Op.
132
MY
SOUL
ON ICE
A
Philosophical
Autobiography
by John O’Loughlin
Dedicated
to
the
memory of Charles Baudelaire,
French
Poet
and
Philosopher
Copyright
©
2011
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 2011)
