Whaddya know, it’s a tektratrideskaphobic.

Nietzsche.

Freud.

Lovecraft.

Poe.

Palahniuk.

Kant.

Shakespeare.

Paglia.

Rimbaud.

Wachowski.

Morrison.

Moore.

Barker.

Dai.

Bakunin.

Darwin.

Chomsky.

Piaget.

Abrams.

Maslow.

Marx.

Jung.

Cantor.

Turgenev.

King Solomon.

Duchamp.

Warhol.

De Sade.

Buddha.

Azzarello.

The Whole System Is Shit.

Bring the 1800’s back so we can all rediscover everything.

Maybe everything would make sense if we had schizophrenia.

There is no real world.

There is Nothing.

Nothing is Something.

Everything is a fucking gyp of dissolution.

Contradictive Meaninglessness.

What the FUCK is wrong; WHAT THE fuck IS RIGHT?

I don’t want to LIVE; I don’t want to DIE.

I want nothing.

Nothing is Something.

I don’t want Nothing.

I don’t want Something.

I don’t want Anything.

Anything could be Something.

Contradictions!

Lies!

Truth.

There is no Truth.

Truth is a Lie.

There is no Lie.

There is Nothing.

Nothing is Something.

Something is Nothing.

Everything is Something.

Nothing is Everything.

Everything is Nothing.

Nothing.

Something.

Everything.

Nothing.

Empty.

Full.

Dark Matter.

Everything has Matter.

Nothing has NO Matter.

Then surely, Nothing is Something DIFFERENT.

It’s STILL SOMETHING.

Subterfuge of Subterfuge.

What the FUCK is going on?

What the FUCK is NOT going on?

But Surety is Absolute.

There are NO Absolutes.

No Absolutions.

The Entirety of EVERYTHING is like a dog chasing its tail.

There is no Purpose.

There is no Meaning.

There are only Theorems.

Explanation is a fallacy; a vagary.

Which comes to the BIG ‘W’…

Why?

As much as I explain, I still shrug and walk away, hoping this mess would sort itself out.

But I have sorted it out.

Chaos in a system.

That Ying and Yang Bullshit.

Balance and Disorder.

The Chinese had a point, they just fucked it up.

The Russians had a point, they got fucked.

Hitler tried to prove a point, just forgot what it was along the way.

The Greeks made many points, they were forgotten along the way.

The Romans just had contradictive points.

Egyptians, however, got caught in that mess.

Aurelius had many attempts at making a point, ah well…

Aesop put points into creativity, people called them morals, joke.

Persepolis was a great comic, just fucking underrated.

GG Allin didn’t make any attempt to make a point, he was a point.

The Japanese are just mean. But they don’t mean it.

Philosophy is so nonsensical, that’s why I love it.

I don’t know Good nor Evil.

They are Nothing.

Here we go again…

See you soon weirdos. You weird, empty people with false ideologies to make life seem so “blissful”. Who bear moralities and values. Who conspire against the universe with babbles of power and wealth and justice. Stick to drinking your overpriced champagne, popping its cork like how you popped your brains. Somehow, it’s hard to and not to be sick at you. You’re human, I’m human, what’s the difference? Ah well, I think you’re weird.

You.

Yes, you, reading right now…

Turn around.

Now that you’ve turned back, I’m guessing you did turn around because you have nothing better to do.

You see, that’s how meaningless life is.

I personally feel…

The progression of science has always been the question of ethics, morality, religion, belief; all the condescending vagaries we have implemented for an empty purpose with no meaning whatsoever.

When the first transplant in the 1950’s was successfully performed, many condescending fucks across the globe, demised and cursed at this considerably celebrated milestone of medical science, instead of the triumph it was expected to harvest, it was said as a despicable act of blasphemy.

Now, to me, that is a fucking load of crap.

All these lifeless religious bastards, all so wise and revered, with their moustaches and round rimmed specs played bitch to science.

Now that is betrayal of the human intellect.

