. Ironic, what?
The statue-worshipping sonofabitch
is unlikely to have much time for pornography, let alone erotica, when he is
conditioned – as he is – to defer to the ‘concrete’ at the expense of the
‘abstract’, for which he ought, as a male (nominally) to have if not a natural
then, at any rate, a nurtural, or psychic,
predilection. For abstraction always
accrues to a male-hegemonic elemental position, be it physical (and humanist)
or metaphysical (and transcendentalist), relative or absolute, phenomenal or noumenal, of neutronic molecular wavicles or of photonic elemental wavicles,
of the ego or of the soul.
The worshipper of figurative sculpture, say the
so-called ‘Blessed Virgin’ or ‘Mother of God’ (sic), will find it difficult if
not impossible to appreciate abstract art.
His concrete-conditioned predilection will be towards so-called
representational art – figurative paintings of a pseudo-religious order,
reflective of female dominion, and therefore of a predominating somatic
(bodily) disposition.
An ‘abstract female’ strikes me as being as
much of a contradiction as … a ‘concrete male’ – the latter of whom must surely
be a mad (gender upended) sonofabitch as the former a
mad (gender upended) daughterofabastard, so to speak.
The puritanical bastards in the Children’s Home
I had been sent to by my self-serving mother ensured that I didn’t get sent,
following a short spell at Barrowhedges Junior
School, to the local mixed school but, rather, to an all-boys school several
miles away, to which, perforce, I was obliged to walk every day, come rain or
shine. The school, of course, taught one
nothing about inter-gender skills, but seemed bent upon turning young boys into
homosexuals for life. I suspect that the
girls at the nearby all-girls school were likewise prepared for a lesbian
future in which males were to be looked down upon – not altogether unreasonably
– as unromantic boors and sexual incompetents.
Which sounds like a typically English character trait.
Naturally, the
No, I believe my sexuality was systematically
screwed, along with a number of other things, from the beginning, both by the
puritan regime obtaining in the Children’s Home, the nature of my schooling, health
problems (including the draining of a life-threatening abscess from my appendix
and subsequent appendectomy and apparent stitching of a concomitant hernia in
two separate operations a year apart) and, subsequently, by forbidding
landlords and/or landladies who compounded what was already a difficult
situation, in view of my modest upbringing and insalubrious background, by
discouraging amorous or, indeed, any relations with the opposite sex.
Finally, when you come from such an
underprivileged background as I did, and are extremely myopic and dependent on
spectacles a lot of the time, it seems only too inevitable that you should go
through life completely alone, without any form of sexual companionship. Which, in some respects, is
an advantage, given the hideous superficiality and vulgarity of most people,
not least females, in this democratic age.
I can’t watch more than five minutes of
football on TV, as a rule, without wanting to throw up, particularly when they
head the ball. To my mind, such people would
be incapable of even the most rudimentary degree of religious sensibility.
I always prefer my electronic-keyboard-instrumental
music to anyone else’s music. It is
immeasurably superior to all that philistine vocal-pissed-upon rock crap or,
more correctly, pseudo-crap.
I hate rock singers going on about love.
My great impossibles:-
Jon
Anderson – he makes even Neil Young sound like a man;
Graham
Nash – he still reminds me of the Hollies;
Rory
Gallagher – I wish this talented musician hadn’t done those overblown endings
(cadences in classical music) quite so often;
Rod
Stewart – his antipathy to jeans has always struck me as socially
indefensible. Makes Dylan sound
sonorous;
Cliff
Richard – preferred him in ‘The Young Ones’ to singing at Billy Graham
crusades.
Engelbert Humperdinck – Engelbert what?!
In the Catholic Church they expect you to
confess sins even before you’ve reached puberty. Moreover, they tend to think, erroneously,
that females and males are equally guilty of sin, irrespective of the fact
that, in chemistry, females are more prone to pseudo-evil and pseudo-crime
than, like their pseudo-physical counterparts, to folly and sin, free soma and
bound psyche from a pseudo-male standpoint.
The Catholic Church would be capable of
throwing the filth of sin (not to mention folly) over even the most innocent of
children.
I can’t remember for the life of me what kind
of sins I confessed to when eight or nine, but I certainly gave it a go!
There must be people who continue to confess
sins, or what they believe to be such, well into old age simply because it has
become habitual with them and they don’t know how to stop.
