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.”
“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.”
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.
thyself now instead, Not with a desperate, Shrieking
Call For Sirening Ambulance, But with thine
prayers: Repeat them, with mute, motioning lips, In the serene
sanctuary of thine head, Yet inviolate and undisturbed.
even your prayers also are far too loud!)
save yourself, And be quiet.
finally, let this wan din of a hymn oblate itself entirely, Like
the Winter and its frozen lake, Giving way to crystal
thoughts and Nothingness, Negating all wild life…
perfect, idyllic stillness and silence, Thine powers shall
at last Return, my Self, my friend… (Thine senseless, clamoring,
noisy days be at an end!)
like a flower popping up thru’ the cold soil….
too are silent. Even our Spring must remain dumb on our lips!)
this Silent Spring — this SIlentWellSpring! — The Silent Spring
Of Wellness! —
the birds for migrational majesty, (Whose airswept flight to us is
itself soundless. While the air reverberates loudly and
brashly to your lips, my dove; But your eyes, your eyes are
this SilentWellSpring outdo the Birds Of The Morning
its Silent Spiritual Secret Song,
in praise and glory, my sweet thrush, With at last peaceful
(((Peace & Love, M. J. L…. quotations from the Jewish Holy book, The Talmud))) #HappyEaster
If someone says ‘I am the Queen Of England”, and happens to be wearing the right regalia and be at the right place at the right time: Does that make them the Queen of England – even when they are really just an ordinary back-ally whore in a pretty suit? Probably not. But would the latter necessarily then mean they are mad, to act so above themselves? No. They could, after all, just be enjoying themselves, or maybe be making a genuine and very rationally-self-interested bid at the throne! Even if it fails and others think they are mad, might they then not be impersonating that part — of madness – lets say they just want get out of work or like scorning the opinions of others– too – and maybe they do this half-unconsciously? If not, doesn’t that mean ‘mental illness’ is nothing but an appearance, with no essential reality behind it ? Two options: either accept that “mental illness” is indeed mental, & cannot be distinguished purely or easily by appearances, OR accept that the concept is merely the enforcement of a certain social style and taste, rather than a psychological reality and genuine ‘illness’ — in other words — basically a scurrilous lie intended to defame show-boating, light-heartedly courageous or eccentric individuals . Individuals who maybe in fact attempting to relieve the most deadly social malady of all times — unthinking social conformity and cowardice in the face of other people’s opinions, one of the root causes of the The Inquisition, Holocaust, Soviet Russia, war itself, and countless other tragedies. Furthermore, must we not then say, since mental illness understood in such a manner is merely an appearance, that those who believe in it as if it were an important reality, actually locking ppl up and ‘treating’ them for it in one big further charade, are THEMSELVES highly delusional — and highly dangerous? I.e., that they themselves are the ones who are in fact most genuinely, ghastly and sincerely mentally ill — unless, of course, they too are just acting. ;)(But, of course, surely, that would just make them MUCH more dangerous and even more socially pernicious… wouldn’t it? Since they are literally kidnapping, ruining the reputation of and chemically lobotomizing millions of ppl over their stunts…just like their Nazi forebears…#gaslitbyamadman