part 6
2. the lightest death in the heaviest circumstances. the heaviest death in the lightest circumstances. indeed, all other struggles are mere trivialities. but who is to weigh circumstance or death? he could have just as easily grown up with out this divine complex and cleaned up his shit just as everyone else. but in the end, perception and knowledge are the only things that matter, and so we allow him to have made the great and eternal end.
5. a categorical agreement with nature is nothing more than an acceptance and justification of the fallible guises people invent to explain the world in relation to their own ideology. you comment on how nice the outhouse smells as you're staring at the flower-shaped air freshener hanging over the hole. kitsch is decorating the inside of the stall and inviting all your friends to dinner parties in there.
8. shocking to read that "the brotherhood of man on earth will be possible only on a base of kitsch." it seems as though these are two spheres which are not only separate, but far removed from each other. upon further examination, we understand what he means: kitsch requires a unity of all people understanding, and relating to, and being emotionally affected by the sentiment triggered from an object, person, ideology, etc. a brotherhood of man requires all people to feel the same. this requires an end of culture and religion and personality and individuality: an end of words misunderstood. it seems this isn't a good idea at all. when we lose our individuality, our soul jumps ship off the deck of our body. faces appear the same, conversations don't change, there aren't any miscommunications. it brings about an end of disagreement, it brings about world peace. but at what cost? wouldn't we rather die fighting than cease to live?
10. for a very long time i've thought that i believed in marxism. (i would say communism, because Soviet Socialism was not even close to marx' discourses on communism, but my mother always gets angry and tells me that most people--meaning people of her generation--don't see the difference and would threaten to blacklist or deport me or some other ridiculousness.) i believe in an end of the exploitation of workers, an end to corporate control, an end to commercialism, financial security for the world, human rights, and the like. but there's something in me (my soul shouting very loudly on the deck of my body) that fears a loss of ego, a loss of culture and preference and individuality and disagreements.
12. maybe kitsch lives in all of us. maybe it's something we cannot escape--hardwired into our brain pathways since the time we accepted our culture. but if we recognize it for what it is, does it change it's meaning? maybe an awareness of kitsch in our lives, and an appreciation for the sentiment for our own purposes, not to be replicated or superimposed, can be at least non-harmful, if not beneficial.
15. funny that the french doctor protested someone else's kitsch in order to promote his own. he couldn't tolerate the woman appealing to her constituency, tugging at the heartstrings with freedom, democracy, and the American way. to him, that had no appeal. instead, he wanted to grab the heartstrings of his own followers using annoyance and lack of tolerance for the other side for some and the benefits of the world of medicine for the others. i'm sure, if given the chance, every other subgroup present would have wanted to say a few words in his own language of kitsch, but there simply wasn't time.
19. it seems there is some inherent personality trait in all of us that makes us desirable of being part of something bigger. for some it's country, for some it's religion, for some it's the popular circle in the schoolyard. most people feel very uncomfortable about being alone. we stand apart from the crowd, looking on with smug smiles on our faces, too good for their grand march. but when they start looking back at us is when we loose our cool. one by one faces will turn, gaits will slow, whispers will start. many will look around them and remember they are alone, and begin to loose their footing. they teeter precariously on the edge of the cliff, and start to move back toward and into the group. impressive are the ones who cast defiant glances back at the masses and deftly hop from rock to rock, whistling as they go. and the flock marches on, gaining strength from those around them and the ideologies represented by the metaphorical blood on their metaphorical flag, never once considering that the blood initially came from one who hopped alone on the outcropping of rock, never once realizing that their role in the parade is lighter than air.
22. some are condemned to playacting, some simply do not act. it all depends how much one values the cause versus his own small life. for some, the cause can be abandoned and they can simply return to their life. but if the cause is their life, there is nothing to return to, nothing that remains of who they are. and so they put their lives on the line and fight and fight and fight until they realize they are screaming at the air. still, some choose to continue yelling.
23. i think i belong in the third group. general people do not concern me, neither do those i don't know or respect. but the few who i have trained my eyes on, the few who light my room with their presence, the few who raise my soul to the deck of the body--those are they who's watchful eye i crave. it's a temperamental relationship, a shifty happiness. for us members of the third party, our watching-eyes indicators need to constantly know someone is there. we seek eternal confirmation of affection. and we are the most sensitive to words misunderstood, for one miscommunication can drop us into a well of loneliness. our hands reach outward continually.
28. sad to be immortalized (as long as gravestones last, anyway) in death so against the way they lived their lives! only she had it right: make a final statement, declaring the way even one's body is to be handled. because the soul i believe goes on. it returns continuously and eternally, allowing our essence to not be destroyed by the fabric of the changing universe. so, i suppose, what happens to the body is not telling or tragic. ironic, maybe, but not important. in death only can the soul be free from the body, can shed it's mortal cage and simply be.
29. we simply cannot cease. living feels so permanent, so weighty, so important, that it is improbable to me that i will simply dissolve someday. that kitsch will remain as my last will and testament. even if i am not remembered here, somewhere my soul will live on, returning and repeating endlessly. es muss sein.
it must not stand that kitsch is an inevitable part of life. it is true: countries are run by it, cultures are upheld by it, people are motivated by it. but somewhere, sometimes, there are striking individuals who wage a daily battle against the collective, who have trained their minds to resist it at all costs. they are the ones it is imperative to count on to preserve the idea of ego: in practice, in teaching, in remembering. without the ones who push against the masses, who walk along the edge of the cliff, who fly high above us, there is no hope for a maintenance of dignity in the human race. without those who self-sacrifice for truth and freedom we are left spraying cans of aerosol fragrance and marching in the may day parade.
