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  #51701  
Old 04-22-2018, 02:34 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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If Lessans is right, the explosion of a Supernovae can be so huge that that we would be able to see it with the naked eye, or with a telescope as it is happening. You already knew what I was going to say Spacemonkey. We've been over this a thousand times. Why harp on it if you're positive Lessans was wrong? Let it go.
Yes, the one in 1572 was visible with the naked eye. But the X-ray images taken today match the visible-light images exactly, so either X-rays arrive instantly too or we don't see in real time. The End.
I don't see where that's a problem.
Of course it isn't a problem, because your silly ideas are just wrong. But are you changing the story again and now X-rays arrive instantly (wherever) too?
The minute you use the word "arrive", you're on the wrong tack. This is not about arrival or travel time. That was not Lessans' disputation. X-rays travel and so does light, but this has no relation to how the EYES function, which, if true, does not reinvent physics. You still don't even get the concept.
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  #51702  
Old 04-22-2018, 02:41 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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Why did my son's dog (who is a smart breed) not recognize him even though she went crazy when she smelled him?
Do you "go crazy" when you see a photograph of a loved-one? No? Then, by your own bizarre "logic," you can't recognize a photograph of a loved-one.
I would have a reaction to a photograph if I were missing a loved one. If this dog could recognize his owner from a photograph, don't you think he would show some sort of recognition considering how excited he was to recognize him after sniffing him? You want me to be wrong, so much so, that you are losing your objectivity.

Dog Reunited with Owner Slowly Recognizes Dad After Years in Shelter | The Dodo - YouTube
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  #51703  
Old 04-22-2018, 02:45 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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You have no idea what his first discovery is even about. What are the three forms of first blow Chuck?
peacegirl, what is the Butt Stuff Injunction? Can you explain the Boohog Corollary?

Let's just take a shortcut here: Your father's discovered what authors have discovered since Gilgamesh. The written word is a powerful tool to help us be.

Once you pare away the veneer of incoherent nonsense babble, the Authentic Text is, at its core, a catalogue of the insecurities of a lower-middle class to middle class mediocrity living in mid-century America. It recites his various anxieties (educational, financial, sexual, etc.) and imagines a new world - a Golden Age - in which each of them is resolved. Not by dint of personal improvement, but rather by the global embrace of a worldview that, by its nature, exalts the Author and normalizes those very things at the root of the anxiety. It is an expression of a fantasy world through which the Author is elevated in the esteem of others, not only for "wisdom" the pseudophilosophical ramblings that constitute a weak glue to bind this ball of anxieties together, but also by abolition of the very norms that he perceives to deprive him of the esteem that he deserves. In the Golden Age, the Author will be accorded the same respect for which he so clearly envies Will Durant, whose bizarrely outsized presence looms so consistently large. In the Golden Age, mismatched libido will simply cease to be a problem. In the Golden Age, no one will judge him for his lack of education - a sensitivity the peculiar acuteness of which is singularly clear. In the Golden Age, teenaged boys will not face that same (completely ordinary) awkward fumbling and stinging rejection. And so on and so on.

In brief, the Authentic Text imagines a Golden Age wherein the Author is perceived by others as he wishes to be perceived in the present. He is more than the pool pro, and is also praised as a thinker, relieved of financial pressures, and freely pursues the sexual life that his id persistently demands. He imagines the life in which he has achieved those goals that reality has frustrated.

This is perfectly healthy and normal. All socialized humans grapple with their own insecurities, each in his or her own way, and much very fine literature has resulted from precisely this. The Authentic Text was the Author's way of relieving these internal pressures with the tools at his disposal. Incidentally, that is why there are so many books. He continued to write them because the underlying anxieties are perennial and evasive of resolution. (Indeed, some anxieties echo down the generations peacegirl, as from time to time you are yourself a pitiable devisee of certain of them.) Though it is wrapped in a thin veil of hackneyed chatter that is the Author's best effort to simulate academic writing - or at least Will Durant's writing - the Authentic Text is nothing more than the Author's mechanism for coping with the symptoms of existence.
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You are trying to make my compilation look phony, but it isn't. Adding a few sentences, or changing a word that does not alter the meaning of the concept, is trivial. It has no bearing on the validity of his discoveries. My alterations do not contaminate the true meaning of the book, unlike your ridiculous interpretation based on hot air. You are working overtime to hurt Lessans' 30 year work. But you won't be able to because truth always wins in the long run. :yup:
Well, not quite. I'm not working to hurt Lessans' work. Neither do I care how you mutilate it and carve it up to try to sell it, peacegirl. Your Corrupted Text is a way for you to mediate your relationship with your father. That is between you and your dad.

So the question remains, peacegirl: why would I go to the trouble of reading what Lessans actually wrote?
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  #51704  
Old 04-22-2018, 02:53 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Wow, peacegirl, you were editing your post while I was typing, and your edited post is on point:
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Would you laugh at any well-known philosopher before studying the actual text? No, you wouldn't. You are doing this because you believe this book doesn't fall into that category, so you justify the laughter.
That is exactly what I was referring to.

So why would I go to the trouble of obtaining and reading what Lessans actually wrote?
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  #51705  
Old 04-22-2018, 04:49 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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The minute you use the word "arrive", you're on the wrong tack. This is not about arrival or travel time. That was not Lessans' disputation. X-rays travel and so does light, but this has no relation to how the EYES function, which, if true, does not reinvent physics. You still don't even get the concept.
Either we get X-ray images in real time too or we don't get anything in real time. What about this do you not understand?
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  #51706  
Old 04-22-2018, 07:02 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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peacegirl, what is the Butt Stuff Injunction? Can you explain the Boohog Corollary?

Let's just take a shortcut here: Your father's discovered what authors have discovered since Gilgamesh. The written word is a powerful tool to help us be.

Once you pare away the veneer of incoherent nonsense babble, the Authentic Text is, at its core, a catalogue of the insecurities of a lower-middle class to middle class mediocrity living in mid-century America. It recites his various anxieties (educational, financial, sexual, etc.) and imagines a new world - a Golden Age - in which each of them is resolved. Not by dint of personal improvement, but rather by the global embrace of a worldview that, by its nature, exalts the Author and normalizes those very things at the root of the anxiety. It is an expression of a fantasy world through which the Author is elevated in the esteem of others, not only for "wisdom" the pseudophilosophical ramblings that constitute a weak glue to bind this ball of anxieties together, but also by abolition of the very norms that he perceives to deprive him of the esteem that he deserves. In the Golden Age, the Author will be accorded the same respect for which he so clearly envies Will Durant, whose bizarrely outsized presence looms so consistently large. In the Golden Age, mismatched libido will simply cease to be a problem. In the Golden Age, no one will judge him for his lack of education - a sensitivity the peculiar acuteness of which is singularly clear. In the Golden Age, teenaged boys will not face that same (completely ordinary) awkward fumbling and stinging rejection. And so on and so on.