Contrasting female divergence with male
convergence, objectivity (from a vacuum) with subjectivity (in relation to a
plenum), is equivalent to contrasting what I like to call ‘outsanity’,
or outer sanity, with ‘insanity’, or inner sanity – in other words, centrifugal
somatic extroversion with centripetal psychic introversion, as though in an
alpha/omega dichotomy between metachemistry and
metaphysics on the noumenal (ethereal) planes of
space and time, and chemistry and physics on the phenomenal (corporeal) planes
of volume and mass.
With metachemistry
and pseudo-metaphysics at the northwest point of the intercardinal
axial compass, noumenal divergence over noumenal pseudo-convergence = noumenal
outsanity over noumenal
pseudo-insanity, absolute objectivity over absolute pseudo-subjectivity.
With metaphysics over pseudo-metachemistry at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial compass, noumenal
convergence over noumenal pseudo-divergence = noumenal insanity over noumenal
pseudo-outsanity, absolute subjectivity over absolute
pseudo-objectivity.
With chemistry over pseudo-physics at the
southwest point of the intercardinal axial compass,
phenomenal divergence over phenomenal pseudo-convergence = phenomenal outsanity over phenomenal pseudo-insanity, relative
objectivity over relative pseudo-subjectivity.
With physics over pseudo-chemistry at the
southeast point of the intercardinal axial compass,
phenomenal convergence over phenomenal pseudo-divergence = phenomenal insanity
over phenomenal pseudo-outsanity, relative
subjectivity over relative pseudo-objectivity.
Worse than the pseudo-insane unmoral pseudo-male
is the quasi-outsane immoral quasi-female, the
unhinged pseudo-male who, succumbing to amoral pressure coming down from above,
takes a ratio, whether absolute or relative, favouring bound-psychic negativity
immorally ‘upstairs’ … towards the hegemonic female’s moral elemental
position(s).
Worse than the pseudo-outsane
unmoral pseudo-female is the quasi-insane immoral quasi-male, the unhinged
pseudo-female who, succumbing to amoral pressure coming down from above, takes
a ratio, whether absolute or relative, favouring bound-somatic negativity
immorally ‘upstairs’ … to the hegemonic male’s moral elemental position(s).
To contrast the noumenal
objectivity (doing) of metachemistry with the noumenal pseudo-subjectivity (pseudo-being) of pseudo-metaphysics,
as one would contrast space with pseudo-time, or free will with bound soul.
To contrast the phenomenal objectivity (giving)
of chemistry with the phenomenal pseudo-subjectivity (pseudo-taking) of
pseudo-physics, as one would contrast volume with pseudo-mass, or free spirit
with bound ego.
To contrast the phenomenal subjectivity
(taking) of physics with the phenomenal pseudo-objectivity (pseudo-giving) of
pseudo-chemistry, as one would contrast mass with pseudo-volume, or free ego
with bound spirit.
To contrast the noumenal
subjectivity (being) of metaphysics with the noumenal
pseudo-objectivity (pseudo-doing) of pseudo-metachemistry,
as one would contrast time with pseudo-space, or free soul with bound will.
Philosophy is my heaven, my release from the
world, which is why I seldom succeed in remaining or being autobiographical for
long – given the painful and humbling nature of my past. Yet this text is still, relatively speaking,
an autobiography, and will be marketed as such.
Bodily people are always more ‘outsane’ than ‘insane’, that is, heathenistic
than christianistic, star than cross, given the
female nature of the thing. With them ‘mental’ is automatically a term of
opprobrium, whereas ‘physical’ is virtually de rigueur or, at any rate, the more acceptable, because
traditionally prevalent, state-of-affairs.
I have taken philosophy as far as it can go,
that is, to a definitive insight into metaphysics, with correlative knowledge
of (the positions and comparative significances of) physics, chemistry, and,
last and least, metachemistry,
the free-will bitch whose beauty, going back to the so-called ‘Creator’,
continues to tyrannize over life in the interests, needless to add, of a
reproductive resolution. What’s rooted,
spatially, in infinity will not permit eternity to transpire unless defeated by
those for whom the triumph of repetitive time, or time
per se, is the
be-all-and-end-all of evolutionary progress.
Soul can only be free when Will is bound, and bound absolutely, as the
pseudo-metachemical corollary of a metaphysical
hegemony favouring male freedom.
To contrast the ethereal concretion of protonic elemental particles with the ethereal
pseudo-abstraction of pseudo-photonic pseudo-elemental wavicles,
as one would contrast the noumenally objective ‘outsanity’ of metachemistry with
the noumenally pseudo-subjective ‘pseudo-insanity’ of
pseudo-metaphysics, the scientific free will of the spatial extreme left with
the pseudo-religious bound soul of the sequential extreme pseudo-right.
