Hochwertiges Rasiermesser
Sony Kopfhörer mit Noise Cancelling
Smoothie Maker
Staffelei (?)
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I want some of Paul Town's books, maybe a new touchpad. After that, my life is set for now.
The amazon reviews are great, my interest is peaked.
I just put $1000 into Chainlink
really good stuff, this is the type of things you hear in ted talks,
Before this book, things were different. Now I make million dollars deals and eat at the finest restaurants evrynight, thanks PT.
He's a classic Twitter troll/shitposter. He was part of the group that did the "REAL NEWS" skits, including the one you may remember reporting a Saxon man on Blackpill™ running over a crowd of migrants to accelerate race tensions. The fringe types that use humor to make points always produce the best reading material in my opinion. People say Dostoevsky is great, but I enjoyed Lessons in Apathy: A Guide to Not Caring Your Way to Not Unhappiness and How to Bomb the U.S. Govt, and found them to be way more fun and informative.
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12/7/2020 8:36:29 PM
I love Dostoyevsky but there is a disconnect between his sort of depressing realism when comparing it to our own. There's an obvious a historical separation but technology furthers that gap tremendously. Between outrage culture and the velocity in which events occur now, the level of apathy has accelerated as well - we can never truly empathize with the reality of some tragedy because we're already being confronted by the next one. Writers like Dostoyevsky, Nietzsche, and Schopenhauer are great but they can't show you the affects temporality affect apathy and pessimism in a contemporary sense.
On the contrary, I found Schopenhauer and Nietzsche to be very on point with what we experience. I particularly enjoyed Schopenhauer's relentless pessimism.
Schopenhauer said:In a world where all is unstable, and nought can endure, but is swept onwards at once in the hurrying whirlpool of change; where a man, if he is to keep erect at all, must always be advancing and moving, like an acrobat on a rope—in such a world, happiness in inconceivable. How can it dwell where, as Plato says, continual Becoming and never Being is the sole form of existence? In the first place, a man never is happy, but spends his whole life in striving after something which he thinks will make him so; he seldom attains his goal, and when he does, it is only to be disappointed; he is mostly shipwrecked in the end, and comes into harbor with masts and rigging gone. And then, it is all one whether he has been happy or miserable; for his life was never anything more than a present moment always vanishing; and now it is over.
At the same time it is a wonderful thing that, in the world of human beings as in that of animals in general, this manifold restless motion is produced and kept up by the agency of two simple impulses—hunger and the sexual instinct; aided a little, perhaps, by the influence of boredom, but by nothing else; and that, in the theatre of life, these suffice to form the primum mobile of how complicated a machinery, setting in motion how strange and varied a scene!
On looking a little closer, we find that inorganic matter presents a constant conflict between chemical forces, which eventually works dissolution; and on the other hand, that organic life is impossible without continual change of matter, and cannot exist if it does not receive perpetual help from without. This is the realm of finality; and its opposite would be an infinite existence, exposed to no attack from without, and needing nothing to support it; [Greek: haei hosautos dn], the realm of eternal peace; [Greek: oute giguomenon oute apollumenon], some timeless, changeless state, one and undiversified; the negative knowledge of which forms the dominant note of the Platonic philosophy. It is to some such state as this that the denial of the will to live opens up the way.
The scenes of our life are like pictures done in rough mosaic. Looked at close, they produce no effect. There is nothing beautiful to be found in them, unless you stand some distance off. So, to gain anything we have longed for is only to discover how vain and empty it is; and even though we are always living in expectation of better things, at the same time we often repent and long to have the past back again. We look upon the present as something to be put up with while it lasts, and serving only as the way towards our goal. Hence most people, if they glance back when they come to the end of life, will find that all along they have been living ad interim: they will be surprised to find that the very thing they disregarded and let slip by unenjoyed, was just the life in the expectation of which they passed all their time. Of how many a man may it not be said that hope made a fool of him until he danced into the arms of death!
These are things I find still ring true to this day.
It is true these people didn't write for Millenials or Zoomers. The voices of pessimism of this age are Keemstar, Sam Harris, and the documentary What the Bleep Do We Know? It's intellectual consumerism.
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