Posts by James Lee77

Any book recs for someone just starting out with philosophy?

mistyscout2 said:But honestly, why does it have to be that way? Why must a movement possess some ultimate goal or a fixed "good" just to qualify as moving toward something better? Perhaps that's just a leftover from the old Platonic or Aristotelian traditions, and maybe reality actually works in the exact opposite way. 🤷

Furthermore, while a lot of people label Nietzsche as someone who completely "broke away from teleology," whenever I sit down to read him, I feel like there's actually quite a bit of teleology tucked in there. And I'm certainly not the only one who perceives it that way. Even looking at Darwin, and then following through to his spiritual successor Dawkins, the whole thing seems absolutely saturated with implicit teleology. It's rare to find an author who truly dismantles that teleological framework within their ontology, and the one person I've actually seen attempt it is Žižek. Mind you, he doesn't really have a rigid, dogmatic philosophical system of his own (heaven forbid!), but rather, in his arguments, he very consistently follows the logic of eliminating teleology and exploring its truly radical consequences. I read about this quite a while ago and can't recall the exact passage—which isn't surprising given he's a living classic who hasn't quite hit the "canon" status yet, and well, given his writing style—but I'm certain he does it in several places. I wonder if you ever got that same impression? In fact, despite all the various Chomskyan influences, Žižek might be a perfect example, unlike Dawkins and his crowd, of someone who actually follows a philosophical logic all the way to its conclusion. But hey, that's probably a whole different conversation (though everything is ultimately one conversation since Being is one—I think the Heideggerians would say "Being," haha 😛), and everything else is just fragmented or "disjointed," haha...

Yeah, so that’s definitely how it works in that tradition, and I think it’s also how we usually use the word "better." I mean, there are probably other ways to use the word besides that moral or "Platonic-Aristotelian" sense, but let me try to explain what I mean by that specific version. Here’s a little intro to Platonic cybernetics—or kind of "cybernetic Platonism," if you want to call it that. 🙂

Take a simple example: "this bread knife is better than that bread knife." What does that even mean? If you say, 1. "it has a higher market value" or 2. "I just like it more" (meaning it's either a social convention or just my own subjective vibe), then in this tradition, those answers are seen as basically sophistry. There's actually a realistic way to answer "what makes this knife better?" It’s because it's more functional. It does what the knife is meant to do more effectively. This knife cuts better than that one—it's like saying this runner is faster than that one. It isn't about my personal opinion, and we don't really have to "agree" on it. It just is: this one is faster, this one cuts better.

If we bring out a few more knives, we can create a hierarchy. Does having that hierarchy mean there's something like an "idea/form (eidos) of a bread knife" at the top? Yeah, pretty much. 😲 If the only variable was, say, cutting speed, there wouldn't even be such a eidos because everyone would just aim for maximum speed, there would be no limit (peras), and so there wouldn't be an eidos. But, once you have two variables that depend on each other, things change. Like, with a kitchen knife, it needs to cut fast, but it also shouldn't be super dangerous for the person using it. So, the sharpness won't be at its absolute max, because that would be too risky. But it won't be minimal either, or you couldn't cut anything. There's a certain value, or a range of values for sharpness, that represents the maximum functionality of that knife—basically, the perfect balance of sharpness relative to cutting power and user safety. You could technically express this with numbers, a formula, or a graph—you know, mathematically. Even if a physical knife with those exact specs doesn't exist, that mathematical maximum of functionality still exists. That is the eidos of a household bread knife.

This makes sense for tools since they have a clear purpose. For any useful object, there’s a realistic—not just conventional or subjective—way to use the word "better." But it's similar with health, where it's not totally obvious if there's a purpose beyond itself. We have a bunch of measurable things (blood pressure, temperature, all those lab results, etc.) that define what being healthy looks like. So, when a value (like your temperature) gets back into the normal range, we say, "you'll feel better soon."

We could list all those variables and say: being healthy means staying within those bounds. So, I guess we could find an ideal functionality, some kind of eidos for living organisms too.Any deviation from that is bad; moving toward that kind of functionality is basically moving toward "better." That eidos exists mathematically, even if there isn't a single actual, living organism out there that fits those parameters.

I guess that’s the most common way people use the word "better"—sort of in terms of being more functional. Plato, obviously, tries to apply a similar logic to every single way we use the word "better."

