Soon you will forget everything...Soon everything will forget you
Teufels_Hofnarr
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Name: Francisco
Birthday: 3/26/1987
Gender: Male


Interests: Military History, Heavy Metal, Reading, Writing, Wine, Women, Song etc...
Expertise: Making pretty females laugh...or at least nervously giggle.
Occupation: Other
Industry: Textiles


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AIM: Teufels Hofnarr


Member Since: 3/3/2005

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Saturday, November 28, 2009

Currently
The Harvard Classics; The Apology, Phaedo, and Crito of Plate; The Golden Sayings of Epicetus; The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius
By Epictetus, & Aurelius, Marcus .. Eliot, Charles W. (editor) Plato
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In the tradition of Marcus Aurelius

From my father:

An understanding of the essential beauty of perfection and the profound ugliness of failure. A life of affluence, where I never had to work a day in my life and was easily granted all the material possesions and gifts I could ever think to want. Knowing that nothing in this world is more important than family, than blood, and that I ought never disgrace my family name nor ignore my obligations as the eldest son. The strong example of what it is to be a man, husband, and father as presented by him. A desire to emulate the iron man, full of dedication and tireless in the performance of his duties when it came to earning an honest living. An appreciation for hunting, and the subsequent rights of gun owners.

A ruthless precision in the performance of tasks assigned to me. A pitiless attitude in the face of the failures of someone's duties, especially my own. The willingness to strike first, when in conflict with another man. A grim attitude in the face of adversity, along with the will to have the ends justify the means when it comes to my own defense.

An impetuous and highly intelectual cynicism that kept me from ever being just another sheep, encouraging me to see the world for what it really is and not what I'd prefer it to be. A hatred for communism, socialism, and any other political philosophy that seeks to exchange freedom for safety. An appreciation of just what a marvelous country America is, and what a godforsaken shithole Venezuela is. The conservative tendancy to expect the worst, so as to always be best prepared for it. The ability to aproach every situation without undue passion or emotion, and thus with perfect reason.

Atheism. Fortitude. Strength.

From my mother:

A profound appreciation for science, particularly in the biological and medical fields when it came to genetics and inherited diseases. An eager ear, ever willing to listen to my hopes and dreams. A home that was never without warm love and affection, unconditional and perfect. A resolute sense of morality and conscience, never to be compromised by convenience or the will of the vulgar majority.

A love for nature, and the cultivation of clean and beautiful homes. A love for writing and pedagogy, a desire to become a true wordsmith to entertain and educate others. Patience in the face of ignorance, love in the face of understanding. A great understanding of the theory of evolution, along with a love of spirituality. The power to aproach every given situation with a love and integrity so pure it would not seem genuine in anyone else. The maternal side, ever willing to be self-sacrificing and forgiving. The sensitive side, the capacity to feel things for others.

Empathy. Compassion. Unconditional love.


Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Currently
Book of Lies
By Aleister Crowley
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Soneto Corto

When my love dances in colored light

I hold her strong, though I keep apart

‘Lest I be swallowed up in sick delight

And crave again that palest heart

 lips

Ever longing on her face a smile to see

Brighten the world, and even me

 


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Currently
Trickster
By Kidneythieves
S+M
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The Beast with Two Backs

Ich schon wieder.

Two xangans, http://roxics.xanga.com/ and http://serenadante.xanga.com/, write about sex all the time. Their posts are generally well written, and I find them fascinating because they couldn't be more different from what I think about the subject.

To put it bluntly, I often feel revolted by sex. Simply disgusted. What is it, when you really think about it?

sadkg

Sex is semen, saliva, and sweat. Sex is moaning, awkward apologizing, and cheap come-ons. All your insecurities come rushing out and you see people for what they really are: vain, horny little rabbits more desperate to impress themselves than the person they're sleeping with. It's nothing pure, nothing beautiful. Mixed in with all the vaunted "passion" is the the desire to rip, thrust, and hurt. A woman pulls her nails against a man's back until it bleeds, and a man fucks a woman against her cervix, bringing her to cry out...and what?


They. Do. Not. Care. Lots of us even LOVE it.

I hate the fact that nature and evolution make me have this instinct. I hate how people glorify something that's essentially bestial, crude, and senseless. Sex reveals just how hollow the human conceit of being something more than an animal actually is. S&M? That's just a way for people to act out their deepest fears, to strike back at all the guilt laid into their hearts by society since the day they were born. It's pathetic, sad, and alluring all at the same time. I think it's ridiculous how our vapid and stultified culture keeps obsessing over something as old and insipid as sex.