2. the lightest death in the heaviest circumstances. the heaviest death in the lightest circumstances. indeed, all other struggles are mere trivialities. but who is to weigh circumstance or death? he could have just as easily grown up with out this divine complex and cleaned up his shit just as everyone else. but in the end, perception and knowledge are the only things that matter, and so we allow him to have made the great and eternal end.
5. a categorical agreement with nature is nothing more than an acceptance and justification of the fallible guises people invent to explain the world in relation to their own ideology. you comment on how nice the outhouse smells as you're staring at the flower-shaped air freshener hanging over the hole. kitsch is decorating the inside of the stall and inviting all your friends to dinner parties in there.
8. shocking to read that "the brotherhood of man on earth will be possible only on a base of kitsch." it seems as though these are two spheres which are not only separate, but far removed from each other. upon further examination, we understand what he means: kitsch requires a unity of all people understanding, and relating to, and being emotionally affected by the sentiment triggered from an object, person, ideology, etc. a brotherhood of man requires all people to feel the same. this requires an end of culture and religion and personality and individuality: an end of words misunderstood. it seems this isn't a good idea at all. when we lose our individuality, our soul jumps ship off the deck of our body. faces appear the same, conversations don't change, there aren't any miscommunications. it brings about an end of disagreement, it brings about world peace. but at what cost? wouldn't we rather die fighting than cease to live?
10. for a very long time i've thought that i believed in marxism. (i would say communism, because Soviet Socialism was not even close to marx' discourses on communism, but my mother always gets angry and tells me that most people--meaning people of her generation--don't see the difference and would threaten to blacklist or deport me or some other ridiculousness.) i believe in an end of the exploitation of workers, an end to corporate control, an end to commercialism, financial security for the world, human rights, and the like. but there's something in me (my soul shouting very loudly on the deck of my body) that fears a loss of ego, a loss of culture and preference and individuality and disagreements.
12. maybe kitsch lives in all of us. maybe it's something we cannot escape--hardwired into our brain pathways since the time we accepted our culture. but if we recognize it for what it is, does it change it's meaning? maybe an awareness of kitsch in our lives, and an appreciation for the sentiment for our own purposes, not to be replicated or superimposed, can be at least non-harmful, if not beneficial.
15. funny that the french doctor protested someone else's kitsch in order to promote his own. he couldn't tolerate the woman appealing to her constituency, tugging at the heartstrings with freedom, democracy, and the American way. to him, that had no appeal. instead, he wanted to grab the heartstrings of his own followers using annoyance and lack of tolerance for the other side for some and the benefits of the world of medicine for the others. i'm sure, if given the chance, every other subgroup present would have wanted to say a few words in his own language of kitsch, but there simply wasn't time.
19. it seems there is some inherent personality trait in all of us that makes us desirable of being part of something bigger. for some it's country, for some it's religion, for some it's the popular circle in the schoolyard. most people feel very uncomfortable about being alone. we stand apart from the crowd, looking on with smug smiles on our faces, too good for their grand march. but when they start looking back at us is when we loose our cool. one by one faces will turn, gaits will slow, whispers will start. many will look around them and remember they are alone, and begin to loose their footing. they teeter precariously on the edge of the cliff, and start to move back toward and into the group. impressive are the ones who cast defiant glances back at the masses and deftly hop from rock to rock, whistling as they go. and the flock marches on, gaining strength from those around them and the ideologies represented by the metaphorical blood on their metaphorical flag, never once considering that the blood initially came from one who hopped alone on the outcropping of rock, never once realizing that their role in the parade is lighter than air.
22. some are condemned to playacting, some simply do not act. it all depends how much one values the cause versus his own small life. for some, the cause can be abandoned and they can simply return to their life. but if the cause is their life, there is nothing to return to, nothing that remains of who they are. and so they put their lives on the line and fight and fight and fight until they realize they are screaming at the air. still, some choose to continue yelling.
23. i think i belong in the third group. general people do not concern me, neither do those i don't know or respect. but the few who i have trained my eyes on, the few who light my room with their presence, the few who raise my soul to the deck of the body--those are they who's watchful eye i crave. it's a temperamental relationship, a shifty happiness. for us members of the third party, our watching-eyes indicators need to constantly know someone is there. we seek eternal confirmation of affection. and we are the most sensitive to words misunderstood, for one miscommunication can drop us into a well of loneliness. our hands reach outward continually.
28. sad to be immortalized (as long as gravestones last, anyway) in death so against the way they lived their lives! only she had it right: make a final statement, declaring the way even one's body is to be handled. because the soul i believe goes on. it returns continuously and eternally, allowing our essence to not be destroyed by the fabric of the changing universe. so, i suppose, what happens to the body is not telling or tragic. ironic, maybe, but not important. in death only can the soul be free from the body, can shed it's mortal cage and simply be.
29. we simply cannot cease. living feels so permanent, so weighty, so important, that it is improbable to me that i will simply dissolve someday. that kitsch will remain as my last will and testament. even if i am not remembered here, somewhere my soul will live on, returning and repeating endlessly. es muss sein.
it must not stand that kitsch is an inevitable part of life. it is true: countries are run by it, cultures are upheld by it, people are motivated by it. but somewhere, sometimes, there are striking individuals who wage a daily battle against the collective, who have trained their minds to resist it at all costs. they are the ones it is imperative to count on to preserve the idea of ego: in practice, in teaching, in remembering. without the ones who push against the masses, who walk along the edge of the cliff, who fly high above us, there is no hope for a maintenance of dignity in the human race. without those who self-sacrifice for truth and freedom we are left spraying cans of aerosol fragrance and marching in the may day parade.
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