. . Do you have any idea how many people there are in the
world who like to force stuff on people and have stuff forced
on them? Tons! And then they make a fuss . . .
Where does life-negation lie, a question here construed as curiously pursuing that particular location (lair) at which a certain life-negation (there alluding to a jargon in Nietzsche’s oeuvre) may be said to veil itself or could be found lodging, is a question of utmost tension; and the response is no else than: life-negation lies in that which is European; where else but in the European.
In the European: and yet not so easy. For what follows such response to the question, whatever that may be, would yet be another explanation. It is in the efforts of explanation, proof, corroboration, justification—precisely: refutations—where life-negation itself feeds on. That which is European consists in that surreptitious escape, consciously or unconsciously, to a dominant herd morality against which Nietzsche’s aphorisms inveigh. The jargon of life-negation is that escape to a dominant herd morality which is European morality, or that intervening effort on the part of European mind to surreptitiously escape his damnation, his suffering—that is, his world fate.
Continue reading “Apropos Life Negation [Revised]”
To fight for words
To stumble and lose
In my twisted tongue
Fragile words, and few.
Monday did not let me lose face when it let me pass through the day unscathed and unharmed. I scrambled for words at the back of my tongue, hoping to find a perfect kind of articulation for two class reports that were due that day. And I did find words, but only remnants from this self-made word wars in my head. And before my eyes I saw shards of glass, scraps of metal, bloodstains, bleeding.
Monday went as it arrived — completely forgettable, faceless, bland. But Tuesday was a betrayer of trust.
I thought about leaving my paper empty as I stared paralyzed and defenseless at the sudden onslaught of questions. I thought about submitting a blank sheet before my professor, prepared with a perfectly resolute argument in my head as to why I refuse to translate Nietzsche into words, into anything close to intelligible, into any thing at all. It was not arrogance but rather something that persists at the opposite pole: repentance, or perhaps, self-reproach. I never understood him. He never wanted to be understood. I clenched my pen with my outraged fingers and hoped instead to write about the source of my irrational madness and my fuming rejection to answer the midterm exam. For a minute or two, I felt my professor’s eyes on me, and how his gaze made me hide in humiliation. There was no one but Nietzsche. My shame stripped me off of my defenses, of my excuses. My guilt, a screaming sea. For the first time ever I felt numb and naked like a newborn cursed with the consciousness of the world. With Nietzsche I felt bare-skinned, unconcealed, and raw. With Nietzsche I felt no need for words.
I don’t want to write. I never want to write again.
This paper was presented as a panel reaction in a seminar entitled “Ethics and Technology” organized by the UST Department of Philosophy and the Philosophy Circle of the Philippines, held on October 18 at the Rizal Lecture Hall, St. Raymund’s Bldg. University of Santo Tomas, Manila.
Three days ago we remember the birthdate of Friedrich Nietzsche in 1844. Some of us give value to the insightful aphorisms he left us; while some of us here don’t mind, don’t mind aphorisms at all. We feel for those who cared to ask what an aphorism is for and what an aphorism is all about; to whom it is directed; and from whence it came about —so that Nietzsche may be understood. And yet, if there is anything at all that I as a philosophy student would like this symposium to take home, to carefully pick as a fruit from the garden of wisdom and truth, it would be the desire to include into their vocabulary the word: aphorism —so that a fruit, a blessing such as Nietzsche may carry on through our time.
Continue reading “On Ethics and Technology”
This paper would like to underscore the presence of the Historicist germs surfacing from Hegel, that have grown part of the intellectual arsenal, scientific or otherwise, of the present Enlightened man after Kant, i.e. post the Plato-to-Kant canon  in the language of Contemporary Philosophy; more particularly to underscore if there have been indeed historicist origins attributable to Hegel in the way peoples of our day and age participate in the horizons of the activity of thought.
Continue reading “Hegel and his Metaphysical Bequeathal to the West”
I shouldn’t have done that: loitering on Facebook, trespassing into everyone’s privacy (as if there is such a thing), asking, begging, buying everyone’s attention so that I could burn a minute or two with somebody, anybody, and not feel alone.
I have become a joke to everyone I knew, a joke that people laugh at under their breaths, behind closed doors and closed windows, in the stillness of the silence after I have stood up and left the table, in the face of my much humiliated life. I have become both an irony and a tragedy to them in the saddest, most exaggerated form and sense. I have turned into a cliche, a very unfavorable one, in which people turn at me and remember something that’s both depressing and ugly.
Continue reading “Hello Hermit”