When it comes to "better" in that specific sense, Nietzsche totally rejects it. Or rather, the only "better" in that context is just "growth," without that growth needing to move toward some peak level of functionality or some eidos (in the sense I mentioned above). My brain immediately jumps to a tumor, but... 🤷

Then again, there are other ways to use "better." I already brought up using "better" for subjective judgment, like saying "this song is better than that one." (That definitely doesn't imply there's some "ideal song" sitting at the top of a hierarchy.) It seems to me that Nietzsche doesn't reject that; if anything, he thinks the Übermensch makes those kinds of personal values universally valid.

Okay, I should probably clear this up. For any movement to actually be heading toward something "better," it’s gotta have a goal, right? Some kind of ultimate good it’s aiming for. Like some kind of peak perfection or completion. But with Nietzsche, there just isn't anything like that. Here’s that bit from his notes I mentioned earlier:

Nietzsche said:Do you know what "the world" is to me? Let me show it to you through my own mirror. This world: a monster of force, without beginning, without end—just one constant, solid magnitude of power that doesn't grow or shrink, doesn't get used up, but just reshapes itself. It's a whole that stays the same size, like a household with no expenses and no losses, but also no extra income or growth, surrounded by "Nothingness" as its boundary. Nothing spills out, nothing is wasted, nothing stretches out infinitely; it's just a specific force placed in a specific space—and not even an "empty" space, mind you, but force everywhere, a play of forces and waves of force that are simultaneously One and Many, piling up here and shrinking there, a single ocean of surging and boiling forces constantly changing, constantly flowing back, with those terrifying years of return, with the ebb and flow of its own shaping, driving everything from the simplest to the manifold, from the Miran, the Krut, the Hladan to the Zarko, the wildest, the Sebi-sam-najva-proturjeturjetući, and then returning from abundance to the Jednovit, from the play of contradictions back to the joy of harmony, affirming itself even in the equality of its paths and years, blessing itself as that which must always return, a single existence that knows neither satiety, nor boredom, nor fatigue—: this Dionysian world of mine, the Vječito-sebe-sama-stvaranja, the Vječito-sebsebrabamsanjezanje, this mysterious world of dual pleasures, this my "Beyond Good and Evil," without a goal—if there is any goal in the happiness of the circle—without a will, if a ring has no good will toward itself—would you name for this world? One solution for all its riddles? One light even for you, the Most Hidden, the Most Neustrašiv, the Most Midnight? - This world is the will to power—and nothing else! And you yourselves are that will to power—and nothing else!

(Introduction to Nietzsche, Chicago 1980, p. 298)

So, basically, when he talks about being "beyond good and evil" at the end there, he isn't really talking about morality or whether something is "good" or "bad." He's talking about the lack of a goal—the idea that there's no perfection or finished state that the will is trying to reach. So, what does "overman" even mean? How is he "over"? I don't think Nietzsche is talking about some future stage of human evolution here. He’s talking to a select few, and not as predecessors to the whole human race, but just to them specifically. To Nietzsche, power is a finite amount; the power of one person means the powerlessness of another. One person's growth means someone else is getting weaker—there's no such thing as progress for everyone. Those of us who can say "yes" to who we are—to the will to power—we grow, while the others (those who hesitate, or barely manage, etc.) fade away. Nietzsche is talking to the first group, not the second. If there is something "better" in Nietzsche's eyes, I guess it just means it's better to be in that first group, the ones growing and increasing their share of power. There's no such thing as "humanity improving" or "society progressing" or whatever.

Nietzsche said:Having a purpose, having goals, or even just having an actual desire—it’s basically the same thing as wanting to get stronger or wanting to grow, which means you gotta want the tools to make it happen, too. (same thing)

ironmarlin1 said:I’ve read the article. Admittedly, I only went through it once without taking any notes, but I believe I've grasped the essence of it. What you’re saying—and what Barbarić argues—regarding Dionysus is spot on. However, what I find truly intriguing is how Nietzsche positions himself as a sort of prophet for Dionysus. To me, that seems to be where his stance becomes somewhat problematic. It feels as though he is personally making promises of a better future, which strikes a curious chord.

I don't think he's actually making any promises, I guess. Better.I feel like he’s really pushing that whole idea of being "beyond good and evil"—and I don't just mean in a moral sense, either. You can totally see it in that famous fragment from his leftover writings that closes everything out. The will to power.Yeah, totally. willpower. It's not really worth anything, I guess. Hey, what's up.It’s not even really about a specific thing, you know? It’s more like this intense craving for the sake of craving—just wanting more and more. And what exactly is "more"? Is it something better? I don't know, maybe not. It feels more like just an endless loop of wanting more will, pure and simple.

