:: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 5 @ juicy mood     Nov 11 2009, 04:35 (UTC+0) Artist: Unknown -- By Eric Mellema ::::::::::::::: The Greatest Sinner Ever ::::::::::::::: Chapter 5 Alone in the night during secret study Resting on a copper tripod The flame from the void ignites that success Where frivolity is sinful A herd of white horses ran as the wind and a flock of flamingos rose up and then descended again a little further on. The doctor on his mare galloped through the Camargue, the stretch of wilderness where he found strength and peace in his spare time. It was so enjoyable to be able to ride through this beautiful countryside full of lakes and lagoons; a wonderful place for water fowl. He left the swampy heath behind him and steered his horse in the direction of the dunes. A black stork-like bird nervously darted off. On top of the dune he stopped and stared at the sea's horizon for a while. The Camargue was like an island, divided by the Mediterranean Sea and the river arms of the Rhone. The age-old sediment of the river water with its tidal activities had given the landscape a special character. It was constantly changing and every time he came here there was something new to discover. The only stamp humanity had been able to place upon this watery plain were the perfectly straight tracks from a distant Roman past. He led his mount to the wide sandy beach and let the wind blow away the many impressions left by his patients. In the distance, he saw the dark profile of a bull disappear behind a hill. He was urging his mare on, hoping to discover more wild bulls, when he heard a horse trotting behind him. He turned around and saw a woman on a jet-black stallion. The rider, wearing a red headscarf, passed him without a greeting and disappeared into the dunes. It looks like she's following something. I want to investigate this, he thought and he spurred his horse on in the same direction. His curiosity aroused, he observed from a dune top what that the tough woman was doing. She seemed to be racing like a maniac after a group of wild horses, leaving great clouds of dust in her wake. Seagulls, cormorants, birds of prey and others of their ilk, all dispersed at once. She's herding wild horses! he determined, astonished. I'd better give her a hand, and he rode down the hill and brought his horse to a gallop. Several flamingos, with plankton in their beaks, were startled by the unexpected visitor and immediately stopped feeding their young. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 27   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Poetry :: by E. E. Cummings -- Now Does Our World Descend... @ juicy mood     Oct 10 2009, 09:55 (UTC+0) Artist: Noah Kh -- R00t Of Life -- Biography by Marty Eich -- Edward Estlin Cummings was born October 14, 1894 in the town of Cambridge Massachusetts. His father, and most constant source of awe, Edward Cummings, was a professor of Sociology and Political Science at Harvard University. In 1900, Edward left Harvard to become the ordained minister of the South Congregational Church, in Boston. As a child, E.E. attended Cambridge public schools and lived during the summer with his family in their summer home in Silver Lake, New Hampshire. E.E. loved his childhood in Cambridge so much that he was inspired to write disputably his most famous poem, "In Just-" continued at the end of this poem -- Now Does Our World Descend... now does our world descend the path to nothingness (cruel now cancels kind; friends turn to enemies) therefore lament,my dream and don a doer's doom create is now contrive; imagined,merely know (freedom:what makes a slave) therefore,my life,lie down and more by most endure all that you never were hide,poor dishonoured mind who thought yourself so wise; and much could understand concerning no and yes: if they've become the same it's time you unbecame Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 117   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Book :: The Antichrist, - by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - 11 - 20 @ juicy mood     Oct 07 2009, 01:22 (UTC+0) Melaten-Friedhof, Köln -- out of the mists -- by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Published 1895 - translation by H.L. Mencken - Published 1920 * * * * * 11. A word now against Kant as a moralist. A virtue must be our invention; it must spring out of our personal need and defence. In every other case it is a source of danger. That which does not belong to our life menaces it; a virtue which has its roots in mere respect for the concept of "virtue," as Kant would have it, is pernicious. "Virtue," "duty," "good for its own sake," goodness grounded upon impersonality or a notion of universal validity--these are all chimeras, and in them one finds only an expression of the decay, the last collapse of life, the Chinese spirit of Konigsberg. Quite the contrary is demanded by the most profound laws of self-preservation and of growth: to wit, that every man find hisown virtue, his own categorical imperative. A nation goes to pieces when it confounds its duty with the general concept of duty. Nothing works a more complete and penetrating disaster than every "impersonal" duty, every sacrifice before the Moloch of abstraction. --To think that no one has thought of Kant's categorical imperative as dangerous to life!...The theological instinct alone took it under protection !