a boat far a’sea
adrift as tho’ waywardly
of course tho’ it be
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The Blank Means More
No Mind, No Attachment
The Mind in its dimensions is broad and great, like empty space. It has no sides or limits, it is neither square nor round, neither large nor small. It is neither blue, yellow, red, nor white; it has neither upper nor lower; it is neither long nor short. It knows neither anger nor pleasure, neither right nor wrong, neither good nor evil. It is without beginning and without end. But good friends, do not, hearing me speak of emptiness, become attached to emptiness.
– Shin’ichi Hisamatsu, from The Characteristics of Oriental Nothingness
#ofthejournals
Piddling Over An Abstraction
Have you got five minutes to spare?
No?
No time, you say?
Okay, if you had the time, what would you do with it?
Take your time and think.
I’m in no rush for I, personally, have all the time in the world.
Please stop looking at your watch phone.
Try to judge time’s movement without mechanics.
When was the last time you considered what time even means?
Or time as more than a deadline?
Is a five-minute wait a waste of time for you?
Depends on the situation, you say?
The Absurdity That Isn’t
I’m not a philosopher despite the fact that it is my belief that everyone with a thinking brain, and especially those without, is one, whether it be as a witting one or not.
No, I’m not a Philosopher, despite my occasional philosophizing about philosophical stuff, in the same regard that I’m not a Poet, despite the fact that I occasionally write poetic-like stuff.
Philosophy as a studied discipline is way too confounding for my confounded brain.
However, practicing a philosophy as a means for navigating life comes as natural to me as the act of breathing or as the desire to include unnecessary descriptive and expounding words, especially those oh so delightful words of the adverbial persuasion, into as much of my writing as possible.
For instance, I have no idea how many times other than a lot that I’ve attempted to read and understand such profound Philosophers as Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and Heidegger and Sartre and Camus and, regardless how many times it’s been, without fail and after only a few pages I have to put their books down in angry frustration and embarrassment from my inability to read the words that they have carefully and thoughtfully written for me with any sustained comprehension. It is maddening to me that, while I can read and understand just about any individual sentence of theirs, when moving on to a succeeding sentence, of which I can also read and understand, I invariably lose comprehension of the sentence which had just preceded it and which only seconds before I had understood.
If hell is other people, then a deeper hell is other people other than the people I can understand…
Ma
Realm of the Benevolent and Its Loss of Hope
More weird, rambling, forgotten writing recently found while rooting ’round the cluttered Draft files folder. I don’t remember writing it, ergo, I have no idea why it was written. However, as it appears to be a philosophical dilemma regarding torture, and, as torture has been one of the Freak Show promotional devices, I guess that kind of makes it relevant to today. Right?
Realm of the Benevolent and Its Loss of Hope
Or
The Significance of Being Earnest about Torture
You and your anointed line, the ancient Realm of the Benevolent, a most modest and compassionate line of monarchs if ever there was one, has ruled royal over all of the Earth’s bountiful domain from time immemorial. And while your realm has always been one full of Peace and Plenty, a new dark day has dawned upon it, for the Sorcerer of the Vile has finally united the Universal Forces of Evil against you and your humble people.
Spells by the Sorcerer have been cast, enchanting many of your brave and trusted nobles and subjugating them and all whom they lord over under the Forces of Evil. With so many of your own nobles now aligned against you, your realm’s existence is being threatened like it has never been threatened before. Your blood could be the last of your majestic line’s to flow.
One of your most valiant and strong amongst all your nobles, whose enchantment is yet unbeknownst to you, managed to storm the Chamber of the Grand Council of Goode while in session and kidnap your most trusted advisor and lifelong friend and one whom to all is known simply as Hope.
Hope has always been there for you for as long as you have ruled. Without her by your side, you feel lost, helpless. Defeated.
For days you hear nothing of Hope’s fate until finally a most horrid of dark riders on a most horrid of dark horses brings word straight from the Sorcerer of the Dark himself that he is willing to allow Hope to live, but only if you, like so many of your enchanted nobles have, swear a subjugating oath of fealty to him of the Vile.
And you have only until the Hour of Eight to do so.
Luckily, amidst your despair at the loss of Hope, word arrives from a messenger of the yet clear-headed and un-enchanted Lord Squarejaw that he and his loyal guard have captured a close confident of the Vile Sorcerer and one whom Squarejaw is certain knows where Hope can be found. But time is short and as of yet no answers are forthcoming from the Vile allegiant and Squarejaw fears and that there is only one way to get answers from his captive before the reckoning Hour of Eight strikes. And that way is through… torture.
For Hope’s sake, what do you, you in all your benevolence and grace, do?
~ Bring your ancient and noble line to an end by subjugating yourself and your realm to the Sorcerer of the Vile and his Forces of Evil, thereby letting Hope live?
~ Continue to resist the Sorcerer of the Vile and his Forces of Evil, thereby letting Hope die?
~ Sacrifice the ideals and principles of your ancient bloodline and Realm by ordering Lord Squarejaw to torture the Vile allegiant in the hope that the captive will provide the information that will enable you to save Hope before the Hour of Reckoning?
