:: Random Scandom :: Sorry for the Delay @ juicy mood     Jan 29 2010, 11:08 (UTC+0) squished huntsman - mara said it was a baby too - and yes i have dirty finger nails i just finished gardening (*: nih writes: -- i have just arrived back to new zealand from australia with its staggering 42.9 degree fricken heat - standing outside in the daylight is like standing in front of a fire, its that hot, "i'm comparing new zealands 28 degrees we had here in new plymouth today". i definately made sure i found beaches to swim at - LOVED that (*: - in perth my friend mara and i saw a stingray swim underneath us, then seconds later, a huge star fish just chillin out under our toes and i mean larger than my feet put together, n yes i have big feet (*: I liked Australia for the wildness and the awesome creatures - example? - and im talking about around the house shit - not in the outback (*: bats thats fly over [the house i was staying in brisbane] at dusk from the exact same area every night - and i mean hundreds that take hours and hours to go where ever the hell thier goin, lizards climbing up walls, and thats INSIDE the house, to feed on bugs that loam fricken everywhere you look - huge ants taht sting you [ive been told simular to a wasp sting] if your stupid enough to just stand in one spot for to long - huge spiders sitting inbetween tree branches, at almost every house you walk past, the webs are as strong as cotton, like the type you use to sow your clothes with. and my favorite - big black crows that hang in families, like mum dad the kids even the grandparents deal, and they stay like that, they dont migrate to other families, i find that kinda wierd - little owls sitting in trees just outside the window, trees and plants with huge flowers and seed pods that look like thier from "land of the lost". and then last but not least thier famous huntsman spider, thank FUCK i never got to see a live specimen, but i took a photo of a dead one - that was stuck and STILL IS, in my mates laundry door, will upload that pic in time. i just need time to sort through the pics before i upload em. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 38   Printer-friendly version

:: Random Book :: The Antichrist, - by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - 21 - 25 - @ juicy mood     Nov 28 2009, 01:26 (UTC+0) Artist: WonderfulUgly -- UnderWorld -- by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Published 1895 - translation by H.L. Mencken - Published 1920 * * * * * 21. The things necessary to Buddhism are a very mild climate, customs of great gentleness and liberality, and no militarism; moreover, it must get its start among the higher and better educated classes. Cheerfulness, quiet and the absence of desire are the chief desiderata, and they are attained. Buddhism is not a religion in which perfection is merely an object of aspiration: perfection is actually normal.--Under Christianity the instincts of the subjugated and the oppressed come to the fore: it is only those who are at the bottom who seek their salvation in it. Here the prevailing pastime, the favourite remedy for boredom is the discussion of sin, self-criticism, the inquisition of conscience; here the emotion produced by power (called "God") is pumped up (by prayer); here the highest good is regarded as unattainable, as a gift, as "grace." Here, too, open dealing is lacking; concealment and the darkened room are Christian. Here body is despised and hygiene is denounced as sensual; the church even ranges itself against cleanliness (--the first Christian order after the banishment of the Moors closed the public baths, of which there were 270 in Cordova alone) . Christian, too; is a certain cruelty toward one's self and toward others; hatred of unbelievers; the will to persecute. Sombre and disquieting ideas are in the foreground; the most esteemed states of mind, bearing the most respectable names are epileptoid; the diet is so regulated as to engender morbid symptoms and over-stimulate the nerves. Christian, again, is all deadly enmity to the rulers of the earth, to the "aristocratic"--along with a sort of secret rivalry with them (--one resigns one's "body" to them--one wantsonly one's "soul" . . . ). And Christian is all hatred of the intellect, of pride, of courage of freedom, of intellectual libertinage; Christian is all hatred of the senses, of joy in the senses, of joy in general . . . * * * * * 22. Continued... Read comments (0) / Write comment Views: 175   Printer-friendly version

:: 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: 195   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: 352   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: 264   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: 380   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: 329   Printer-friendly version

the older posts:

• :: Random Book :: The Antichrist, - by Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Introduction
  Sep 11 2009, 07:23 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 4
  Aug 27 2009, 08:41 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Famous Quotes :: Albert Einstein
  Aug 09 2009, 11:46 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 3
  Aug 09 2009, 11:07 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Poem :: By Dante Alighieri -- ‘Voi che savete ragionar d’Amore’
  Jul 26 2009, 11:14 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Poem :: By Edgar Allan Poe - A Dream Within a Dream
  Jul 20 2009, 10:31 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 2
  Jul 17 2009, 14:11 (UTC+0)
  
• :; Random Poetry :: by Pablo Neruda -- If You Forget Me
  Jul 14 2009, 13:44 (UTC+0)
  
• :: Random Book :: The Greatest Sinner Ever -- By Eric Mellema - 1
  Jul 14 2009, 07:48 (UTC+0)
  
• updating soon
  Jul 07 2009, 12:31 (UTC+0)
  

Even older posts...