25 May 2015

Pay no mind, cont.

Yesterday my Automatic Post Maker generated such a large glob of scripture that I had to rive the mass to fit it into this diary. Now here is an illustration that I found in an ancient pamphlet:

Not aphorisms

Running around with sheepfish is practically all I did when I was a nun.

To my mind, the overuse of anything emphatic is impossible.

It’s not just an anagram but also a palindrome of . . . dang, now I forgot what I was going to say.

I hope that the following internet link helps you understand why flowers are so pretty.

We constitute the Homer of electronic odds and ends, because of our earliness; but, if you know someone or something that came earlier, please let us know, because we’re interested in besting falsifiers.

I’ve always assumed that so-and-so is the reason Officer Duke reacts to David Dolores Frank’s music by saying: This stinks of Germany! (Pardon another reference to that film – the truth is that I earn an adult beverage every time I manage to cite Wrong Cops online.)

Profile

This is how my Fiendster page looked on May 24 of the End Times:

I know what you mean about the sad nature of ‘threshold singing’ but I love these people because they look so happy. I assume that they understand this line from Walt Whitman (Song of Myself, §6): “. . . to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.”

Your death song

While listening to the song that you have instructed us to play for you when you “enter into extremely advanced old age,” it made me feel like I was giving birth to kittens; so I applaud your choice.

My death song

When I myself am “frail and at the threshold,” I’ll request that Officer Duke recite his funeral outburst from near the end of the movie Wrong Cops; and then I’ll oblige everyone at my ceremony to listen to the following track by Mr. Oizo, which will be accompanied by hired dancers: a spotlight will shine on them, and the dancers’ movements will slowly imitate the motion that a person makes when they are preparing to enter into a game of Double Dutch jump rope. There will be no other movement – it will be a minimalistic dance. Now here is my death song:

Also, when I become the owner of a retail outlet, I will play the above track repeatedly on the store’s speaker system.

Not cont.

While you’re busy fabricating a deity, I’ll see if I can find some way to force people to worship it.

Solution to the USA’s illegal immigration problem: The immigrants in question should collectively announce a plan to engage in a walkout unless they are granted citizenship; for those in power are so dependent upon illegals that they shall straightway acquiesce.

I thought it would be easy to think of something grandfatherly to say here, but I’m drawing a blank.

If you can read Goethe’s Faust: Part 2 in German, I would do that rather than anything else. Very sincerely.

Yes, I am the exotic dancer on whom they based the original RoboCop.

My washout is grande, my ego is venti, and my cheeks are rouge on account of what you did.

I’ve been abusing this stuff ever since I became a natural blonde.

My apologies to Mr. Stanislavski – it turns out that his method of speeding the rate of one’s physical decay works fine after all.

I finished my chores early this morning so that I can spend the rest of the day conversing with wildlife.

At last we have located the deep end of the social network.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

................................................., , - [......] @..........(...)? ....\...., "..............., ......., ..........." & $? .........!!!!!

Bryan Ray said...

That’s a fruitful comparison – If anyone finds evidence of influence acknowledged in either direction, I’m eager to know of it – I love both of the artists that you mention: few minds were as ahead of their time as those two; and, in my opinion, our present age still hasn’t caught up to them – this generation even seems to be moving away from them, sadly.

The books that I own on either name mention the other a few times, but I can’t find any passage that shows one of them definitely and specifically citing his contemporary (I didn’t realize it until now, but the former was just a decade older than the latter, and they both died in exactly the same year). They obviously have major similarities and deserve to be grouped as ironic immoralists... or even as moralists. In a draft of a letter to Paul Rée, Nietzsche wrote:

...She told me herself that she had no morality—and I thought she had, like myself, a more severe morality than anybody...

Walter Kaufmann’s book on Nietzsche (subtitled Philosopher, Psychologist, Antichrist), likens him to Oscar Wilde a couple times – I’ll copy the passage that has the most sustained comparison, which I found most stimulating; it’s just two paragraphs:

Oscar Wilde, who agreed with Nietzsche that “all men kill the thing they love,” wrote a short, one-page “poem in prose” that he entitled “The Artist.” The artist wants to create a bronze image but finds no bronze in all the world except a previous work of his. He melts down his former creation to be able to use the bronze for his new work. This seemed to Nietzsche the essence of creativity and the way of all life.

There are insects among which the male dies after the act of copulation. Instead of seeking to preserve his life, he spends it—as Nietzsche would say—to enjoy the exercise of his potency and to gain immortality. This striving for immortality seemed important to Nietzsche. Oscar Wilde, in his prose-poem, called the new image for which the artist sacrificed his previous work, “The Pleasure That Abideth for a Moment.” Nietzsche, however, associated the creative Eros with the yearning for immortality.

Rye Baldy said...

Thank you so much for the time you take to answer every response thrown your way......it means a lot to me, and i really value your idea's, heartfullness, passion and everything else in between that can be deemed as super human in this age of deposition and dystopian ideas. Far flung from the classics that should envelop our time.....and rejuvenate us to a greater future and one-ness with life and each other....you may not realize this, but you are a inspiration to me in many ways, (i find this funny in a real funny way) so Anonymous sheds his skin to revel his true identity....thank you for your time as a student of words to bring us good faith in nothing,,,,,it means more than you will ever know.....love you....blessings from Dog......

Bryan Ray said...

Hey Dog! your note of thanks deserves its own note of thanks—it made my day to read your kind words here! I'm eager to move in the opposite direction from the crowd, and I appreciate that you join in and participate with me so frequently. Like early jazz music, I like when it feels like there's a giant "EVERYONE'S WELCOME" banner... so love & blessings to you too! From one humble Heraclitean to the progeny of Diogenes.

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