Alice.
Insanity in individuals is something rare - but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
This world needs more beautiful minds. It needs eloquent, golden tongues, it needs dancers and singers who stay true to the meaning of their profession, and not the mediocre ones that strike poses at any camera, requiring the flash-bulbs to keep them warm. Someday in my version of the future, these people will rule the world, to the ignorance of the international population. Or not, if the epiphany never comes and we remain addicted to our nerves and one-off highs. People. Some say the only way to the mind is through infecting the heart.
Reading Goebbels' Principles of Propaganda is almost analogous to peering into the calculative thought processes of a man who continually evokes grudging admiration, notwithstanding the prevailing historical context. It is a summary, yes, but a very useful one. It leaves me scared, but amazed, at the methodology, meticulous planning and executing of said plans. I am not supposed to.
I find it increasingly difficult to direct burning hatred towards someone whose 'back-story' I am familiar with, if such emotions exist in this core. This might be the reason behind the persistent refusal of some certain 'higher-up's to deliver an all-encompassing perspective. It would be akin to shifting blame (to..circumstances, the convergence of several unfortunate factors that, had they been absent, these individuals would have been blown away like dust from the history books as a mere statistic, not one underlined, highlighted), and all hell would break loose if we allow their humanness to get to us, because they must be seen as inhuman, in order for life, in its simplicity, to unwind itself from the confusing mess, and move on.
Yes, I still become weak-kneed before intellect. Is it all that bad? I do not think so.
I am to watch Black Swan tomorrow. I might not sleep tonight from excitement. I have heard too many after-movie horror stories from the experienced ones, and every one of them only heightens the anticipation. I would not have to endure low-grade internet streamed quality, as it would be too demeaning a treatment for a rare, macabre movie. I am hoping for a quiet, obedient audience at the cinema, and right there in the dark my thoughts would devour the sights, like it would, me, too.
Shred after shred, till it leaves me shaking.
---
There is something sickeningly sweet about an uxorious person (I dare to say this in a general, non-committal sense). It is flat poetry, of raw yearning or love (pick, any one), but delivered through the correct lips, it is a honeyed phrase. This too, describing a union between a male university professor and a blue-stocking. It is the marriage of minds, soul mates on levels too profound for the common man to even begin to comprehend, but they just might grasp the notion. I like to think of them bound to fill their house with bookcases forever, the hushed typing sounding late into the night, and the years sweep past like Victorian curtains until twin sounds of breathing suddenly become one.
Then the anguish increased to unendurable massivity and nightmare dimensions, making her scream and vomit. She wanted...to have her dark curls shaved to an aquamarine prickle, because they grew into her porous skull and curled inside. Jigsaw pieces of sky or wall came apart, no matter how delicately put together, but a careless jolt or a nurse's elbow can disturb so easily those lightweight fragments which became incomprehensible blancs of anonymous objects, or the blank backs of 'Scrabble' counters, which she could not turn over sunny side up, because her hands had been tied by a male nurse with Demon's black eyes.
- Vladimir Nobokov
- Friedrich Nietzsche
This world needs more beautiful minds. It needs eloquent, golden tongues, it needs dancers and singers who stay true to the meaning of their profession, and not the mediocre ones that strike poses at any camera, requiring the flash-bulbs to keep them warm. Someday in my version of the future, these people will rule the world, to the ignorance of the international population. Or not, if the epiphany never comes and we remain addicted to our nerves and one-off highs. People. Some say the only way to the mind is through infecting the heart.
Reading Goebbels' Principles of Propaganda is almost analogous to peering into the calculative thought processes of a man who continually evokes grudging admiration, notwithstanding the prevailing historical context. It is a summary, yes, but a very useful one. It leaves me scared, but amazed, at the methodology, meticulous planning and executing of said plans. I am not supposed to.
I find it increasingly difficult to direct burning hatred towards someone whose 'back-story' I am familiar with, if such emotions exist in this core. This might be the reason behind the persistent refusal of some certain 'higher-up's to deliver an all-encompassing perspective. It would be akin to shifting blame (to..circumstances, the convergence of several unfortunate factors that, had they been absent, these individuals would have been blown away like dust from the history books as a mere statistic, not one underlined, highlighted), and all hell would break loose if we allow their humanness to get to us, because they must be seen as inhuman, in order for life, in its simplicity, to unwind itself from the confusing mess, and move on.
Yes, I still become weak-kneed before intellect. Is it all that bad? I do not think so.
I am to watch Black Swan tomorrow. I might not sleep tonight from excitement. I have heard too many after-movie horror stories from the experienced ones, and every one of them only heightens the anticipation. I would not have to endure low-grade internet streamed quality, as it would be too demeaning a treatment for a rare, macabre movie. I am hoping for a quiet, obedient audience at the cinema, and right there in the dark my thoughts would devour the sights, like it would, me, too.
Shred after shred, till it leaves me shaking.
---
There is something sickeningly sweet about an uxorious person (I dare to say this in a general, non-committal sense). It is flat poetry, of raw yearning or love (pick, any one), but delivered through the correct lips, it is a honeyed phrase. This too, describing a union between a male university professor and a blue-stocking. It is the marriage of minds, soul mates on levels too profound for the common man to even begin to comprehend, but they just might grasp the notion. I like to think of them bound to fill their house with bookcases forever, the hushed typing sounding late into the night, and the years sweep past like Victorian curtains until twin sounds of breathing suddenly become one.
Then the anguish increased to unendurable massivity and nightmare dimensions, making her scream and vomit. She wanted...to have her dark curls shaved to an aquamarine prickle, because they grew into her porous skull and curled inside. Jigsaw pieces of sky or wall came apart, no matter how delicately put together, but a careless jolt or a nurse's elbow can disturb so easily those lightweight fragments which became incomprehensible blancs of anonymous objects, or the blank backs of 'Scrabble' counters, which she could not turn over sunny side up, because her hands had been tied by a male nurse with Demon's black eyes.
- Vladimir Nobokov