TheCertifiablyTRUERavingsOfASectionedPhilosopher: Don't be afraid to think you might be a little 'crazy'. Who isn't? Check out some of my visualized poems here: https://www.instagram.com/maxismaddened/
If you believe in truth, you are delusional! Thus, as things became even more extreme, and relativism spread from ‘values’ to truth itself, we increasingly began to see the crazed spectacle of Professors of Psychiatry ‘scientifically’ labelling everyone who simply happens to have different beliefs from themselves as ‘sick’ and ‘delusional’i.e. meaning they have a ‘fixed false belief’… while their presitigious, highly rewarded colleagues in the Humanities, Philosophy or Literary Studies department loudly proclaim there is ‘no truth, only interpretations’! No doubt somewhere or other, the two doctrines have been combined and solidified in the very same individuals such that if you still believe in ‘truth’, you are delusional, i.e. you have a fixed ‘false’ beliefand require urgent ‘treatment’! Pretty deranged, eh?
Truth as the best healer. Real truth saves lives; real truth works better than any pill.
I ‘mentally ill’? Am I a significant minor philosopher of
madness? Am I a partially functioning victim of dreadful,
life-changing iatrogenesis? Am I an average, ordinary welfare
scrounger who happens to write bad, yet somehow prize-winning poetry?
Am I Dionysus the Crucified, joyous mad proto-type of the adorable
Savior ? Am I old desert-dwelling Set, father of darkness and chaos?
Am I a distant descendant of that proud old tax-collector, St.
Matthew? Or a cousin of dear old Anton Lavey?
Am I a terrible, fanciful narcissist? Am I devout, self-sacrificing
campaigner for human rights, putting my own neck and freedom on the
line? Am I just a bored, cynical, romantic, (none too) cunning old
scribbler of words and would-be money-maker? Am I just someone who
likes to imbue his plots and poems with big, colorful, archetypal
not ask who I am and do not ask me to remain the same: leave it to
our bureaucrats and our police to see that our papers are in order.
At least spare us their morality when we write.”
“So, you learned to trust your Dr. then, did you?”
“So you don’t go believing your own silly opinions any more.”
“Absolutely, they’re all rubbish. Especially the ones I’m most convinced about.”
“Hmm. Interesting. If all your opinions are rubbish, how do you know that your opinion that they’re rubbish isn’t also rubbish?”
“I trust my Dr.”
“But then your opinion that he is trustworthy must also be rubbish, or at any rate equally unreliable.”
“True. It seems if I can’t trust myself, I can hardly trust my trust in my Dr. either. That one isn’t even in line my own senses, (especially when he’s sending a thousand volts through my poor cranium!)”
“Well, what with all the peculiar, cold, clinical, painful, invasive, non-consensual things he does to you then, that must be bloody terrifying.”
“So, you’re sure you’re fine?
“Yes. My memory is still addled from the last treatment.”
“That doesn’t sound so good.”
“Well, it means that I don’t complain so much, so I won’t get shocked again so soon. So it makes me happy.”
“Ah yes. That always puts a silly smile on your face.”
“Pity about the brain damage though. Is that why you’re talking to yourself?”
“Yes, because now you lack inner retention. Am I right?”
“Sorry, I’ve forgotten what you just said.”
“I said its because you lack inner retention. You can’t build on your own ideas within your own mind, and need to express them immediately or else they just vanish. But because of your tormented experiences, no one else can relate to what the Hell you’re on about, and they’ve all abandoned you, so you’re left chattering away to yourself like an old loon in ‘The Bin’. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, actually that’s right.”
“Sorry, what is?”
“So, you’re not doing too well then after all, if I remember correctly. You’re plagued by utter self-doubt, yet full of delusional conviction at the same time, and the only person you ‘trust’ is electrically and chemically raping and torturing you so badly that you’ve become a gibbering idiot, who is afraid to admit it lest he receive further unwanted ‘medical attention’.”
“You say it better than I could. I can never think of what to say when people ask me about that on the spot. I just see… flashes.”
“So basically you’re extremely scared of your Dr., but so afraid your afraid even to say it; nay, you’re so afraid that you’re afraid to even admit your fear to yourself, or outwardly express your normal distress signals. Instead they appear in ‘flashes’ inside your own head.”
“No that’s not true.”
“Are you sure?”
“But you admit you’re delusional.”
“So perhaps you really are afraid.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Please don’t harm me.”
“Do you feel that expressing your fear will be interpreted as an act of aggression?”
“Ah. Well, that is an act of aggression just saying so. What a hypocrite.”
I had been hoping to speak to you today about saving Europe.
“The night is darkest right before the dawn”, they say.
But, I can see… that is not going to happen. What with these ‘medications’ these past 12 or so years, I still can’t even look at the camera, let alone make an epoch changing speech.
