In search of the calibrated sperit, educated by Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Pessoa & Whitman. A misanthrope with a heart of gold, here to exalt melancholic moods, slow dance with philosophies, excavate ethics, and on less adventurous days, question what it is to be a father. I am here everyday to try and document something true and meaningful. And to efface that last sentence, here is the quote from which this blog derives its name:
“Once upon a time, in some out of the way corner of that universe which is dispersed into numberless twinkling solar systems, there was a star upon which clever beasts invented knowing. That was the most arrogant and mendacious minute of “world history,” but nevertheless, it was only a minute. After nature had drawn a few breaths, the star cooled and congealed, and the clever beasts had to die. One might invent such a fable, and yet he still would not have adequately illustrated how miserable, how shadowy and transient, how aimless and arbitrary the human intellect looks within nature. There were eternities during which it did not exist. And when it is all over with the human intellect, nothing will have happened.”
On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense (1873) - Nietzsche
I have a new book for sale entitled Melancholics Anonymous. It is poetry & prose to exalt the melancholic rebel: ”Come ye Pessoas, ye Bukowskis, ye underground men. Come ye Plaths, ye Sextons, ye adaptless women. Come let us be lonely together”
My creative writing can be analyzed here
Feel free to ask me anything, anonymously or otherwise. I don’t bite.
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