u/PermitOk6864

Because yesterday I was standing on the corner minding my own business and all of the sudden for no reason at all out of nowhere causa sui ex nihilo completely randomly my pants fell down and I got a fine for indecent exposure and now I'm on the register.

I keep my belt VERY tight, meaning the downward force of gravity was negated by friction along with the slight fluid bulge that results from the lack of blood flow. Therefore, the laws of physics provided no sufficient reason for my trousers to manifest at my shoes. Checkmate rationalists. Things just be like that.

QED

I can't talk about it so I'm passing it over in silence.

I pushed an old lady down a flight of stairs because she was DISTURBING my AESTHETIC CONTEMPLATION. She later came to my apartment door with two G-MEN in suits to demand "compensation." COMPENSATION, she wants, that little widow? She demands 'compensation' for her broken hip. A FUNDAMENTALLY ABSURD REQUEST. Since my world is my REPRESENTATION, I merely rearranged the spatial-temporal coordinates of my OWN phenomenal cognition. I pushed MYSELF down the stairs in the form of an OLD WOMAN. Why the FUCK should I pay her? That would be me paying myself, a PONZI SCHEME. Another pathetic example of der Wille zum Leben's endless striving toward nothing in particular.

​I am VERY hungry, I am VERY angry, I am EXTREMELY horny, I am VERY greedy. I am a flesh-vehicle for the Will's continued self-subsistence, I am an arm of the Ding-an-sich. My world is my representation, I can NEVER know anything except what my a priori forms of cognition allow me to. CONVENIENTLY, my nicotine addiction is NOT one of these, and thus is the NOUMENON. This is because cause and effect and whatnot. PURE ACTION IN NOTHINGNESS.

​When my pack of smokes is empty, the Will is violently starved, and I am plunged into ABSOLUTE SUFFERING. When I buy a new one and smoke it, the fleeting cessation of desire IMMEDIATELY collapses into suffocating BOREDOM. I am a MEAT PENDULUM swinging violently between the gas station and my used Herman Miller from eBay (IT WAS CHEAP DO NOT WORRY ABOUT MY FINANCES).

​APROPOS CHEAPNESS: I do NOT care about my finances, ALL finances are a Ponzi scheme, because we're all ONE, we're merely paying ourselves, this is called A BUBBLE! Does anyone remember '92? The Japanese housing bubble BURST because of a Ponzi scheme propped up by a weak yen and the Yakuza. Sound familiar? It should, YOU WERE THERE. I WAS TOO.

I am NOT depressed, I merely realize the ceaseless striving of the Will. I am NOT a virgin, I merely see the POINTLESSNESS of attempting to satisfy my desperation for love and care, for once my desperation is satisfied it moves to BOREDOM, and I will inevitably yearn for something else. It is better to do NOTHING AT ALL, or I might become a methhead or a serial rapist. I do NOT pay heed to the fact the Will is the metaphysical basis of all existence, and is thus inescapable. The intellect is just yet another tool of the Will-to-live, and a priori forms of cognition such as "facts" or "logic" are thus downstream of this. THIS IS PERFECTLY LOGICAL AND NOT CIRCULAR AT ALL. It's NOT a deus ex machina I worked myself into because I found the conclusion of my metaphysics uncomfortable!

​Schopenhauer is undeniably the greatest genius ever, thus, as a fan of his, I am the SECOND BIGGEST GENIUS EVER. My nicotine addiction is further proof of my genius, as I not only feel, but EMBODY the Will. And the fact I try to ignore the cold sweats, irritability, and vague discomfort I get from not smoking through turning the volume on my headphones all the way up is just further proof of my genius. I am NOT "engaging in escapism to run from the discomfort of withdrawals," I am NOT "destroying my hearing"—I am engaging in AESTHETIC CONTEMPLATION. Music is the highest form of art, because it involves the fewest of the a priori senses. And thus is closer to the Will. THIS is why I pushed the disgusting old crone down the stairs. Her grating voice SOMEHOW made it through my noise cancelling Bose QuietComfort 35 IIIs, disturbing my aesthetic contemplation, and dragging me back into the horrible world of the Will's tyranny. SHE LACKS COMPASSION. Compassion is the highest virtue and equilibrium HAD to be restored!