Because if a person cannot accept science as a study of theories and proof, and religion as a cultural theory and controlled moral teachings (mind you, this is my subjective opinion, so any of you out there who think/feel otherwise and/or pissed, and you want to do all you want to preach about how your personal concept of universal preferable behavior/perception, spare it, if you’re ever trying to impart, or enforce, or even just share anything at all with someone, just understand that people have opinions too, at least, that’s what I think), then that person is one selfish, ignorant cunt who deserves to have rusty nails embedded in his/her body then sewed into the stomach of a cow along with a dog, a snake and a monkey, then thrown into deep water, oh the roman beauty.

But hell, I was trying to research more studies on nanotechnology when I came across a list of ethics to be practiced when dealing with nanotech.

I mean, science should never be about ethics considering it is a study of the natural world and its progressing, modern counterparts, is it not?

And since almost every thing in the universe is considered part of the natural world, then ethics should not be in question or practiced.

We didn’t advance in medical science if we’d thought that cutting up a body and its muscles and tissues to remove cancer and tumours, or whichever anomaly we might have if we thought it was mean to a person if we were to cut them up a little.

We wouldn’t have understood the anatomy of anything if we didn’t cut them up either.

In fact, all along, I’d think science is a game of risks we have to be willing to take.

Where would we have been if not for anesthetics, if not for finding what would kill that viscous matter from eating at our lacerations.

Ethics are a deep, deep incision that slows science from moving along.

Ah well, if that’s how it’s going to be, might as well not care about it.

nonchalance

“Why, Mr. Anderson? Why do you do it? Why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something? For more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is? Do you even know? Is it freedom? Or truth? Perhaps peace? Yes? No? Could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now. You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson? Why? Why do you persist?”

“I wish you could see yourself Mr. Anderson... Blind messiah. You're a symbol for your kind, Mr. Anderson.”

“Throughout human history, we have been dependent on machines to survive. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.”\

“The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you're inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system, that they will fight to protect it.”

“I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you're not actually mammals. Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus. Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You're a plague and we are the cure. “

I guess we have degenerated into a generation of quotes and empty collective ideologies which we force ourselves to die for.

So tell me, or your subconscious selves what you actually have to die for, which is the quantum equation to nothingness itself so well, let’s all die for nothing.

Now that’s ripping off and having a trilogy.

She’s a bitch, but she’s my bitch.

You know, you’re probably the only person I can stand talking about one thing a quarter-way through, shuffle between other quarterly discussed subjects and resume talking about them in the same sober tones of Darwin and Wallace.

And all the multivariate topics that spew off, from Macbeth to rudimentary theorems in religion, to bitching about people (oops), they’re all fun.

Cause you know, I love it when you alternate your accent, and jostle through your moods, I love it when you’re being bitchy to me because it irritates me so much I just laugh it off, I hate it when I have to be sweet to you because it’s no fun seeing you mad and having your eyes widen, I love it when you talk me down cause it’s so kickass to have a fierce girlfriend, and you, whenever you squeal your funny nonsense, I love the way you react to your idiocy.

Also love it when we spar, cause I get to chicken out!

And can you not dance in front of me just to tell me I look like Frankenstein trying a small sized condom out.

Now onto the serious stuff.

It’s not a long post, but to summerise it up:

I love your daily complaints, your random ranting, scrabble with you, and you, there’s more, but I’d like to show you than tell you on a anonymous blog.

Stumble

I run amok, panicked, eyes shooting here and there trying my best to focus, but it all fails. I’m left with nothing but desperation, like an aimless gust of wind, collecting everything but keeping nothing.

And I scream: where is god?!

Is he a subjective-relative algorithm that can be compressed into a finite explanation such as the Christian Trinity, the anatomy of atoms. The will of god is then also the reason of the mysterious, unexplainable and incomprehensible; are these then considered divine and credited to this unknown celestial we, since our directive primitive civilisations, come to explain as god.