To contrast the corporeal concretion of
electronic molecular particles with the corporeal pseudo-abstraction of pseudo-neutronic pseudo-molecular wavicles,
as one would contrast the phenomenally objective ‘outsanity’
of chemistry with the phenomenally pseudo-subjective ‘pseudo-insanity’ of
pseudo-physics, the political free spirit of the volumetric moderate left with
the pseudo-economic bound ego of the massed moderate pseudo-right.
To contrast the corporeal abstraction of neutronic molecular wavicles with
the corporeal pseudo-concretion of pseudo-electronic pseudo-molecular
particles, as one would contrast the phenomenally subjective ‘insanity’ of
physics with the phenomenally pseudo-objective ‘pseudo-outsanity’
of pseudo-chemistry, the economic free ego of the massive moderate right with
the pseudo-political bound spirit of the voluminous moderate pseudo-left.
To contrast the ethereal abstraction of
photonic elemental wavicles with the ethereal
pseudo-concretion of pseudo-protonic pseudo-elemental
particles, as one would contrast the noumenally
subjective ‘insanity’ of metaphysics with the noumenally
pseudo-objective ‘pseudo-outsanity’ of pseudo-metachemistry, the religious free soul of the repetitive
extreme right with the pseudo-scientific bound will of the spaced extreme
pseudo-left.
Most people mistakenly identify madness with
insanity when, in actuality, it is the pseudo-outsane
and pseudo-insane who are technically ‘mad’, that is to say, somatically and/or
psychically reversed by subordination to the hegemonic gender whose freedom and
binding ‘calls the shots’, be it female (and somatically free but psychically
bound) or male (and psychically free but somatically bound).
The ‘insane’, or those whose sanity is inner
(and psychic) are no more mad than the ‘outsane’, or
those whose sanity is outer (and somatic); they are simply sane, i.e. in sync
with gender reality, be it soma preceding and predominating over psyche
(female) or psyche preceding and preponderating over soma (male), in opposite
ways, whether absolutely (3:1) or relatively (2½:1½), in noumenal
(ethereal) or phenomenal (corporeal) terms – a distinction, after all, between
clearness and holiness in relation to metachemistry
and metaphysics respectively, but (between) pseudo-clearness and
pseudo-holiness in relation to chemistry and physics.
The pseudo-metaphysical and the pseudo-metachemical are pseudo-unholy and pseudo-unclear
respectively, whereas the pseudo-physical and the pseudo-chemical are
respectively unholy and unclear.
Hence the combination of clearness
and pseudo-unholiness with metachemistry
and pseudo-metaphysics – a distinction between whores and pseudo-demons.
Hence the combination of holiness
and pseudo-unclearness with metaphysics and pseudo-metachemistry
– a distinction between saints and pseudo-angels.
Hence the combination of
pseudo-clearness and unholiness with chemistry and
pseudo-physics – a distinction between pseudo-whores and demons.
Hence the combination of
pseudo-holiness and unclearness with physics and pseudo-chemistry – a
distinction between pseudo-saints and angels.
To contrast the vanity of whores with the
pseudo-meekness of pseudo-demons, as one would contrast evil and crime with
pseudo-folly and pseudo-sin in the free soma and bound psyche of metachemistry and pseudo-metaphysics.
To contrast the righteousness of saints with
the pseudo-justice of pseudo-angels, as one would contrast grace and wisdom
with pseudo-evil and pseudo-crime in the free psyche and bound soma of
metaphysics and pseudo-metachemistry.
To contrast the pseudo-vanity of pseudo-whores
with the meekness of demons, as one would contrast pseudo-crime and pseudo-evil
with sin and folly in the bound psyche and free soma of chemistry and
pseudo-physics.
To contrast the
pseudo-righteousness of pseudo-saints with the justice of angels, as one would
contrast pseudo-wisdom and pseudo-grace with goodness and punishment in the
bound soma and free psyche of physics and pseudo-chemistry.
The British pride themselves, rightly, on their
justice, the justice of angels; the Irish on their righteousness, the
righteousness of saints. A distinction between state-hegemonic and church-hegemonic axial
criteria, with correspondingly different gender emphases.
Infinite space is spatial and hegemonically co-exists, at the northwest point of the intercardinal axial compass, with the sequential time (pseudo-time)
of the pseudo-Eternal, as metachemistry with
pseudo-metaphysics.
Eternal time is repetitive and hegemonically co-exists, at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial compass, with the spaced space
(pseudo-space) of the pseudo-Infinite, as metaphysics with pseudo-metachemistry.
