Emotional Ganglion
I have known a lot of people that should be suffering but are not. I have known a lot of people that are suffering but are not. The tragedy of life is that there isn’t a discernable measure to calculate who is suffering, who ought suffer, and who is causing all the suffering. Are there people that deserve to suffer? Are there people that sincerely enjoy suffering and come into life only to suffer excruciating miseries? Are there those ever sensitive to the miseries so that nothing ever will happen them happy, and even happiness would make their lives futile? Then there are those people that are seemingly insensitive, that are enjoying life despite of all the children that are hungry, despite all the people that are being mangled, raped and emotionally slaughtered , despite global injustices, despite all of the horses that are dog meat, despite all that, these people are having a grand old time.
I would never pose a question without having the absolute answer on the matter, it is my polite way of sparing you the discomforts that could be brought to you by the knowledge that you have holes in your head that can not be filled; that your tree of knowledge is rotting without bearing fruit, that you are slowly dying without answering any of the major questions, death being final confirmation of your wrongness. Such questions as: “Do you really exists?” “Are you saying what I think you are saying?” Or the old time favorite, “Is there really a god?” Yes or no please! None of this “I believe that there is a god, but not the standard issue god but a special god that is out there, or a force, or my god is nature…” that sort of easy bear and fox and deer and stream and mountain and spiritual valley answer stuff doesn’t cut it for me; though if I were a hunter I might just warm up to it; great myth that hunters were the first nature conservationists. So just a simple “yes or no”, and no, no, god is not nature and can not be nature because nature is amoral; and none of us want an amoral god that isn’t going to take sides as mandated for the profession of lord of the universe. And what about the question of, “If there is a god, have you been good?” Just a simple “yes or no” please, I don’t need a dubious answer like “I have been mostly good,” and “I only tell white lies,” and you have never coveted thy neighbor’s wife. Lusted after another’s lover. Incidentally have you noticed that reading the bible is like listening to a wife. Surely you at least know that the bible was written by a woman to chain masculine force, the bible is the first self help book written by a woman so that men could become more civilized creatures. If you want to get at the truth know not Moses but his wife, and know not Jesus but his mother.
Now hear this!: I make it a point to inform the world, in all of my writings, that the apple that Eve offered Adam was actually sex! The intent being that when women offer us males their appetizing apples we can’t say no. But she can withdraw the offering, but not the ever appetizing desire that she urges within us and intentionally leaves ungratified; as men we are urged to deny the intense desire, high-strung desire energy which we can then only release through aggression or work. We are told that it is a sin for us to eat the apple, once you are damned as guilty of suffering and surrendering to your desires, you can be manipulated. For the most part I would say it worked, but if women had to do it all over again they would just vanish us men. If you want to eliminate male aggression then allow us to overdose on apples. Moralists create a more violent world by restricting the flow of desire and diverting it for productive and repressive purposes. There is always the option of just extinguishing males from the planet, without males rape would cease to exist, except with broom handles, and there would be no need for a god and bible to psychologically control brute male energies. I tell you truth, nothing that you do in this life carries over to your next life, except for one thing, unfulfilled desires. You will be damn for those even in this life.
There are other great questions to answer, like who the hell are you? Did you come into being as you are or did the world make you what you are? Are criminals born or self made, thanks to the institution, like successful professionals. Have you ever noticed that society always takes credit for all the successful people, poster children, but never does it take credit for those that fail, failures are anti social creatures. But really who are you? Do you know how to answer that question? And please don’t tell me that you are an artist or an engineer, or a car mechanic or a accountant; oh please don’t tell me you are an accountant I don’t want any spreadsheets reading my book, please, if you are an accountant be kind to my aesthetic sensibilities and return this nonrefundable book to the store immediately. Whoosh. Anyway don’t tell me that you are your profession, and don’t tell me that you are a father, mother or a good husband or wife, not such thing as a good husband or wife, and if they are good they are the most boring despicable people on the planet. “Get a movie before you come home honey.” No, what I am asking is who are you when you subtract yourself from all of the situations that humanity makes you, mother, father, professional, laborer, poet, whatever, all those things are not you, they are used by you to get along with the rest of us, but they are not you. When alone in a deserted island you find out who you are, most people when they find out who they are either commit suicide, get themselves killed, or actually muster the courage to torture themselves, or more commonly torment the rest of us. What is a tragedy is when these pain feeders document their pain so as to reproduce the effect, so that their agony will last a little longer, sentimental artificial wombs of agony. May you remember, when you stumble upon their bounty of tragedies that a torturous life is deserving punishment for masochists.