In brief, the Authentic Text imagines a Golden Age wherein the Author is perceived by others as he wishes to be perceived in the present. He is more than the pool pro, and is also praised as a thinker, relieved of financial pressures, and freely pursues the sexual life that his id persistently demands. He imagines the life in which he has achieved those goals that reality has frustrated.

This is perfectly healthy and normal. All socialized humans grapple with their own insecurities, each in his or her own way, and much very fine literature has resulted from precisely this. The Authentic Text was the Author's way of relieving these internal pressures with the tools at his disposal. Incidentally, that is why there are so many books. He continued to write them because the underlying anxieties are perennial and evasive of resolution. (Indeed, some anxieties echo down the generations peacegirl, as from time to time you are yourself a pitiable devisee of certain of them.) Though it is wrapped in a thin veil of hackneyed chatter that is the Author's best effort to simulate academic writing - or at least Will Durant's writing - the Authentic Text is nothing more than the Author's mechanism for coping with the symptoms of existence.
I think this is really an outstanding analysis Chuck, and, stepping out of role, I’m quite serious about this. You truly are the True Steward of the Authentic Text. #trueStewardship :1thumbup:

Yes, this is what the book is about, thematically and in its substance. And it has literary merit — but only the Authentic Text, and NOT the corrupted version.

With the sex scenes restored and all of peacegirl’s turgid nonsense stripped out, the book reminds me, as I’ve noted before, of the works of Henry Miller — which are not only to this day best-sellers, but considered literary masterpieces and precursors to the works of Kerouac and the beats, among others.

Consider a book like Tropic of Cancer, which I recently took the time to reread after many years, and I was delighted to discover that it was just as good as I remembered it, and maybe even better. But what’s it really all about? A middle-aged man, an utter non-entity, struggling to cope with his inner demons in an an indifferent and even hostile world. The work is an extended literary mid-life crisis.

A middle-aged man runs away to Paris, the way someone in his early twenties might flee his paralyzingly banal and soul-crushing hometown and make the cross-country trip to San Francisco (as I did). Because he is middle-aged, though, Miller is making one last desperate stab to claim autonomy with his time running out, his own mortality very much an issue (as it is not with younger people) and acutely conscious of the “adumbrations of nothingness,” as the Japanese writer Mishima (of whom Miller was a fan) put it. Miller’s work is a book-length exercise in exorcizing his demons, resolving his anxieties, and bucking up his own inconsequential stature by demonizing his native land, the “black curse” of America.

In Paris he runs around with his good-for-nothing fellow expatriate pals from brothel to brothel or they have “cunts,” as they are persistently called, up to their seedy working-man’s hotel rooms, squalid and filled with bedbugs. In one telling scene Henry is trying to help one of his pals who is bent over a “cunt” but he either can’t get it up or can’t get it in or some such. Even if Miller did not consciously intend it, the scene is a metaphor for the inevitable arrival of impotence followed by death, or perhaps more precisely impotence as death, an idea that curiously circles back on the thesis that the opposite of impotence, orgasm, is the “little death” — we “destroyed” each other in bed, Hemingway’s dying protagonist in Snows of Kilimanjaro tells his wife. Everything is sex, Miller writes at one point, but everything is really sex and death.

Unlike Lessans, Miller does not posit a coming Golden Age in which he is the center of everything, but rather he brings the external world down to his own level, which pretty much comes to the same thing. Miller insisted his writings were devoid of ego, because he told funny stories on himself that most people would not do, out of shame; but as Gore Vidal noted, Miller’s work is nothing but Ego — no matter what Miller does, no matter how shameful conventional morality would deem his behavior, it’s all good because Miller did it!

In one scene, Miller takes a pious Hindu boy, a “very religious” young man visiting from India, to a Paris brothel. There, the boy makes the faux pas of taking a dump in a bidet. :lol: All hell breaks loose, of course, but later, Miller imagines the whole world reduced to this: a waiter produces a silver tray, lifts the lid, and on the tray are two pieces of shit. This, he assays, is the world. So if you live in Miller’s Shit Age or Lessans’ Golden Age, everyone will be at least as good as anyone else; and one’s existential anxieties are allayed.

Miller’s sword and shield against the world is his art, as it was for Lessans. What he did — fusing fiction with autobiography, and leavening this alloy with a curious brew of fantasy, surrealism, and philosophy or perhaps more accurately pseudo-philosophy — was not exactly new, as some critics have maintained it was. Joyce did it, and better, in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses; the Marquis de Sade did it, others have done it, with the autobiographical and the picaresque novel boasting a long literary thread stretching back through history. But Miller like all great artists had a unique voice.

During the course of this long thread, I have long thought — and my suspicions were confirmed when you, Chuck, brought the Authentic Text to light — that Lessans was a genius (though not in the way that peacegirl imagines).

This, of course, is at total variance with peacegirl’s claim that I “resent” Lessans or am “vindictive” toward him, :lol: which is just pure projection on her part — it is she who resents her father, not I. If I had met the author of the Ur-penis and Harry’s sexcapades and whatnot I’m sure I would have liked him a lot. He was a witty guy, not like his dour, rigidified and fanatical scold of a daughter.

Like Miller, Lessans’ genius consists in imaginatively reconstructing the world, via the art of writing, to make it more suitable, more livable, more benign. I do this myself — I’m a fiction writer, and I’ve been published. I write to kill time, before time kills me. In doing so I reshape the meaningless and frequently malign chaos of the world, especially in the Trump era, to try to repair the psychic damage that the world has inflicted on me. To see how inventively Lessans does this, consider the mysterious Chapter 10 that peacegirl withheld from us, but which someone managed to dig up anyway.

Lessans believes we are all destined to live again and again — though this is not reincarnation! No “soul” or anything like it passes from one incarnation to the next; one’s perspective merely changes. My “I” becomes a different “I”. This is not dissimilar to older conception of death and rebirth in the mystic Eastern tradition; and it is definitely of a piece with contemporary work on the subject by Tom Clark and Wayne Stewart. (When I pointed this out to peacegirl in an effort to show her that Lessans was not alone in his thinking, she threw a great big hissy fit for reasons that remain obscure.)

