Nietzsche - Beyond Good and Evil - Part One - 4

We do not consider the falsity of a judgment as itself an objection to a judgment; this is perhaps where our new language will sound most foreign. The question is how far the judgment promotes and preserves life, how well it preserves, and perhaps even cultivates, the type. And we are fundamentally inclined to claim that the falsest judgments (which include synthetic judgments a priori) are the most indispensable to us, and that without accepting the fictions of logic, without measuring reality against the wholly invented world of the unconditioned and self-identical, without a constant falsification of the world through numbers, people could not live – that a renunciation of false judgments would be a renunciation of life, a negation of life. To acknowledge untruth as a condition of life: this clearly means resisting the usual value feelings in a dangerous manner; and a philosophy that risks such a thing would by that gesture alone place itself beyond good and evil.

Slutnja

Dal da te pitam jel to ljubav umire?
Il mi to samo slutnje govore..
Ili da cutim, da te nista ne pitam.
I iz tvog oka sve procitam.

Whom Am I?* - Mikail Bakunin

Whom Am I?

By Mikail Bakunin

I am neither a scientist, nor a philosopher nor even a professional writer. I have written very little in my life-time, and have only ever done so in self-defense, so to speak, and then only when heartfelt conviction obliged me to overcome my instinctive repugnance towards any public display of the inner me.

Who am I then, and what it is that now impels me to publish this work? I am a zealous quester after truth and a no less passionate foe of the malignant fictions which the party of order, that official, privileged representative of interest in every past and present religious, metaphysical, political, juridical, economic and social turpitude, seeks to utilize to this day in the brutalization and enslavement of the world.

I am a fanatical lover of liberty, regarding it as the only setting amid which men’s intellect, dignity and happiness can increase and grow: not the quite formal liberty doled out, measured and regulated by the State, that ageless lie that in reality never stands for anything other than the privilege of the few, based upon the enslavement of the whole world: not the individualistic, selfish, petty and fictitious liberty peddled by J.-J. Rousseau, as well by all those other schools of bourgeois liberalism, which look upon so-called universal rights, as represented by the State, as a limit upon the rights of the individual being whittled away to nothing.

No, I mean the only liberty truly deserving of the name, the liberty that comprises of the unrestricted expansion of all of the material, intellectual and moral potentialities existing in every person in latent form: the liberty that acknowledges no other restrictions than those laid out for us by the laws of our own natures: so that, strictly speaking, there are no restrictions, because those laws are not foisted upon us by any external law-maker living either alongside or above us: they are, rather, immanent, and inherent within us, representing the very foundation of our being, material, intellectual, and moral alike: instead of finding them curtailments, we should look upon them as the actual conditions and effective grounding for liberty.

I mean that liberty of every individual which, far from stopping in front of the liberty of one’s neighbor as in front of a boundary-marker, instead discovers in it an endorsement of itself and its extension into infinity: the freedom of the individual uncircumscribed by the freedom of all, freedom in solidarity, freedom in equality: freedom triumphant over brute force and the authority principle which was never anything other than the idealized expression of that force: liberty which, having once toppled all heavenly and earthly idols, will lay the groundwork for and organize a new world, the world of solidary humanity, upon the ruins of all Churches and all States.

I am a staunch advocate of economic and social equality, because I know that, outside of such equality, liberty, justice, human dignity, morality and the welfare of individuals as well as the prosperity of nations will never be anything other than so many lies. But, while I am a supporter of liberty, that primary condition of humanity, my reckoning is that equality should be established in the world by means of spontaneous organization of labor and of collective ownership of producers’ associations freely organized and federated into communes, and, through the equality spontaneous federation of those communes – but not by means of State supervision from above.

This is the point which is the main bone of contention between the revolutionary socialists or collectivists and the authoritarian communists who argue in favor of absolute initiative on the part of the State. Their goals are the same: both parties wish to see the creation of a new social order rooted exclusively in the organization of collective endeavor, inescapably incumbent upon each and every body in consequence of the force of things, in equal economic circumstances for all and in collective appropriation of the instruments of labor.

Except that communists imagine that they can bring this through development and organization of the political power of the working classes and principally of the urban proletariat, abetted by bourgeois radicalism, whereas revolutionary socialists, enemies to any and all equivocal connivance and alliance, take the contrary view that they can only achieve that goal through the building-up and organization, not of the political, but rather of the social and thus anti-political power of the laboring masses of town and country alike, including all men of goodwill from the upper classes who, breaking with their entire past, would frankly be willing to join hands with them and embrace their program in its entirety.

From this derive two different methods. The communists believe they have a duty to organize the work force in order to take over the political power of States. The revolutionary socialists organize with an eye to the destruction, or, if one would prefer a more polite expression, the liquidation of States. The communists are supporters of the principle and practice of authority, whereas revolutionary socialists place their trust exclusively on liberty. One and all are equally supporters of science which is bound to kill off superstition and supplant faith, but the former would like to impose it: the others will strive to disseminate it, so that human groups, once won over, may organize themselves and federate spontaneously and freely from the bottom up, on their own initiative and in accordance with their real interests, but never according to some pre-ordained plan foisted upon the ignorant masses by the handful of superior intellects.

The revolutionary socialists reckon that there is a lot more practicality and wit in the instinctive aspirations and actual needs of the popular masses than in the profound intelligence of all these doctors and teachers of humanity who still seek to put their shoulders to the wheel of so many failed attempts to bring them happiness. Revolutionary socialists, on the other hand, think humanity has let itself be governed for a long time, indeed, far too long time, and that the source of its afflictions resides, not in this or that form of government, but in the principle and in the very practice of any government whatever.

