in the arsehole of diogenes

NEO-HERACLITUS_____________Qweir Notions in the arsehole of Diogenes: weBlog of a septuagenarian Binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Thursday, 31 March 2016

Perhaps

Islam could be described as
a religion for gangsters,
while Christianity
might be described as
a religion for swindlers
and cheats.
Both feature Ascension,
and both have hi-jacked
our small spiritual dimension.

Wednesday, 30 March 2016

Have you noticed

that people notice
only what they are prepared
to notice ?
(But young children
notice
unprepared.
which is why they are educated
out of noticing.)

Foxhunting in Germany

was banned by a certain art-loving
Prime Minister of Prussia
called Hermann Göring,
who had an even more famous
vegetarian friend.

Tuesday, 29 March 2016

The Terror of Error

Terrorist hijackers and bombers are unlikely to equal this result of Human Error (and Stress):

http://enrique262.tumblr.com/post/141779584077/today-39-years-ago-the-worlds-worst-air

"Only the good die young."

and only the stupid,
the demented
or insanely happy
die old.

Enlightenment

includes getting all
the erotic pleasure you can take -
from your ears, your eyes, your nose
and your dinner.

Monday, 28 March 2016

On the illegalisation of certain drugs.

John Ehrlichman (yes that John Ehrlichman):

“The Nixon campaign in 1968, and the Nixon White House after that, had two enemies:
the anti-war left, and black people. 

You understand what I’m saying? 
We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or black, 
but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. 
We could arrest their leaders, raid their homes, break up their meetings, 
and vilify them night after night on the evening news. 
Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.”



Does this blogger smoke ?
Yes - with no tobacco - about once every 3 or 4 weeks.

Money

doesn't just talk:
it never stops drowning out
intelligent and worthwhile
conversation.

Sunday, 27 March 2016

We love life

as flies love turds.
Too much of life
consists of words.



This Easter, 100 years after

the "Easter Rising" (in late April)
by Irish terrorists/fanatics/patriots
mainly in Dublin, the BBC broadcast - not O'Casey's
"The Plough and the Stars" -
but Beckett's wonderful
"All that Fall", his only play for radio.

It is not difficult to see Maddy Rooney (the principal character)
as Mother Ireland (the deliberate opposite of Britannia)
and her blind husband Dan as an Irish civil servant
working for Dublin Castle.
This, to me, is one of the greatest plays of all time
(and Beckett's best), to match Chekhov
and even Euripides.

The original, marvellous 1957 BBC production,
overseen by Beckett himself, can be listened to on youTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BY22jmHAS5E


Saturday, 26 March 2016

Friday, 25 March 2016

Thursday, 24 March 2016

It has been said

that 'love' is a kind of espionage.
It is (perhaps) more true to say
that espionage is a kind of 'love'.

Perhaps

there are no
Simple Truths
Lapsed Catholics
Just Wars
Bad dogs
- nor is there even
Pure Evil*.

*Homo sapiens manages only 99% .

Wednesday, 23 March 2016

Toes

A useful point of view.

They think

 that the World Wide Web
(and their blogs) will last 'forever'.
The fools!  All will be destroyed
by our endeavour.

Tuesday, 22 March 2016

The Caylus Concatenation

I have rarely quaffed cocktails
(just, very occasionally, typically sweet
English concatenations: gin and tonic,
Pimm's Number One, Americano.
But now that I am embarking on my Second
(mercifully shorter) Life of Quest and Ease
I invented my first cocktail, today, in fact - to please
the Bearz:

          LA CONCATENATION CAYLUSIENNE
          1 part dry Gin
          1 part Cinzano Dry (or Extra Dry; or Noilly Prat Dry)
          1 dash of 55% Absente absinthe.

"Delicious - and invigorating
(especially before - or after - masturbating*)."

* (see alternative rhyme below)

Personality :

a constellation of blind spots
in a galaxy of contradictions.