This is one way that Lessans deals with Mishima’s “adumbrations of nothingness.” Ordinary people can’t come up with stuff like this — they are left to their own banal devices in dealing with their own inevitable existential crises: they respond by watching television, becoming sports fanatics, voting for Donald Trump, drinking their sorrows away, numbing themselves with opioids, etc. But like Miller, Lessans was not an ordinary man.

Even the light and sight stuff has a hidden point, regardless of the silliness of the scientific claims. (It must be noted that in the Authentic Text, Lessans did NOT claim that we see the light from the sun even before it arrives on earth; quite to the contrary, he maintained that we will not see the sun until eight minutes after it is turned on. Peacegirl changed this passage, either out of malice or ignorance or both, and since then has spent an ungodly amount of time defending a strawman of her father’s original position.) To me, what Lessans is driving at here is that we all live in the present; NOW is all we have; the past and future are fictions. Who else has taught this? Buddhists.

Nor is the free will/determinism stuff really new, but it’s illuminating. Lessans is clearly a compatibilist, peacegirl’s howling to the contrary notwithstanding; and in positing a blame-free and less opprobrious world once free will is rejected, Lessans is comfortably at home with many contemporary philosophers, including Cornell’s Derk Pereboom.

The imaginative reconstruction of the world can also be done collaboratively and collectively, among individuals who lack the personal genius of people like Miller and Lessans. This is done through rumor, hearsay, collective improvisation and, in the modern world, social media and memes. Even before the Internet, Ufologists collectively reconstructed the dreary quotidian world into one magically infested by extraterrestrials either malign or benign, but like god or gods always vitally interested in humans, thus providing a balm to the Copernican mediocrity principle and to our fundamental meaninglessness. Here are UFOS as psychic Jungian projections, not literally real by mythopoetically real, which is arguably the most important “reality” of all: Art is a lie that tells the truth, Picasso said. Such imaginative reconstructions of reality can be good or bad; they bring us conspiracy theories of the wildest sorts, Flat Earth Societies and the alt-right. But they all, good or bad, speak to the human longing to beat back psychic entropy and fashion oases of order in the maelstroms of chaos.

Chuck, do you actually own the copyright to the Authentic Text? Since I co-own small nascent publishing enterprise, I might consider publishing the Authentic Text, after consulting with my partner. By “Authentic Text” I assume that text in which all the sex scenes are intact and which is devoid of peacegirl’s malefic interpolations, emendations and excisions. Naturally the text would still require heavy editing (without changing any meanings), a service that I would be happy to perform.
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  #51707  
Old 04-22-2018, 07:31 PM
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David, that is really quite beautiful and perceptive, and would not be out of place in the foreword to a new edition. I agree in all sincerity that the Authentic Text itself has substantial literary merit.

I hope it is abundantly clear to everyone that my use of the terms "Authentic Text" and "Corrupted Text" is not merely a convenient rhetorical device, though it certainly is that. No, I think it quite accurate - astute, even.

The aforesaid literary merit which David has just richly contextualized for us is plain on the face of the Authentic Text. That anxiety catalog is the beating heart of the Authentic Text, and its pulse animates every page and compels the reader forward. The bare truth of it inheres in the authenticity of those anxieties that are common to us all, in some form or other. The manifest urgency is the backbone on which the thing moves, carrying along the reader, who, for the joy of the good company, forgives occasionally ponderous or inartful prose. It is authentic.

Such charms are absent from the Corrupted Text. It is a homogenized slurry. The backbone of the Authentic Text is broken. It has no pulse and its rotten corpse is almost unrecognizable. The reader stands aloof. It did not survive the "compilation."
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Chuck, do you actually own the copyright to the Authentic Text? Since I co-own small nascent publishing enterprise, I might consider publishing the Authentic Text, after consulting with my partner. By “Authentic Text” I assume that text in which all the sex scenes are intact and which is devoid of peacegirl’s malefic interpolations, emendations and excisions. Naturally the text would still require heavy editing (without changing any meanings), a service that I would be happy to perform.
The 1962 edition (Inception of the Golden Age, whence Harry, Mary and Becky) is, to the best of my knowledge and upon a reasonably diligent search no longer subject to copyright protection (due to non-renewal of copyright in accordance with then-current legislation) and in the public domain. Obviously any copyright to any subsequent edition would not extend to the text itself, but would extend to new creative work contained in such edition, e.g. annotations, commentary, and analyses. I suspect that certain other texts are similarly situated. Others (including the 1972 "juicy cunt" edition) remain, as far as I can tell, subject to copyright protection.

I would be delighted to share this 1962 text with you and contribute however I can should this endeavor be of interest to you and your partner.
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  #51708  
Old 04-22-2018, 08:13 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

The extraordinary high-quality analysis we've received from Chuck and David (free of charge, naturally) renders fully accessible new and far deeper understandings of incidents such as Lessans gathering the family to watch while he burned thousand of his printed books in the fireplace and why, with his loved ones gathered bedside, he chose "My day will come" as his final words.

Thank you, gentlemen. :hatsoff:
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  #51709  
Old 04-22-2018, 08:22 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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You have no idea what his first discovery is even about. What are the three forms of first blow Chuck?
peacegirl, what is the Butt Stuff Injunction? Can you explain the Boohog Corollary?

Let's just take a shortcut here: Your father's discovered what authors have discovered since Gilgamesh. The written word is a powerful tool to help us be.

Once you pare away the veneer of incoherent nonsense babble, the Authentic Text is, at its core, a catalogue of the insecurities of a lower-middle class to middle class mediocrity living in mid-century America. It recites his various anxieties (educational, financial, sexual, etc.) and imagines a new world - a Golden Age - in which each of them is resolved. Not by dint of personal improvement, but rather by the global embrace of a worldview that, by its nature, exalts the Author and normalizes those very things at the root of the anxiety. It is an expression of a fantasy world through which the Author is elevated in the esteem of others, not only for "wisdom" the pseudophilosophical ramblings that constitute a weak glue to bind this ball of anxieties together, but also by abolition of the very norms that he perceives to deprive him of the esteem that he deserves. In the Golden Age, the Author will be accorded the same respect for which he so clearly envies Will Durant, whose bizarrely outsized presence looms so consistently large. In the Golden Age, mismatched libido will simply cease to be a problem. In the Golden Age, no one will judge him for his lack of education - a sensitivity the peculiar acuteness of which is singularly clear. In the Golden Age, teenaged boys will not face that same (completely ordinary) awkward fumbling and stinging rejection. And so on and so on.