--An action prompted by the life-instinct proves that it is a right action by the amount of pleasure that goes with it: and yet that Nihilist, with his bowels of Christian dogmatism, regarded pleasure as an objection . . . What destroys a man more quickly than to work, think and feel without inner necessity, without any deep personal desire, without pleasure--as a mere automaton of duty? That is the recipe for decadence, and no less for idiocy. . . Kant became an idiot. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 100   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Song Of the Moement :: UNICEF, MTV EXIT and The Killers: Goodnight, Travel Well @ juicy mood     Sep 18 2009, 14:41 (UTC+0) 1. "Losing Touch" 4:15 2. "Human" 4:09 3. "Spaceman" 4:44 4. "Joy Ride" 3:33 5. "A Dustland Fairytale" 3:45 6. "This Is Your Life" 3:41 7. "I Can't Stay" 3:06 8. "Neon Tiger" 3:05 9. "The World We Live In" 4:40 10. "Goodnight, Travel Well" 6:51 -- By The Killers -- Album: Day & Age the unknown distance to the great beyond stares back at my grieving frame to cast my shadow by the holy sun my spirit moans .. with a sacred pain its quiet now the universe is standing still theres nothing i can say say say theres nothing we can do now now theres nothing i can say say theres nothing we can do now n all that stands between the souls release this temporary flesh and bone we know that its over now i feel my faded mind begin to roam roam http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IoTBclI22Dk every time you fall n every time you try try every foolish dream n every compromise every word you spoke n everything you said said everything you left me rambles in my head head head theres nothing i can say say say :: theres nothing i can say :: theres nothing i can do now now theres nothing i can say say say :: nothing i can say :: theres nothing i can do now now up above the world so high Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 191   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Book :: The Antichrist, - by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Preface - 10 @ juicy mood     Sep 18 2009, 14:02 (UTC+0) Melaten-Friedhof, Köln -- eternal [natural light] -- by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Published 1895 - translation by H.L. Mencken - Published 1920 * * * * * Preface This book belongs to the most rare of men. Perhaps not one of them is yet alive. It is possible that they may be among those who understand my "Zarathustra": how could I confound myself with those who are now sprouting ears?--First the day after tomorrow must come for me. Some men are born posthumously. The conditions under which any one understands me, and necessarily understands me--I know them only too well. Even to endure my seriousness, my passion, he must carry intellectual integrity to the verge of hardness. He must be accustomed to living on mountain tops--and to looking upon the wretched gabble of politics and nationalism as beneath him. He must have become indifferent; he must never ask of the truth whether it brings profit to him or a fatality to him.... He must have an inclination, born of strength, for questions that no one has the courage for; the courage for the forbidden; predestination for the labyrinth. The Antichrist, by F. W. Nietzsche 17 experience of seven solitudes. New ears for new music. New eyes for what is most distant. A new conscience for truths that have hitherto remained unheard. And the will to economize in the grand manner--to hold together his strength, his enthusiasm.... Reverence for self; love of self; absolute freedom of self.... Very well, then! of that sort only are my readers, my true readers, my readers foreordained: of what account are the rest?--The rest are merely humanity.--One must make one's self superior to humanity, in power, in loftiness of soul,--in contempt. Friedrich W Nietzsche. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 159   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Book :: The Antichrist, - by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Introduction @ juicy mood     Sep 11 2009, 07:23 (UTC+0) Der Sensemann, Skulptur von August Schmiemann (Bildhauer) auf dem Melaten-Friedhof in Köln und Patenschaftsgrab -- [The Grim Reaper, sculpture by August Schmiemann (sculptor) on the Melaten cemetery in Cologne and sponsorship grave] -- by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Published 1895 - translation by H.L. Mencken - Published 1920 * * * * * Introduction Save for his raucous, rhapsodical autobiography, "Ecce Homo," "The Antichrist" is the last thing that Nietzsche ever wrote, and so it may be accepted as a statement of some of his most salient ideas in their final form. Notes for it had been accumulating for years and it was to have constituted the first volume of his long-projected magnum opus, "The Will to Power." His full plan for this work, as originally drawn up, was as follows: Vol. I. The Antichrist: an Attempt at a Criticism of Christianity. Vol. II. The Free Spirit: a Criticism of Philosophy as a Nihilistic Movement. Vol. III. The Immoralist: a Criticism of Morality, the Most Fatal Form of Ignorance. Vol. IV. Dionysus: the Philosophy of Eternal Recurrence. The first sketches for "The Will to Power" were made in 1884, soon after the publication of the first three parts of "Thus Spake Zarathustra," and thereafter, for four years, Nietzsche piled up notes. They were written at all the places he visited on his endless travels in search of health--at Nice, at Venice, at Sils-Maria in the Engadine (for long his favourite resort), at Cannobio, at Zürich, at Genoa, at Chur, at Leipzig. Several times his work was interrupted by other books, first by "Beyond Good and Evil," then by * * * * * The Antichrist, by F. W. Nietzsche 3 "The Genealogy of Morals" (written in twenty days), then by his Wagner pamphlets. Almost as often he changed his plan. Once he decided to expand "The Will to Power" to ten volumes, with "An Attempt at a New Interpretation of the World" as a general sub-title. Again he adopted the sub-title of "An Interpretation of All That Happens." Finally, he hit upon "An Attempt at a Transvaluation of All Values," and went back to four volumes, though with a number of changes in their arrangement. In September, 1888, he began actual work upon the first volume, and before the end of the month it was completed. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 161   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 4 @ juicy mood     Aug 27 2009, 08:41 (UTC+0) Artist: Felix -- By Eric Mellema ::::::::::::::: The Greatest Sinner Ever ::::::::::::::: Chapter 4 Pau, Nay, Loron, more fire than blood Swimming in praise the great flees across the water He will deny the magpies entrance Pampon and Durance keep them imprisoned Late one night there was an unexpected loud banging on the front door of an inn, somewhere high in the Pyrenees. The owner reluctantly opened it and was startled by the scary-looking person on his front step. The sinister visitor was wearing a dirty black cape with a hood and had a wild beard. He had an evil look and his face looked like tanned leather. "Um, sorry, we're closed," the innkeeper said, frightened. "Then why is the door open," the stranger objected; then he gave him a franc and obstinately walked in. "I want to stay here for a few days," the traveler continued. It seemed pointless to argue with him. "I guess we do have a room," the landlord stammered, "but may I ask you what your name is?" "You may call me Discute," he answered, and the owner showed him to his room. "I would like something to eat and drink before I go to sleep," his guest let him know, and again pressed a franc into his hand. He sure is generous with his money, the host thought greedily and he quickly put a jug of beer in front of him before he hurried to the kitchen to prepare a meal. After a little while, he served the weird fellow some hot mush. The ill-at-ease innkeeper wanted to go to bed, but thought he'd better stay alert for the time being. "Mister Discute, did you see the beautiful sky? Even in these mountains it is rare to see so many stars in the heavens." "No, I didn't notice," his guest answered and stoically continued to eat. "You can even see the planet Mars," the owner continued. "With the naked eye?" "Yes, of course, what else?" "A spy glass!" the stranger declared, who wiped his mouth and then drank his beer in one gulp. "I've never heard of that," the owner stammered. "I once had one," his guest claimed, who had finished his plate and was now getting ready to go to sleep. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 207   Printer-friendly version

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