Their social philosophies share some key traits with mine, especially one's focus on talent versus the other's on ambition, so I understand those choices.
- Celeste likes this
Jump to content
I know ultimately, without any self-doubt, that those who have attained confidence have already undergone and overcome Hell earlier in their lives and know suffering better than those in the midst of it. Confidence in the untested is in fact the transparent, rigid, hollow, glass shell named arrogance that shatters into sharp shards under pressure. This journey through Hell is what tempers the glass into bold, malleable steel, strengthening after every infernal trial. This is the same confidence that eliminates all fear and denotes escape from the collective thought. The same escape from Samsara sought by eastern monks—Nirvana. The same journey through Hell Dante bore to experience Beatrice and the beatific vision in Heaven. The closest dialogue between man and God.
The three primordial Moirai: Luck, Talent, and Willpower weave the imponderable tapestry of human destiny. A nebulous lottery are the first twoーthe eldest a capricious, sadistic Quixote; the middle a headstrong deterministーa compassionate reader the third. The cruel determinism of the elders, beyond human interference, is overcome only by appeasing the dreamy reader. Inspired by the actor's touching fortitude in the face of God himself's firmest domination, Willpower bestows the actor a rare, divine right to resist God. These inspiring stories are passed down ad infinitum as solid stardust steeples for the yet starry-eyed posterity so that they, too, can one day confront the sardonic nebulae as their own, proper arbiters.
Posted by Featherine Augustus Aurora on 09 February 2018 - 09:23 PM
Here is Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius as a file to be downloaded. This is the longest of Borges' stories in this project, and it connects well to The Library of Babel; those who have read the predecessor should find it in their artistic interest to juxtapose the works.
This will be the main literary discussion until February 17, 2018. For those who arrive here in the near or distant future, feel free to prompt a discussion regardless and others will join graciously
Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius discusses worldbuilding, especially outside fiction, as a creature of consensus. This Berkeleyan ideaーsubjective idealismーis the obverse of materialism and goes like this: reality is how the subject's mind perceives and understands it. The table is dependent on the subject seeing it and never fully exists without the mind's approval, as do all its features. This logically continues to information fed by others, which exist in the same mode and plane as truths. A new person exists truly as the rumors and information you hear before you see them; the person's conceptual avatar is made up of a homogeneous thought substance, where mere rumors and direct experiences meld together into for a complete synthesis
The subjective idealist predicate explains Tlön's graduation from rumor to invisible country. As a mere rumor, its existence is chimerical and not necessarily true to anyone but its few demiurges; as more of its mythos is published, curious onlookers accept the more sincere source of information as a matter of fact, and a place named Tlön, with enough of this, will find itself taken for as real as the moon or arctic poles, which are, too, thoroughly documented and undoubtedly considered real but never experienced by the onlookers (us). The keenness of this story's input is in the universality of this human behavior. Most beliefs are chimerical leaps of faith founded on what amount to mere rumors.
Remember that this is only meant to be a prompt to stimulate your mind and prime it to useful traits to acknowledge to enrich your insight on the work.
Posted by Featherine Augustus Aurora on 02 February 2018 - 03:09 AM
Glad you're looking forward to it :)
You're a weird case for me honestly. My gut says you're one of the few members on the site I don't really get along with, but I know that we're not really on bad terms. I think it's your speech patterns. Something about them irks me, but I wouldn't want you speaking any other way than the way you do. Anyway, that aside, I generally have nothing but respect for you and a lot of your efforts on the site. Your plan for breathing life back into Film & Literature especially deserves mad props. Everyone says it will be a match to watch if we're ever up to duke it out in the YMB, and I agree.
You know, I was thinking about how the predicate for interesting results is the individual's methodology in overcoming challenges, but if the directionality is reversed and the challenge itself is interesting, then the fabric of the methodology can only be taken from an interesting cloth. As you know, a person's language is in certain flux; diction and grammar playfulness tend to be a factor of the individual's readership, and this extended to when I became an avid reader (you'll find something similar if you read Polaris' or any other avid reader's writing). Then, if you acknowledge language as an art, you would accept this as the violinist extemporizing for the sake of his artistic love. Thank you for appreciating my irksome speech patterns.