Monday, 21 March 2016

The Dream

Just as ascent to Christian Heaven
(where eternal life might turn out to be
eternal longing to escape)
depended on Good Works, Faith and Obedience,
so Capitalist Utopia depends on the Work Ethic,
Ambition, the profit/status motive and Obedience.

However, as Karl Marx observed, the inbuilt greed
of capitalism produces ever more mechanisation
to save labour costs, so that there are fewer and fewer
workers and secretaries, more and more 'unemployment'.
Thus the work ethic will evaporate, and the system
(but probably not the class system) will rot away
for lack of motivation.


Saturday, 19 March 2016

As far back as I can faultily remember

I have been upon the edge - marginal,
but rarely edgy, and not worried that I might be
one-of-a-kind, alone in the worldly world.
Thoughts keep me company (books too, of course,
and landscapes) and I am always thinking,
just as swifts are always flying, but less capably,
less elegantly, for thoughts are less than air
(yet horribly more, of course), and humans,
now already ego-choked and throttled by each other's egos,
tend to get mired in, housed in, trapped in thoughts
(usually other people's) - and if not in thoughts
then (worse) in merely following, obeying.

I feel compassion  for, empathise with, dogs,
horses, monkeys, rats, snakes and centipedes
rather more than 'fellow' humans.  A moral crime !
the moralists might say. Psychiatrists and sociologists
would find me less than 'socialised' despite
the fourteen years at school, where socialised conformity
was a much higher priority than Greek or even chemistry.

Love is not necessary, if you feel good
and feel good about your wanting self,
your smells, the landscape, what you eat and drink
and listen to - and every day a little - or greatly -
different and chosen from all the possibilities
of marginal autonomy, not doing things
because you are commanded or expected to,
nor on unconsidered whim, nor because you, merely, can
as you did long ago as legendary cave-woman or cave-man.

However, you and I - like it or not - are we.

Carlos Castaneda tried to show that there are many possibilities
for quite different perceptions and enactments of realities
- but that considerable effort upon effort and miry miracle
must be made to find, choose and (temporarily) inhabit them.
His books are allegorical - apparently phantasmagorical
because they challenge 1+1 and A cannot be not-A.
We are capable of magic, but confine ourselves to a single
metallurgic, demiurgic, reduced pseudo-reality: slavish conformity.
We fear the awesome, unutterably utterly, and have not
the slightest idea how to use enhancingly even lowly alcohol
to transcend our humdrum states and moods -
let alone far better substances and foods,

and music, the only activity that we do harmlessly and well.

Yeats knew this. Rilke too, but they bound themselves
by fabulously well-wrought language : our Ur-undoing.
In daylight we lie down on the emperor's pavement,
like gabbling shadows, repeating slavish mantras
- and are squashed to pulp by Hubris, Nemesis, nonentity and Destiny.
The Emperor is not God (artifabstract of stressed minds),
nor man, nor mage, nor yet a holy beast -
but unholy and heuristic writ.
And, O I-you-we-they who live by measurement and numbers!
that's the sum of it.

Friday, 18 March 2016

Meditation on lines by Rumi

Meditation on lines by Rumi

Cities, towns and everything between
scorched and blackened, devastated -

the only news is future full of grief -
while inside me there is no news at all
just in-fancy.

Flies love shit and corpses,
drown in milk.
Life is shit.
We are conceited flies
breeding in blood.
Milk is mystery.
The less I do
the happier I am.

Thursday, 17 March 2016

The genes, the culture, the horror.

Stalin's grand-daughter, who lives in the north-western United States (where else ?).

Just as hope should be no vehicle,

Utopia should be no destination,
but something to be avoided
like illiberal Political Correctness
and the closing down of minds
that passes for education.

Wednesday, 16 March 2016

The normal Britlish

want to blend, or be invisible
in Britain, but like to stick out
like sore thumbs
or devotees of  a demi-god
of misrule
when they are abroad.

Tuesday, 15 March 2016

Man's Little Destiny - 2

When you, like time,
are out of joint,
whatever you do,
do nothing, nor suffer
incoherent or coherent
misery in silence.