As The U.N. Migration Act arrives, as the Asia Bibi case reared its ugly head, as Hate Speech Laws become more and more openly insane and humorlessly, bald-facedly brutal and misanthropic.. and stating-the-obvious is decried everywhere as ‘racism’ and ‘bigotry’,… as the organized rape continues across the country… as the ideological and chemical brainwashing and stupefying of our young accelerates, and our own little boys and girls are forced to forget which one of the two they are… as infant genital mutilation, both in its already well-loved male and now new ‘fashionable’ female varieties becomes increasingly popular… as the bloodshed increases in London and our other cities, attacks on us Jews especially become more prevalent, and, as if to add insult to injury, as even our puny, pathetic excuses for ‘philosophy’ departments are quietly erased… all the while the public sits back and does nothing with not a single major commentator or political party calling for any imminent, radical action (except perhaps to instate the Sharia into domestic Law)… With the time never being so ripe for change, with our rulers only further cementing their stranglehold on power and having already virtually closed the deal – and yet still no sign of anything, any clear uprising – its clear that we’d need a veritable Second Coming to save us now. So, pack up your bags, while you still can, and fly, fly, fly far, far away…. To America, to Israel, to Russia, or to Poland. Perhaps there you will survive a few more decades. Guard your freedom vigilantly this time. Never suck up to authority, it will only get you in a worse mess. Do not allow them to drug up yourself or your children (though I don’t suppose one can much stop them, much of the time).
Don’t worry, if its any consolation the ones who did this to us (including yourselves) will not last long themselves either. They will be enslaved and destroyed by the same system they set in motion out of greed, cowardice, resentment and rank stupidity. They will not remain ‘above the fray’ for long. The same drudgery they have inflicted on others will be returned upon their own children, x10. You can be sure of that.
Only the very few at the top of the new Egyptian pyramid already mostly formed stand a chance, those who will have first access to the new technologies; technologies that will render the rest of us totally obsolete and therefore obliterated. With all the environmental crisis that the planet is undergoing, we shouldn’t mourn the eradication of over 99.9% of humanity too much. Those who remain may have a chance to build something worthwhile on the ruins. Let us demonstrate, in our death throes, at last the noble transcendence of the petty egoism which got us in this situation by embracing what is to come and praying for a better outcome in that not-so-distant future for those few who remain, even though none of us will be among them. Besides, it is probably no better than we deserve. This is no worse than we ourselves treat the ‘lesser’ animals, who also feel great pain.
For the record though, the so-called ‘white race’ did not create slavery; they merely were the first and only ones to abolish it. Now, we are so obliging, ‘we’ re-introduce it: Back by popular demand! 21st century technological slavery, total chemical, ideological and electronic subjugation of the personality. Have your fill, folks. You voted for it. 🙂
The most dignified expression of which we are still now capable of is ‘Thank you, Master’. Let us humbly request the protection, the dignity, the security of having our servitude recognized, at least, so they don’t suspect that we are dupes as well, treating us with double the hatred and scorn of ordinary, respectable, legally recognized chattel, and all the added unpleasantness and artificiality in personal relations such hypocrisy and self-delusion creates.
Let us still be grateful that we had this chance to exist at all.
A small, bubble of life in a vast, echoing ocean of Nothingness. (Almost like how we used to feel about our own country! 😛 Remember those good old days??? They don’t seem so bad now, do they?… They don’t seem quite so intolerably ‘racist’ and stiflingly ‘homophobic’, now, do they?)
Let us make an effort to truly exist and become conscious of our existence as much as we can, while it lasts.
The fact that it will not last, just makes it that much more precious, beautifully fragile and touching; its finitude beckons us to care for and love one another with the infinite poignancy of mortal beings for one another. Furthermore, in our poverty and abject desperation for this world, we become closer to God and to… the next world. If Jesus was still here today (and hadn’t been butchered by those violent ideological and religious fanatics… some things never do change. 😉 ) , I think perhaps that is what he would like us to dwell on, (while we tuck in merrily to those ‘lesser’ animals I mentioned– totally kosher, totally halal — totally industrialized 1st Century B.C.murderous mayhem, now with an edgy high-tech, digital age twist).
Mad (‘Miracles A Dozen’) blessings to all.