And thank you for your respect. I'm on the warpath for whatever killed literature, and when I find it, I can perforate into creative writing. It's all very strategic and I'd love to explain it personally sometime.
It will be something to watch, though I'll have to get through Broseph first.
Continuing from the bit on explaining my plan, if you'd like to make an effort at direct/private communication, given you don't even know how we get along, I'd also be willing to make an effort to reach out.
Posted by Featherine Augustus Aurora on 01 February 2018 - 12:25 AM
I think this phones home for me as what I would think the world to be, we cannot truly know the end of something unless it has come to an end, therefore surely it is infinite until it is not, which I guess in turn is a statement that condescends itself.
This reminds me of a discussion I had with an old friend last September of the duality between rationality and emotion; until a situation is in hindsight as a detached investigation, there is no certainty of actions being made in the name of rationalism or emotionalism: pressing forth an argument, one's steps could seem to tread the stable ground of sheer logic, but only until the psychosis is dispelled through reflection and the ground found to be quicksand—a reflexive tantrum.
Is a fantastic way to describe death, whilst your conscious may not exist any longer your body is still fueling a cycle Ad infinitum, your body decomposes and is then used as food for bugs and other creatures, it helps the soil grow to be healthy, beauty.
With hope comes sadness, that is the way of life, to some extent and I feel it does summarise the concept of searching for knowledge and not finding answers you seek.
These correlate as paradigms of an ultimate celestial balance. Emotion as an energetic resource transforms from hope to sadness like heat from a heavy impact. The heat transfers with the cool air and disperses in the same vain that a particle of hope may one day too become despair. That despair becomes depression in some and resolution in others, and disperses infinitely as other emotions and physical changes. It's the truest sense of immortality.
Not gonna lie, this line gave me goosebumps. Really puts into perspective the scale of the universe not as one big thing, but as an endless journey of discovery and wonder. When one finds answers to one thing, they end up asking many other questions that they have to find answers for. An endless cycle that keeps going even after death, as Tormey said:
It's good to see this is in consonance between the readers. That's an appropriate understanding of the descriptors—Borges loved writing about writing.
The extraordinary thing is that this doesn't even cover a small fraction of what the library contains, let alone what has yet to be found. That being said, while this library could hold all the answers to every problem, it remains sourceless of itself. It's almost as if the universe embodies selflessness for mankind for the sake of being appreciated and admired in their own unique ways.
This, too, is found in the thoughts that birthed this passage of yours. Your attempted communication concatenates and bruteforces ineffable concepts into linguistic containers. The thoughts, preceding the semiotics, are never purely uttered and are thus never truly understood; they are marred and thrust into coffins, the murderers cloy damning, sympathetic dirges and publish sciolist epitaphs. Of course, these, too, are encompassed by the library, but the sum of understandings is always infinite.
Now we move to the fourth dimension: time. Like the other dimensions and their horizons, time passes into a concept where four-dimensional timelines of our lives are passing through a three-dimensional horizon, being expressed in a way that we were made to understand.
Time does not denote a dimension; it denotes changes in space. Should spacial change cease, so too shall time. Should time cease, so too shall changes in space.
It's good to see you're both enjoying it, though. Be sure to expand on your opinion of the piece (how good it was) in the main thread to give me direction, since the reading list will change if the reception is tepid or less.
Posted by Featherine Augustus Aurora on 31 January 2018 - 01:21 AM
Here lies The Library of Babel's PDF: the first reading of many, and a legendary, seven-page piece.
This will be the main literary discussion until February 8, 2018. For those who arrive here in the near or distant future, feel free to prompt a discussion regardless and others will join graciously.
I'll typically spur a discussion with a terse interpretation of a piece of the work I find interesting; the new reader can explore the piece without the subconscious pressure of an omniscient authority who induces dogma (pitiful for any artistic venture).