Finite volume is volumetric and hegemonically co-exists, at the southwest point of the intercardinal axial compass, with the massed mass
(pseudo-mass) of the pseudo-Temporal, as chemistry with pseudo-physics.
Temporal mass is massive and hegemonically co-exists, at the southeast point of the intercardinal axial compass, with the voluminous volume
(pseudo-volume) of the pseudo-Finite, as physics with pseudo-chemistry.
Just as the pseudo-Finite is axially half-way
to the Infinite, and the Finite axially half-way to the pseudo-Infinite, so the
pseudo-Finite is bi-axially the whole way from the Finite and the pseudo-Infinite
bi-axially the whole way from the Infinite.
Just as the pseudo-Temporal is axially half-way
to the Eternal and the Temporal axially half-way to the pseudo-Eternal, so the
pseudo-Temporal is bi-axially the whole way from the Temporal and the pseudo-Eternal
bi-axially the whole way from the Eternal.
I once bought a rubber condom from a barber
shop in Carshalton Beeches, Surrey, when I was about fourteen or fifteen, just
for a dare from some local friends, but I never used it and, to this day, I
still haven’t used, or found cause to use, a condom. Quite apart from the fact that I’ve never had
sex, I suppose I must have some inbuilt aversion to such things deriving from a
catholic inheritance.
I guess I was always too conscious, despite an
enforced Protestant upbringing, of being of Irish Catholic descent in England to
be much interested in the local girls, many of whom, in any case, would not
have been interested in me, even if I hadn’t been hamstrung by a variety of restrictions,
both physiological and psychological, appertaining to the Children’s Home and
in no position to assume a romantic role or predilection. Besides, I’ve always had a certain aversion
to propagating the O’Loughlin name not only because I
live in England and have no desire to inflict England on anyone born with my
surname, but also because, never having known my father, I don’t consider his
name worth perpetuating, not having had the benefit of a father’s love or
support and having, in consequence, absolutely no ambitions of that nature
myself.
When my father died of booze-complicated
pneumonia in Galway, prematurely as it turned out, there was no mention,
according to my mother (who received news and journalistic proof of his death
through the post) of his ever having
married in the obituary in the local Galway paper – quite understandably, in a
way, since his relatives would not have wanted it publicly known that he had a
wife and son, whom he abandoned years before and had paid nothing to in the meantime,
living in Aldershot, England, to which country his wife had returned with her
Galway mother after their marriage had ‘hit the rocks’ of an
ethnically-complicated misalliance. Thus
the concealment or ‘cover up’ of my father’s past familial misadventures went
‘hand in glove’ with this exile of his son in, of all places, Aldershot, home
to the British military, where he was destined to remain in companionless
solitude and increasingly poor health until, following the death of his
maternal grandmother, he was dispatched by his mother to a Children’s Home in
Carshalton Beeches, Surrey, there to spend the next six years under a
Protestant dispensation, with absolutely no appeal or redress. No wonder I find people – and my parents most
of all – so detestable, and am still celibate at fifty-seven, never having
married or fostered children. Frankly, I
have no familial ambitions whatsoever, given the nature of my background and
parentage. I live, to the extent I live
at all, for my philosophy and the ideology of Social
Theocracy/Transcendentalism, which I invented as an antidote to both life as
‘we’ know it and, more especially, as I know
it. This philosophy is essentially about
man’s overcoming in the interests of a more evolved cyborgistic/bionic
future.
Those who point a finger at me, accusing me of
being this and that – low, a bum, rubbish, bent, homosexual, selfish,
unsociable, an outsider, etc., don’t know the half of it, nor, in most
instances, would they be capable of knowing or understanding anything about me
and what makes me tick. The
superficiality and crass vulgarity of such people – most of whom are females - only
further contributes towards my detestation of the generality of mankind.
Friendless, I live and suffer alone, above and
beyond the competitive travails and vulgar ambitions of this world with its
gender and social delusions, like Prometheus or Christ or Bunyan’s Pilgrim, who
eventually attained to the ‘celestial city’ of his heavenly imaginings.
Of the two great ‘higher-minded’
nineteenth-century German philosophers, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, I have
always preferred Schopenhauer, who had the sense and moral insight to ‘see
through’ this world and reject it in favour of … but no, it was left to
Nietzsche to try and come up with a ‘free for’ as against a ‘free from’, and in
some respects he almost succeeded, not least in relation to his concept of the
‘Superman’ and its corollary that ‘man is something that should be
overcome’. I believe my interpretation
of that differs substantially from Nietzsche’s, but I doubt that I would have
got started along the path to ‘man overcoming’, never mind brought it to a
successful theoretical conclusion, had it not been for Nietzsche and his
developmental progress beyond Schopenhauer.