​I am currently sitting PLASTERED to the toilet. I got stressed and so smoked the rest of my pack and became COMPLETELY INCONTINENT. INCONVENIENTLY ENOUGH, the bitch is still outside my door, and I need a new pack. I live on the third floor, should I jump? I know suicide is technically a VULGAR AFFIRMATION of the Will rather than a denial of it, but the G-men are picking the lock and I really need a cigarette. (Alternatively can anyone buy me a pack of American spirit browns and a coke zero and throw it through my window?)

​Any Schopenhauerian tips guys? NO HEGELIANS, SCHELLINGIANS OR FICHTEANS PLEASE. If a Fichtean replies to this I will posit my fist directly into your non-ego.

I pushed an old lady down a flight of stairs because she was DISTURBING my AESTHETIC CONTEMPLATION. She later came to my apartment door with two G-MEN in suits to demand "compensation." COMPENSATION, she wants, that little widow? She demands 'compensation' for her broken hip. A FUNDAMENTALLY ABSURD REQUEST. Since my world is my REPRESENTATION, I merely rearranged the spatial-temporal coordinates of my OWN phenomenal cognition. I pushed MYSELF down the stairs in the form of an OLD WOMAN. Why the FUCK should I pay her? That would be me paying myself, a PONZI SCHEME. Another pathetic example of der Wille zum Leben's endless striving toward nothing in particular.

​I am VERY hungry, I am VERY angry, I am EXTREMELY horny, I am VERY greedy. I am a flesh-vehicle for the Will's continued self-subsistence, I am an arm of the Ding-an-sich. My world is my representation, I can NEVER know anything except what my a priori forms of cognition allow me to. CONVENIENTLY, my nicotine addiction is NOT one of these, and thus is the NOUMENON. This is because cause and effect and whatnot. PURE ACTION IN NOTHINGNESS.

​When my pack of smokes is empty, the Will is violently starved, and I am plunged into ABSOLUTE SUFFERING. When I buy a new one and smoke it, the fleeting cessation of desire IMMEDIATELY collapses into suffocating BOREDOM. I am a MEAT PENDULUM swinging violently between the gas station and my used Herman Miller from eBay (IT WAS CHEAP DO NOT WORRY ABOUT MY FINANCES).

​APROPOS CHEAPNESS: I do NOT care about my finances, ALL finances are a Ponzi scheme, because we're all ONE, we're merely paying ourselves, this is called A BUBBLE! Does anyone remember '92? The Japanese housing bubble BURST because of a Ponzi scheme propped up by a weak yen and the Yakuza. Sound familiar? It should, YOU WERE THERE. I WAS TOO.

I am NOT depressed, I merely realize the ceaseless striving of the Will. I am NOT a virgin, I merely see the POINTLESSNESS of attempting to satisfy my desperation for love and care, for once my desperation is satisfied it moves to BOREDOM, and I will inevitably yearn for something else. It is better to do NOTHING AT ALL, or I might become a methhead or a serial rapist. I do NOT pay heed to the fact the Will is the metaphysical basis of all existence, and is thus inescapable. The intellect is just yet another tool of the Will-to-live, and a priori forms of cognition such as "facts" or "logic" are thus downstream of this. THIS IS PERFECTLY LOGICAL AND NOT CIRCULAR AT ALL. It's NOT a deus ex machina I worked myself into because I found the conclusion of my metaphysics uncomfortable!

​Schopenhauer is undeniably the greatest genius ever, thus, as a fan of his, I am the SECOND BIGGEST GENIUS EVER. My nicotine addiction is further proof of my genius, as I not only feel, but EMBODY the Will. And the fact I try to ignore the cold sweats, irritability, and vague discomfort I get from not smoking through turning the volume on my headphones all the way up is just further proof of my genius. I am NOT "engaging in escapism to run from the discomfort of withdrawals," I am NOT "destroying my hearing"—I am engaging in AESTHETIC CONTEMPLATION. Music is the highest form of art, because it involves the fewest of the a priori senses. And thus is closer to the Will. THIS is why I pushed the disgusting old crone down the stairs. Her grating voice SOMEHOW made it through my noise cancelling Bose QuietComfort 35 IIIs, disturbing my aesthetic contemplation, and dragging me back into the horrible world of the Will's tyranny. SHE LACKS COMPASSION. Compassion is the highest virtue and equilibrium HAD to be restored!