Truly, I wish sex didn't exist at all. It'd be nice to live in a world without rape, where people loved each other for who they were and not just what they want below the belt. But that's fantasy, Dulcinea's territory. You'd be better off jousting with a windmill than looking for that sort of world.

Love can make sex beautiful, sure. Love makes everything beautiful. In my opinion, it's the only thing that can justify human life. It's a sense of peace, devotion, and ideal reverence powerful enough to blot out every petty worry and fear. It's a blessed connection, a unity with something perfect and sublime. But it's enough on its own; it doesn't need sex. It's possible to have sex with someone a million times and never love them, just like it's possible to love someone enough to die for them and never have sex with them. They're two different things.

My worry is that contemporary culture has become so exuberantly immature that you can scarcely find a young person from my generation who understands the difference. I've met so many people my age with no faith in marriage and even less in the opposite sex. This goes for men and women; I have a rather bitter, chauvanistic friend who can't seem to ever be honest with women, and a female friend who's so guarded that any guy she dates usually gives up out of frustration. All the while the desire for sex is still there, lingering like a hungry ghost in their heads. There's nothing uglier than the look of lust mixed with tired apathy that you see on most people my age. Deep down, we know it's pointless, but our attention is fixed on it just the same.

This has been a rather odd post of mine. I don't think I've ever blogged about sex before, especially in such a negative light. Could it be I'm getting a bit more conservative in my old age? I might favor liberal politics and think old-fashioned prudery is pointless, but you'll never convince me that sex is anything good in and of itself.

I'm still not sold on celibacy either. But that's neither here nor there.

I hope nobody takes this as a personal critique against them.


Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Currently
Of Faith, Power and Glory
By VNV Nation
Art of Conflict
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Refuge for the Soul

Half a year without a post of substance or any meaningful writing! What's gotten into me?

12731277

This would have never happened a year ago, not in a million years. I simply love writing too much. I need it, depend on it, and cherish it as my one and only artistic talent. Writing gives me integrity; in person I am false and shy, little more than a stammering, stuttering idiot who only tells people what they want to hear. I'm rarely honest with my feelings, not even to myself, but writing's charm is that it offers you the luxury of taking your time and carefully letting some art creep into your words, something more beautiful and real than the gibbering chatter that passes for everyday speech and conversation.

When I write I feel my spirit swell.

I've been thinking of God a great deal lately, and always through the metaphor of an introverted writer. I think I know why: I've always envied His infinite power to create and imagine, and want some of that for myself. Ever since I was a child, I've felt bored and sickened by the world and always preferred to daydream and escape. I've tried for years to discipline myself through Stoic philosophy and strenuous exercise, but I doubt it's had much effect on me beyond muddling up my thoughts and making my muscles aching sore. I've been wanting something I can't express for so long, and every time I put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard!) I see myself trying to reach something sublime, infinite, and perfect. I never feel more religious than I do when I'm writing a poem or song.

The past half-year has been difficult for me, full of a whole mess of things it would take forever to express. There are moments where life seems so desolate it's a torture to imagine tomorrow. I hate those days.

For now, it's enough for me to write here that much of the past six months was spent abusing alcohol, Vicodin, and taking anti-depressent drugs. I'm currently not on speaking terms with any of the girls I dated my last semester of school, one of whom I'll always regret sleeping with because she was a virgin before I met her. I know she'll remember me forever, and it makes me feel ashamed that I couldn't have been more of a better man for her. She was expecting more than I had the guts to give. 

On the bright side, I graduated from college with two majors and a 3.8 GPA, and was luckier than most of the students in my graduating class in that I was able to find work just a week after finishing school. I'm currently making $36,000 a year and still hope to get into law school soon, probably in 2011, meaning I'll be a lawyer by the time I'm 27 years old. Criminal law sounds the most interesting, but I could change my mind. Who knows?

The anti-depressants never did anything for me but make me nauseous and spoil the fun of drinking. I never needed them; Art is the soul's finest refuge, and I'm coming home. From now on, I'll stick to writing more regularly in this blog. Anyone who likes is free to comment and critique.

More than anything, I want to have somewhere to focus my spirit and effort. I can't think of anywhere better.


Thursday, March 26, 2009

Nine Inch Nails/Jane's Addiction Tour

I just posted about this Nine Inch Nails/Jane's Addiction tour for 250 credits. You can earn free credits too!



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