In brief, the Authentic Text imagines a Golden Age wherein the Author is perceived by others as he wishes to be perceived in the present. He is more than the pool pro, and is also praised as a thinker, relieved of financial pressures, and freely pursues the sexual life that his id persistently demands. He imagines the life in which he has achieved those goals that reality has frustrated.

This is perfectly healthy and normal. All socialized humans grapple with their own insecurities, each in his or her own way, and much very fine literature has resulted from precisely this. The Authentic Text was the Author's way of relieving these internal pressures with the tools at his disposal. Incidentally, that is why there are so many books. He continued to write them because the underlying anxieties are perennial and evasive of resolution. (Indeed, some anxieties echo down the generations peacegirl, as from time to time you are yourself a pitiable devisee of certain of them.) Though it is wrapped in a thin veil of hackneyed chatter that is the Author's best effort to simulate academic writing - or at least Will Durant's writing - the Authentic Text is nothing more than the Author's mechanism for coping with the symptoms of existence.
Quote:
You are trying to make my compilation look phony, but it isn't. Adding a few sentences, or changing a word that does not alter the meaning of the concept, is trivial. It has no bearing on the validity of his discoveries. My alterations do not contaminate the true meaning of the book, unlike your ridiculous interpretation based on hot air. You are working overtime to hurt Lessans' 30 year work. But you won't be able to because truth always wins in the long run. :yup:
Well, not quite. I'm not working to hurt Lessans' work. Neither do I care how you mutilate it and carve it up to try to sell it, peacegirl. Your Corrupted Text is a way for you to mediate your relationship with your father. That is between you and your dad.

So the question remains, peacegirl: why would I go to the trouble of reading what Lessans actually wrote?
None of what you wrote is true. It's a complete fabrication. He was none of the things that you're attributing to him. There is no resemblance whatsoever! This is all made up crap! I asked you one question and you can't even answer it which shows me you have no comprehension of anything related to this book. What are the three forms of the first blow Chuck? The lengths you have gone to create an illusion of who this man was is likely a projection of your own unmet needs and insecurities. Your analysis is so funny to me that it's making me laugh out loud! :lol:
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  #51710  
Old 04-22-2018, 08:40 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

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I'm actually intrigued at the extent you have gone to create an illusion of who this man was. What's it to you Chuck? I don't get it.
Finally, there is the question! peacegirl, you seem to think it has something to do with the Authentic Text or you Corrupted Text, or the claims advanced therein. It does not. I sincerely find the Authentic Text to be of literary quality, along the lines set forth above, and I was truly surprised to find that to be the case.

But why even bother, right?

Well, peacegirl, you say many ignorant things. Much of it is rather banal ignorance, about dog eyes and the speed of light and GPS, and other things that you know literally nothing about. Your ignorance about those things is only very entertaining. Consider, for example, the hilarious contortions you undertake to prize made-up "astute observations" over the science you claim to seek, or your mindless, stream-of-consciousness jabbering about closed systems and pixels and photons at the brain. That is all very funny, but no one cares whether or not you actually believe it. It is nonsense, but harmless nonsense. The fun is in seeing what goofiness you come up with next.

But you also spew ignorant things that are quite wicked. And were you not so obviously ignorant, and should anyone make the mistake of listening to you, it would increase the amount of suffering in the world. I believe that type of ignorance is evil and repugnant and must be opposed wherever we find it.

And so I try to oppose it and you. I determined that while facts are useful, attempting to educate you was rather pointless because you are quite stupid. So I decided to investigate that first species of merely entertaining ignorance further. It is clear from this thread that you hold your Corrupted Text as an article of faith, in a tiny and insular cult of which you are the sole member.

How, then, to attack that faith? While it can be entertaining, it is pointless to refute faith items with actual fact. As in any revealed religion, the faithful isolate faith from any sort of critical analysis. It is the revealed truth, it is the word of God, it is astute observation, etc. etc. This is true in every revealed faith in the world. So facts are not the answer.

No - the best way to attack a faith is to tear it from the inside. Why argue that a religion is false when it is much more upsetting to believers to argue that they are heretics. Do not attack the text; attack the believer!

How many wars have been fought for such things? How many schisms carve up faith groups, and breed enmity between them? Yes, that is the key! It doesn't do simply to reject the faith - much better to grasp it, take it away from the believer, and make it one's own to do with what one will.

So I was delighted to find that your Corrupted Text was nothing more than your distortionary mutilation of the Authentic Text. I stepped into the vast chasm between what Seymour Lessans wrote and what you hawk for lucre on the Internet, and occupied it as the True Steward of the Authentic Text. As hilarious as your Corrupted Text is, it is much, much more entertaining to force you to defend not only what your idiot Corrupted Text says, but also your own legitimacy to offer such defenses. You often say very stupid and amusing things, and occasionally have hilariously hysterical shitfits that are immensely gratifying to watch. Like when you flipped out because I posted the tapes that you mutilated. :lol:

It is simply an added bonus that the Authentic Text is also extremely entertaining.

By the way, peacegirl: this has been completely obvious to everyone else in this thread.
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  #51711  
Old 04-22-2018, 08:45 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Quote:
Originally Posted by davidm View Post
Quote:
Originally Posted by ChuckF View Post
peacegirl, what is the Butt Stuff Injunction? Can you explain the Boohog Corollary?

Let's just take a shortcut here: Your father's discovered what authors have discovered since Gilgamesh. The written word is a powerful tool to help us be.

Once you pare away the veneer of incoherent nonsense babble, the Authentic Text is, at its core, a catalogue of the insecurities of a lower-middle class to middle class mediocrity living in mid-century America. It recites his various anxieties (educational, financial, sexual, etc.) and imagines a new world - a Golden Age - in which each of them is resolved. Not by dint of personal improvement, but rather by the global embrace of a worldview that, by its nature, exalts the Author and normalizes those very things at the root of the anxiety. It is an expression of a fantasy world through which the Author is elevated in the esteem of others, not only for "wisdom" the pseudophilosophical ramblings that constitute a weak glue to bind this ball of anxieties together, but also by abolition of the very norms that he perceives to deprive him of the esteem that he deserves. In the Golden Age, the Author will be accorded the same respect for which he so clearly envies Will Durant, whose bizarrely outsized presence looms so consistently large. In the Golden Age, mismatched libido will simply cease to be a problem. In the Golden Age, no one will judge him for his lack of education - a sensitivity the peculiar acuteness of which is singularly clear. In the Golden Age, teenaged boys will not face that same (completely ordinary) awkward fumbling and stinging rejection. And so on and so on.