​I am currently sitting PLASTERED to the toilet. I got stressed and so smoked the rest of my pack and became COMPLETELY INCONTINENT. INCONVENIENTLY ENOUGH, the bitch is still outside my door, and I need a new pack. I live on the third floor, should I jump? I know suicide is technically a VULGAR AFFIRMATION of the Will rather than a denial of it, but the G-men are picking the lock and I really need a cigarette. (Alternatively can anyone buy me a pack of American spirit browns and a coke zero and throw it through my window?)

​Any Schopenhauerian tips guys? NO HEGELIANS, SCHELLINGIANS OR FICHTEANS PLEASE. If a Fichtean replies to this I will posit my fist directly into your non-ego.

I'm a 25yo female living with my family and I'm in a really unhealthy obsessive parasocial relationship with Nick Land. I've been obsessed with him for over a year ever since I saw a post regarding him on reddit on a philosophy subreddit. I don't know, he looks very charming, quirky, especially young him. He looks like an ideal twink, his facial expressions, the way he speaks, his accent, the tone of his voice. I love every aspect of him, I've tried to read his philosophy despite not having much of a background in philosophy. I have tens of printed pictures of him in my room, I secretly keep a dildo in my room and sometimes attach a picture of him on a pillow along with a dildo and masturbate with that dildo imagining having sex with Land. It's so obsessive, and my family is really mad. I'm currently a year behind in college and is really depressive, how do I get out of this situation? I even once tried to dm him. Got ignored of course..

I just want to get something important out of the way first: you are all wrong; it is pronounced "beurrecquez-l'heaillieixesent (third-person plural present indicative w. fossilized silent sibilant infix)"not "bark-lee", unless you are blind that is, or otherwise visuo-perceptually deficient.

I am an ATHEIST Berkeleyan. I do not believe in OBJECT PERMANENCE. I do not believe in reason. I believe in what I can fucking see and fucking hear and fucking feel. When I can not see something, it does not FUCKING EXIST. When I walk out of my house in the morning, it is fucking GONE. I do not believe in thinking. I do not believe in second OR third hand empirical proof. I do not believe in systems. I do not believe in the thing-in-itself. I do not believe in skepticism, I do not believe in the law of non contradiction. I do not believe in the fucking semi-translucent sweat-patch on my god damn off white sewn in Italy biodynamically farmed belgian linen cavalry twill pants with fucking ironed vertical pleats, mulberry silk lined pockets, and an elegant tapered 5 pocket design with a classic silhouette, 12,5' waist height, japanese brass details, embossed uruguayan vegetable tanned leather jacron label and a FUCKING ykk brass zipper, because it's on my ass and thus I can not fucking see it. I think peekaboo is the funniest thing in the fucking world.

You are not real and you can not judge me because I do not percieve your consciousness and thus your consciousness is not percieved because I only believe in immediate qualia and am perfectly rational so the only perceiving being at any given moment is ME. You may now ask: who perceives my consciousness? The FUCKING CARTESIAN HOMUNCULUS. I do not fucking care about abstract logical equations about how it is "only recreating the problem one step further back" because I NEVER paid attention in first year formal logic and did NOT read the curriculum, so these equations do not make sense to me, and because I perceive them only as WORTHLESS SQUIGGLES they do not fucking exist as anything other than WORTHLESS FUCKING SQUIGGLES.

