I feel like a jerk, that everyone hates, and rightly so -

But please hear this, from a friend, writing as if she were me - it made ma cry...

And I never meant to hurt anybody.


When you get to the point like a dog, when you have been beatin down so many times by a hand you love so much, one tends to snap at little children and innocents that only want to be your friend or in your company.
I am not not ready to be euthanized just yet, I can be taught and your patience is appreciated.
I am a loyal, trustworthy soul excuse me for peeing on the rug of friendship. Just so you know my tail is between my legs for the comments I have made. If I could I would lick your face in truce. (metaphorically speaking)

Here's the lamest thing I've ever heard

And, keep in mind, I've heard it more than once (oh, "poor Seebo"...)

Are you ready?

Here it is:

I've already got too many friends...

Well, alrighty then, Captain F*ck You. And, by the way, Cap'n, here's how that sounds to us (and by us I mean the too little too late freaktards to be your friends): Yeah, well, I know your neat and cool, I just don't have time to appreciate that right now. Yeah, got a lot of stuff going on. Sure I bitch about my life and how I'm miserable and lonley and misunderstood I am (but, clearly, got that covcred), and maybe introducing new people in to that might help, but no... Sorry - you in particular just don't make the cut. Sit you fat ass down on the "non-pickable" line for gym and wallow in your misery. But hey - keep that chin up!

Remind me all to tell you how I woke up in the hospital the other day.

God I suck.

And he better not even get mad at me, that's just how it feels. Too many freinds, my big fat ass.

PS
Hospital food sucks

The worst really was the best...

I have a crush, and my crush shot me down. And it was probably the single most greatest thing that has happened to me in a while.

Why?

Because he was honest. And respectful. Gave me props, and stoped me from further making an ass of myself. Now I have faith in men again. Its hard to explain, but he was HONEST. I didn't know men could do that. And he made me feel truly aiight. Granted, I'll still resort to hating myself, but he has proven that good men do exist, and I am worthy.

Thank you, anon, for that. I knew you were an on purpose for a reason.

Weird, being "shot down" and thanking the guy. But it's true. Not all men are asses after all.

Though, there is this to depress me (and I will never admit to what I have done)


Sometimes/always

When you’ve sank as low as you can go,
When – even in your most self deprecating moments,
It's pure;
Even when you weep for your mother –
Who would weep if she knew what you had done –

(Thank god she doesn’t. Honestly.)

It’s at that moment
For a split second,
You own yourself
And it’s not as bad as you thought.

But moments end,
And once again
You find
The missing –

Not the missing piece –

Good lord, no –

Just the missing,
And you have to start
All
Over
Again.

Yeah...

Very, very, very - ahem - comfortable... The words "nice" and "awesome" cp,e tp mind. Then again, so does The Blue Oyster Cult...

Yeah.

Don't... Just don't...

Please, someone, lay it out for me. How I'm just unloveable, and gross, and a wank, etc. You don't have to be mean, just be honest. Because in the end I'm a really good person, whom everyone loves, and, well, whatever... Does it even matter any more?

I will not play the politk game, and I’m sure as hell not gonna play the “who is suffering more" game – cause its moo. Like a cow’s opinion: it doesn’t matter.

Finally do the rough winds that shake the darling buds of May (Shakespeare) abate, and for a change I feel cool. And by cool I mean cold. Because I have this disjointed, pervasive voice in my head that feeds me a constant stream of such hits as (and this is verbatim the voice in my melon):

You suck
I wish I were dead
I could just hang…
I’m gross
I wanna go home [where that is – I dunno]
Fuck everything
I’m such a loser

I think you get the idea.

And I’m sure I haven’t even held the attention of that one person whose attention I want to hold. For yous out there who have a daughter – you are fucked. Accept that. Please don’t create in her the inner dialogue that was created in me. Daughters are great – we love unconditionally because you’re this man called “Dad” – and that is magical to us. Don’t take that away from a little girl. Assuming we’re all adults, I know what ruined my life effectively: My Dad, telling me I was a nuisance, a burden, let alone removing himself (proactively) from life. Don’t sign the death warrant for your daughters. What difference does it make if you live another hour or 50 more years? Infinity is a long, long time…

And, as an aside: making love without emotion? It’s easy. Not as good, but works in a pinch. And what's there to be afriad of - directed versus misdirected hurt? Whatever -

I’m crazy. I hate my life. But I’m also a daughter of a starving artist who decided that I was just one more stressor (and therefore an inconvience) that ruined his life. And that has effectively ruined mine.

Anon person, I am so fascinated by you; yet scared at the same time. I don’t do “accidents” in my life, only on purposes… Why won't you let me in. I know why, its because I'm just gross and so not worthy of anything... God, did I mention that I hate my life?

