rigorousintuition.ca

Hugh Manatee Wins wrote:http://www.rigorousintuition.ca/board2/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=24775&start=105

compared2what wrote:And I feel seriously that to concentrate so exclusively on the insidiously evil actions of a single group that's responsible for all the woes of the republic is always a dangerous thing. As I've written to Hugh, in slightly different words: Whether society learns to hate and fear the Demon Jew, The Demon Jihadist, or The Demon CIA....

compared2what wrote:Whether society learns to hate and fear the Demon Jew, The Demon Jihadist, or The Demon CIA, at the end of the day what they learn is to hate and fear as a society.

And that's never been good for anybody except fascists.

barracuda wrote:

Hugh Manatee Wins wrote:http://www.rigorousintuition.ca/board2/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=24775&start=105

compared2what wrote:And I feel seriously that to concentrate so exclusively on the insidiously evil actions of a single group that's responsible for all the woes of the republic is always a dangerous thing. As I've written to Hugh, in slightly different words: Whether society learns to hate and fear the Demon Jew, The Demon Jihadist, or The Demon CIA....

Might as well complete the quote:

compared2what wrote:Whether society learns to hate and fear the Demon Jew, The Demon Jihadist, or The Demon CIA, at the end of the day what they learn is to hate and fear as a society.

And that's never been good for anybody except fascists.

The Consul wrote:Tell me not how my lengendary hero slept with babes on a drunken boat
That night he promised to sing them to the Lord
Tell me not how my furious Commander built his fire
With the fuel of weeping mothers clenching infants to their breasts

Tell me not of my hero, how he lied of his deeds
How he raped and plundered innocent people in a simple land
How he cut off their fingers and ears, laughing, as trophies
Tell me only the lies I want to hear

Tell me only my great white world is still the purest of all pearls
Tell me what must be told, the truth and facts be damned
Be robust in your description of these grand delusions
Do it well enough that we will salute all the banners and flags of your deception

Lie to me you fucking traitors
Or we will burn this place back to the coal ash of the savage unknown

slomo wrote:The fundamental mistake made on this board (and in my personal career decisions) is accepting that human beings are moved to action by rational discourse, by understanding the meaning of words and their true relationships with each other. That is not the case at all. Most people (probably even myself) are moved by desire, what their desire tells them to believe, and by what the superior force tells them about their desires and beliefs through the power of the language they know how to control.

LilyPatToo wrote:Desire doesn't always lead to inattention or blindness, but that's a wonderful distillation of an amorphous, frustrated idea that's haunted me for the past 25 years or so. To it I would add denial as a prime mover in most people's thinking. I see that "superior force" invoking it often these days. And Bruce, I've pretty much stopped trying to penetrate the general blindness/deafness too. Now and then I slip and get into an argument when someone says something so dumb that it's like a slap in the face of Reality, but mostly those conversations end badly for me. Or for the relationship. And relationships are important.

At this point, I seem to have reached a point where simply acquiring accurate information about the true nature of the world in which we live is an end in and of itself. Knowledge matters more to me than it used to and I deeply appreciate the chance to interact with you other rabbit hole denizens here. It still hurts like Hell when someone close to me expresses denial around things that have actually happened to me, but I think I handle it better now than I used to. I needed to learn about desire and denial and their effect on comprehension. And I think it was here that I followed a link to George Lakoff's writings on cognitive framing and metaphors which has helped me to deal with The Right with less danger of bringing on a fatal stroke...always a good thing, especially in election years.

LilyPat

MacCruiskeen wrote:Minds are changed by rational argument all the time. This is why most people now believe that the earth goes round the sun, that continents drift, that living creatures evolve, and that surgeons should wash their hands. Just for instance.

Ben D wrote:But beyond the copy and paste of graphs here, the WSJ opinion piece itself is solid evidence that AGW accelerated global warming is not happening.

Project Willow wrote:…outside of certain scenarios it's very difficult to measure the impact of your actions. You just never know until for one odd reason or another somehow an anecdote gets back to you. There are a lot of silent watchers here. If you're expressing concern over a topic that the rest of society has sidelined, there's probably someone reading who feels a little more validated and less isolated. If you're contributing knowledge and insight about important topics, or humor or creativity or just about anything and doing so in a thoughtful manner, you're doing good.

That's my take anyway.

crikkett wrote:…Rigorous Intuition isn't just anyone's conspiracy theory bulletin board. This is highbrow and therefore, much more difficult to dismiss. I can point to the Nuclear Meltdown Watch, and the Egypt, Wall Street and Occupy threads as the best compilation of news on those topics that I have found.…

Simulist wrote:

"What kind of evidence?" How about starting with some evidence. Any would be nice.