I am PERFECTLY RATIONAL because I do not believe in proof. I believe in IMMEDIATE QUALIA and what I feel like believing in the PRESENT MOMENT. This is not a defence mechanism. I do not have trauma. I do not want to forget what I did in the bushes behind the middle school basketball court in the fucking 8th grade. I am NOT coping. I do not believe in coping because I can not see it. I do not differentiate a priori and a posteriori because they are ABSTRACT CATEGORIES that I cannot SEE HEAR or SMELL. I have forgotten the taste of pennies in the air and the horrible sound her windpipe made. I have forgotten the absolute and complete embodied satisfaction I felt. I HAVE forgotten it because I have decided it NEVER happened because I can not immediately see it through IMMANENT QUALIA. I am an ATHEIST BERKELEYAN and I am NOT a coward and I can face the IMPLICATIONS of my worldview without needing a fucking warm weighted blanket with pink fluffy hearts on it and DELUSIONAL ontological justifications like all of you HEGELIAN SISSYBOYS. I am an atheist berkeleyan and I am RATIONAL.

When I am drunk the world physically spins. The ground physically caves under me and I fall on my face and get a nosebleed because the fucking forces of nature are EVIL and decided to punish me IN PARTICULAR. I do NOT get drunk off cheap liquor every evening because I do not BELIEVE in ANY PRIOR evening. I believe in the PRESENT MOMENT and in the present moment yesterday does not exist. I did not "lose" my keys 4 times and get on the sex offender registry. The keys fucking VANISHED because the fucking LINING in my pockets was too fucking THICK. The sex offender registry is a RIDICULOUS ontological MENTAL ILLNESS and an imagined concept that does not exist because I am not looking at it.

When I wear gloves I can say the n word as many times as I FUCKING want and that does not make me "racist" or "on parole since November 2014" or other such UNBASED ontic ILLUSIONS. This is because I can not SEE the colour of my skin so then the colour of my skin can be WHATEVER I fucking WANT it to be.

There is a plentitude of multitudes of mirrors in my house and they are NOT covered up. That is true because I am currently waiting for the bus NOT at my house, so my house can be Whatever I fucking want it to be. When I see myself in the mirror I do not jump from fear. I do not believe it is another person coming to kill me. The fact I do not believe this is NOT projection and NOT cope. I am not sexually attracted to my mother. I am NOT deathly afraid of RATS. This is all true, because I fucking say it is, and when I fucking say it's true it is IMMANENT because I HAVE EYES and I can fucking READ and the IMMANENT QUALIA I experience in the present moment take precedence over RIDICULOUS ontic LIES such as "the truth".

Esse est percipi; percipitor ego est.

Thoughts? Please keep inquiries as pertains to my sex offender status or previous and thereby non existent actions or beliefs to a minimum. Thank you.

I am a Hegelian. I believe EVERY conflict is a DIALECTIC. I start arguments with myself so that HISTORY can ADVANCE. I have been BANNED from three PHILOSOPHY subs for attempting to SUBLATE the moderation team. I do NOT pay parking fines. The STATE fines ITSELF through me. I do not have a girlfriend. THE ABSOLUTE has alienated itself into a girlfriend shape and WILL return to itself at the appropriate HISTORICAL JUNCTURE. The fact I do NOT have a girlfriend is CONTINGENT on the fact that this fact of girlfriendlessness NECESSARILY contains its own negation. Therefore I do NOT not have a girlfriend. I do not HAVE a girlfriend and I am NOT girlfriendless therefore I am AUFGEHOBEN into a state of simultaneous BECOMING of girlfriendhavingness and girlfriendhavinglessness. Thus I exist as the SUBLATION of girlfriendhavingness and girlfriendhavinglessness. Thus I am DIALECTICALLY NOT AN INCEL. I do NOT CARE about the THING-IN-ITSELF. The DING-AN-SICH is a FANTASY of FINITE THINKING. Everything IS only insofar as it RELATES. Precisely insofar as it does not. I do NOT believe in TRANSCENDENCE. I do NOT believe in SENSE-CERTAINTY. I believe in the ABSOLUTE, and the ABSOLUTE believes itself through me. ONLY insofar as the Absolute and its negation NECESSITATE each other.