Now listen to me here, this is the question that really matters, who are you? Are you aware of yourself? Do you feel your pure essence? Are you in love with yourself? Is seeing your inner self painful to you? Have you gone into yourself and found the trip exhilarating? Was there anything there? Or, and this is the big one, are you all external? Is your exoskeleton personality all you are? All surfaces you, and if it wasn’t for the external world you would not come into being and more horrific without the external world might you not react? I know that you like more accuracy in my answers so I am going to give you accuracy because I am a lover and practitioner of the scientific art. At any given point in existence only 12.3 percent of a population knows who they really are. It is these people that run the world. The remainder of the population passes their lifespan learning and practicing the philosophies and ideas of the 12.3 percent, learning their ways, mastering their desires, hearing and longing their aspirations.
I will tell you the secret recipe to avoid suffering: Find yourself, be yourself, and give what you are in essence to society. Society will not like that, it has plans for you, it wants you to become all the things that your ancestors were, all the dead things that they created are still alive and you are recreating them; impart your redesigning of the future present is an insult to your parents; which translates to, you should be unhappy, you should be feeling lots of pain, because it is not easy to accommodate to the past. Yet, evidence has it, that though it is not easy not to be yourself, it is easier than being yourself, and it is easier because others have answers and you know you don’t. Ah if only you could read minds like I can.
But barring knowing or not knowing who or what you are, what I am trying to say here is that if you can’t answer any of the above question to your satisfaction, meaning, can you respond beyond doubt to yourself and no one else? And to be that self assured you must absolutely be willing to know that you do not know but are simply aware of what you need to do for yourself and the world. Otherwise you can’t convince us that your beliefs of what or who you are, are not merely guesses, suspicions, or outright lies that you have convinced yourself are truths. You simply can’t. And if you agree with me on that, kind of difficult for you not to agree with me unless you are admitting to not being able to doubt yourself, but if you do agree with me then the next greater question becomes, how can you know pain, how can you, if you might not know yourself, how can you feel the pain that you feel is real pain and not a construct of your profound misconceptions?
Let us take an artist for instance, do they really suffer as much as they like to advertise that they suffer? You know we keep on getting all this marketing fluff of posthumously discovered artists that lived miserable lives. I guess if you cut your ear off you suffered, I guess if your book got published after you’ve committed suicide, you suffered. And if your lovers all cheated and betrayed and even shot you, or you shot them, and if your leg was amputated, and society disliked all of your eccentric opinions and laughed at your paintings, I guess we can assume you, or whomever you are, have suffered. But of course this is not the case, the artist is the creature that least suffers in life, and this is true because when you can touch the sublime aesthetic, as all true artists must, then suffering is literally absurd and unobtainable.
Sure an artist can commit hara-kiri or cut an ear off, but that is because artists want to suffer to assure themselves that they are alive while feeling the bliss of their novels or paintings. If you feel extreme ecstasy within your aesthetic sensibilities, then it is right to punish yourself for the uniqueness of those feelings; for the lack of drama suffered by the aesthetic is immense. It becomes an artistic duty to reproduce pain equal to the sheer ecstasy of the art just to stay alive. Pain decreases the rate of ascension thus maintaining an earthy audience. Of course it is not necessary for the artist to suffer, but when you get anesthetized by the aesthetic you have to make yourself hurt, because nothing hurts more in life than something that does not hurt. People are used to pain, the aesthetic is incomprehensible to most human beings because it is painless. Our ability to recognize and feel is tied to pricking pains, which is why the egregious artist paints pain into their aesthetic visions. But the aesthetic remains aloof to the disingenuous agonizing representations, and partially rises before us, despite of the scratched canvases, into regulated magnificence.
