Promo: Intensity

[Guest redbaron51]

At 4:00 AM in the morning, oncoming traffic is sparse, but each set of headlights purls through the fine hairs in my ears. This is a pleasant sound, separate from the passing roar of engines and the Doppler-shift whine of other vehicles' tires on the pavement.

 

As I drive, I eat one of the Hershey bars. The silkiness of melting chocolate on his tongue reminds him of the music of Al Di Meola.

 

Listening to the murmur of oncoming headlights, engaged in this free association of sensory input and memory, I am a happy man. I experiance life far moe intensely than other people do; I am a singularity. Because my mind is not cluttered with foolishness and false emotions, I am able to perceive what others cannot. I understand the nature of the world, the purpose of existance, and the truth behind the Big Lie; because of these insights, I am free, and because I am free, I am always happy.

 

The nature of the world is sensation. We drift in an ocean of sensory stimuli: motion, color, texture, shape, heat, cold, natural symphonies of sound, an infinate number of scents, tastes beyond the human ability to catalogue. Nothing but sensation endures. Living things all die. Great cities do not last. Metal corrodes and stone crumbles. Over eons, continents are reshaped, whole mountain ranges vanish, and seas runs dry. The planet itself will be vaporized when the sun self-destructs. But even in the void of deep space, between solar systems, in that profound vacuum that will not transmit sound, there is nevertheless light and darkness, cold, motion, shape, and the awful panorama of eternity.

 

The sole purpose of existance is to open oneself to sensation and to satisfy all appetites as they arise. I know that there is no such thing as a good or a bad sensation-only raw sensation itself-and that every sensory experiance is worthwhile. Negative and Positive values are merely human interpretations, of value-neutral stimuli and, therefore, are only as enduring-which is to say, as meaningless-as human beings themselves. I enjoy the most bitter taste as much as I relish the sweetness of a ripe peach; in fact, I occasionally chew a few asprin not to relieve a headache but to savor the incomparable flavor of the medication. When I accidently cut myself, I am never afraid, because I find pain fascinating and welcomes it as merely another form of pleasure; even the taste of my own blood intrigues me.

 

I am not sure if there is such a thing as the immortal soul, but I am unshakably certain that if souls exist, we are not born with them in the same way that we are born with eyes and ears. I believe that the sould, if real accretes in the same manner as a coral reef grows from the deposit of countless millions of calcareous skeletons secreted by marine polyps. We build the reef of the soul, however, not from dead polyps but from steadily accreted sensations through the course of a lifetime. In my considered opinion, if one wishes to have a formidable soul-or any soul at all-one must open oneself to every possible sensation, plunge into the bottomless ocean of sensory stimuli that is our world, and experiance with no consideration of good or bad, right or wrong, with no fear but only fortitude. If my belief is correct, then myself is that building what may be the most intricate, elaborated-if not to say baroque-and important soul that has ever transcended this level of existence.

 

The Big Lie is that such concepts as love, guilt, and hate are real. Put myself into a room with any priest, show them a pencil, and they will agree on its color, size, and shape. Blindfold them, hold a cinnamon under their noses and they will both identify it from the smell. But bring them before them a mother cuddling her baby, and the priest will see love where as I will see only a woman who enjoys the sensations provided by the infant-the scrubbed smell of it, the softness of its pink skin, the endeniably pleasing roundess of its simply-formed face, the musicality of its giggle; its apparent helplessness and dependence deeply satisfy her. The greatest curse of humanity's high intelligence is that, in most members of the species, it leads to a yearning to be more than they are. All men and women, in my view, are fundamentally nothing other than animals-smart animals, indeed, but animals nonetheless; reptiles, infact, evolved from whatever fish with legs first crawled out of the primordial sea. They are, he knows, motivated and formed soleyl by sensory stimuli, yet unable to admit to the primacy of physical sensation over intellect and emontion. They are even frightened of the reptile consciousness within, its needs and hungers, and they attempt to restrict its sensation seeking by using lies such as love, guilt, hate, courage, loyalty and honor.

 

This is the philosophy of mine. I embrace this reptilian nature. The glory of myself is to be found in his unmatched accretion of sensations. This is a functional philosophy, requiring its adherent to endorse neither the black-and-white values that so hamper religious persons nor the embarrassings contradictions of the situational ethics that characterize both the modern atheist and those whose religion is politics...

 

 

 

 

This is my way of life...

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

...cool. Isn't Xero like, gone though? Oh well. Almost Sacred-ish, I'd say.

[Guest Suicide King]

Well, I'm gonna take this to mean that he's active and he wants to be booked.