An art revealed to no one

Have kept me mystified

Sleep well

who will break

and who will bend

Sleep well, maestro

[Ennio Morricone – The Trio]

bowels to water

104 years ago today in 1916, Captain Charles May writes a letter to his wife Bessie two weeks before being sent to his death on July 1st in the Battle of the Somme.

“I must not allow myself to dwell on the personal – there is no room for it here. Also it is demoralising. But I do not want to die. Not that I mind for myself. If it be that I am to go, I am ready. But the thought that I may never see you or our darling baby again turns my bowels to water. I cannot think of it with even the semblance of equanimity.

My one consolation is the happiness that has been ours. Also my conscience is clear that I have always tried to make life a joy for you. I know at least that if I go you will not want. This is something. But it is the thought that we may be cut off from one another which is so terrible and that our babe may grow up without my knowing her and without her knowing me. It is difficult to face. And I know your life without me would be a dull blank. You must never let it become wholly so. For to you will be left the greatest charge in all the world; the upbringing of our baby.

God bless that child, she is the hope of life to me. My darling, au revoir. It may well be that you will only have to read these lines as ones of passing interest. On the other hand, they may well be my last message to you. If they are, know through all your life that I loved you and baby with all my heart and soul, that you two sweet things were just all the world to me. I pray God I may do my duty, for I know, whatever that may entail, you would not have it otherwise.”

The Three stood calm and silent

„Przez lata słysząc te same odpowiedzi na moje pytania o ulubione książki, zacząłem pytać studentów, kogo stawiają sobie za bohaterów. I tutaj reakcją jest zazwyczaj milczenie. Dlaczego ktokolwiek miałby mieć bohaterów? Każdy powinien być sobą, a nie przykrawać się do cudzego szablonu. Wspiera ich w tym przekonaniu ideologia samoafirmacji: zerwanie z kultem bohaterów jest oznaką dojrzałości. Ustanawiają dla siebie własne wartości (…). Pobrzmiewająca w nas pogarda dla heroizmu to tylko jedna z wersji błędnie pojmowanej zasady demokratyzmu, która odmawia ludziom wielkości i postuluje, aby każdy czuł się dobrze we własnej skórze, nie musząc cierpieć niepochlebnych dla siebie porównań (…). Można czuć tylko litość wobec młodych ludzi, którzy nie mają kogo podziwiać i naśladować, których pragnienie wielkiego męstwa jest sztucznie gaszone”.

Allan Bloom

The essence of jiu

„Ten spokój mnie przeraża.”

Greatest defiance

In the utterly meaningless universe, acting as if things have ultimate meaning, is in itself an act of greatest defiance.

To the bitter end

I told you once, I told you a thousand times, no regrets, no remorse
Do I regret? Not a single moment
Will I ever repent? Will I ever repent?

Years have passed between us, some would say that they have not been kind
Yet these are the scars of war, and we remain yet we stand bloodied yet unbowed

So here’s to comrades near and far
Who’ve raised a glass, raised hell
Years have passed, closer to the grave
But this is the song we chose to sing
To the bitter end, to the end, to the bitter end

you barking at my tree

So here we are again young templar, you barking at my tree. You seem to be confused about a lot, so let me tell you about the psychology of so-called modern man.

The root of a tragedy called modern-man existence is an effect of decades of secularization – modern-man got himself to believe that „evil” is strictly a religious category and thus it doesn’t exist within the semantic horizon of new, enlightened era. Give yourself a moment to realize what profound effect does such turn have.

There is no evil – there are just misunderstandings. If you go to the very bottom of The Other psyche, you will find out that we are all fundamentally the same – and a road to that progressive enlightenment is in a pseudo-buddist way to let go of all that bias that holds us back. So here you see already what is the price for modern gówno-intellectual – the more they can „let go” of things that they suppose to cherish, like tradition, history, religion, sense of belonging and pride, the more they see themselves as those who „break the barriers”. Because you see, modern-man might believe evil does not exist, but if there is anything that is as close to it, it would be what resembles Meaningful Narrative. What they hate the most is Meaning. Meaning transforms you. It drives you. And, which is the worst, it might also drive you to defend it or fight for it. And weren’t all greatest humanitarian catastrophes of a history done by people who were blindly driven by their sense of what is right and meaningful to pursue? Understand young templar – to them, you are a potential extremist every time you have a firm belief in something, every time you cherish one thing over the other.

And here’s how you can see why what seems to be an absolute peak of modern-man philosophy is to say „there is no black and white, only shades of gray”, „truth is always somewhere in the middle” etc. Ever wondered why centuries of philosophers worked tirelessly trying to formulate something what can accurately describe the reality of our existence, but recent ages seem to be only interested in deconstructing all the past attempts and perceive it as the highest and most noble achievement? And did you ever wonder why every most tiny attempt of greatness and GRAVITAS are immediately shunned upon and ridiculed?

I will tell you, young templar. Modern-man doesn’t really give a flying fuck about what I wrote above. It is just post-factum rationalization he tells himself to the mirror everyday. What modern-man sense the most is something he cannot admit – its his own inadequacy. He reads of the noble and heroic deeds of our ancestors and he knows, deep inside he knows, that if the weight of a history came onto him as it did onto them, he would have never been able to remain unbowed as they did. He knows his profound weakness and each time he sees those who were proven to be thoroughbred, he NEEDS to ridicule them as fables to minimize his own discomfort. For the greatest conclusion of evil not being there is a fact that there is nothing to really FIGHT for or against. There are no sides to take, since there is nothing that is right or wrong anymore. And this is precisely what weak being strives for. Do not mistake this for peace, for it is not noble strive for peace if you are profoundly unable to fight – it is a loathed necessity.

So remember young templar, next time you see a modern-man speak; watch him closely. Watch him closely and you will see his gówno-spirituality for what it is – a mask for his fundamental existential impotence.

a bizzare little person

[TempleOS Hymn Risen Piano Cover – In Honor Of Terry Davis – By David Eddy]

Maybe I’m just, like, a bizzare little person who walks back and forth