Not yet has been born the artist that does not taint and poison their art with the pain that they feel. In our times it is the economists that are nearest to the painless aesthetic. That is also the name of my pain. The aesthetic perfection of frugality. Economists do not feel the pain of their applied economic theory, they only see the purity and beauty of it, and believe that the earthly application of it is possible and only tarnished and reduced in aesthetic perfection by a mere humanity. Their ability to sustain the purity of their economic vision, has allowed the flourishing of its aesthetic massiveness, which only makes economists fall more in love with it, and further apply it to every aspect of our being.
My dear reader I will, if you will allow me, confess to you in the intimacy of our moment, that my greatest sorrow and personal failure, is that I am guilty of dressing the aesthetic with pains! This mark of Cain means that I am a man of our history and not of exceptional vision.
The artist is a sensitive person, an emotional ganglion of spirited nerve endings smelling and twitching within their environment. The slightest of changes in the emotionally charged air, even nerve sensing events that are not happening, that are not real, and that will never happen, these are felt by the emotional ganglion of nerves that embody a pure artist. Life on earth has its folkloric rugged carnival perspective, which to an emotional ganglion, outside of its artistic sheltering asylum, emancipates painful obfuscations; but to the salutary, the emotional ganglion that an artist is, while allowing a severe feel of reality, also allows for the perception of the sublime aesthetic. The, emotional ganglion, artist, wrongly believe that their painful existence allows them to sense and to nurture the artistic representation, but it is in fact merely that their sensitivity perceives the painless aesthetic, while the same sensitivity allows them to feel the brutality of the non-aesthetic normality. It is then not that pain gives birth to art, but rather that the ability to feel the aesthetic also implies the ability to feel pain, they are not related, separate in character, the aesthetic feels no agony but ecstasy; the aesthetic is incapable of suffering, but the emotional ganglion is capable of feeling pain and beauty, and more, capable of distorting both.
To summarize for those of you that are out there hurting, feeling your daily dose of pain, the more you are able to feel pain the closer you are to becoming aware of why pain is so unnecessary. And by reason of insanity, the more pain you feel the more away from your pure self that you are. To your favor being completely in pain ought induce a self-correction known as premature death. That is to say that you die before your essence can say hello.
RC
I would never pose a question without having the absolute answer on the matter, it is my polite way of sparing you the discomforts that could be brought to you by the knowledge that you have holes in your head that can not be filled; that your tree of knowledge is rotting without bearing fruit, that you are slowly dying without answering any of the major questions, death being final confirmation of your wrongness. Such questions as: “Do you really exists?” “Are you saying what I think you are saying?” Or the old time favorite, “Is there really a god?” Yes or no please! None of this “I believe that there is a god, but not the standard issue god but a special god that is out there, or a force, or my god is nature…” that sort of easy bear and fox and deer and stream and mountain and spiritual valley answer stuff doesn’t cut it for me; though if I were a hunter I might just warm up to it; great myth that hunters were the first nature conservationists. So just a simple “yes or no”, and no, no, god is not nature and can not be nature because nature is amoral; and none of us want an amoral god that isn’t going to take sides as mandated for the profession of lord of the universe. And what about the question of, “If there is a god, have you been good?” Just a simple “yes or no” please, I don’t need a dubious answer like “I have been mostly good,” and “I only tell white lies,” and you have never coveted thy neighbor’s wife. Lusted after another’s lover. Incidentally have you noticed that reading the bible is like listening to a wife. Surely you at least know that the bible was written by a woman to chain masculine force, the bible is the first self help book written by a woman so that men could become more civilized creatures. If you want to get at the truth know not Moses but his wife, and know not Jesus but his mother.