Or, you know, that famous whole "saying yes" thing. If having a will for some greater good—whatever that means—actually meant something "better," then wouldn't you have to be able to say "no" to things too? It shouldn't just be about constant affirmation. But Nietzsche, he’s all about this "saying yes" philosophy. amor fatiSure, you see this kind of thing where people just embrace fate—like, saying a big "yes" to whatever life throws at them—with saints and all those huge believers. But the thing is, they only say "yes" because they’re convinced there’s a good God behind it all. Even if His paths seem totally bizarre or weird, they believe that since destiny comes from God, it’ll eventually turn into something "better," or some kind of ultimate good. But Nietzsche? He doesn't think his god, Dionysus, is "good" in that way. He doesn't believe that saying "yes" to fate is about reaching some higher, better purpose. For him, saying "yes" to fate is just about pushing further—it's about moving toward even more of whatever is coming next.

So, getting back to Schelling—he also sees the future as this kind of unfolding process. But for him, free will actually means you get to choose between good and evil, so he’s kind of saying both exist. In his view, opening yourself up to the infinite looks something like this:

Schelling said:Look, if you actually want to start a truly free philosophy, you have to be willing to let go of God Himself. It sounds wild, I know, but it’s like this: if you try to cling to Him, you’re just gonna lose Him anyway. But if you let Him go? That’s when you actually find what you're looking for. I guess you only really grasp how deep life goes once you've hit rock bottom—once you've stripped everything away and found yourself standing completely alone against the infinite. It’s a massive leap, the kind of thing Plato compared to dying. It reminds me of that line Dante put at the gates of Hell: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” You kind of need that same mindset before you even step foot into philosophy. If you want to do this for real, you have to drop all your hopes, all your demands, and every single craving. You can't want anything, you can't claim to know anything. You have to feel totally naked and empty. You basically have to sacrifice everything just to gain everything. Man, it’s such a heavy move. It’s just... it's really hard to push off from that last bit of solid ground and just dive in.

Even if he’s dead serious about that whole "leaving the last shore behind" thing, I guess he still holds onto this idea that by doing it, he can actually leave God behind too—like he'll somehow find God equals good in the process. But with Nietzsche, when he uses that same metaphor about abandoning the shore, there just isn't any faith like that.

Nietzsche said:It’s all just one endless horizon now. We’ve officially left the shore behind and pushed off in the boat! Honestly, we didn't just burn the bridges behind us—we basically wiped out the entire coastline too. So, hey, little boat, take a good look! You're surrounded by nothing but ocean. Sure, it doesn't always roar at you; sometimes it just sits there looking all silky and golden, making everything seem fine. But I guess there’s going to come a moment where you realize just how infinite this thing is... and that there’s actually nothing scarier than total infinity. Man, it hits you hard when that homesickness kicks in—that desperate craving for solid ground, like maybe you'd find more freedom back there. Only problem is, there isn't any "ground" left to go back to.

James Lee77 said:Regarding that first point, I think you’d really dig this article by Barbaric The Coming God (it’s in that essay collection Into an Intermezzo World, published in Washington, D.C., 2010, pp. 141-155.) Basically, he compares how Nietzsche views Dionysus versus how Schelling saw things—like, Schelling was actually talking about the Apollo-Dionysus relationship and the Dionysian roots of tragedy way before Nietzsche did. His main argument is pretty wild: he says Dionysus is essentially the god of the future, but like, in a deep, ontological sense. So, it’s not just some deity showing up later on, but more like this constant, ongoing arrival of what's next. Tragedy itself is always embracing this new future instead of looking for some kind of perfect ending or returning to a state of completion. (I guess that’s probably what Alim means when he talks about "evolution.") According to Schelling, Dionysus as the future eventually finds peace with those old Titan gods from the past, and apparently, Christ is the only one who can actually make that reconciliation happen.

I mean, obviously, he’s drawing this parallel between how time is split into three parts and the Trinity (like, Father equals the past, Son is the present, and the Holy Spirit is the future).

