pSYCHOsEMANTiCs

Pedagogical Incontinence

(Jan 22/06)
Other than Friedrich, A.C. T.C. T.D. N, few people speak in a language I understand, or care to. The pepsinate of ‘depth psychology’ (the lacerate of metaphysical hooliganism) a fearful yet fearless man, staring into the charnel-abyss, the slaughterhouse of self-reflection, and seeing beyond the simulacra, deep into the id-eulogy, the irreverence of self, with no chance for redemption or Kantian reification. Tom Waits is a Nietzsche, a mountain climber and a tightrope walker. There is really no one else, no one worth the bother of comparison. Said, I wouldn’t want to belong to an organization that had me as a member, good-standing or not. Better yet, I wouldn’t want to look into the abyss without seeing myself reflected back. The abyss is self (perhaps –less) and self is the abyss, the abyssal-self with an eye for imperfection and contra-sodomy. By this make reference to the reification of pedagogical sodomy, the ass-fuck that puts an end to, or a stopper in, or a way out of, Wittgenstein’s fly-bottle.

A Deleuzian a posteriori assault, a good hard penetrating graze up between the cleave of the ass, a prostate apostate, a forced and ungentle incontinence. If only, just if only if only just this one time, time immoral and decanting. For what is morality but a means of currency for the rich and immoral, the concupiscent and pusillanimous, the cunt-weary and culturally backward. Foucault was onto it long before it was fashionable to be so, but sadly enough the dispirited Gomorrah died before we took him seriously. Now we pay the price, a costly and most timely one at that. The more capitalism presses forward, the further backward culture falls. Read your Heidegger you pedagogical sulks, before technology becomes culture, all that’s left of Shakespeare, Joyce, Alighieri, M. de C. Saavedra, Mozart (of course), Bach, Ludwig et al. Sorry sad state of affairs indeed, and getting sorrier by the minute, yes indeed, yes, I said yes, yes…