Riffing off a phrase.

Is it such a terrible thing that one should wish to destroy everyone and everything, after all, is not the destructive urge allso a creative one? Is it not true that for the new to exist, the old must go away to some degree. Room must be made. But is the making of that room part of the same action of creating that which is to go into it or is it an intirely seperate action. What is the relationship between actions of creation and actions of destruction, obviously when placed far apart there need be no relationship between the two but when they are closer together in time and space, well then perhaps then there is some question to be had.

How to do.

One should not write for the joy of the meaning that can be contained within language one should write for the joy of the words themselves, a joy unconstrained by higher truth and words unconstrained by the boudaries of language.

Truth is not beautiful beauty is simply true allways and forever.

Things should be what they are uncomplicated.

They should be done for the sake of themselves.

Write so that you may write, for if you did not write then you would not be writing.

Draw that you may draw, for if did not draw then you would not be drawing.

Do that you may do, for if you did not do then you would not be doing.

'Why are you doing this?' the pilgrim cried
'If i were not doing this then it would not be doing,
if i were not doing this then i would not be doing it, and it would not be done atleast not by me.' replied the master.

A Kingdom far far away closer than you think.

One day, in a kingdom far, far away a painting contest was held between the official court artist and a lowly beggar, both of whom claimed that they, were the greatest in all the land, both of whom had slaved, tirelessly over endless weeks to paint the most magnificent painting possible, so that they would go down in history as the greatest, or at least the greatest until next years ‘Artist Idol’. And so, upon the day of the contest, both artists were asked to unveil their master works. The official court artist went first, unveiling a magnificent and yet ever so slightly boring picture of a long banquet table with sumptuous meats and fruits of every variety the sort of thing that the king was very used to and very fond of “look at that” said the king “its magnificent, even the cutlery is magnificent, it shines magnificently” at that very moment a magpie in agreement with the kings final statement swooped down in order to take some of the painting for its nest and was immediately set upon by the court guards who failed to catch the bird but none the less completely wrecked the painting much to the collective aghast of all those present, the artist sensing that he needed to find some saving grace in this if he was to save his neck shouted out "but look at that I am such a brilliant artist that I have fooled nature itself" which went down very well indeed at this point the king sensing that he needed to put in an appearance lest his people not notice him and crown the artist in his stead bore down on the beggar and said "right so you think you can do better than that do you" the beggar said nothing "well answer me, unveil you're damn painting or I’ll do it myself" the beggar said nothing nor did anything and so the king grabbed hold of the piece of cloth that covered the painting and ripped it away only to find that their was no cloth only the painting itself, the painting itself being a painting of a piece of cloth covering a painting. And before the crowd or indeed the king or indeed the court artist were able to get over their shock at this the beggar said "right, see here, that artist great as he may be was only able to fool a magpie, were as I am so great that I’ve made the king, himself look like a right twat and make no mistake "

And so at the final tally two paintings were destroyed, conceptual art was born, one magpie died of lead poisoning, and one lowly beggar was hanged for insolence.

The official court artist remains the official court artist.

Distance / Perception.

The further you go up the more and more people look like ants, go up further than that and pretty soon they look like nothing at all.

power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

how can you care about what you're to far away to see.

If you're on a tall building and the people look like ants, what do the ants look like?
If you're to far away to see them can they see you, if you think the people look like ants but the people can see you're a person who has the power?
When an ant looks at you does it see you as a giant or just as a piece of moving scenery?

The word of god {library}

I come up to the library doors, they are automatic ones with sensors that feel you're presence and send the open signal to the motors that move the doors. As I come up to them, I notice that on the other side of them is a small girl, I notice also that she has no soul, as the doors have not opened for her. To my shock, amazement, and disappointment as I come up to the doors, they, in contrast to the girl, open for me. It is not that I did not wish to enter just that I resent the idea of carrying around all of this emotional baggage from previous lives not my own . As I think this the small girl without a soul runs off with her family how much awareness she has of this mode of thinking and of the whereabouts of her soul is a secret she keeps well hidden.

Exposition against the existence of an eternal soul

It strikes me that if you where to put water into a empty vessel then the water would not hold its shape for any longer than the vessel exists by which I mean if you where to put water in a jug and you where then to smash the jug the water it contained would not hold any shape nor would it remain in the same position it would disperse repeat this action this action with other materials sand, pebbles, and other such things would do the same, clay on the other hand would probably remain in much the same place but would not be able to survive intact the breaking of the jug. As the jug breaks so must the clay break, dent, or crumble.
It strikes me that the soul is simmilar thing to these previously metioned substances it to can not survive the breaking of the body like those substances it to shall be washed away, blown away or crumble away it to will dissperse in doing so it may become part of something else but it will not be the same.