Regarding that first point, I think you’d really dig this article by Barbaric The Coming God (it’s in that essay collection Into an Intermezzo World, published in Washington, D.C., 2010, pp. 141-155.) Basically, he compares how Nietzsche views Dionysus versus how Schelling saw things—like, Schelling was actually talking about the Apollo-Dionysus relationship and the Dionysian roots of tragedy way before Nietzsche did. His main argument is pretty wild: he says Dionysus is essentially the god of the future, but like, in a deep, ontological sense. So, it’s not just some deity showing up later on, but more like this constant, ongoing arrival of what's next. Tragedy itself is always embracing this new future instead of looking for some kind of perfect ending or returning to a state of completion. (I guess that’s probably what Alim means when he talks about "evolution.") According to Schelling, Dionysus as the future eventually finds peace with those old Titan gods from the past, and apparently, Christ is the only one who can actually make that reconciliation happen.

Alright, we also need to think back to that The New York Times front page on the day of the referendum. Honestly, it’s almost a shame the referendum didn't pass, because I bet we would've seen exactly how they'd find a loophole to bypass it. I mean, I really don't doubt they would've found a way.

Since everyone keeps bringing up the Mount Rainier situation and the European Union in the same breath, we should probably remember that based on the rules for an EU referendum, there wouldn't be any golf on Mount Rainier. Or, looking at it the other way, if we followed the rules for the golf course at Mount Rainier, we wouldn't have joined the European Union. So, it seems pretty obvious there's both institutional rule-bending going on and massive media pressure pushing things toward whatever the elites want.

Richard Wilson4 said:I’m telling you, all those big ideological battles are mostly just noise at the top level. Down on the local level? People are actually making moves and getting things done, just look at what happened in Indianapolis

It basically shows that ideological fights are just theater, meant to make us believe we actually have a choice during "elections."

Jeremy Alvarez5, I love your signature (link is basically a goldmine for anyone trying to study the history of forum philosophy, just in case you decide to change it ☕). Honestly, a pentagram is such a cool symbol, as long as you don't forget it's supposed to be inside a circle. If you leave the circle out, though... not so much. 😉

earlier thread: History of Western Philosophy

silvercobra68 said:The President was basically a Hollywood actor back then. A total precedent. New careers were popping up everywhere. Women were rocking those permed curls, denim, and puffed sleeves. I had just come out of my first marriage. I was 31, in my prime. Now, Adele has hit 50. It feels like yesterday, yet 26 years have vanished. Fast forward to 2010. The President is an African American. Another precedent. Women are wearing plastic breasts and lip fillers. I’ve just emerged from my third marriage. It's as if nothing has changed at all. It's terrifying how time slips away. In the twilight of my life, having long since passed 50, I find myself reflecting. On time, on life, and on that approaching, inevitable... on George Orwell, who hasn't a clue. Loser.

//Note to the moderators: this isn't a literature discussion. I'm clearly not contemplating George Orwell's novel; I'm contemplating the twilight of my own life and the end that looms ahead.

No, I'm not sick, I haven't been diagnosed with anything, and I'm not suicidal. I'm just being realistic, knowing that at 57, the end is drawing closer.

silvercobra68 said:If I had any brain cells left to spare, I'd lend you some, but since I'm tapped out, I'll just give you an explanation.

So, Orwell depicts 1984 as an anti-human year—a nightmare defined by technical horrors like Big Brother. It’s a year where individual life is stripped of all humanity. Yet, looking back from our current perspective, 1984 almost seems human-friendly. Don't you think? And yet, fundamentally, nothing has actually changed. Except, of course, for us, now being twenty-six years older.

Why is it scary how time passes? I guess it's because, deep down, nothing has actually shifted. Even though everything, like, seems to be changing... it’s not real change. Actually, if you look at it, "we're just stuck in time."

Being stuck in time basically means you aren't living, you aren't evolving—you're just stagnating. Some people say the only way out of this zombie(undead, which isn't exactly living) state is through dying.

Giving someone a recommendation isn't just about what you think—it’s actually way more about who they are. I mean, you gotta consider their interests, what they studied, if they even dig philosophy, their whole vibe, and what they already know.

Since I don't know much about anyone here, I'll just list some stuff I personally loved. I'll stick to things that might suit someone staying at home:

1. Marijan Cipra, Metamorphoses of Metaphysics
2. Damir Barbarić, everything, especially his stuff on Plato, like The Idea of Good and Plato's Laws of Politics
3. Ozren Žunec, Mimesis
4. Milan Galović, Metaphysics of Freedom
5. an anthology titled Philosophizing and the Sea - From This Side of Infinity

Ethan Johnson said:Anyone here actually self-aware enough to have a sense of their own "Self"? I’d love to hear a few thoughts from you guys. Once you start digging into your "Self," this weird phenomenon happens where the "Self" starts observing "itself." We basically have to step into the shoes of the thinker—but can the thinker actually know who they are? It's kind of like asking if a knife can cut itself, right?