​I have NEVER been wrong. My wrongness is a NECESSARY MOMENT OF TRUTH. If I get presented with IRREFUTABLE FACTS I obfuscate and serve circular WORD SALAD. If I cannot reframe this irrefutable fact to my benefit within 3 minutes I REVISE MY FRAMEWORK so that this IRREFUTABLE FACT is further PROOF of its UNIVERSAL RIGHTNESS. I was NOT wrong, I was merely INTERRUPTED in my dialectic process. The dialectic was undergoing a critical step of ILLUSORY WRONGLOOKINGNESS before the next negation made itself IMMANENT. I have NEVER been right. My rightness is a NECESSARY MOMENT OF FALSEHOOD. I am the CONCRETE UNIVERSAL. I do not "read the news". I observe the SELF-REALISATION of WORLD SPIRIT and comprehend it RETROSPECTIVELY, which is the ONLY TRUE PREDICTION. I believe history ENDS every Thursday and RESTARTS on Friday at a HIGHER LEVEL of development. 

​I do NOT believe in soundness or falsifiability. I do NOT believe in right or wrong. I am a COG in a MACHINE of my OWN WILLING and YOU ARE TOO. If you DISAGREE with me you are objectively necessary to my system. If you AGREE with me you are objectively necessary to my system.

I HATE Kant and Kant hates HIMSELF through ME. Immanuel KANT set LIMITS on what REASON can KNOW and then spent his entire life in KALININSBERG and never LEFT. The TOWNSPEOPLE set their CLOCKS by his WALKS. A man who cannot NEGATE his own CITY cannot NEGATE the THING-IN-ITSELF. He merely PRESERVED it behind a WALL and called this CRITIQUE. I have LEFT many cities. I have NEGATED many cities. The DING-AN-SICH does NOT survive my COSMOPOLITANISM. Precisely insofar as it does.

​no ad hominem retorts please thank you.

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I am a UTILITARIAN and I believe in MORALITY being a MATH equation. I do not believe in context. I do not believe in nuance. I believe in RESULTS. I am not a positive utilitarian. I am not a negative utilitarian. I am both. Temporally seperated. I HAVE A SNAIL FARM AND FENT LAB IN BY BASEDMENT AND THE SNAILS ARE FENTED THE FUCK UP UNTIL THEY DIE EXPERIENCING PURE BLISS. I WILL HOOK ALL OF YOU UP TO IV DRIPS WITH FENTANYL AND DIAZEPAM UNTIL I HAVE FIGURED OUT HOW TO ELIMINATE ALL LIFE. I AM POSTMORTALIST AND IN SUPPORT OF CHEMICAL BLISS UNTIL I AM NOT. AND WHEN I AM NOT I AM A PROMORTALIST WHO IS PRO UTILITY MONSTER. I WILL DONATE MY WIFE AND CHILDREN TO THE UTILITY MONSTER. I DO NOT CARE ABOUT "VIRTUE" OR "MORAL LAW" I AM NOT GAY AND I AM NOT FEMALE I AM A MAN AND A MAN DOES NOT LISTEN TO MEN IN WIGS OR WITHOUT SHIRTS. I AM A PARTNER IN ONE OF THE BIGGEST LEGAL FIRMS IN THE WORLD AND I DONATE HALF MY SALARY TO MSF AND THE OTHER HALF I USE TO SUBSIDISE MY SNAILFENT FARM. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN SELF ACTUALISATION. I DO NOT BELIEVE IN THE WILL TO POWER OR ANY SUCH VULGAR ONTOLOGICALLY NAIVE CLAIMS. I BELIEVE IN PLEASURE, PAIN, AND RESULTS.

​

I am ETHICAL, I am RATIONAL, and I do NOT believe in

ONTIC DELUSIONS.

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Thoughts?