Nevertheless, there is something about the ‘will to power’ ethos, even
over oneself (ostensibly his real motive), that leaves me cold and misses the
point that Schopenhauer was able to so thoroughly grasp – namely that will and
power, or willpower, are the chief obstacles in the way of soulful contentment,
the true end of man, which is effectively as far removed, à
la Schopenhauer, from all that is wilfully powerful as it’s possible for
anything or, rather, anyone to be. Just as a denial of the spirit, of free spirit, is crucial to the
freedom of ego in physics, so the denial of the will, of free will, is crucial
to the freedom of soul in metaphysics.
It is, in either case, a male verses female battle, and ultimate victory
to the male is only possible, axially considered, on the basis of free soul and
the absolute defeat, in consequence, of free will, the methodology of which I
have, of course, outlined in several previous texts or works.
But free soul is not a vacuum, or nothing, a
mere release from pain, as Schopenhauer tended to argue in his refusal to
acknowledge the inherent positivity of male, or
metaphysical, soul. It is certainly
no-thing, because a psychic plenum, and can be switched on, naturally or, more
significantly, artificially, with the aid of synthetic stimulants. It is the artificial or synthetic ‘switching
on’ of the soul that will constitute its freedom in the cyborgistic
future, which I tend to identify with ‘Kingdom Come’, and it will be the
prerogative only of metaphysical males after the coming to pass, with
‘Judgement’, of a majority mandate for religious sovereignty from out the
paradoxical utilization of the democratic process in certain countries axially
predisposed, through ethnic tradition, to church-hegemonic/state-subordinate criteria,
to an otherworldly end, an end in which the holiness of free soul will be hegemonically triumphant, like the legendary English saint,
over the neutralized dragon of bound will, epitomized by the pseudo-metachemical, whose gender, being pseudo-female, will be unclearly at cross-purposes with itself under male
(metaphysical) hegemonic pressure and consequently in no position to threaten
or undermine the blessed sanctity (in perfect gender sync) of the metaphysical
Elect of Soul, the super- if not supra-human participants, through religious
sovereignty, in Heaven … the Holy Soul.
False gods may have the power and glory of free
will and free spirit, but any god or, rather, godliness that is true (and not
merely knowledgeable, or half-true) will testify to the contentment of free
soul from a position akin, in superconsciousness, to
what could be called super-form, the ‘once-bovaryized’
form of godly truth whose sole raison d’être is to bear witness to heavenly joy, to the joyous beatitude of free
soul, which is the fulcrum and therefore principal characteristic of
metaphysics.
It is ironic that at a time when the Catholic
Church in Ireland is rightly under intense critical scrutiny for its toleration
and ‘cover up’ of sexually deviant priests, the Irish state should have brought
in new anti-blasphemy laws, as though to shore up the tottering edifice of the
Church and, by implication, their own power base in relation to it. Is this not highly paradoxical and even
hypocritical? Especially since most
blasphemy – difficult as it is to define – would be directed not at godliness
(of which most people have little or no insight) in relation to Heaven but,
rather, at the false gods whose existence either precede or are independent of
Heaven in contexts, necessarily ‘thingful’ and
conducive to idolatry, deriving from the fundamental lie of Devil the Mother
hyped as God the Father, the ‘best of a bad job’ starting-point of civilization
which inevitably became the root, Judaically, of the
Christian extrapolation, both Marian and Christic,
whose principal ‘gods’ are ‘tarred by the same (thingful)
brush’ as indubitably accrues to the female side of life (concrete), both metachemical and chemical, and accords with the seat of
that power and glory, in free will and free spirit, that constrains even the
male side, barring puritan knowledge-centred religiosity, to a sonofabitch-like subservience before the female virtues of
free will and free spirit, beauty and pride (not strength), whether directly,
as in the Christmas-tide infantile ‘Son of God’ on his mother’s strong knees or
in her proud arms, or indirectly, as in the Easter-tide crucified ‘Son of God’
who, whilst he may have the better of his mother, prone (neutralized
dragon-like) at the foot of the so-called ‘true cross’ (of a Y-chromosomal intimation
with upstretched arms), is still fundamentally
subject to the beautiful sway of the absolute star Creator ‘Mother’ metachemically in back of bound metaphysical soma (the crucifixional paradigm) from a contrary axial standpoint
that necessarily constrains Christ, and by implication Catholic or Western
civilization, to a metaphysically-truncated role easily – and necessarily – downgraded
‘sacred heart’-wise, into pseudo-metachemistry from
fear that TM (transcendental meditation) could get out of the bag of ‘sacred
lungs’ (to which bound metaphysical soma would be entitled as far as the ‘Son
of God’ is concerned) at the expense of ‘Devil the Mother’ hyped as ‘God the Father’
metachemically in back, as noted, of everything, like
an absolute star (equal number of points) whose predominant somatic freedom
continues to conventionally rule the religious roost at the expense of Truth
and metaphysical liberation, through free soul, from the stranglehold of free
will, a stranglehold that even Schopenhauer would have repudiated – and did –
in the interests of an oriental-oriented freedom from conventional religion and
its myriad falsehoods.