In brief, the Authentic Text imagines a Golden Age wherein the Author is perceived by others as he wishes to be perceived in the present. He is more than the pool pro, and is also praised as a thinker, relieved of financial pressures, and freely pursues the sexual life that his id persistently demands. He imagines the life in which he has achieved those goals that reality has frustrated.

This is perfectly healthy and normal. All socialized humans grapple with their own insecurities, each in his or her own way, and much very fine literature has resulted from precisely this. The Authentic Text was the Author's way of relieving these internal pressures with the tools at his disposal. Incidentally, that is why there are so many books. He continued to write them because the underlying anxieties are perennial and evasive of resolution. (Indeed, some anxieties echo down the generations peacegirl, as from time to time you are yourself a pitiable devisee of certain of them.) Though it is wrapped in a thin veil of hackneyed chatter that is the Author's best effort to simulate academic writing - or at least Will Durant's writing - the Authentic Text is nothing more than the Author's mechanism for coping with the symptoms of existence.
I think this is really an outstanding analysis Chuck, and, stepping out of role, I’m quite serious about this. You truly are the True Steward of the Authentic Text. #trueStewardship :1thumbup:

Yes, this is what the book is about, thematically and in its substance. And it has literary merit — but only the Authentic Text, and NOT the corrupted version.

With the sex scenes restored and all of peacegirl’s turgid nonsense stripped out, the book reminds me, as I’ve noted before, of the works of Henry Miller — which are not only to this day best-sellers, but considered literary masterpieces and precursors to the works of Kerouac and the beats, among others.

Consider a book like Tropic of Cancer, which I recently took the time to reread after many years, and I was delighted to discover that it was just as good as I remembered it, and maybe even better. But what’s it really all about? A middle-aged man, an utter non-entity, struggling to cope with his inner demons in an an indifferent and even hostile world. The work is an extended literary mid-life crisis.

A middle-aged man runs away to Paris, the way someone in his early twenties might flee his paralyzingly banal and soul-crushing hometown and make the cross-country trip to San Francisco (as I did). Because he is middle-aged, though, Miller is making one last desperate stab to claim autonomy with his time running out, his own mortality very much an issue (as it is not with younger people) and acutely conscious of the “adumbrations of nothingness,” as the Japanese writer Mishima (of whom Miller was a fan) put it. Miller’s work is a book-length exercise in exorcizing his demons, resolving his anxieties, and bucking up his own inconsequential stature by demonizing his native land, the “black curse” of America.

In Paris he runs around with his good-for-nothing fellow expatriate pals from brothel to brothel or they have “cunts,” as they are persistently called, up to their seedy working-man’s hotel rooms, squalid and filled with bedbugs. In one telling scene Henry is trying to help one of his pals who is bent over a “cunt” but he either can’t get it up or can’t get it in or some such. Even if Miller did not consciously intend it, the scene is a metaphor for the inevitable arrival of impotence followed by death, or perhaps more precisely impotence as death, an idea that curiously circles back on the thesis that the opposite of impotence, orgasm, is the “little death” — we “destroyed” each other in bed, Hemingway’s dying protagonist in Snows of Kilimanjaro tells his wife. Everything is sex, Miller writes at one point, but everything is really sex and death.

Unlike Lessans, Miller does not posit a coming Golden Age in which he is the center of everything, but rather he brings the external world down to his own level, which pretty much comes to the same thing. Miller insisted his writings were devoid of ego, because he told funny stories on himself that most people would not do, out of shame; but as Gore Vidal noted, Miller’s work is nothing but Ego — no matter what Miller does, no matter how shameful conventional morality would deem his behavior, it’s all good because Miller did it!

In one scene, Miller takes a pious Hindu boy, a “very religious” young man visiting from India, to a Paris brothel. There, the boy makes the faux pas of taking a dump in a bidet. :lol: All hell breaks loose, of course, but later, Miller imagines the whole world reduced to this: a waiter produces a silver tray, lifts the lid, and on the tray are two pieces of shit. This, he assays, is the world. So if you live in Miller’s Shit Age or Lessans’ Golden Age, everyone will be at least as good as anyone else; and one’s existential anxieties are allayed.

Miller’s sword and shield against the world is his art, as it was for Lessans. What he did — fusing fiction with autobiography, and leavening this alloy with a curious brew of fantasy, surrealism, and philosophy or perhaps more accurately pseudo-philosophy — was not exactly new, as some critics have maintained it was. Joyce did it, and better, in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses; the Marquis de Sade did it, others have done it, with the autobiographical and the picaresque novel boasting a long literary thread stretching back through history. But Miller like all great artists had a unique voice.

During the course of this long thread, I have long thought — and my suspicions were confirmed when you, Chuck, brought the Authentic Text to light — that Lessans was a genius (though not in the way that peacegirl imagines).

This, of course, is at total variance with peacegirl’s claim that I “resent” Lessans or am “vindictive” toward him, :lol: which is just pure projection on her part — it is she who resents her father, not I. If I had met the author of the Ur-penis and Harry’s sexcapades and whatnot I’m sure I would have liked him a lot. He was a witty guy, not like his dour, rigidified and fanatical scold of a daughter.

Like Miller, Lessans’ genius consists in imaginatively reconstructing the world, via the art of writing, to make it more suitable, more livable, more benign. I do this myself — I’m a fiction writer, and I’ve been published. I write to kill time, before time kills me. In doing so I reshape the meaningless and frequently malign chaos of the world, especially in the Trump era, to try to repair the psychic damage that the world has inflicted on me. To see how inventively Lessans does this, consider the mysterious Chapter 10 that peacegirl withheld from us, but which someone managed to dig up anyway.

