To 'Spasticulate electric ventriloquisms', or 'Ventriculate spastique electrocutions'. That is the question.

Monday, July 30, 2012

The whole truth? It's overated.

No matter how enduring, "truth" comes only once, provisional.
Then it disappears – along comes something else unusual.
Strictly "absence of a proof", truth should be read "approval".

Sooth-saying's only a belief to soothe the over-pliable.
It may inflame aquatically diluted, but it's not indubitable
'less something else's excluded by the absence of a scruple.

Rigid truth arrives like a ship of fools at anchor when what has been agreed or denied docks with that which is approved or disapproved, two behaviors slightly more active or meddlesome than merely transitively cognitive or passive, and around which moralitics and polity are tightly wound, bound and thenceforth declared sound, insensitive insistences like Titanic's hull wrapped too tight with paper shoe-laces and that screeching noise is laughed off 'cause we're all immortal beings; we've done away with feelings or replaced them with velcro prosthetics – in other words, it's cheating. It's been said "a lie" we're even living.

Truth must be authorised, but being the singular abrasive friction like a bow to a fiddle string, between the lines of sharing and withholding or exclusion into steerage, this is bare economics and should no more come across as a riddle than the construction of reality by permit-granting institutions, the guarantors of which are engines of control like a potentiometer at the throttle (once called a governor) enjoying no higher power than mechanical tradition or a settling in or selling out their ways, their position, an automated cruise without a captain at the wheely – on vacation most days, from where he can digitize a signature should an iceberg appear too big to fit his gin martini.

Even cops & bureaucrats who do the real throttling are dispensable as nothing can persistently continue the maniacal and raise a family of anything but anarchic reactionaries – thus making any discourse on the state of exception (just to camouflage the contradiction) an absurdity with neither practical relevance nor theoretical currency. There's never been an end to capricious, fickle slavery – wars are fought to ensure an enduring state of perdition for anyone beneath your station. Wives and children come to mind when husband-fathers say "this family's no democracy". The only true authority's an ethos called religion or for atheists, some healthy economic competition. It may as well be just another ego defense mechanism as politics can never float without an airy draft of one-upmanship that's pushing forth the boat.

Exceptions prove it's only gods that rule...and then they die. Up comes the new and improved, in function never quite as good but otherwise the same old same old, by and by. There's never been a sheep who'd follow flocks of herders lying dead within the grave year after year, even as a habit 'less they're chased by phantom dogs or grizzly bears. With this in mind, there is no truth but the moral wrung from a concorded acquiescence in the service of peace (as no one looks under rugs for what's been sweeped) making any balance a bit heavier on the acquiescent or conceded side & euphemised "consensus" but we know better, it's an ancient sacrifice of the bloodless just like any tenacious coalition of the willing, not brave like when the fabled, cynic lemmings living at the edge and giving up, en masse abandon ship.

And as unanimity can never be achieved without disgruntlement on even such as proper seating placements, war can never really be avoided – pressed into service, militancy is the third leg of any claim to truth, the moral economy of a broken tooth or a look down the nose at "those kind of people" builds both academies and cathedrals armed with truth, for sooth, there's no escape from religious inquisition when someone has the balls to answer with a pointed question as if a spear into the side of the chief heir apparent – they'll come after you when their "feelings" hurt: they're christianly politic so can't tolerate a heretic or critic not to mention those appearing on the scene all out of fashion or demanding a commission without displaying a significant certificate.

If you or I behaved as they, we'd be called paranoid and living in a statuesque delusion. Some would say we're normal. Unbeknownst to either talking side, abolishing the truth (or statute) does not generate a lie (they're there already), it puts an end to the debate and not only that (as well it should) both ends and their means to appropriate. Safer to approximate – all already know there could be error and big mistakes. The truth is just another form of property and law is money for the corporate state. For all else there's the dictionary (look up "the joint" or "penitentiary")...unless, of course, it's self-defense and you can't pause to hide or hesitate and your attackers do not represent or have a bent toward colloquial establishments.

The equivalence of opposites prove nine times out of ten, and in retrospect that's how often they'll disagree although their story is the same. The one exception is they're unrelated as criterion, hinge or pivot has been fabricated like there's such a creature as a continuum with ends defining nations or other false-flag operations: it's no insincerity, the golden rule's been thought to capitalize the pig who wants to put a cap or two in you, and sometimes in the negative: don't fuck with folks the way they fuck with you right to the end. The closest thing to truth or any rule of thumb is "It all more-or-less depends". Just try controlling situations outside of science-lab conditions and you'll understand the paradoxic aphorism, "be careful what you wish, you might just get it".

Only in a gas tank, like hydrocephaly,
is water priced four bucks a gallon,
a flim-flam specialty, a pretext that's delusion:
the kind they use (it's from the tap) is free
but never from an atom bomb pollution
so they say tobacco leaf is at the root the evil seed
and since they're experts, nine out of ten
consistently agree.
Atka Mip

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Power is Bullshit

The only good to which logic can be put is the utter destruction of another claim to fame resulting not in a victory of truth over error but self & mutual-annihilation since logic being its own means brings on its own end when a simple accusation by the referee decrees that the equivalence of skill and weaponry must always result in a draw of ambiguity – any close race is judged by an arbitrary agenda like time and politic or space, never grace as that's just a trendy accessory – unbalanced skill proves nothing but the authority of dogma, carte blanche for exclusion of any inconvenient matter hanging 'round the pointed snake like a stake called "criterion" or "index", a "categorical constraint" and sometimes "principle" which is always an investment like a scuba diver in a wet-suit making the distinction between philosophy and sophistry and logic and rhetoric always subject to another debate – the exchange of weapons is but an expression, hypocritic, considering the assertion that "there are no absolutes" is itself an absolute claim but never-the-less rests on the assumption that bullshit is inversely proportioned to the reality of truth (as if anyone has a prior claim to that) for sooth only rhymes with a pointed tooth even when the words sound soothing and truth is only ever what is nurtured – otherwise dabbled, alluded, abstruse.

No matter the diction, best stick with fiction, to impress with a guess, to avoid a conviction.

Not unlike our senior Lewis Carrol, Charles Peirce said of reason's fame, it only represents the inner workings of an active brain. It may be that nothing else is due it – when it claims for naught but silly fun and games. Play explores the endless possibility. The end of play has thus been labeled ego's "victory", and always for the other, death at most, or less, eternal "shame". Without ambition or any ambi-valence, each and every utterance is only seen a rudder steering through a sea of chance and sometimes that's all there is to keep us going. To let go or insist with great authority will always suck us down into a whirling fetish, and that is what is called "a certainty" – it's only spreading thin a bun with elderly relish.