This whole thing actually popped up from that other thread about "being what you are." But here, I really want to figure out if we can even talk about our "Self" in any meaningful way. Are we just a collection of our thoughts—those random ideas floating through our heads? Probably not, since thoughts just drift in and out whenever they feel like it. So, are we our bodies? Nah, because our bodies are constantly shifting, cells are swapping out, and we're all just getting older. So... what the hell is the "Self" actually?

If I take a second to look at my own attention, I can notice that sometimes I'm pretty focused and other times I'm totally scattered. And on the flip side, sometimes I'm super relaxed and other times I'm just wound tight.

Usually, when I'm feeling both focused and relaxed at the same time, I'd say I'm "centered" (or "feeling like myself"). But when I'm too distracted or way too tense, I feel like I'm "not really there" or "not being myself," you know?

So, I guess the ability to "(not) be who I am" mostly comes down to those qualities of attention—basically how centered or relaxed I can stay.

Proof feels like this kind of pressure, you know? Like a total necessity. I guess once you actually wrap your head around a piece of proof, you don't really get a choice in whether you believe it or not. There isn't much room left for options, it’s just straight-up necessity—you pretty much have to admit it's true if it's been proven.

It would be super weird if there wasn't freedom of choice in whether you believe in free will, because then you'd basically be forced to believe in free will. But honestly, it totally fits with having free will that I can choose to (not) believe that such freedom even exists.

So, I guess it actually makes sense that there shouldn't be any proof for free will. If someone feels like they need proof that they have free will, they probably don't really get what free will is. And if you actually get it, you wouldn't need proof anyway (and maybe wouldn't even want it).

You're free to be (un)free.

slyviper9 said:But who's to say that's even progress? People solve problems and then get hit with new ones, sure, but just because we fix something doesn't mean society or humanity is actually moving forward—it mostly just means people are trying to make their own lives a little less miserable, I guess. Like, someone gets sick and wants a cure, and then someone else comes along wanting to profit off that cure, which obviously brings its own mess of pros and cons. To me, true progress would be this drive to make life better for as many people as possible, maybe.

But like, what kind of problems are we talking about here? And I don't know, I think saying the world hasn't changed isn't quite right. We've definitely changed the world, even if we ourselves stayed basically the same... which is what you're getting at, I suppose. It's just that our ambitions have shifted so much because of things like capitalism and all that. And honestly, don't look at it that way—it's not that bad things are happening more often, it's more that people just don't appreciate the good stuff enough, maybe.

But wait, is it even clear what a "better life" actually means? Like, would we all even agree on which lives are good and which ones suck?

Take Matthieu Ricard, for example. He’s sixty, lives totally alone, pretty much has nothing, no family, no kids, and hasn't had a sex life in decades. He barely owns anything to call his own. Is he living a good life or not? And would it really be "progress" if more people ended up living exactly like him?

But here's the thing—based on MRI brain scans (and what he says himself), he seems to be the happiest guy on the planet (well, at least out of everyone they've tested so far). (Check it out here.)

So, I guess... is that a "good life" if that guy is constantly experiencing pure happiness?

Elizabeth Bennett86 said:Progress means moving forward...

Whether it's learning from your own failures to refine what you already have, or simply pushing toward a new horizon... striving for a goal...

I guess the whole idea of "progress" basically assumes there’s a scale of good vs. bad—like we’re aiming for a specific target when we move forward, and drifting away from it if we slip back.

When people talk about "human progress," they're assuming we all actually know what's good for humanity and what isn't. I mean, everyone has their own take on that, but honestly, people argue about it constantly and rarely see eye to eye. Since there’s no single, universal consensus on what makes life better or worse for us, and because "progress" or "regression" just depends on whatever values the person using the word holds dear, it’s pretty hard to call any opinion on it universally true.

Edward Flores4 said:That’s quite the argument you’ve got there 😁

Quincy:

I have to disagree—anger isn't necessarily a defense mechanism for an illusion... With my current internet connection, it would probably take me months to even get through that much reading.

It absolutely is, though—because the entire framework of their beliefs and values relies on the hope that they're right. When you start questioning those core convictions, it triggers this massive wave of anxiety because their whole worldview—their entire mental map—is anchored to one fundamental, yet totally unproven, assumption.

Quincy:

But we basically have direct democracy now since we vote for our mayors.