And I really hope my piece is being biked over, with regards to delivery purposes. Maybe because I'm lonely. Maybe because I don't want to be thought of poorly, maybe because I want to see the artists face again (and not just the eyes - I'd recognize the eyes... Whatever Seebo, fuckin' loser). I promise, I will redeem myself as the Seebo everyone knows and raves about…

Now I’m going to go beat myself up about this post until tomorrow when I have to delete it cause I’m too much of a loser for him to even want to be my friend, and go to this stooped wedding… Alone.

Whatever.

Morrissey (and - ergo - The Smiths... for lack of a better)

An unspeakable friend
Gets the message
On an ill wind -
All your friends and your foes
Would rather die
Than have to touch you

Drank to much
And I said too much
and there’s nowhere to go but down…

…Truly disappointed
Truly,
Truly,
Truly…

Don’t talk to me now
About people who are nice
Cause I have spent my whole life
In ruins
Because of people who are nice

Oh, this world may lack style you know –
Each bud must blossom and grow…

This is the last song I will ever sing –
Oh I’ve changed my mind again –
Hoodnight and thank you.

Disappointed, Morrissey “Bona Drag”

Sorry - got a little deep there (whoops!)

Please note at the end of this message a disclaimer:

So. The catepillar has emerged from it's cocoon. As a shark. With a gun for it's mouth...
- C. Montegomery Burns

If you are ever going through hell
Keep going

AND

There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man
-Winston Churchill

So, how's the revolution coming?
Its comin' along...
-Cap'n and Seebo




Disclaimer: those who look upon this do not judge, for the last of what we think we'll be - for surely is that of which we are (and that's all Seebo!)

And moreso:

"All great things bring about their own distruction through an act of self overcoming: thus the law of life will have it, the law of the necessity of "self-overcoming" in the nature of life - the law-giver himself eventually receives the call: "patere legem, quam ipse tulisti." In this way Christianity as a dogma was destroyed by its own morality; in the same way Christianity as morality must now perish, too: we stand on the threshold of this event. After Christian truthfullness has drawn one inference after another, it must end by drawing its most striking inference, its inference against itself; this will happen, however, when it poses the question "what is the meaning of all will to truth?"

On the Genealogy of Morals, F. Nietzsche

Even in the garden...

ABRAXAS
BRAXAS
RAXAS
AXAS
XAS
AS
S
[Oh god - your xian eyes!!!!]


And why? Heretofore why:

Carl Jung (The Seven Sermons to the Dead)
"Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible."

“Der Vogel kämpft sich aus dem Ei. Das Ei ist die Welt. Wer geboren werden will, muss eine Welt zerstören. Der Vogel fliegt zu Gott. Der Gott heisst Abraxas.” (The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born first must destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas) - Hermann Hesse, Demian


Even in the garden, I exsist -



(And - as an aside - I will remember...)

And not me only

For the record, Help is the best movie, of all time, ever [I can say no more...}

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeV5CaUfX6A

And now for something completely different

In the midst of all the politik, crap, and boring pointless never-ending banter/pseudo-debates going on between the holier than thou right and the victim saint martyr left, this is a fundamental arguement that is not, indeed, being addressed - and, ironically is the heart of the matter as I see it. I've been meaning to post something on the teleolical suspension of the ethical for a long while (mind teaming with thoughts), and what exactly that means. Read on, and please comment if you wish...


"This is what is terrible. Anyone who doesn't see this can always be quite certain he is no knight of faith; but anyone who does see it will not deny that the step of even the most tried tragic hero goes like a dance compared with the slow and creeping progress of the knight of faith. And having seen it and realized he does not have the courage to understand it., he must at least have some ideaof the wonderful glory achieved by that knight in becoming God's confidant, the Lord's friend, and - to speak really humanly - in adressing God in heaven as 'Thou', while even the tragic hero only adresses him in the third person." (Fear and Trembling, Soren Kierkegaard)



Kierkegaard: Problema I – Is there a teleological suspension of the ethical?


Soren Kierkegaard, in Fear and Trembling, uses the biblical story of Abraham and Issac to challenge common 19th century positivist notions of science and progress with regards to faith and religion. Kierkegaard believed that Christianity was more complex then 19th century thinkers such as Ibsen and Mill perceived. People are justified through faith, not acts, and therefore to put the “ethical” forward as the driving moral force behind society one forgets the importance of the individual over the universal. Much like Mill as far as placing emphasis on the individual over society, Kierkegaard explores the concepts of faith and telos through 3 problemas, mirroring the 3 postulates of Hegelian ethical thought to illustrate inconsistencies using the acts of pure faith put forward by Abraham – acts of faith which require him to turn his back on the “ethical” in order to respond to the absolute (God). Kierkegaard took issue with the Hegelian notion of transcending faith by systemic philosophy and attempts to define what Christianity is and is not. Problema one focuses on the teleological suspension of the ethical, placing the focus on the individual, not the universal, and challenging the concept of an unbending, universal “ethical” moral standard.