***Disclaimer: The author is a mere mad poet, he cares little for politics or petty religious, tribal squabbles, seeking where at all possible only to subdue (or better yet avoid them in the first place) rather than further inflame them. But, refusing to acknowledge they exist, so far from alleviating them, is tantamount — nay, it is actually the surest way — to promoting them… just as any two year old could tell you, the surest way to making him miserable is to pretend he doesn’t exist — neglect, let alone active repression, are far more effective ways to stoking rage and hidden seething, occasionally bursting out in huge ‘fits of hate’, rather than having the ‘adult’ setting the tone for a more open and tolerant environment based upon the higher, more authentic respect of mutual and self critique in which differences are worked out more rationally, healthily and enjoyably — a lesson for mothers, ‘Daycare Centres’, schools and States everywhere! You see, if those ‘lesser animals’ could communicate better with us and ‘hatefully’ stand up and tell us how much suffering we’re inflicting upon them, we’d probably have a less ‘hateful’ (i.e. overtly murderous) attitude to them, too. While one isolated act of speech may provoke annoyance in others, a general culture of freedom of speech tends to dramatically reduce anti-social acts and feelings and is the pre-requisite of social, moral and even scientific progress. Letting someone else speak costs you nothing, while to forcibly prohibit them from doing so amounts to saying they have nothing worthwhile to add on a subject, since you already know everything on it; which is the extremity of hateful arrogance and bigotry and testament either to your own inability to control your own emotions, dupish presumption, and/or desire to exploit others without anyone calling you out on it.***
“Their friends gazed down, toiled daily at their books, but they had other ways of learning Love’s grammar in the other’s looks, one glance became their grade from passion’s burning. Their learning deepened through love’s spell, writing notes that spoke of love’s caress. Others learned to count, but love taught well, that nothing ever counts but tenderness.”
The patient. The patient is clearly suffering from paranoid ideation, delusions of grandeur, manic episodes, arrested development, attachment disorders, and not to mention a panoply of barely suppressed infantile fixations. And that’s just the good part!
Admission Permission. ‘Care’ in the community, or would you like an admission? You see, we’re so important, we’re so prissy, we’re so proper, to be *ahem* ‘allowed’ (don’t you dare say ‘kidnapped’!) into our highly-sought-after modern-day-workhouse, you have to get our permission!
Lock him up. Lock him up! Lock him up! Throw him in a cell and throw away the key! We can’t have this man on the loose! What will the children (who we’re drugging half-senseless) think? He must be seen to get his just desserts (although we’re not allowed to actually describe it like this, anyway its more sinister and subtly, psychologically effective if we pass it off as ‘caring concern’.. you see, even little kids in the backs of their little minds break like a twig and pale in horror at that which they know is a much more humiliating, devilish and all-encompassing servitude) ! If you’re locked up as a punishment, that’s one thing, but if you’re going to be locked up for ‘your own good’ too, with no evidence, due process or jury, then, we all know no one is safe. Especially since we’re all sinners against ourselves, nowadays.
“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.” C.S.Lewis
So modern. Oh we’re so modern! We’re so enlightened! Just lie back and we’ll get those electrodes tightened!
Alright, we’ve trashed his cerebral cortex. You can release him now.
Just make sure to give him a life-time prescription of Clozapine. That’ll keep him in ‘recovery’; he’ll be so recovered he’ll be drooling into his pillow every night like our faithful dog for the rest of his pathetic little life!
Friendly psychiatry. Oh we’re busy fighting the stigma, don’t you worry. Its not easy to keep on making hundreds of billions of $ when one step in our office means permanent social death. We want to welcome the world with open arms…! Those old big iron-gated State-asylums are long-gone…though, still no photography in our ‘hospitals’ of course.. we care so much about your privacy that we check on you every 20 minutes all through the night and knock on your shower door if you take more than 5 minutes,,, minions! — *ahem * I mean nurses – spruce up that bedside manner, we’ve got souls to zombify!
‘Sectioned’ by Philip Porter.
“New board game idea for Waddingtons: SECTIONED. The aim of the game is to die as quickly as possible. As you go around the board you collect nonsense diseases and psychiatric drugs. Discharge squares make you go around the board without consequence and you lose a psychiatric drug until you land on a sectioned square. Once you collect 5 drugs and 5 diseases you are sent to the ECT square where upon throwing a 3 you are electrocuted and killed. Coming soon: Virtual Reality Sectioned features all the horror of being on a ward from the comfort of your living room. Ages 8 upwards.”
To counter-act the tide of artificial, false pretenses to expert, scientific ‘objectivity’, and the docile, herd-like conformity that actually entails within social science, within the healing professions, and within society a whole, I propose that a personal account of one’s life-story, focusing on how one came to arrive at one’s central, integral values, become a standard for all such careers. This would be a move towards bolstering the development of personality and character throughout society, preventing people from hiding entirely behind their professional veneers, and presencing the real-lived experience and actual, rather than false selves, of individuals. I don’t propose this merely as a helpful task for the ‘professional’ on the way to qualifying, but as a central piece that he must present to his or her clients/patients. A kind of C.V., but, as I say, with the focus on HOW HE CAME TO HIS CENTRAL CONVICTIONS ABOUT LIFE
Harm, punish, or ‘treat’. If you harm, punish or ‘treat’ an bad man, he might just re-consider his wicked ways; but if you harm, punish or ‘treat’ a good one, he is often liable or prone to re-consider his good ways.