As Liberal Extremists in the USA

concern themselves with 'Cultural Appropriation'
and preach a New Fascism of Cultural Purity
(don't for any reason wear a Mexican sombrero
or play the Persian santur)
other illiberal extremists there are backing as presidential candidate
an in(s)ane demagogue who wants to expel Mexicans
and impede the entry of all Muslims to the country.

Monday, 14 March 2016

Sunday, 13 March 2016

In the Carson McCullers sense of it

there is no we of me,
nor ever was,
although I sought them sporadically
following the 'normality'
which now I combat very cheerfully,
aware that you are unknowable
and they scary or contemptible
or both.  My we is very split:
part tree, part stone, part dog
and partly social escapee.

Saturday, 12 March 2016

Fussy luxury.

Dear God! I was there - yes,
I was there - hovering outside
like a wolf beyond the flames,
knowing something of what was happening
nearby, and that worse was happening farther in
where I couldn't see or hear, just feel -
and I was paralysed by feeling,
motionless in fussy luxury,
and, though "poor" in my society.
enjoying dissociation - the luxury of the rich
- listening and not listening,
seeing with both eyes shut,
and all communication cut.

Friday, 11 March 2016

A Friend's Account of a Second DiMethylTryptamine EXPERIENCE

"I loaded the pipe with what I thought was the same amount as the first time, I don't know whether there was already some left in there -or whether I put a larger amount in - but I was catapulted to another world - totally leaving reality. The pipe was thick with smoke and I was hardly able to hold it all in.

"I was dancing above my head in a 'mystical' land, and staring down at myself - able to answer questions and thoughts before they had happened. Then I started to age, on retrospect I was seeing my life flash before my eyes like people have reported when dying. I grew old and was in a wheelchair being looked after. The experience was fun when I was young, but then I grew old to the point where I could not understand the people around me - and this was scary. This was when I started to come round and back to normality not knowing what had happened... It seemed like this had lasted for about 45 minutes at least although at a guess was more like 10 minutes if not less.

"Powerful stuff!

"Whereas on the first occasion I had the option of opening my eyes to ground myself back in reality, this time I did not have any options other than to float off and seem to leave the planet.

"I was a little startled as did not realise that it could have this effect. But after doing some reading I realised that this is known as 'breaking through'. I was conversing with strange mythical creatures. After a while I began to feel lost, I didn't know where I was or how I had arrived. I told myself that it was a short trip but, having no concept of time, I remember feeling a little distressed when I was 'coming round' and unable to recall much of what had happened. I was able, however, to lift my mood by sitting near the fire. Everything I looked at was pixellated, composed of big bold blocks of colour.

"I continued to trip very hard, barely aware of being in my own house. The after effect was longer than the first time, and I was glad to be able to continue the experience after returning from my journey away from Earth.

"Later that evening I had another go... I had read an article about people's experiences and read about 'breaking through'. Happier knowing that this is what had happened, I wanted to go back and explore.

"I had another fairly large hit and could feel myself floating up and leaving the room - where as the last time I had been worried by this I was able to relax and enjoy the experience. I left my house and floated up to a mystical land of clouds where I came to rest. I was welcomed by people wearing white robes with big beards, God and his buddies… We played football together and I felt extremely welcome. I was filled with total euphoria, as high and elated as could be and with a great sense of achievement.

"It seems it is definitely better to try to relax into the trip - although easier said than done initially when I felt as if whizzing away from Earth...quite something to feel like you are floating up out of your body. I was not able to ground myself back in reality whilst being above the clouds and did not want to. I'm not sure, but I think I had my eyes open during the experience.

"Whilst returning to normal, with no adverse effects other than wanting the trip to continue, I felt a little cold and hungry, but not distressed.

"It would work very well with mushrooms.

