/lit/ - Literature

Otto Weininger's Sex and Character when he starts talking about Kant, he makes it the center of Kant's whole philosophy. Nikolai Berdyaev's Solitude and Society is basically an extension of the same idea but he tries to set up an escape with his ideas of 'communion' and avoiding 'disintegration' from mass 'objectifying forces'
>The secret of the critique of practical reason is that man is alone in the world, in tremendous eternal isolation.
>He has no object outside himself ; lives for nothing else; he is far removed from being the slave of his wishes, of his abilities, of his necessities; he stands far above social ethics ; he is alone.
>Thus he becomes one and all; he has the law in him, and so he himself is the law, and no mere changing caprice. The desire is in him to be only the law, to be the law that is himself, without afterthought or forethought. This is the awful conclusion, he has no longer the sense that there can be duty for him. Nothing is superior to him, to the isolated absolute unity. But there are no alternatives for him; he must respond to his own categorical imperatives, absolutely, impartially. " Freedom," he cries (for instance, Wagner, or Schopenhauer), " rest, peace from the enemy; peace, not this endless striving " ; and he is terrified. Even in this wish for freedom there is cowardice; in the ignominious lament there is desertion as if he were too small for the fight. What is the use of it all, he cries to the universe ; and is at once ashamed, for he is demanding happiness, and that his own burden should rest on other shoulders. Kant's lonely man does not dance or laugh; he neither brawls nor makes merry; he feels no need to make a noise, because the universe is so silent around him. To acquiesce in his loneliness is the splendid supremacy of the Kantian

>The secret of the critique of practical reason is that man is alone in the world, in tremendous eternal isolation.

>He has no object outside himself ; lives for nothing else; he is far removed from being the slave of his wishes, of his abilities, of his necessities; he stands far above social ethics; he is alone.

>Thus he becomes one and all; he has the law in him, and so he himself is the law, and no mere changing caprice. The desire is in him to be only the law, to be the law that is himself, without afterthought or forethought. This is the awful conclusion, he has no longer the sense that there can be duty for him. Nothing is superior to him, to the isolated absolute unity. But there are no alternatives for him; he must respond to his own categorical imperatives, absolutely, impartially. " Freedom," he cries (for instance, Wagner, or Schopenhauer), " rest, peace from the enemy; peace, not this endless striving " ; and he is terrified. Even in this wish for freedom there is cowardice; in the ignominious lament there is desertion as if he were too small for the fight. What is the use of it all, he cries to the universe ; and is at once ashamed, for he is demanding happiness, and that his own burden should rest on other shoulders. Kant's lonely man does not dance or laugh; he neither brawls nor makes merry; he feels no need to make a noise, because the universe is so silent around him. To acquiesce in his loneliness is the splendid supremacy of the Kantian

This is what a real man is. This is the only type of man a real Kantian can respect. And that's what Kantianism really is, a code of respect and self respect. Kantians step on worms. This is what sublime vanity looks like. The impossible glory of man revealed. No true man could be in a uniform marching with others. Follower or leader. Father, brother or son. He is responsible only to himself; he must follow none other; he must not forget himself even in his work ; he is alone ; he is free ; he is lord of himself

>>22122540
>>22123343
Stop lying, or you're hopelessly naïve or sheltered and you've never seen a true Don Juan in action. There is nothing more trivial to understand, the so called nuances and complexities are paper thin. This constant lying is so annoying. Romance as a genre comes from comedy, the humor results from the woman being gullible and the man is always a liar but it works out in the end. Romance is literally a comedic genre historically, how else would you look at it without it being insane. Romantic Idealism is something completely different where the woman is just a symbol for another type of drama. Romeo and Juliet is a political drama, Rousseau's Julie is sociological
>it is most amusing to hear writers talking of the soul of the woman, of her heart and its mysteries, of the psyche of the modern woman. It seems almost as if even an accoucheur would have to prove his capacity by the strength of his belief in the soul of women. Most women, at least, delight to hear discussions on their souls, although they know, so far as they can be said to know anything, that the whole thing is a swindle. The woman as the Sphinx! Never was a more ridiculous, a more audacious fraud perpetrated. Man is infinitely more mysterious, incomparably more complicated

>It is only necessary to look at the faces of women one passes in the streets. There is scarcely one whose expression could not at once be summed up. The register of woman's feelings and disposition is so terribly poor, whereas men's countenances can scarcely be read after long and earnest scrutiny.

What even is a 'henid'?

I'D LIKE TO BE
UNDER THE SEA

Apologize

Sex and Character actually seeks for real women empowerment

>>21651908
The person who hated himself the most had to be Nietzsche. His hatred of Wagner and of
asceticism, and his wish to switch allegiance to Bizet and Gottfried Keller, was merely a
hatred of the Wagnerian, the ascetic and totally non-idyllic person that he was himself.
Self-hate is certainly morally superior to self-love. Thus the insincerity is bad, with which
Nietzsche pretended to have achieved the transition (the “recovery” from Wagner, from his
“illness”) – this is not the only pose which Nietzsche affected in front of himself and
everyone else.46 Pascal, who certainly hated himself terribly, ranks high above Nietzsche in
this – moreover, he is never as superficial as Nietzsche can sometimes be. While Pascal
was able openly to declare as a fundamental principle, “le moi est haïsable”,47 (Pensées I, 9,
24), Nietzsche even denied this, his own hatred of himself, and – he hated himself so –
slandered it and disparaged it – of course only as a characteristic of Pascal. There is only
one passage where Zarathustra is sincere about this: in the glorious song, which is
absolutely to be understood as an ethical symbol, “Before Sunrise” (in Part III): “O, heaven
above me, pure.... What I want with all my will is to fly, to fly up into you! And whom did I
hate more than drifting clouds and all that stains you? And I hated even my own hatred
because it stained you. I loathe the drifting clouds, those stealthy great cats which prey on
what you and I have in common – the uncaring, unbounded Yes and Amen

>calls evil God's farts
>calls cripples evil
>calls cripples God's farts
in the case of Weininger, was it genius or insanity?

>>21243813
>Thus he becomes one and all; he has the law in him, and so he himself is the law, and no mere changing caprice. The desire is in him to be only the law, to be the law that is ihimself, without afterthought or forethought. This is the awful conclusion, he has no longer the sense that there can be duty for him. Nothing is superior to him, to the isolated absolute unity. But there are no alternatives for him; he must respond to his own categorical imperatives, absolutely, impartially. " Freedom," he cries (for instance, Wagner, or Schopenhauer), " rest, peace from the enemy; peace, not this endless striving " ; and he is terrified. Even in this wish for freedom there is cowardice; in the ignominious lament there is desertion as if he were too small for the fight. What is the use of it all, he cries to the universe ; and is at once ashamed, for he is demanding happiness, and that his own burden should rest on other shoulders. Kant's lonely man does not dance or laugh; he neither brawls nor makes merry; he feels no need to make a noise, because the universe is^so silent around him. To acquiesce in his loneliness is the splendid supremacy of the Kantian