Now hear this!: I make it a point to inform the world, in all of my writings, that the apple that Eve offered Adam was actually sex! The intent being that when women offer us males their appetizing apples we can’t say no. But she can withdraw the offering, but not the ever appetizing desire that she urges within us and intentionally leaves ungratified; as men we are urged to deny the intense desire, high-strung desire energy which we can then only release through aggression or work. We are told that it is a sin for us to eat the apple, once you are damned as guilty of suffering and surrendering to your desires, you can be manipulated. For the most part I would say it worked, but if women had to do it all over again they would just vanish us men. If you want to eliminate male aggression then allow us to overdose on apples. Moralists create a more violent world by restricting the flow of desire and diverting it for productive and repressive purposes. There is always the option of just extinguishing males from the planet, without males rape would cease to exist, except with broom handles, and there would be no need for a god and bible to psychologically control brute male energies. I tell you truth, nothing that you do in this life carries over to your next life, except for one thing, unfulfilled desires. You will be damn for those even in this life.
There are other great questions to answer, like who the hell are you? Did you come into being as you are or did the world make you what you are? Are criminals born or self made, thanks to the institution, like successful professionals. Have you ever noticed that society always takes credit for all the successful people, poster children, but never does it take credit for those that fail, failures are anti social creatures. But really who are you? Do you know how to answer that question? And please don’t tell me that you are an artist or an engineer, or a car mechanic or a accountant; oh please don’t tell me you are an accountant I don’t want any spreadsheets reading my book, please, if you are an accountant be kind to my aesthetic sensibilities and return this nonrefundable book to the store immediately. Whoosh. Anyway don’t tell me that you are your profession, and don’t tell me that you are a father, mother or a good husband or wife, not such thing as a good husband or wife, and if they are good they are the most boring despicable people on the planet. “Get a movie before you come home honey.” No, what I am asking is who are you when you subtract yourself from all of the situations that humanity makes you, mother, father, professional, laborer, poet, whatever, all those things are not you, they are used by you to get along with the rest of us, but they are not you. When alone in a deserted island you find out who you are, most people when they find out who they are either commit suicide, get themselves killed, or actually muster the courage to torture themselves, or more commonly torment the rest of us. What is a tragedy is when these pain feeders document their pain so as to reproduce the effect, so that their agony will last a little longer, sentimental artificial wombs of agony. May you remember, when you stumble upon their bounty of tragedies that a torturous life is deserving punishment for masochists.
Now listen to me here, this is the question that really matters, who are you? Are you aware of yourself? Do you feel your pure essence? Are you in love with yourself? Is seeing your inner self painful to you? Have you gone into yourself and found the trip exhilarating? Was there anything there? Or, and this is the big one, are you all external? Is your exoskeleton personality all you are? All surfaces you, and if it wasn’t for the external world you would not come into being and more horrific without the external world might you not react? I know that you like more accuracy in my answers so I am going to give you accuracy because I am a lover and practitioner of the scientific art. At any given point in existence only 12.3 percent of a population knows who they really are. It is these people that run the world. The remainder of the population passes their lifespan learning and practicing the philosophies and ideas of the 12.3 percent, learning their ways, mastering their desires, hearing and longing their aspirations.
I will tell you the secret recipe to avoid suffering: Find yourself, be yourself, and give what you are in essence to society. Society will not like that, it has plans for you, it wants you to become all the things that your ancestors were, all the dead things that they created are still alive and you are recreating them; impart your redesigning of the future present is an insult to your parents; which translates to, you should be unhappy, you should be feeling lots of pain, because it is not easy to accommodate to the past. Yet, evidence has it, that though it is not easy not to be yourself, it is easier than being yourself, and it is easier because others have answers and you know you don’t. Ah if only you could read minds like I can.
But barring knowing or not knowing who or what you are, what I am trying to say here is that if you can’t answer any of the above question to your satisfaction, meaning, can you respond beyond doubt to yourself and no one else? And to be that self assured you must absolutely be willing to know that you do not know but are simply aware of what you need to do for yourself and the world. Otherwise you can’t convince us that your beliefs of what or who you are, are not merely guesses, suspicions, or outright lies that you have convinced yourself are truths. You simply can’t. And if you agree with me on that, kind of difficult for you not to agree with me unless you are admitting to not being able to doubt yourself, but if you do agree with me then the next greater question becomes, how can you know pain, how can you, if you might not know yourself, how can you feel the pain that you feel is real pain and not a construct of your profound misconceptions?