"You can make a good pipe from a miniature brandy-bottle with a conical bottom, which you break with an awl or something similar : hold the bottle over the top of the screw driver and then hit the handle on the floor to force it through. Or a drill, of course. Carefully clean out the broken glass. Get proper coarse wire wool, crunch it up and insert a little way down into the neck of the bottle, so that it is tight, but you are still able to breathe through it. Reverse the bottle. Then maybe add a small amount of tobacco ash on top of this. The DMT can go on top of the ash. Apply mouth to hole, heat gently from below with a lighter or a match or a taper. It melts instantly. Inhale gently to fill the bottle with smoke, then inhale deeply...."


MORE: http://www.shroomery.org/forums/showflat.php/Number/9570496/fpart/all/vc/1http://www.shroomery.org/forums/showflat.php/Number/9570496/fpart/all/vc/1


                                                   "I smoked a third of what was in the bag ..."

Thursday, 10 March 2016

The News Today:

Militarist Britain is starting to establish CCFs
(Combined Cadet Forces, i.e. military training for adolescents)
in state-funded schools.
They have for decades featured importantly in
private, militarist, fee-paying schools for the rich,
the privileged and the upwardly-mobile.
Is the British education system starting to imitate ISIS/Daesh
by indoctrinating its young for a new smash-and-grab empire
to challenge the upcoming Caliphate ?

Rest In Peace
























After 135 years the Synagogue in Corcaigh/Cork (Ireland) has closed its doors forever,
because of a lack of worshippers.

MEANWHILE IN BELFAST... 













(go figure!)

Pillars of Light

[click photo to enlarge]




















"It has been a couple of years since the Department of Awesome Natural Phenomena first discovered a stunning atmospheric optical phenomemon known as Light Pillars, when extremely cold weather makes it look asif aliens are dropping in for a visit. In fact the appearance of light pillars is sometimes the cause of false UFO reports.

"Instead of visitors from another world, light pillars are the result of many flat, hexagonal ice crystals in the air that collectively function as a giant mirror. They reflect light from the sun, moon, or even street lights upwards and/or downwards to create the appearance of a radiant column of light. The larger the ice crystals, the stronger the effect."

Head over to My Modern Metropolis for more photos.

The commonest nouns

in spoken English
are time and people.
No need to wonder why.
The commonest words in rock and pop-songs
are I, me, my...

Wednesday, 9 March 2016

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

More statistics.

The commonest nouns in spoken English
are time and people.
No need to wonder why.
The commonest words in rock and pop-songs
are  I, me, my.

Monday, 7 March 2016

Unlike other primates

most humans
most of the time
to a greater or lesser extent
are robotic.
Thus we have dominion over
the beasts and plants.

Saturday, 5 March 2016

Go tell it to the bees.

Just as we might understand our love
only after (maybe a long time after)
it fades and disappears,
so we might understand our lives
as we advance in years

and it dawns on us that really, truly, deeply,
nothing matters (least of all  Progress, science
religion, God and minaret or steeple)
and we can comfort
ourselves only with the futile fantasy
of saving the world from human people.

Friday, 4 March 2016

Knit your own Novel !

There are so many good books
being written now
and for the past 20 years at least
especially by women
that the formerly latent
talent for writing seems
utterly widespread.
Yet in every one I read
I find at least one mistake -
of geography, or plot, or spelling
(Marie Celeste for Mary Celeste)
or language (bon viveur for bon vivant,
double-entendre for double entente)
or meaning (rifle for riffle, tend to
for attend to, fine toothcomb for
fine-toothed comb, wracked for racked).
Thus I am much more talented at
(and attuned to) editing
(some might say pedantry)
than at creative writing.

Thursday, 3 March 2016

Morality

like the rich
barricades itself
in ever stronger, richer,
and yet foundationless
palaces.

Wednesday, 2 March 2016

The most beautiful invention

apart from music
(but more futile)
is the Chinese Incense Clock,
by which you knew the time
by the scent of myrrh
or frankincense
- or perhapsthe midnight smell of murder
on the breath..

Tuesday, 1 March 2016

The stuff

with which we stuff our lives
(which are no more than conceits
of consciousness)
is the detritus of the despair
we try successfully
and destructively to deny.