The very library that encompasses the universe is found in front of a mirror:
"In the vestibule there is a mirror, which faithfully duplicates appearances. Men often infer from this mirror that the Library is not infinite-if it were, what need would there be for that illusory replication?"
Borges, a lover of Schopenhauer, was no doubt aware of the 108 Upanishads—holy Vedas of the Vedanta Hinduist school. Eastern religions akin to spiritual philosophies, the Upanishads teach the reader of the illusory dichotomy between the Atman (the self) and the Brahman (the ultimate reality or transcendent self; the universal, Spinozan apeirodimensional fractal). The outward universe is shown to ultimately stem from the self—the trees are a magical illusion, as are the atoms and galaxy clusters, and in symphony, the Atman unites with the Brahman. They are initially a dichotomy as subject to object but are ultimately subservient to the same will (Schopenhauer's World as Will and Representation is precisely about this).
The library is a compendium of all linguistically-encompassed human cognition: an infinitude of tomes consisting of an infinitude of linguistic combinations results in all possible expressions preexisting (this is more so Platonic). The mirror is meant to show that the library (the universe/Brahman) is, in fact, a reflection of the self (Atman) in the way that reality is a reflection of art. These connect because art (effable expression of the soul) is the self's precedent reality manifest while the mundane, scientific "reality" inspires—as a simulacrum—for the artist and is never directly experienced. The mirror is in the vestibule (a chamber beside an opening) like the senses are the window to the mind, and thus the Atman a mere illusion of the Brahman, though this placement seems merely symbolistic to me.
This was an impromptu example of one of the genres of content expected in these discussions (particularly of the philosophical ilk) and was meant to help prime the reader's mind for one sort of thinking they'd have to do to truly experience the piece in question (don't betray yourself, of course). I'm more interested in what the participants want to bring to the table, though, so I encourage discussion of passages and themes the reader finds interesting be invoked by the reader when he becomes a participant. Don't wait for my permission or agreement—you're free voyagers. Of course, if the sort of thing I wrote is what appeases you, do quote and inquire, but always remember to bring what you find interesting up.
For anyone who wishes to participate, you are free to as of the moment this is posted and you have read the appropriate story.
Posted by Featherine Augustus Aurora on 30 January 2018 - 01:17 AM
Voicing my interest. Curious, do you have any reasoning for this order of reading for Borges' stories, or for this selection of stories in general?
Yes. The first three (Babel to Funes) are some of his most legendary pieces, and The Library of Babel is one of the most eminent even among those, introducing philosophical themes and discussions on the very nature of writing and controversy that pervade the rest of his writings. It's thus a strong introduction not only to his themes, but to his writing style, and I personally find it among his most compelling pieces.
Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius introduces not only his fascination with Berkeleyan philosophy, but expands on Borges' investigation of writing itself. It's almost as mystifying as The Library of Babel and is an apt successor for those whom its predecessor grasps.
Funes, the Memorious introduces more directly his South American influence, which is at the vanguard of some of his pieces and provides accompaniment to the majority of his other ones (including those above). Its themes are detached from the previous two and, because of that, should this project succeed, Funes' will be a recent piece when the writing aspect is put into motion, its extraneity the impetus for totally new writing prompts.
The Circular Ruins presents a return to form, thematically speaking, but also converges the themes of all its predecessors. Particularly thematically symphonious to Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius, it discusses the nature of writing in time—the obverse of The Library of Babel's infinite, spacial discourse on writing. Its psychological discussions are now reminiscent of Funes, which brings it all together.
Finally, Death and the Compass was chosen because it's my favorite of Borges' stories and, should the reader find himself intrigued by Borges, it provides that legendary labyrinthine imagery and ideation Borges is famous for. Written like the murder mystery classics, it should as well bestow the reader a well-earned repose from the concatenated themes in the other stories. Death and the Compass, with an amazing verisimilitude amidst befuddling yet tantalizing imagery, should end the journey through his works perfectly, like the accentual red pillows in an otherwise achromatic living room.