It is IMPERATIVE for productivity to have a sick fade. Ai-first B2B SaaS products are also contingent on the size of your lats and the tightness of your compression shirt. I read STRICTLY NON-fiction because I am NOT a FEMALE who reads USELESS books like BROTHERS KARAMAZOV. I have 5 books on my BOOKshelf: thus spoke Zarathustra, the prince, meditations, the art of war, and 48 laws of power. Thus spoke Zarathustra does NOT count as fiction because neechees mustache was MASSIVE and he was NOT a FEMALE or GAY! Look at my MASSIVE pecs accentuated by my VERY tight BLACK turtleneck COMPRESSION shirt under my khaki BLAZER! It is NOT a suit jacket because I'm 25 YEARS OLD and I am WARM AND APPROACHABLE! Therefore I do NOT wear suits but I wear BLAZERS and VERY tight khakis or jeans. My shoes are loafers but they are NOT feminine because they're LEATHER and have BLACK soles and my pants go VERY far up my ASSCRACK but that is NOT because I want a dick in my ass because I am NOT gay! NOTHING is more MASCULINE than a wet spot on your STRETCH khakis that are 2 sizes too small and an IMPRINT on the crotch. I do NOT wear SOCKS! INVESTORS love me and I have Elon MUSK on speed dial. I am NOT a MIDDLE MANAGER i am an EFFICIENCY CONSULTANT and a VITAL step of the PRODUCTIVITY CHAIN. My job is NOT dead end and I am NOT miserable.

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Thoughts?

It is IMPERATIVE for productivity to have a sick fade. Ai-first B2B SaaS products are also contingent on the size of your lats and the tightness of your compression shirt. I read STRICTLY NON-fiction because I am NOT a FEMALE who reads USELESS books like BROTHERS KARAMAZOV. I have 5 books on my BOOKshelf: thus spoke Zarathustra, the prince, meditations, the art of war, and 48 laws of power. Thus spoke Zarathustra does NOT count as fiction because neechees mustache was MASSIVE and he was NOT a FEMALE or GAY! Look at my MASSIVE pecs accentuated by my VERY tight BLACK turtleneck COMPRESSION shirt under my khaki BLAZER! It is NOT a suit jacket because I'm 25 YEARS OLD and I am WARM AND APPROACHABLE! Therefore I do NOT wear suits but I wear BLAZERS and VERY tight khakis or jeans. My shoes are loafers but they are NOT feminine because they're LEATHER and have BLACK soles and my pants go VERY far up my ASSCRACK but that is NOT because I want a dick in my ass because I am NOT gay! NOTHING is more MASCULINE than a wet spot on your STRETCH khakis that are 2 sizes too small and an IMPRINT on the crotch. I do NOT wear SOCKS! INVESTORS love me and I have Elon MUSK on speed dial. I am NOT a MIDDLE MANAGER i am an EFFICIENCY CONSULTANT and a VITAL step of the PRODUCTIVITY CHAIN. My job is NOT dead end and I am NOT miserable.

It is IMPERATIVE for productivity to have a sick fade. Ai-first B2B SaaS products are also contingent on the size of your lats and the tightness of your compression shirt. I read STRICTLY NON-fiction because I am NOT a FEMALE who reads USELESS books like BROTHERS KARAMAZOV. I have 5 books on my BOOKshelf: thus spoke Zarathustra, the prince, meditations, the art of war, and 48 laws of power. Thus spoke Zarathustra does NOT count as fiction because neechees mustache was MASSIVE and he was NOT a FEMALE or GAY! Look at my MASSIVE pecs accentuated by my VERY tight BLACK turtleneck COMPRESSION shirt under my khaki BLAZER! It is NOT a suit jacket because I'm 25 YEARS OLD and I am WARM AND APPROACHABLE! Therefore I do NOT wear suits but I wear BLAZERS and VERY tight khakis or jeans. My shoes are loafers but they are NOT feminine because they're LEATHER and have BLACK soles and my pants go VERY far up my ASSCRACK but that is NOT because I want a dick in my ass because I am NOT gay! NOTHING is more MASCULINE than a wet spot on your STRETCH khakis that are 2 sizes too small and an IMPRINT on the crotch. I do NOT wear SOCKS! INVESTORS love me and I have Elon MUSK on speed dial. I am NOT a MIDDLE MANAGER i am an EFFICIENCY CONSULTANT and a VITAL step of the PRODUCTIVITY CHAIN. My job is NOT dead end and I am NOT miserable.