Lessans believes we are all destined to live again and again — though this is not reincarnation! No “soul” or anything like it passes from one incarnation to the next; one’s perspective merely changes. My “I” becomes a different “I”. This is not dissimilar to older conception of death and rebirth in the mystic Eastern tradition; and it is definitely of a piece with contemporary work on the subject by Tom Clark and Wayne Stewart. (When I pointed this out to peacegirl in an effort to show her that Lessans was not alone in his thinking, she threw a great big hissy fit for reasons that remain obscure.)

This is one way that Lessans deals with Mishima’s “adumbrations of nothingness.” Ordinary people can’t come up with stuff like this — they are left to their own banal devices in dealing with their own inevitable existential crises: they respond by watching television, becoming sports fanatics, voting for Donald Trump, drinking their sorrows away, numbing themselves with opioids, etc. But like Miller, Lessans was not an ordinary man.

Even the light and sight stuff has a hidden point, regardless of the silliness of the scientific claims. (It must be noted that in the Authentic Text, Lessans did NOT claim that we see the light from the sun even before it arrives on earth; quite to the contrary, he maintained that we will not see the sun until eight minutes after it is turned on. Peacegirl changed this passage, either out of malice or ignorance or both, and since then has spent an ungodly amount of time defending a strawman of her father’s original position.) To me, what Lessans is driving at here is that we all live in the present; NOW is all we have; the past and future are fictions. Who else has taught this? Buddhists.
I was not defending a strawman and I did not write anything out of malice or ignorance or both. He changed it in his own words David in his later book.

Quote:
Originally Posted by David
Nor is the free will/determinism stuff really new, but it’s illuminating. Lessans is clearly a compatibilist, peacegirl’s howling to the contrary notwithstanding; and in positing a blame-free and less opprobrious world once free will is rejected, Lessans is comfortably at home with many contemporary philosophers, including Cornell’s Derk Pereboom.
Yup, especially Spinoza.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Davidm
The imaginative reconstruction of the world can also be done collaboratively and collectively, among individuals who lack the personal genius of people like Miller and Lessans. This is done through rumor, hearsay, collective improvisation and, in the modern world, social media and memes. Even before the Internet, Ufologists collectively reconstructed the dreary quotidian world into one magically infested by extraterrestrials either malign or benign, but like god or gods always vitally interested in humans, thus providing a balm to the Copernican mediocrity principle and to our fundamental meaninglessness. Here are UFOS as psychic Jungian projections, not literally real by mythopoetically real, which is arguably the most important “reality” of all: Art is a lie that tells the truth, Picasso said. Such imaginative reconstructions of reality can be good or bad; they bring us conspiracy theories of the wildest sorts, Flat Earth Societies and the alt-right. But they all, good or bad, speak to the human longing to beat back psychic entropy and fashion oases of order in the maelstroms of chaos.

Chuck, do you actually own the copyright to the Authentic Text? Since I co-own small nascent publishing enterprise, I might consider publishing the Authentic Text, after consulting with my partner. By “Authentic Text” I assume that text in which all the sex scenes are intact and which is devoid of peacegirl’s malefic interpolations, emendations and excisions. Naturally the text would still require heavy editing (without changing any meanings), a service that I would be happy to perform.
David will do anything to discredit my father because it's a threat to his worldview and he can't deal. Here are some of David's beliefs. David believes in determinism but he also believes in free will. That makes him a compatibilist. Lessans was not a compatibilist but David is trying to pigeonhole him into this false categorization. In the first chapter Lessans explains how he uses the term and continues to clarify it throughout the book. You can say I did something of my own free will and not be contradictory (like compatibilism) if it means "I did something of my own desire". Just because you do something of your own desire does not automatically grant you freedom of the will in the chdo (could have done otherwise) sense. David believes that time is not constant. It can go slow or fast depending on one's frame of reference. His faulty logic causes him to believe we can access the past and the future by means of a 4th dimension that sits within a block universe. His imagination is on overdrive. He believes time machines will be able to take us to the past where we can visit our dead grandparents. :stupid: David believes in wormholes and warped timespace where, once again, time merges with space and can bend. He believes this because his idol said it. David's imagination has run wild and it's at the point where he can't distinguish between reality and fantasy. Because Lessans claims that man does not have free will (which David can't accept because then he wouldn't be able to take credit for being the mensch he thinks he is), he is doing whatever he can to ruin Lessans' reputation. This thread is not about Lessans, it's about the people who are judging Lessans due to their own personal demons. David is definitely one you should trust. :giggle: He will never be able to close the chapter on this book. He'll be haunted forever and ever and ever! muahahahaha :D

Compatibilism: A Parable (comic) -
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Last edited by peacegirl; 04-23-2018 at 05:28 PM.
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  #51712  
Old 04-22-2018, 09:08 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

I don't know, I kind of think this thread should always end with ChuckF's and davidm's posts, repost if necessary and as needed.

Quote:
Originally Posted by davidm View Post
Quote:
Originally Posted by ChuckF View Post
peacegirl, what is the Butt Stuff Injunction? Can you explain the Boohog Corollary?

Let's just take a shortcut here: Your father's discovered what authors have discovered since Gilgamesh. The written word is a powerful tool to help us be.

Once you pare away the veneer of incoherent nonsense babble, the Authentic Text is, at its core, a catalogue of the insecurities of a lower-middle class to middle class mediocrity living in mid-century America. It recites his various anxieties (educational, financial, sexual, etc.) and imagines a new world - a Golden Age - in which each of them is resolved. Not by dint of personal improvement, but rather by the global embrace of a worldview that, by its nature, exalts the Author and normalizes those very things at the root of the anxiety. It is an expression of a fantasy world through which the Author is elevated in the esteem of others, not only for "wisdom" the pseudophilosophical ramblings that constitute a weak glue to bind this ball of anxieties together, but also by abolition of the very norms that he perceives to deprive him of the esteem that he deserves. In the Golden Age, the Author will be accorded the same respect for which he so clearly envies Will Durant, whose bizarrely outsized presence looms so consistently large. In the Golden Age, mismatched libido will simply cease to be a problem. In the Golden Age, no one will judge him for his lack of education - a sensitivity the peculiar acuteness of which is singularly clear. In the Golden Age, teenaged boys will not face that same (completely ordinary) awkward fumbling and stinging rejection. And so on and so on.

In brief, the Authentic Text imagines a Golden Age wherein the Author is perceived by others as he wishes to be perceived in the present. He is more than the pool pro, and is also praised as a thinker, relieved of financial pressures, and freely pursues the sexual life that his id persistently demands. He imagines the life in which he has achieved those goals that reality has frustrated.