There at last is the contradiction, now become historic, that exists between the communism scientifically developed by the German school and in part embraced y the American and English socialists, on one hand, and Proudhonism, extensively expanded upon and taken to its logical consequences, on the other, as embraced by the proletariat ot Latin countries.

Contemplative

Demons are scratching at my door.
It's locked!!!
Shadowy reflection in the puddle of memories
Doesn't
stare
Back.
Regret is crawling towards me
Across the dirty floor.

Manic

Night,
fallen like head
from guillotine

Brought polluting thoughts

Manically pacing desire helped
with loneliness

Finally cut all the knots

And beautiful mistake was born.
...................

Screaming.

Biting.

Eating the heart of its own.

You came
on the wings of the darkness

Rabid dogs were still all out

Run!

Inform the officers of madness:

Their pets are running freely.

I didn’t have time to warn you

What gathering was all about.

Then silence, subtle and calm

Incoming artillery fire

Lines ran away from my palm

I stomped and trampled desire.

Never I led you to ruin

Never I left you in pain

This life is of my own doing

Recipe of all things insane.

With forehead pressed against window

Raindrops laughing at my face

My armor feels so heavy

My heart heavier in disgrace.

In the cracked throat

An army of thoughts amassed

The sea of rabid lunatics

Longing for freedom at last,

Strangling

Iron bars of the sanatorium.

Leap!

 2015

Murderer (Redux)

Murderer

Failed. My attempts to save the thought

Frantically digging through the walls of mind

Battles that have been brutishly fought

In blood, the truce is finally signed.

Knife rusted in caustic memories

Slaughters remainders of my callous heart--

The heart,

Bent on betraying me once more

The old Judas,

Murderer!

Whore!!!

Waiting for the worst possible moment

To flee the battle and beat no more. 

Don’t bother loving me, don’t waste your talents

Don’t let your hair touch my lips

hung to the floor.

The most beautiful scent that I can remember

Was scent of you that I once wore.

Earthquakes creating new islands rumble

Night stranglers whisper to those long dead

Shell of my heart, I let you crumble

All the love in you,

Already bled.

How worthy now are all of my words?

Eternally damned, mind foams with contempt

With slush of knowledge I shielded my ruins

But from destruction was not exempt.

I still remember, and will forever

Unto the tiniest detail

None shall escape this torture chamber

There are no exits from this cold jail.

Each one will further crucify soul

With dull nails of fleeting memory

And each one curse it to roam forever

In darkness

Even after all is but history.

Which idols to put up on pedestals now?

Icons of old age have long been buried.

In iron darkness what’s there to vow?

In front of whom children are to be married?

I’m asking, Father, beside your grave stone

You squandered your time in murderous rage

No one, no longer sits on that damned throne

Of war, and avoidance

we’ve entered the age.

Conscious of it, I can’t help but wonder

If imitation is the biggest compliment of all.

I’ll reason.

I’ll try it.

And just before its flag I hang on the wall 

I’ll smash it, so not to spit in my face. 

So no one can see me

Nor recognize

Of the old faker, similarity or trace. 

Wake up! Pry open those soulless eyes.

You still don’t realize that the very thing hurting

With flood,

With Famine

And all the sweet lies

Are the best that impotent father could muster.

In all the glory he was falsley asserting.

Look at the silly bewildered beasts

Of his dim-witted, backward “creation”

All the mistakes and the incompetence 

Gave us “the people”

And gave us “nations”

To whom do you belong? To whom would you pray?

Just to be called one of their own?

With hammers,

With blood

And tears of all victims

The seeds of new era here must be sown.

To blossom in the bloodiest sunrise

To color the oceans with fear of new -

From your own fear and nightmarish mind

It rises,

Squeezes,

Slowly strangles

All guards of The Old, screaming “The Coup!!!”

The fingers of steel cannot just stop

Nor let go easily of my dried-out throat

To wake up,

Cheat,

And come out on top

To laugh at God’s face

And all He wrote.

You mumble, grimace, you holy madman

Your son has drawn the sword from its sheath.

Don’t turn, I am only few steps behind you.

Long is the fall to darkness beneath.

Cut of the blade makes the Heavens cry

It’s my own doing, making me weep

The masses mourning the death of the sky

Weeds of the old faith 

Time is to reap.

Mama,

Your son has become the murderer of creation.

Mama,

He chained the God to his feet.

Mama,

Not for a moment his hand did tremble.

Mama,

Is that the destiny that he must meet?

Serene, standing

On battle bruised cloud

A child after the murderous act. 

Smiling at my own shadow

Angry.

Loud.

At peace with odds against me stacked.

For a moment or two 
I'll allow the world

See what it sorely, for ages, lacked.

Then I will call out with voice of thunder

Look at me!!! 
Judgment now stands above.

The edge of new sunrise will hide the old blunder.

I bring you no peace.

I bring no love.

Cry to no end, marvel the failures

Eternally we have been suffering for.

Then settle, 
hear me.

Feel your skin crawl.

Listen up!

I am coming forth.

2015

I've always loved you

Before you knew my name

When we were just mere strangers

The star fell from the sky

landed

in your eye

I didn’t suspect, but even then

I knew

I’ve always loved you.

From the failed attempt of romance

My heart clawed at my throat

Floating above ground in lock with you steps

In spasm hiding one

Simple

Truth:

I’ve always loved you.

I disappeared without words or traces

In silence I turned my back

Hid in July night’s thousand faces

Insulting heavy tears on my back.

I’ve always loved you.

When lie melts into all world I’ve known of

You’ll come back in silence,

And all locks breaking.

I have no way out, for as long as I live

Wounded, the heart is still yours for taking.

I’ve always loved you.

2014