/lit/ - Literature

>>11223015
even though the thread is over the limit and is heading for the archive...well, never leave a good post un(you'd), i'd say. with that in mind -

>these guys aren't carrying torches for the lost order, they could only know what's so wrong with the present one after having helped bury all the old ones, they're not diagnosing capitalism's schizophrenia, they ARE it, they're the last spasm of regret the suicide feels the instant his (our) hands have left the railing. there's no praxis here; it's just live commentary on a decomposition. and that's how impotent even brilliance has become, and how even more impotent the rest of us who aren't quite that caliber of luminary feel.

i think this is where we are, anon. i mean i would have loved to be an intellectual commissar. who wouldn't? but the war is over. at least, that war is. maybe this is how it feels to be at the end of time, in some sense. you know enlightened self-interest is as much of a meme as is whatever kind of Deus Vult you want to name. maybe that's what it means to be sovereign; you get to be in the state of exception. rootless, but at least not rooted to retardedness.

>and in a way i feel like this kind of philosophy is (highly sophisticated) sour grapes. but if it's the really good kind, you figure it out for yourself and are deprived of even that petty satisfaction. just alone with your mediocrity.

it is. but everybody's mediocre. or at least most people are. Facebook makes us way, way too aware of the successes of others, and it leads to a burnout society. it's okay to be burned out i think. part of me kind of thinks that it is partly on the ruins of this that a new kind of sensibility can take place, maybe. a more empathic and a less fucked-out and miserable mode of life. one in which we just kind of quietly secede from whatever hideous thing preys upon all these fantasies, the vortex of desire.

it's an unsexy epoch, and by no means a romantic one. but if i was looking at this from some great height, sub specie aeternatis, i'd have nothing but sympathy for anyone who managed to do nothing more but resist the gravitational pull of those things without giving in to despair. i think that would be the noblest kind of thing i could imagine. not good or evil, not utopian, none of that. just inwardly stubborn enough to hang in there, even if it's only to spite the obvious.

i hate philosophy, sometimes, and much of history too. but incredibly i feel these weird little hits sometime that are almost like love for my fellow man if i think of the shit-drifts he is going to have to wade through that aren't even those of his own making. it's not victim-based stuff, and it's not heroic. it's probably masochistic. but i feel these things sometimes. i just think, anybody who can make it through that kind of stuff is ok in my book. even if they accomplish nothing else. just survive it.

thanks for the post anon. and for that image also.