The Consul wrote:You might go off the side of the road and be trapped under your car when it rolls. The trucker who pulls over and cuts you out of your seat belt and drags you out of the windshield before the flames spread might hate your guts if he knew what was in your mind. But he isn't thinking about that when he pulls over. This is essential. All the rigamarole about god and sex and country and money has clouded the air between us. We are one, really, whether we know it like MLK or can't quite conceive of it like Eichmann (or maybe he did in the most perverse way imaginable). The hell of one's life can be measured sometimes by how often they have to swallow their own hate in a single day. I know I have. In someways it's easier to understand than love because there is nothing sentimental about it. Rationality and reason are over rated. You can't reason with someone who's seeing red unless you know them. You can't stop some one from hating by proving how wrong they are. Who the fuck do we think we are, anyway? Your facts and truth mean nothing to some people. So what is the other way? Gather together as an out - in group and smarmilly chortel about what a bunch of ignorant pig weenies thos people are?

We cop to more compassion than we have the heart to excercise. A great deal of fear and terror has made ALL of us what we are. And unless you grew up in the woods without a television or any books and learned the communal sonics of meadowlarks and used that as a spiritual blueprint for your understanding of nature and the universe, brothers and sisters, you are just another fleck of gravel in the asphalt, no matter how small, or big or sharp and sparkly you might be. Like my old man said once it isn't them it's us.

He knelt before a tank with a rosary in his hand with the mayor of the village in France begging that they not destroy the entry arch to the town which was built by Charlemagne. Who hates you now? Who's the slave, who's the master? How many tanks have you stopped today, how many days did you spend behind wire for trying?

How long has it been since you have seen yourself in your brother's eyes? The love that once rose up around you like a mist - has it really disappeared, or have the demons blinded you? Imagine your own death as much as you can. Our fate is sealed. None of us have the slightest fucking clue no matter how much we can pack in our brains our how well we turn a phrase on a gray blue blog. I am collapsing under my own cynicism, what were Jack Spicer's last words?...."my vocabulary did this to me..." Political movements and historical narratives will not uncover the beauty we hope to rediscover and for most here I doubt waxen fumed sundays between priest and choir would either. Im all upside down trying to kiss the stone, but it is floating out into space. I feel the note that never ends you know. I feel it always. My greatest comfort is knowing it will not end with me. Truly, anyone with a heart knows, there is no time to waste on hate.

Nordic wrote:To say "the game is rigged" isn't even an accurate thing to say anymore, because its not even a game now. Its a magic trick.

JackRiddler wrote:Simplistic false equivalence that makes you feel smarter than the patsy majority is part of the magic trick.

The Consul wrote:Within the cave Platonic shadows of the ancient brain that was enwebbed with more than one kind of human cortex, different emerging strains of consciousness. Were they dancing yet around the flames, on the brink of discovering shadow art and making sacrifices to the shadow demon? Six hundred generations preceding Wallace Stevens carrying the strain straight to the hand between the candle and the wall/grows large against the wall.

The magic of no knowledge seeking the tree of life which in that moment was the seal who’s blood dripped on the charcoal and became part of the painting, the seal in death, quick grace in her element, the flight of the sea alive in me, the seal as provider, dripping out part of itself like Pollack drunk and cut by glass passing out on the platform above the cave of his canvass, which receives the broken glass, the blood, the wine. Blood and fat in every line with the fallen trees of the holy fire.

An ancient stain holds a mysterious secret that here in the time of the Helix Seal we may not have enough earth soul left to ask the right question. For here we walk in a world that is covered in a crust of bone dust and powdered stars. Paint on. Let life live anew in other eyes through what we leave on this our stone. [REFER.]

slomo wrote:…it's also actually kind of insulting to approach somebody who has invested ten or more years of their life - often extremely difficult years - trying to understand some phenomenon and suggest to them that somebody who spent one or two orders of magnitude less effort on the subject knows more than they do.

This is one of the things that is wrong with modern-day America: the idea that you can achieve anything of value (including deep understanding and/or spiritual wisdom) without having to work very hard.

And also for the record: this is not an issue of intelligence, it's an issue of effort expended. Most "intelligent" and/or "talented" people are simply people who are curious about something and have worked very hard to satisfy their curiosity. [REFER.]

• WORD

The Consul wrote:I think of Oskar Werner in "The Shoes of the Fisherman." Those eyes that seem to recognize the wealth of human sorrow, those lips that find courage in pity, the countenance of face beholding the arc of human existence in all its glorious terpitude. I think of a boy caught up by the river that roared him with millions of other boys to the steel warm bossom of Der Fuhrer, come to murder the Fatherland.

I dig my clay from the garden of a dreaming child. There is no one I can hurt, there is no one I can't help. Chagal made my heart right before he died, and put it in a little box and whispered to me as the flood broke all words are prayers, colors are the genius of the soul longing to love the world. With the moon we have, we might be the only ones who can see them.

Kings and popes, do they ever shed but tears of rage? Bondage by gold and the art of high deceit. Ashen crosses drawn on our heads, silk ribboned candles crossed at our throat, Jesus stripped down to the ninety six wounds, and every week out go the boxes, one by one, into the hearses that roll as silent as a pressed leaves past the dogs who stand to smell the dead. I dig my clay from the garden of a sleeping child where there are no Fuhrers and there are no popes.

I dig my clay from the garden of a sleeping child
where everything is holy and there are no gods

wintler2 wrote:I think 50,000 slaves removing Virginian mountaintops to make coal for aviation fuel for the Whitehouses last helicopter gunship is a distinct probability.

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