A religious man can tell you a million and one things and relate them to god, what he can also tell you is the supportive sequential events and objects involved and its depictive meanings which is entirely based on his religious point of view, but what he cannot tell you is why, he cannot explain. He can go on and on on how his god died for him on the cross, but what he does not admit is the fact that he had said his god has died. Then comes the reason of “he rose again on the third day of his death”, I’d go: “sure, I’d give you that, but what about the other 3 days he was dead?”

Risen, but never to be seen again for many distant centuries.

So about the 3 days, what was the world then; if this god had created and arranged everything then he’d be the main source of power, and if he died, then what became of the rest of the expanding, infinite, observable universe we long to venture and much as we have for the sea.

But I don’t care about god. Don’t care about the afterlife, don’t care about death much, not so much about life too, though it is very nice to create a majestic monument out of the most very simple things.

If you broke everything down and carefully put it under the microscope, then we’d just see a bunch of atoms or fathoms that trace back to its historical meaninglessness.

So there isn’t much to live for, really. So I’ll keep learning until I really sort my mess out.

Plagarising Good Will Hunting

Will: [about Skylar] Don't worry about me, I know what I'm doin'. Yeah, but this girl is like, you know, beautiful. She's smart. She's funny. She's different from most of the girls I've been with.

 

Sean: So, call her up, Romeo.

 

Will: Why? So I can realize she's not that smart, that she's fuckin' boring? Y'know? I mean...this girl is like fuckin' perfect right now, I don't wanna ruin that.

 

Sean: Maybe you're perfect right now. Maybe you don't wanna ruin that. I think that's a super philosophy, Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody...My wife used to fart when she was nervous. She had all sorts of wonderful idiosyncrasies. You know what? She used to fart in her sleep. [they laugh] Sorry I shared that with you. One night it was so loud it woke the dog up. She woke up and gone like "oh was that you?" I'd say yeah...I didn't have the heart to tell her...Oh God...

 

Will: She woke herself up?

 

Sean: Yes!.... Oh Christ....aahhh, but, Will, she's been dead two years and that's the shit I remember. Wonderful stuff, you know, little things like that. Ah, but, those are the things I miss the most. The little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. That's what made her my wife. Oh and she had the goods on me, too, she knew all my little peccadillos. People call these things imperfections, but they're not, aw that's the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds. You're not perfect, sport. And let me save you the suspense. This girl you met, she isn't perfect either. But the question is: whether or not you're perfect for each other. That's the whole deal. That's what intimacy is all about. Now you can know everything in the world, sport, but the only way you're findin' out that one is by givin' it a shot. You certainly won't learn from an old fucker like me. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell a pissant like you.

 

Will: Why not? You told me every other fuckin' thing. Jesus Christ. Fuckin' talk more than any shrink I ever seen in my life.

 

Sean: I teach this shit, I didn't say I know how to do it.

 

Will: Yeah...You ever think about gettin' remarried?

 

Sean: My wife's dead.

 

Will: Hence the word: remarried.

 

Sean: She's dead.

 

Will: Yeah...Well, I think that's a super philosophy, Sean. I mean that way you could actually go through the rest of your life without ever really knowing anybody.

 

Sean: Time's up.

nihil.

I guess that the knowledge of death is a motivational notion of how we choose to lead our lives, and, what we make of it is an embrace towards our perceptual perfections;

To some, financial domination, or physical succession, others choose to differ in an artistic sense; some also financially, others aesthetically, and some, even anomalously.

Now, what would I want in life?

To be honest, I don’t know, it changes for me time to time, like seasons, some days I just want to have the biggest brains in the world, other days, I just want to dive into a pool of cash and spend it like there never is a tomorrow, some days I look back and hope to change my mistakes in some sort of space-time continuum but then again, I’m happy with all the mistakes I’ve made cause I guess it made me who I am, I’m not proud to admit some of it, but in general, I’m pretty pleased with the person I am today: a boy who knows too much, but does too little.