Bah! enough said on
that score, as on the Irish republic’s tendency to back priests at the expense
of the people and their liberation from false religion. This republic is also, as recent
circumstances have shown, a disgrace, which must be democratically opposed and
defeated by Social Theocracy at the election booths in due course, if Truth is
to metaphysically prevail and the shame of Irish republicanism be transcended
in and by the most credible approximation, through Social Transcendentalism, to
‘Kingdom Come’.
We are often our own worst enemies, having to
struggle against self-doubt and inner frailties that remain determined to trip
us up and put obstacles in the way of our intellectual or moral progress. To some extent, this is due to personal and
social circumstances, to environment, health, age, gender, the people we live
with, the kind of work we do, our character and temperament, etc. But there is also a sense in which we are the
sum of a variety of ancestral parts, both male and female, of this ethnicity
and that ethnicity, even of mixed race or dissimilar class, and these ancestral
factors jostle within us and somehow have an effect on how we think, whether
positively or negatively, for good or bad.
Other than in simple human terms, few if any of us are truly composite
entities but, rather, an amalgamation of disparate inheritances, both living
and dead, that drive us this way and that according to what we are doing and
how that fits in with the ancestral experience.
Like it or not, you are the sum of your various ancestors, and they have
a say, whether or not you pay much attention, in the direction of your life.
My Bangladeshi landlord is a total and utter c**t,
who, with his clipped moustache, looks and often acts like Josef Stalin.
I would be the last person to do a concert (à la George Harrison) or indeed anything else for
I live with the shame of having a Bangladeshi
landlord, which has become more pronounced since he had the gall to move in
with his tenants and … glory in his power at close-range, so to speak.
One also has to endure his teenage son, his
ex-wife (whom he had the son by), and her son (much younger) by a different
husband, a Bangladeshi half-wit who returned to Bangladesh (Aziz
kicked him out) and does not have to put up with – as the rest of us do – the
noisy antics and arbitrary outbursts of his son, as by rights he damn-well
should. Really, that gets me to the
core! To have to put up with somebody
else’s frigging kid! But, then, so too
does Aziz, in the interests of currying favour – the
metaphor is apt! – with his ex-wife and taking
advantage of her domicile here, of her dependence, these days, on his
protection.
Sometimes, the way he carries on with that kid,
you’d think it was his own. But its most
hysterical outbursts seem to occur when it is alone with him rather than in the
care of its mother, as though it sensed that Aziz,
for all his apparent solicitude, was not his real father … whatever pretensions
to the contrary he might like to uphold.
That man has taken advantage of his tenants in
ways that beggar belief, not least in relation to the underhand way in which he
has gradually moved both himself and his extended family in here, making one
feel increasingly peripheral and … helpless.
Bad enough that he should always be bringing workmen and odd-jobbers in
to replace this and that, or repair something that he can’t be bothered to do
or simply hasn’t the skills to do, or simply to make changes for the sake of
change, or to find that he is obliged to make changes because so indebted to
the council and others from having taken out so many loans for his ambitions
expansion and renovation plans, but this … it gives me the creeps just to think
about it!
Frankly there is little or nothing about these
particular Bangladeshis, including his ‘ex’, that I
like. She hogs the kitchen too such an
extent that one feels an interloper, especially when her son by the second
husband is also in there (as he usually is) making a jabbering row and
generally throwing his tiny weight around.
Besides, she makes such a row with everything her grossly large hands
come into contact with that it would be a most unpleasant experience to stay
there even if the smell of their food didn’t disgust or nauseate one, and
effectively drive one out with the minimum of pre-packed food and drink to
shamefully take back upstairs to one’s solitary room. But one doesn’t have to be in the kitchen for
that to happen, as I have often found out to my cost when lying in bed of a
morning or sitting in my room of an afternoon or evening, when the snot-like
stench of it can be so overpowering as to make one gasp for breath and rush to
the air freshener for nasal relief.