Falling trees

If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one there to hear it does it make a sound?
If a tree falls in a forest and it does not make a sound is there anyone to hear it?
If a tree falls in a forest and no one can see it can anyone hear it?
If a tree falls in the forest and a person sees it but does not hear it does it make a sound?
If a tree falls in a forest and we are told about it can we then hear it?
If a tree falls in the forest can the forest hear it?
If a tree falls in the forest and it drops on someone and kills them does it make a sound?
If the last tree falls is there a forest?
If the last tree falls is there anyone to hear it?
If the forest falls will anyone make a sound?

online encyclopedia.

www.wikipedia.org

i contribute to this.

Defining the Philistine.

Someone who turns lack of understanding into a prejudice.
i.e. "I don't understand it therefore it can not be understood"
The Philistine is a master practitioner of solipsism, he assumes that how he thinks and feels about something, is how everybody else thinks and feels about it, and that any evidence contrary to this, is simply the product of people being too cowardly to admit their opinions and feelings. He is unaware of his bigotry.
The Philistine thinks that he knows best in almost all situations he says things like "I'm not a clever man but atleast I've got common sense", and "I don't know nothing about art but I know what I like". In short the Philistine by his very nature will allways claim knowledge and authority over something when in fact all he has is ignorance and persistence.

Though I have throughout this essay used the word he, this is not to say that a women could not be a Philistine I was merely seeking to avoid the dreaded he forward slash she.

Forward slash: /

Esxquisite corpsing.

Please go to the comments and continue this story which is called..................

Death Star.

p.s. you have to wait for someone else to post before you can post again.

Black whole: Chapter 1

Man walks into a bar but its nothing like that old joke he is nearly killed and then his life just begins, he start a war against drinkers he doesn't want to cure them he wants revenge he, wants to play a game of god who let everybody down, he wants to greet all good people in front of the gates of heaven and with a sneer on his face and to tell them "it is already full, sorry folks".
Change or die that was his mantra, that was what he allways said to his victims before killing them, he had them gagged they couldn't talk and he took their scilence as a request to die. Everyone requests to die at some level in their lives. Their requests are hidden in prayers, in tears, in the self abusive ways which are burried under a thick layer of fake reasons. Those requests reach him through the eye of observation and before you know it he is a part of your life giving you a last chance to change. Everyone forgets, once devil was an angel too, and he is an angel though he comes in the tortured guise of a devil he is an angel a sweet angel of mercy an angel of death........... and he says to his final victim "I shall heal you're wounds though they are self inflicted and you are undeserving, i shall heal you" but the door splintered and those men of law that flew in like a mass of black rocks thought otherwise.
Indeed, the beauty holding the scale was blindfolded. Miss justice failed to see him for what he was but labeled him for what he seemed, a psycopath without a soul. Like his victims, he too remained silent but it wasn't a request for death. It was more like the silence of a wise man who knows no matter what he says or what he does, his fate was not going to change, this cycle was not going to be broken.

Written in sytemised colloboration with Doubting wise.

The exsquisite corpse.

The exsquisite corpse is a radical method of systemised collaboration. it was first used by the surealists in order to break down the normal functions of the creative brain. It continues to this day as the childrens game consequences. For those unfimilier with this game what does is simple, I would write a short paragraph or sentance, it could be towards the creation of a story line or a poem or even perhaps an essay, it doesn't matter. This would then be sent to a second person who would without any other comunication between the two of us continue to write it by adding another short paragraph or sentance following on from what I have allready written this in turn will then either be sent to a third person or be sent back to the first ie myself who will then continue the process.

Contra – perfection mantra.

We hold that perfection is uninteresting.
We hold that perfection is only what it is.
We hold that perfection is by its very nature inflexible.
We hold that perfection can only be one thing.
We hold that perfection is only found in objects of purpose.
We hold that purpose is detrimental to art.
We hold that perfection is not beauty.
We hold that beauty is relative.
We hold that perfection is impossible.
We hold that perfection is absolute.
We hold that perfection has no details.
We hold that details are of interest.
We
We
Nouveau post ma will not bring things into perfect order nouveau post ma craves you to make your own mind’s up and do such things for yourself.

Propositions.

If the chase is more fun than the catch then chase only for a chase.

If all the world loves a lover then the world just loves itself.

If art is in the eye of the beholder then the beholder is the art.

If such a thing is true then art is a mirror.
There is enough data in the world to prove anything but data is not proof.

new blog

www.thereplacementblog.blogspot.com

something to think about sort of

i am interested into turning this into a proper art and or political and or philosophical movement and so i would need team members [artists, philosophers, politico heads or politicians, writers, poets, and thinkers] for that just have a look at it and contact me if you're interested in signing up or just have something to say to us phillipgdmn@yahoo.co.uk.

persons of interest

friedrich wilhelm nietzsche
neil gaiman
grant morrison
lao tzu
andre nataf
sun tzu
anton zandor la vey
francis fukyuma
robert anton wilson
luke rhinehart
julius evola
plato

more information, correct spelling, and catogrisation to be posted at a later date.

from the pulpit

Sometimes one must do something for the sake of doing it by which I mean for the pleasure of doing it and if there is no pleasure then not do it for the same reason being creative is more important than being than being concise the work itself must exist for itself and its own form one must place the meaning there in the form of the work or not have any meaning at all.