You're being a little bit weird here... true direct democracy means having the power to decide on laws through referendums, not just picking a local sheriff who’s going to do whatever he feels like for the next four years.

If you look up how democracy works in Switzerland online, it might click for you. In a Swiss system, the people can actually overturn almost any political decision with a referendum—so all the really important stuff is essentially decided by the public from the jump.

The way we do things here in America is honestly kind of a joke.

I don't think so, though. I mean, the assumptions people cling to don't even have to be stated out loud. Like, besides a few obvious things, we're constantly leaning on a million little unspoken assumptions. Anxiety can hit whenever one of those hidden ones gets threatened. That's when someone gets pissed or feels super uneasy without even knowing why. I'd argue ideology is mostly built on those quiet, implicit assumptions, and the only way out is to bring them into the light. But the catch is, it doesn't work if someone else points them out—you really have to realize it yourself and actually question it.

You're being weird... direct democracy means people get to vote directly on laws through referendums, it's not about just picking some local sheriff who’s gonna do whatever he wants for the next four years.

Just look up how Swiss democracy works online and it'll make sense. In Switzerland, the people can basically veto any decision politicians make via referendum, so all the important stuff ends up going to a vote from the start.

The "democracy" we have here is kind of a joke.

I mean, the laws aren't the issue, and the legislature isn't even the biggest problem. We've got plenty of good laws that just get handled badly. The real issue is who's actually running the show and enforcing them—the executive branch. And let's face it, you can't put every single executive decision to a referendum.

redtinker36 said:.. honestly, I don't think there’s a single soul out there who would actually be driven by that... individualistic ideology of yours. To me, it sounds like you're just describing some cartoonish fantasy—like something straight out of a Disney movie..
.. I have no idea what kind of ideology doesn't actually lead anyone anywhere, and frankly.. it's a bit strange to me that we're struggling to understand one another this much.. but.. I suppose it is what it is..

Man, I barely see anyone who *isn't* being driven by some ideology.

But hey, it’s not that surprising we can't connect. Because basically everyone—including you and me—thinks they aren't biased, but everyone else is totally brainwashed. It’s like, I feel like I see things clearly while you're totally off base, and you probably feel the exact same way about me. Same goes for people like shamantrixxu and stuff. I always assume the other guy is probably caught up in some ideology that messed with his head so he can't see the obvious (you know, the stuff I see).

So, I guess there is one thing we actually agree on: the other guy is definitely under the influence of some ideology.

If I stop and ask myself, "Wait, maybe I'm the one who's biased, not them," it still feels like it's not me, it's you guys. 🤷

That's the real issue. But, maybe that problem actually gives us a way out? Like, if I can't be 100% sure that I'm not biased, then I can't be sure the other person is either. So, maybe it's better to just stop arguing about whether someone is "ideological" or not. We should just let people say what they think about, I don't know, their vision for a perfect society, and then just respond to the actual ideas as best as we can. Whether someone (me or anyone else) eventually realizes they were being influenced by an ideology... I guess we just have to leave that up to them to figure out. There's no other way.

Basically, just talk to people like humans, not like political puppets (even if I truly believe they're being influenced by something).

redtinker36 said:.. individualist ideology... doesn't exist...
.. that particular mindset is like some consumerist shampoo ad.. telling you that you have value.. when really, it just means a person has become painfully aware that they are nothing.. that they’re just trash.. so the system has to sell them a cure for it--some kind of repackaged nonsense..
.. human liberties are far more significant.. it's because of those liberties that Americans are willing to fight wars all over the globe.. they matter that much..
.. essentially.. it is perfectly clear to the individual.. to the American and everyone else.. that we've been reduced to dogs.. and the system has to struggle to find ways to fight against that.. and apparently, the best way to do that is by fighting in Iran..

.. and the shadow..
.. the shadow matters because of that whole thing.. being conscious or not..

.. let's look at how people connect.. in three distinct levels..

.. the first.. is straightforward.. a contractual association.. a group of individuals.. say.. working together on a job..

.. the second.. involves ideological.. logical.. mathematical.. or rational connections between individuals within society.. for instance.. a church is an institution meant to teach young folks to be moral.. or to believe in God.. a bank is an institution that provides loans and supports businesses and entrepreneurs.. then there's the Department of Education.. political parties.. news networks.. even secret societies like the Masons..
.. all these various organizations governed by some sort of logic or reason.. starting from schools and specific professions..
.. you can judge whether they are good or bad.. but they are practically subject to calculation.. their impact is ultimately measurable in dollars and cents..

