the thin blue line errol morris (funes the memorious)

we are all funes the memorious (funes was famous because he could picture the world as it was every moment for the last X years, but he could not generate abstract thought. the leaf of 7:54 was different than the leaf of 7:53. there was no "leaf", a priori).

for funes, on one side of the brain is the times of all things, in sequence. on the other is the pictures of every event.

the idea to take some of those connections and reconfigure them into a new abstraction was repellent to him.

so the question becomes, what do each of us find repellent?

for funes, obviously, it was the question of generating an abstraction, any abstraction.

and for lots of people, working exclusively with abstract ideas is difficult.

so what was wrong with the cops who arrested and charged randall adams with homicide.

a cop had been killed and they needed to find their killer.

if they pinned it on randall adams they didn't care.

they, including the DA Mulder, went to extreme lengths to frame this innocent man.

To them, Adams had been taken on the host of the abstraction. they were not proscecuting a man, they were procecuting a vacuity, a not-being. He was foreign, inanimate. They did not need to rationalize that his death in the electric chair would mean nothing -- that belief was immanent to their being. Nothing in the world would be lost in exchange for his life.
"Without effort, he had learned English, French, Portuguese, Latin. I suspect, nevertheless, that he was not very capable of thought. To think is to forget a difference, to generalize, to abstract. In the overly replete world of Funes there were nothing but details, almost contiguous details." -- from "Funes, His Memory" by Borges


x-ecutioners at their best murdering the classix


"yo first of all son arson sparking a bussing call me dopesnatcher hard to capture militant like a convict manifesting working like appliances sciences try to flee by the doorway back to the essence have you restin throwing n_s off airplanes cause cash rules analyze me like a chain reaction"

"break on the break" eddie henderson inside you piano


The dopeness I link, I guarantee delight

tip of the pin to http://www.people.fas.harvard.edu/~hhsu/blog.html



There are men who, from a lack of experience or out of apathy, turn mockingly away from such phenomena as from a “sickness of the people,” with a sense of their own health and filled with pity. These poor people naturally do not have any sense of how deathly and ghost-like this very “Health” of theirs sounds, when the glowing life of the Dionysian throng roars past them. Under the magic of the Dionysian, not only does the bond between man and man lock itself in place once more, but also nature itself, now matter how alienated, hostile, or subjugated, rejoices again in her festival of reconciliation with her prodigal son, man. The earth freely offers up her gifts, and the beasts of prey from the rocks and the desert approach in peace. The wagon of Dionysus is covered with flowers and wreaths. Under his yolk stride panthers and tigers.

On the other hand, we do not need to speak merely hypothetically when we have to expose the immense gap which separates the Dionysian Greeks from the Dionysian barbarians. In all quarters of the old world (setting aside here the newer worlds), from Rome to Babylon, we can confirm the existence of Dionysian celebrations, of a type, at best, related to the Greeks in much the same way as the bearded satyr whose name and characteristics are taken from the goat is related to Dionysus himself. Almost everywhere, the central point of these celebrations consisted of an exuberant sexual promiscuity, whose waves flooded over all established family practices and traditional laws. The wildest bestiality of nature was here unleashed, creating an abominable mixture of lust and cruelty, which has always seemed to me the real witches' potion.

The language of song and poetry of such a doubly defined celebrant was for the Homeric Greek world something new and unheard of. Dionysian music especially awoke in that world fear and terror. If music was apparently already known as an Apollonian art, this music, strictly speaking, was a rhythmic pattern like the sound of waves, whose artistic power had developed for presenting Apollonian states of mind. The music of Apollo was Doric architecture expressed in sound, but only in intimate tones, characteristic of the cithara [a traditional stringed instrument}. The un-Apollonian character of Dionysian music keeps such an element of gentle caution at a distance, and with that turns music generally into emotionally disturbing tonal power, a unified stream of melody, and the totally incomparable world of harmony.

To grasp this total unleashing of all symbolic powers, man must already have attained that high level of freedom from the self which seeks to express itself symbolically in those forces. Because of this, the dithyrambic servant of Dionysus will understand only someone like himself. With what astonishment must the Apollonian Greek have gazed at him! With an amazement which was all the greater as he sensed with horror that all this may not be really foreign to him, that even his Apollonian consciousness was covering the Dionysian world in front of him, like a veil.

-- Nietzsche, from the Birth of Tragedy