However, the richness and copious extravagance
of their food – which, incidentally, they can cook and eat at virtually any
time of the day - is not the worst of my problems … for not only are they
highly excitable and vocally high-pitched, but also inveterately disorganized
and slovenly in their dress, not to mention indecisive in what or how long they
take to do anything, like going out or visiting the toilet and bathroom (which,
like the kitchen, I also have to share with them … and others, including old Mr
Hawkins). And, of course, before I
forget, there is the barbarous door slamming that is a constant feature of life
in this small tenemented lodging-house, both in
relation to the heavy doors with closures and those without, including the
front door, which the bitch with the overly large hands slams with a violence,
whenever she exists the building with or without her kid, that simply beggars
belief and does one’s mental equilibrium no favours whatsoever, least of all
when one is busily engrossed in some intellectual problem or literary
commitment! In that respect, this house,
even without constant comings and goings by all and sundry, is easily the worst
offender in the entire street if not, I sometimes think, the entire borough!
I really should move out of here and find
somewhere quieter and more self-contained, without the shrieks of that kid
invading my peace of mind and, along with all the other upsets and outrages,
throwing me off balance, but it is easier said than done, especially when you
dislike north London and, by extension, London anyway, and have nowhere
particular in mind, least of all in the immediate neighbourhood or borough.
I shall just have to put up with that cynical
bitch and her zany kid a while longer, not to mention Aziz
and his teenage brat – largely, I suspect, for the sake of my work, which, even
without the Internet (which the landlord supplies), has always kept me virtually
chained to my desk every day.
There is another reason, and that is that I
kind of fancy Hawkins’s half-chink teenage daughter,
though I have only seen her a few times, and then infrequently. But she has youth on her side and an artful
dress sense, and I have always had a thing for girls with pudding-basin
hairstyles which can be modified, as with this one, towards a
fringe-and-ponytail when she wants to abandon a flouncy
skirt for a straight or tight minidress. I could fall for that, and seeing as I don’t
have any other romantic inclinations or possibilities ….
But Hawkins himself still remains a thorn in my
side, and as long as he is here she is unlikely to visit him as often as she
used to do in her pre-pubic past, for reasons best known to herself. She did show up in a summery dress one Sunday
afternoon a year or two ago when he was in hospital for a few days, in
consequence of what I understood to be a tobacco-fuelled heart attack, ostensibly
to get some of his things from his room, but she kind of caught me off guard as
I was on my way out and I didn’t think to capitalize on it or take advantage of
her presence … much as I have since regretted it, in spite of the delicacy of
the situation and my concern for her apparent motives regarding her father at
the time …. But deep down I have always thought that I could avenge myself on that
bastard Hawkins through his half-caste daughter … like taking compensation for
all the inconvenience his uncouth presence constitutes. Maybe one day I shall, but that remains to be
seen, since she is rarely here, as noted, these days anyway.
I sometimes fantasize about burning the axial
candle, so to speak, at both ends, juggling both a nigger and a chink to my
satisfaction, with the benefit of a flounced skirt one day and a straight dress
the next, pudding basin and ponytail (with fringe), low-heeled open-toed shoes
and high-heeled enclosed-toe shoes, etc., etc., but it remains no more than an
occasional fantasy which circumstances are unlikely to encourage for real, even
if I could get my philosopher-king-inspired messianic pretensions out of the
way for a day or two, which seems unlikely.
Besides, I equate sex with nature, even natural metaphysics, and the
advocate of cyborgistic metaphysics isn’t even
humanist, never mind naturalist, enough to be able to get down to a
metaphysical regression of that degree or kind.
Bah! How often have I thought
that?!
In
In
In
In my ideal society, by contrast, freedom from
economics through politics = freedom for religious (transcendentalist) growth.
Thus a series of dialectical
alternatives for growth based on the Nietzschean not
‘free from’ but ‘free for’ dictum which underlines contemporary civilization. My own
position is the last in the dialectical chain of events which should culminate,
with religious sovereignty, in ‘Kingdom Come’.
Now, frankly, I do not see why Eire, which has
disastrously experimented, through Fianna Fàil-led governments, with the false ideal of economic
growth, should not be among the first countries to adopt it, given the need to
restore confidence and dignity to politics by rejecting this economic falsehood
and using the democratic process not, as before, as a vehicle for political
growth, especially in relation to hard-line or radical republicanism, but as a
means to religious growth with Social Theocracy and its ideological concomitant
of religious sovereignty should the people vote, or be given the chance to vote
through a rejuvenated political arena, for what I have always considered to be
the ultimate sovereignty and, in a special sense, sovereignty to end all
(lesser) sovereignties, including the political which, alas, appertains to the
‘world’ as the republican concomitant of chemistry over the pseudo-economics
(socialism) of pseudo-physics in what would be a catholic-derived tradition.