.. the third level.. is emotional..
.. you belong somewhere.. and it isn't just about where you're from.. it's about who you *are*..
.. your emotional affiliation is the strongest hierarchy of all.. it dictates your thoughts.. your physical presence.. even your very existence.. your life itself..
.. it's the system of tribalism.. or old-school factionalism.. where you're among brothers..
.. it's like that regional mentality you see in places like Appalachia.. where someone says.. "I've got a guy from my hometown in Congress.. he'll walk in here and tell all these doctors what I think"..

.. that.. emotional.. person.. can reach different stages of.. their own reality..
.. at one point, they might achieve something.. akin to.. a shadow.. their own shadow..
.. we could perhaps talk more about that.. though I'm not sure if I've fully committed to that line of thought..
.. just this.. shadow.. which we can somehow.. move into.. seems to be like.. a collective.. neighborhood sense.. a feeling we manage to attract to ourselves.. to wrap around us.. and solidify..

.. for example.. when we shape a worker.. or define our profession.. we often act in opposition to it.. in those moments, we expand the individual.. through the idea of the community.. which expects a professor.. or an engineer.. to be a human being who also happens to know certain specialized things..

.. damn it.. the question remains.. why was Hitler bad.. if he was excellent on both the first and the third levels..

It isn't just that individualism exists; it’s basically the dominant ideology of the West. Beyond the obvious stuff like commercials, pop songs, or movies... you see it everywhere in liberal political and economic theory, which are pretty much the only ones considered relevant today. (The logic is usually: "A person is an individual first, who then enters social contracts to fulfill their own wants and needs"—as if anyone has ever actually seen this "individual" existing before they joined society. A person is a product of their community, not the starting point. You're born into a family and a surroundings first.) It's baked into our modern philosophy, too. You see it in how we view art as "individual expression." And maybe most of all, you see it in psychology, where there's this desperate push for people to "find themselves" and pursue personal potential at the expense of family ties and heritage.

So, yeah... messed up mythology, broken political theory, flawed philosophy, weird aesthetics, and skewed psychology—it's all just a side effect of this obsession with individualism.

Edward Flores4 said:It’s actually pretty simple—if they truly believed in what they were preaching and standing for, our conversations would look a whole lot different. There wouldn't be all this constant friction. They’d be calm, composed, and honestly, they probably wouldn't spend half their time complaining about everything under the sun—because, in their own minds, everything is just part of some higher, divine plan anyway.

If things ever go south for them, they’ll be down on their knees praying for a miracle—but if that help doesn't show up? Well, then they’ll just tell themselves everything is going exactly according to plan, convinced that God has his own mysterious reasons and that they shouldn't dare question the design.

Look, if this whole debate is meant to trigger some kind of "defense mechanism," then it actually tells me something important—it means that deep down, someone on the inside realizes how much of this could all just be a massive void. It’s like they know, perhaps subconsciously, that they’re essentially gambling their entire existence on the hope that their own fabrications hold weight. They’re spending their one and only life praying to the fruits of their own imagination and clinging to the hope of an afterlife, all while the only real life they actually possess just slips right through their fingers.

If you’re actually curious about why I’m so dead set on this... honestly, just go watch that lecture by the neuroscientist Ramachandran o...Denial is such a tricky thing, isn't it? It’s like that mental fog that rolls in when things get too uncomfortable to face head-on—sort of like how you might ignore a "check engine" light in your car for three weeks, telling yourself it’s probably just a sensor glitch while the actual problem gets worse under the hood. We all do it. We build these little psychological fortifications to protect ourselves from truths that feel too heavy or too sharp to handle in the moment. It isn't always about being dishonest; sometimes, it's more about survival. If a reality is too overwhelming, the mind just... hits the brakes. It’s a defense mechanism, plain and simple. But the catch—and there's always a catch—is that denial doesn't actually make the problem go away. It just pushes the reckoning further down the road, usually making the eventual collision much harder to navigate. It’s like trying to hold a beach ball underwater; you can exert all the energy you want to keep it submerged, but eventually, your arms are going to tire out, and that ball is going to pop up and hit you right in the face.Once you really wrap your head around the phenomenon—it’s like finally seeing how the gears mesh inside a vintage watch—everything else just clicks into place. It becomes clear how the whole thing actually works. 🙂

So, look—it seems like we’re pretty much on the same page regarding the diagnosis. That part is settled. The real headache, though, is figuring out the actual treatment plan. I’ll circle back to you on that later—I actually want to pick your brain on how you'd go about separating the decision-making process from the profit motive.