Let us take an artist for instance, do they really suffer as much as they like to advertise that they suffer? You know we keep on getting all this marketing fluff of posthumously discovered artists that lived miserable lives. I guess if you cut your ear off you suffered, I guess if your book got published after you’ve committed suicide, you suffered. And if your lovers all cheated and betrayed and even shot you, or you shot them, and if your leg was amputated, and society disliked all of your eccentric opinions and laughed at your paintings, I guess we can assume you, or whomever you are, have suffered. But of course this is not the case, the artist is the creature that least suffers in life, and this is true because when you can touch the sublime aesthetic, as all true artists must, then suffering is literally absurd and unobtainable.
Sure an artist can commit hara-kiri or cut an ear off, but that is because artists want to suffer to assure themselves that they are alive while feeling the bliss of their novels or paintings. If you feel extreme ecstasy within your aesthetic sensibilities, then it is right to punish yourself for the uniqueness of those feelings; for the lack of drama suffered by the aesthetic is immense. It becomes an artistic duty to reproduce pain equal to the sheer ecstasy of the art just to stay alive. Pain decreases the rate of ascension thus maintaining an earthy audience. Of course it is not necessary for the artist to suffer, but when you get anesthetized by the aesthetic you have to make yourself hurt, because nothing hurts more in life than something that does not hurt. People are used to pain, the aesthetic is incomprehensible to most human beings because it is painless. Our ability to recognize and feel is tied to pricking pains, which is why the egregious artist paints pain into their aesthetic visions. But the aesthetic remains aloof to the disingenuous agonizing representations, and partially rises before us, despite of the scratched canvases, into regulated magnificence.
Not yet has been born the artist that does not taint and poison their art with the pain that they feel. In our times it is the economists that are nearest to the painless aesthetic. That is also the name of my pain. The aesthetic perfection of frugality. Economists do not feel the pain of their applied economic theory, they only see the purity and beauty of it, and believe that the earthly application of it is possible and only tarnished and reduced in aesthetic perfection by a mere humanity. Their ability to sustain the purity of their economic vision, has allowed the flourishing of its aesthetic massiveness, which only makes economists fall more in love with it, and further apply it to every aspect of our being.
My dear reader I will, if you will allow me, confess to you in the intimacy of our moment, that my greatest sorrow and personal failure, is that I am guilty of dressing the aesthetic with pains! This mark of Cain means that I am a man of our history and not of exceptional vision.
The artist is a sensitive person, an emotional ganglion of spirited nerve endings smelling and twitching within their environment. The slightest of changes in the emotionally charged air, even nerve sensing events that are not happening, that are not real, and that will never happen, these are felt by the emotional ganglion of nerves that embody a pure artist. Life on earth has its folkloric rugged carnival perspective, which to an emotional ganglion, outside of its artistic sheltering asylum, emancipates painful obfuscations; but to the salutary, the emotional ganglion that an artist is, while allowing a severe feel of reality, also allows for the perception of the sublime aesthetic. The, emotional ganglion, artist, wrongly believe that their painful existence allows them to sense and to nurture the artistic representation, but it is in fact merely that their sensitivity perceives the painless aesthetic, while the same sensitivity allows them to feel the brutality of the non-aesthetic normality. It is then not that pain gives birth to art, but rather that the ability to feel the aesthetic also implies the ability to feel pain, they are not related, separate in character, the aesthetic feels no agony but ecstasy; the aesthetic is incapable of suffering, but the emotional ganglion is capable of feeling pain and beauty, and more, capable of distorting both.
To summarize for those of you that are out there hurting, feeling your daily dose of pain, the more you are able to feel pain the closer you are to becoming aware of why pain is so unnecessary. And by reason of insanity, the more pain you feel the more away from your pure self that you are. To your favor being completely in pain ought induce a self-correction known as premature death. That is to say that you die before your essence can say hello.
RC
posted by Ricardo Correa at 10:15 PM
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