Feminism, or female liberation, allowed for the
encouragement of the female virtues of Beauty and, to speak in simplistic
parallel terms, Strength at the contemporary expense of what the opponents of
‘moral relativism’ would call Knowledge and, to a limited extent, Truth, those
male virtues characteristic not of will and spirit but of ego and soul.
And yet the distinction between Knowledge and
‘Truth’ , physics and ‘metaphysics’, was itself morally relative, along
Protestant (puritan) and Roman Catholic lines, as is the contemporary one, to
continue speaking in simplistically parallel terms, between Beauty and
Strength, metachemistry and chemistry, and this
distinction is more pronounced than ever in the dichotomy between say, cinema
and television, or films and episodes of a drama series, which are more
inclined to some exemplification of strength (not least in apprehending
criminals) than to the exemplification, cheerleader-like, of beauty through
action-packed free will.
But wherever there are hegemonic virtues,
whether female or male, noumenal or phenomenal,
unequivocal or equivocal, there will be subordinate pseudo-virtues appertaining
to the ‘upended’ gender in each case, be they (the pseudo-virtues)
pseudo-beauty under ‘truth’ (Truth per se having been alien to Western
civilization), pseudo-truth under beauty, pseudo-strength under knowledge, or
pseudo-knowledge under strength. All
such pseudo-virtues also factor-in to the overall elemental or axial equation,
and are if not equally then unequally representative of ‘moral relativism’.
But if there is to be an end to the
contemporary female-inspired varieties of ‘moral relativism’, it can only come
from Truth per se and thus true
religion, which I have identified with Social Theocracy and its ideological
bias towards religion (metaphysics) at the expense of pseudo-science (pseudo-metachemistry) in the overall structure of noumenal centrism, the ‘true’ as opposed to ‘false’
(phenomenal) centrism that will serve both God/Heaven and the
pseudo-Devil/pseudo-Hell of the Centre proper from an administrative aside
comprised of the Social Theocratic leadership.
The thing about Truth is that it understands
metaphysics for the transvaluated element it is, in
which Soul is the principal attribute or elemental fulcrum, and therefore from
which there can only stem a ‘bovaryized’ form of ego
equivalent to super-ego or superconsciousness as
merely godly proof of the heavenly kernel, or essence, of the Soul in joy.
Therefore no Heaven, no God, or godliness, since
the notion of God independent of and anterior to Heaven is completely false and
a consequence, I believe, of the Devil-the-Mother-hyped-as-God-the-Father Lie
that metachemically antedates Western civilization as
an extrapolation from a Middle Eastern anchor, so to speak, which exemplifies
the same somatic, or bodily, character traits in its idols as would
characterize the somatic predominance of the absolute star, call it superstar,
and ensure that, just as beauty precedes love in metachemical
free soma, so the false notion of truth preceding joy in metaphysics, or God
preceding Heaven, derives from this basic fact of the precedence of Hell by the
Devil, of a loving Hell-the-Clear-Spirit by a beautiful Devil-the-Mother whose
‘increase and multiply’ ethos continues to scientifically dominate religion and
to ensure that it remains false to itself and in no position to exemplify Truth
as an expressive or, rather, impressive consequence of Joy.
Religion, my friends, is about Heaven, and
until we can establish ‘Kingdom Come’ through the exploitation of political
freedom where that is possible, as hopefully in Eire and other such countries
where the Church has long been behind political liberation (from imperial
interference), the contemporary forms of ‘moral relativism’, coupled to what
could be called their traditional, or ‘bourgeois’, forms will continue to
prevail, world without female-dominated end.
Therefore I say unto you, let us take up the
challenge of religious liberty and struggle for that very godly reflection of
Heaven which is the rightful destiny of life in Eternity, and remember that
there can be no heavenly salvation of males or, rather, of pseudo-physical
pseudo-males to metaphysics where the chemical female has not been consigned,
in counter-damnation, to the pseudo-Infinity of a pseudo-hellish pseudo-devilry
in pseudo-metachemistry, pseudo-angelically
neutralized, for ever more, under the saintly heel, so to speak, of the Elect
of Soul. This is what noumenal centrism will serve, if given the opportunity to
in and as ‘Kingdom Come’.
London
2009–10 (Revised 2012)