But then again, that all matters to me, so, pretty much, I’d spare you from an autobiography.

But all I really like to do is have a cigarette and read a comic, or a book by Nietzsche, listen to some metal, or grind or some Wagner, watch slasher movies or observe Dada artwork.

I’d like to smoke that cigarette and know it’s going to end, and know that a cigarette can express the entirety of life itself; that everything that used to matter burns up in smoke, and what’s left is a shriveled, dirty, smelly butt that nobody wants.

So what is there to live for?

The afterlife?

I guess I can’t really put my finger down on that one, but I have seen some bizarre shit in my life, just maybe, not enough for my faith to overcome reason.

You’ve heard the story of Christ, but have you heard about Appolonius of Tyana?

He’s a Greek Neopythagorean philosopher who led a life suggestively, contemporary to Christ, except for the crucifixion and he, pretty much was slightly older.

Yes, I do accept the fact that Jesus or Nazareth did exist, but I am skeptical about the way his life went, after all, he was documented at a time where many many things have not been explained.

Our friend Appolonius was pretty much like the other guys who all were documented to have led a life contemporary to Jesus.

So here’s where I steer off and go on to “renditions” of modern-day examples of Jesus:

Jim Jones; guy made 400 people commit suicide at the same time, that’s a miracle, using context from the bible in his early “regiment”

Adolf Hitler: also a Roman Catholic who spread so much fascism and hate that still burns today that was influential from the bible; read Mein Kampf books one and two.

Charles Manson: he was a hippie, he was a Nazi, he was a mad man.

You see, these guys weren’t devil worshippers, they’re just deranged fucks who used religion and context to manipulate people into what we now accept as “evil”.

How I guess religion came into context was mainly when people wanted to control other people with the intent of power; thus sparking megalomaniacal drives for people to submit to their power, creating religion as first base mind control:

No stealing, no killing, no touching another man’s wife, no lying, no blah blah blah; all this is what we do not want another person doing to us, thus we call that evil, so good is the opposing factor.

Now we do what makes us happy, but some things we do does not make another happy, so they choose to retaliate, and I feel I want to go off track here because the subject is getting too damn fucking long fucking winded for me to continue.

So to conclude this post to cover up for the weeks I haven’t been updating: we all fucking die, get over it, do what the fuck you want, just don’t fucking bother me and I won’t fucking sew your ass to your face, motherfuckers.

And to that mental woman I’m dating right now: I would like to say that it’s fun having a facial with you (yes, people, I actually go for facials.) and please don’t make fun of me when  we’re having our mani-pedi (yes, manicures and pedicures too, you know what’s worse, having your psychotic girlfriend bring home your baby pillow, because she misses you and you have nothing to miss her by, I know that sounds awfully sickening, but I am a sickening guy, but some girls find that attractive, take Jane for example)

And to those who always ask why I fling and change my girlfriends so much, well, my answer to that: I don’t fucking know, and stop paying attention to my life, but don’t leave me alone, I’ll miss all of you, cause I’m secretly happy when people talk about me… Jane’s going to kill me now, and so will all of you, well, I’m a walking bullseye and you just want to shoot me in the face with a .44 magnum don’t ya?

Cause the only problem in life is that everyone, well, almost, take life too fucking seriously!

Take for example:

“I lost my phone, I feel so naked”

Well good riddance, you never needed one anyway.

What I’m really trying to say is, we’ve been watching all these bloody movies and dramas, we feel as if we, as people, have to compensate for it by taking measures just to make sure we keep up with it, to the point of desensitization, and soon, there will come a point we’ll be walking around complaining to the guy who’s doing an air doggy (the act of gesturing a doggy-style sex motion to an open space) that we’re trying to breathe and he’s fucking the air up for us.

Go to hell I hate you people!

Oooooo-kaaaaaaay… come back, come back, I was just kidding, I don’t hate you, you’re going to die anyway, so what’s there to hate?