This is perfectly healthy and normal. All socialized humans grapple with their own insecurities, each in his or her own way, and much very fine literature has resulted from precisely this. The Authentic Text was the Author's way of relieving these internal pressures with the tools at his disposal. Incidentally, that is why there are so many books. He continued to write them because the underlying anxieties are perennial and evasive of resolution. (Indeed, some anxieties echo down the generations peacegirl, as from time to time you are yourself a pitiable devisee of certain of them.) Though it is wrapped in a thin veil of hackneyed chatter that is the Author's best effort to simulate academic writing - or at least Will Durant's writing - the Authentic Text is nothing more than the Author's mechanism for coping with the symptoms of existence.
I think this is really an outstanding analysis Chuck, and, stepping out of role, I’m quite serious about this. You truly are the True Steward of the Authentic Text. #trueStewardship :1thumbup:

Yes, this is what the book is about, thematically and in its substance. And it has literary merit — but only the Authentic Text, and NOT the corrupted version.

With the sex scenes restored and all of peacegirl’s turgid nonsense stripped out, the book reminds me, as I’ve noted before, of the works of Henry Miller — which are not only to this day best-sellers, but considered literary masterpieces and precursors to the works of Kerouac and the beats, among others.

Consider a book like Tropic of Cancer, which I recently took the time to reread after many years, and I was delighted to discover that it was just as good as I remembered it, and maybe even better. But what’s it really all about? A middle-aged man, an utter non-entity, struggling to cope with his inner demons in an an indifferent and even hostile world. The work is an extended literary mid-life crisis.

A middle-aged man runs away to Paris, the way someone in his early twenties might flee his paralyzingly banal and soul-crushing hometown and make the cross-country trip to San Francisco (as I did). Because he is middle-aged, though, Miller is making one last desperate stab to claim autonomy with his time running out, his own mortality very much an issue (as it is not with younger people) and acutely conscious of the “adumbrations of nothingness,” as the Japanese writer Mishima (of whom Miller was a fan) put it. Miller’s work is a book-length exercise in exorcizing his demons, resolving his anxieties, and bucking up his own inconsequential stature by demonizing his native land, the “black curse” of America.

In Paris he runs around with his good-for-nothing fellow expatriate pals from brothel to brothel or they have “cunts,” as they are persistently called, up to their seedy working-man’s hotel rooms, squalid and filled with bedbugs. In one telling scene Henry is trying to help one of his pals who is bent over a “cunt” but he either can’t get it up or can’t get it in or some such. Even if Miller did not consciously intend it, the scene is a metaphor for the inevitable arrival of impotence followed by death, or perhaps more precisely impotence as death, an idea that curiously circles back on the thesis that the opposite of impotence, orgasm, is the “little death” — we “destroyed” each other in bed, Hemingway’s dying protagonist in Snows of Kilimanjaro tells his wife. Everything is sex, Miller writes at one point, but everything is really sex and death.

Unlike Lessans, Miller does not posit a coming Golden Age in which he is the center of everything, but rather he brings the external world down to his own level, which pretty much comes to the same thing. Miller insisted his writings were devoid of ego, because he told funny stories on himself that most people would not do, out of shame; but as Gore Vidal noted, Miller’s work is nothing but Ego — no matter what Miller does, no matter how shameful conventional morality would deem his behavior, it’s all good because Miller did it!

In one scene, Miller takes a pious Hindu boy, a “very religious” young man visiting from India, to a Paris brothel. There, the boy makes the faux pas of taking a dump in a bidet. :lol: All hell breaks loose, of course, but later, Miller imagines the whole world reduced to this: a waiter produces a silver tray, lifts the lid, and on the tray are two pieces of shit. This, he assays, is the world. So if you live in Miller’s Shit Age or Lessans’ Golden Age, everyone will be at least as good as anyone else; and one’s existential anxieties are allayed.

Miller’s sword and shield against the world is his art, as it was for Lessans. What he did — fusing fiction with autobiography, and leavening this alloy with a curious brew of fantasy, surrealism, and philosophy or perhaps more accurately pseudo-philosophy — was not exactly new, as some critics have maintained it was. Joyce did it, and better, in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses; the Marquis de Sade did it, others have done it, with the autobiographical and the picaresque novel boasting a long literary thread stretching back through history. But Miller like all great artists had a unique voice.

During the course of this long thread, I have long thought — and my suspicions were confirmed when you, Chuck, brought the Authentic Text to light — that Lessans was a genius (though not in the way that peacegirl imagines).

This, of course, is at total variance with peacegirl’s claim that I “resent” Lessans or am “vindictive” toward him, :lol: which is just pure projection on her part — it is she who resents her father, not I. If I had met the author of the Ur-penis and Harry’s sexcapades and whatnot I’m sure I would have liked him a lot. He was a witty guy, not like his dour, rigidified and fanatical scold of a daughter.

Like Miller, Lessans’ genius consists in imaginatively reconstructing the world, via the art of writing, to make it more suitable, more livable, more benign. I do this myself — I’m a fiction writer, and I’ve been published. I write to kill time, before time kills me. In doing so I reshape the meaningless and frequently malign chaos of the world, especially in the Trump era, to try to repair the psychic damage that the world has inflicted on me. To see how inventively Lessans does this, consider the mysterious Chapter 10 that peacegirl withheld from us, but which someone managed to dig up anyway.

Lessans believes we are all destined to live again and again — though this is not reincarnation! No “soul” or anything like it passes from one incarnation to the next; one’s perspective merely changes. My “I” becomes a different “I”. This is not dissimilar to older conception of death and rebirth in the mystic Eastern tradition; and it is definitely of a piece with contemporary work on the subject by Tom Clark and Wayne Stewart. (When I pointed this out to peacegirl in an effort to show her that Lessans was not alone in his thinking, she threw a great big hissy fit for reasons that remain obscure.)

This is one way that Lessans deals with Mishima’s “adumbrations of nothingness.” Ordinary people can’t come up with stuff like this — they are left to their own banal devices in dealing with their own inevitable existential crises: they respond by watching television, becoming sports fanatics, voting for Donald Trump, drinking their sorrows away, numbing themselves with opioids, etc. But like Miller, Lessans was not an ordinary man.

