A truth is simply a lie that we do not yet know yet is a lie. All truths are infact lies, this is the real truth, this too is a lie.
I blame my computer for making me forget what it was like to be bored, genuinely bored. Up until ten years back I knew what boredom was, now I only know restlessness. The machine is fundamentally different from me, because it isn’t sophisticated enough to be bored. It doesn’t understand the long routed, intuitive, stupid way in which I learn and understand things. It moves so terribly fast, it is always happy in a sickening sort of way.
Future generations will not know what boredom is, there is always something to see on the internet, a movie to watch, a tv series, an article to read, and the effects are already there to see, with metros filled with people staring at their screens, clicking photos of themselves, the poor fools. It is an incessant evasion of the self, the screen before me dematerialises me and thus allows me to escape myself.
The internet is useful, that is its biggest problem, so is the laptop, but there isn’t a thing I regret more than having my laptop. It is like a bad marriage that you stay in for the kids. I wish terribly that I could do without it, so I could go back to being bored, alas there isn’t an app for boredom.
Wise is he who manages to escape himself by trying to find himself.
I believe that society has to evolve to a point where everybody does partly manual labor, and part desk jobs. It is absurd sitting on a desk everyday for the whole day, it is also absurd doing manual labor for endless hours.
3-4 hours of reasonable manual work, and 3-4 hours of a desk job seems much more reasonable for the body and the mind.
Saying that religion should be a personal affair is contradictory to the definition of religion, which is to link people together, unless this idea itself is part of this religion.
If I ever become I teacher I wish to teach the only subject students really need to learn to get through school. I feel I can teach it because I have never learned it myself. For it is precisely because we fail at something that we are a proper judge of it, as the good Wilde said.The course shall be called Pipeaulogy 101.
Always put form above substance till substance takes form. Always be profoundly superficial when those around you are foolishly trying to be profound, when in fact all they ever end up being is superficially profound. Structure everything, consider the structure as an end in itself, as an art. The Eiffel Tower, where the structure becomes content. The importance of image, the importance of shiny colours. There is nothing that cannot be done without Pipeau, and if there is such a thing, it simply shouldn’t be done.
The whole world depends on Pipeau, Pipeau allows us the minimum of thinking to do things, it is to the men of action that the world belongs, those that are insensitive, those that only think enough to win, it allows us to go beyond the exhausting search for truth, because Pipeau allows us to construct truth itself. Pipeau is behind all religions, it is the fiction behind the bedrock of lies our lives depend on. He who masters the Pipeau know how to make the cloud of misinformation and lies, that constitute an opinion, rain on his fields, so that his crop can grow.
Pipeau like God is its own definition, and therefore cannot be defined.
Today I try and write a poem
but tomorrow there shall be no need
Tomorrow theoretical probabilists
shall provide me with the deed.
An algorithm shall be found
to put my poetry to shame
for how can I compare to what
its inventors will give their name
For what is there in a poem.
a rhythm, a rhyme, a song
to say the things we all know true
without the clumsy lack of form
No lover shall pine no more
for want of the right word
The machine will know just what to say
to move the girl to metallic tears
Impossible you say to me,
I say you, a technical challenge at best,
for all you need is to put a number,
and the theorems shall do the rest
And how this number shall be chosen
doesn’t matter, can’t you see
for what is the stock market today
but dancing numbers and nothing else
On this day man shall die,
a brutal poetry-death
for in only this way can his spirit be lost
when this first poem shall be read.