Asked by God to sacrifice his only son Issac, Abraham - by complying with this request - through his faith (based in the absurd), “overstepped the ethical altogether, and had a higher telos outside it, in relation to which he suspended it” (pg 88). Abraham had faith. Faith as seen by Kierkegaard requires belief in all things absurd, for all human calculation has long since been suspended (pg 65). When God asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son, it is with quiet resignation that Abraham immediately moves forward to perform the task which is required of him. If he had faltered, one could not say he truly had faith. For 19th century thinkers to put the ethical over the individual, and in the place of the absolute, maintain that to act outside this “unfaltering set of moral law” is to sin, thereby missing the point in this biblical tale where the temptation to sin (the temptation of Abraham to maintain the ethical by following the course of it being a father’s duty to love his son) comes from the ethical itself. The ethical has a place, but that place is inferior to that of the individual. The ethical is not the absolute. God is the absolute, and therefore the ethical should reflect “precisely the expression of God’s will” (pg 88). Man cannot merely obey the universal when the absolute supercedes it.


Kierkegaard in this problema compares the tragic hero, Agamemnon, with Abraham. The difference is the tragic hero is operating within the ethical – he bases his decision not only on his personal duties, but upon his duties to the whole. Agamemnon’s duty is first to his country, then to his daughter. The ethical in this case is the telos, therefore there can be no teleological suspension of the ethical. Abraham, on the other hand, is asked privately to sacrifice his son, and with no greater social outcome or benefit to the whole. God simply has asked him to commit a seemingly unethical act. For Abraham, the law comes from the absolute, and the ethical should be a perfect reflection of God’s will, enabling the giver of the law (the absolute, God) to suspend the same. Abraham has moved outside of the ethical, unlike the tragic hero Agamemnon, through his faith.


It is Kierkegaard’s concept of faith which allows for the teleological suspension of the ethical, otherwise Abraham would be no more than a murderer: “When a person sets out on the tragic hero’s admittedly hard path there are many who could lend him advice; but he who walks the narrow path of faith no one can advise, no one understand. Faith is a marvel…” (pg 95). Individuals can’t be forced into a rigid standard of conventional morality, imposing abstract rules on a concrete individual. The ethical speaks to the totality; the absolute speaks to the individual.

Document9 – Microsoft Word (Posting from work, again, clearly I am some sort of badass)

Oh thank you Microsoft Word, for being my way around abominable spelling…

Please note that the following post is laced with profanity and bitterness. And if that offends you, then, clearly, you are a wank who is reading the wrong blog.



Fuck you paying bills. Honestly. It’s my money, I earned it, and whist I do appreciate the good and or service I have been provided, I have much more entertaining things to do with said capital. And none of them involve sending it away to some nameless good and or service provider.

Fuck you dishes. I hate dishes. No, that’s not quite accurate. I hate washing large amassed stacks of dishes (dishes themselves are quite lovely, a very appropriate place to set food upon for consumption). I swear to god, if and when I get around to doing you I am only using one plate, one fork, one knife and one spoon for the rest of my life. I still need to use three glasses, as I have varied and many beverage needs, but at least its not using every fucking glass I have and stacking them up along side the sink until none are left (and I have a lot, I can’t stress this enough, of glasses). I’ve been drinking ice water out of fucking brandy snifters for the last week, for the love…

Fuck you vacuuming. I love my creatures, and their respective soft coats of petable fur, but I do not like vacuuming up these damnable tumbleweeds of dander-ridden hair that seem to be everywhere, including being spotted most recently in my bed. THAT’s nice to wake up to. Seriously.

Fuck you getting out of bed, for that matter. Unless it’s to get rid of the aforementioned hair-friends. I love bed. It’s quite a comfortable place to recline, I find. And here in my box I am missing it quite desperately.

Fuck you Neutrogena conditioner, which I am forced to use as I am out of regular conditioner. Thank god I take toiletries from hotels, but come on. Neutrogena is crap, and it makes me smell like an old lady I know. And did I mention that it is crap.

Fuck you the only plans I have for tonight - a pay Friday, and a pay Friday of a long weekend no less – being to meet my parents and grandmother (heretofore further known as “Nanny”) at Perkins for dinner. Fucking Perkins. Sigh, I guess it beats Schwann’s pizza.

Come to mention it, fuck you Schwann’s pizza. It is not good, and is taking up valuable freezer space which could be utilized to store, oh, I don’t know, bodies or ice sculptures, or dishes… Anything would be better.

And finally, fuck you laundry. For you truly are the bane of my existence. It never ends with this laundry business. Unless you do it naked and stay that way, it’s in a perpetual state of accumulation. If only they could harness that energy and transform it into some sort of fuel source…

You’d think I was in a bad mood. Not so much. Just bored, and tired, and waiting to get my terribly exciting weekend on…
S