Even the light and sight stuff has a hidden point, regardless of the silliness of the scientific claims. (It must be noted that in the Authentic Text, Lessans did NOT claim that we see the light from the sun even before it arrives on earth; quite to the contrary, he maintained that we will not see the sun until eight minutes after it is turned on. Peacegirl changed this passage, either out of malice or ignorance or both, and since then has spent an ungodly amount of time defending a strawman of her father’s original position.) To me, what Lessans is driving at here is that we all live in the present; NOW is all we have; the past and future are fictions. Who else has taught this? Buddhists.

Nor is the free will/determinism stuff really new, but it’s illuminating. Lessans is clearly a compatibilist, peacegirl’s howling to the contrary notwithstanding; and in positing a blame-free and less opprobrious world once free will is rejected, Lessans is comfortably at home with many contemporary philosophers, including Cornell’s Derk Pereboom.

The imaginative reconstruction of the world can also be done collaboratively and collectively, among individuals who lack the personal genius of people like Miller and Lessans. This is done through rumor, hearsay, collective improvisation and, in the modern world, social media and memes. Even before the Internet, Ufologists collectively reconstructed the dreary quotidian world into one magically infested by extraterrestrials either malign or benign, but like god or gods always vitally interested in humans, thus providing a balm to the Copernican mediocrity principle and to our fundamental meaninglessness. Here are UFOS as psychic Jungian projections, not literally real by mythopoetically real, which is arguably the most important “reality” of all: Art is a lie that tells the truth, Picasso said. Such imaginative reconstructions of reality can be good or bad; they bring us conspiracy theories of the wildest sorts, Flat Earth Societies and the alt-right. But they all, good or bad, speak to the human longing to beat back psychic entropy and fashion oases of order in the maelstroms of chaos.

Chuck, do you actually own the copyright to the Authentic Text? Since I co-own small nascent publishing enterprise, I might consider publishing the Authentic Text, after consulting with my partner. By “Authentic Text” I assume that text in which all the sex scenes are intact and which is devoid of peacegirl’s malefic interpolations, emendations and excisions. Naturally the text would still require heavy editing (without changing any meanings), a service that I would be happy to perform.
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  #51713  
Old 04-22-2018, 10:37 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Are you ever going to explain what you meant by your bizarre comment about supernovae being closer than we think? Or was that just another throwaway line where you had no idea what you were talking about?
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  #51714  
Old 04-23-2018, 12:28 AM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Quote:
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It's a complete fabrication. This is all made up crap!
More taglines for your corrupted text.

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Originally Posted by peacegirl View Post
What are the three forms of the first blow Chuck?
Deepthroat, just-the-tip, and the Peruvian necktie.

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first blow Chuck?
Sure, if you think he's up for it.
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  #51715  
Old 04-24-2018, 01:40 AM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Quote:
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Quote:
Originally Posted by David
Nor is the free will/determinism stuff really new, but it’s illuminating. Lessans is clearly a compatibilist, peacegirl’s howling to the contrary notwithstanding; and in positing a blame-free and less opprobrious world once free will is rejected, Lessans is comfortably at home with many contemporary philosophers, including Cornell’s Derk Pereboom.
Yup, especially Spinoza.
If Spinoza (d. 1677) is a "contemporary philosopher," then maybe time travel is a thing after all.

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  #51716  
Old 07-24-2018, 01:54 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

I am bumping the public thread to wish all three types of homo-sexuals a prescious, prescious True Steward Day!
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  #51717  
Old 07-24-2018, 03:50 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

When Flo saw this thread bumped, her heart thumped. :egad: I thought She was back -- she, who murdered my precious Manchester terrier, Adolf. :cry:

All Flo can say is :phew:

Happy True Steward Day, all your varied and sundry Homos out there! :wave:
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  #51718  
Old 07-24-2018, 04:57 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

:laugh:

The Authentic Text is truly magical. Within it prescious, prescious confines, Seymour Lessans was not just another two-pump chump, incapable of pleasing anyone but himself, but rather a sexual tyrannosaurus1 for whom getting a woman off five times in two hours is as natural as breathing!

One simply cannot overstate what a positive contribution to humankind ChuckF wrought in rescuing the Authentic Text from a dusty shelf in a long-forgotten corner of the Library of Congress and bringing it to a world in need. Though peacegirl sought to kill the Authentic Text, striking it over and over with dull meat axe of mediocrity until nothing remained but the laughably ungainly Corrupted Text that peacegirl unsuccessfully attempts to hawk for lucre online, the 100% non-religious God would not allow the truth He revealed to Seymour Lessans to become lost yet again.

Thank you, Chuck. It is mathematically, scientifically and undeniably (that is to say, undeniably, undeniably and undeniably) correct that you are the one and only True Steward of Seymour Lessans' intellectual legacy.

1
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  #51719  
Old 09-02-2018, 11:34 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Goats 'drawn to happy human faces' - BBC News
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  #51720  
Old 09-02-2018, 11:53 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Quote:
Originally Posted by ceptimus View Post
:goatsonfire:
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  #51721  
Old 09-03-2018, 09:43 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

Quote:
Originally Posted by ceptimus View Post
Must be because of the human faces' gait. :yup:
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"Psychos don't explode when sunlight hits them, I don't give a fuck how crazy they are." ~ S. Gecko

"What the fuck is a German muffin?" ~ R. Swanson
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  #51722  
Old 09-03-2018, 11:49 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

My darling Manchester terrier, Adolf, who was the light of my life, always recognized the face of the representative of the United States Postal Service. Adolf loathed him (as who does not loathe mailmen, who brings bills and so forth), and went into a great big barking fit every day on sight. Some of you may recall the sad story of how Adolf mutilated the postal service representative, and had to be put down by the authorities. This could have been avoided had peacegirl not suppressed the Authentic Text of Seymour Lessans, because in that case Adolf would never have been able to strike the first blow — or bite, to be specific. Peacegirl has never once expressed remorse for murdering Adolf. :cry:

However, on sober reflection (when I am sober), it is possible that Adolf recognized the mailman’s face by its gait alone.
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  #51723  
Old 09-10-2018, 08:10 PM
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Default Re: A revolution in thought

In an all-too-rare moment of candor, peacegirl admitted years ago that all the "gait" nonsense was just another malevolent corruption of her own manufacture.

I cannot say why taking one massive, steaming, stinking dump after another on her father's intellectual legacy is peacegirl's path of greater satisfaction. I only know - with mathematical, scientific and undeniable certainty - that taking one massive, steaming, stinking dump after another on her father's intellectual legacy is in fact peacegirl's path of greater satisfaction. :yup:
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