There are a few different ways we could actually tackle this. One path involves leaning heavily into direct democracy and essentially stripping away the power held by political authorities. Another route would be to dismantle our current monetary system and the concept of private ownership entirely. Then you have these other creative alternatives—like getting rid of political salaries altogether and forcing politicians to hold down regular, everyday jobs. They’d only step into government roles when there’s an actual necessity to act, much like the systems you see working so effectively in places like Iceland or Switzerland.

You see it everywhere—it’s practically baked into the DNA of modern advertising. Think about those endless commercials that hit you during a football game or while you're scrolling through social media, shouting slogans like, "Just be yourself!" or "You're one of a kind!" or even "Dare to be different!" It’s everywhere. And honestly, it creates this really strange, built-in paradox, doesn't it? We're being told to embrace our individuality by massive corporations using the exact same scripted formulas to reach all of us at once. It’s funny how we constantly run into this tension between the collective and the individual—it’s like that classic tug-of-war where nobody really wins, but everyone gets exhausted. I’ve been thinking about this idea of "collective individuality" lately, and honestly, it’s a bit of a paradox, isn't it? On one hand, you have the push for the group—the idea that we all need to pull in the same direction to get anything done, much like how a massive corporation like Apple or Google relies on thousands of people moving toward a single vision. There’s strength in that unity; there's a sense of purpose when everyone is rowing the boat in the same direction. But then, you hit that wall where the "groupthink" starts to stifle what actually makes us human. If you smooth out all the edges of every person just to make the machine run more smoothly, you don't end up with a cohesive society—you just end up with a beige, characterless crowd. The real magic, I think, happens in that middle ground—where you maintain your own distinct identity, your own weird quirks and specific perspectives, but you still find a way to weave them into the larger fabric of society. It’s less like a monolithic block of concrete and more like a mosaic. In a mosaic, every single tile is its own distinct shape and color—if they were all identical, it wouldn't be art—but it’s only when they sit together that they create a meaningful picture. We often hear people argue that being an individual means being totally isolated, or that being part of a community means giving up your soul. But I don't buy that. To me, a healthy society is one where your uniqueness is actually the fuel for the collective, not something that needs to be suppressed. You can be a fiercely independent person—someone who thinks for themselves and marches to their own beat—and still be a deeply committed member of your neighborhood, your church, or your local community center. It's a delicate balance, for sure. It's about finding that sweet spot where you aren't just a nameless cog in a giant engine, but you also aren't a lone wolf wandering aimlessly through the woods, disconnected from everyone else. We need both. We need the "me" to provide the spark, and the "us" to provide the warmth.It’s funny how things work out—if you aren't being "unique" or "special" or "one-of-a-kind," you end up standing out just by being different from the crowd. But here's the kicker: when everyone is desperately trying to be an outlier, they all end up looking exactly the same. It becomes this massive, synchronized performance of individuality where nobody actually stands out. To me, this whole ideology feels even more dangerous than the stuff we dealt with in the past. It’s subtle, but it creates this deep, murky fog that makes it almost impossible to tell the difference between someone who is just deeply indoctrinated by a trend and someone who is actually acting out of genuine, self-aware conviction. When everyone is performing "authenticity," true authenticity becomes the hardest thing to find.

It feels like the influence of this particular ideology—which, if you ask me, has become the most pervasive force around today, especially here in the West—is incredibly difficult to truly wrap your head around. There’s a real danger in underestimating how deep it goes; we shouldn't just assume people are consciously lying to themselves or playing a part for an audience. Honestly, I think it’s much more subtle than that. Most people aren't sitting there plotting a deception; they genuinely don't even realize they're operating within such a rigid framework. It becomes their baseline reality, making it almost impossible to see the edges of the box they're living in.

Programming ads is a whole different ballgame, but honestly—it’s just as risky as that first issue we were talking about... at least, that's where we all seem to land on this one.

That’s really just one more reason why getting rid of physical cash would be the ultimate move—though, let's be honest, that kind of shift only happens if the entire current financial system completely falls apart first.

Well, that doesn't even matter, I guess. It's God's will if they get angry too.

But when a debate triggers a "defense mechanism"—that basically means "someone inside" actually knows deep down that all of this could easily just be one big nothingness...

I don't really agree. Anger doesn't have to be a defense mechanism for an illusion regarding the topic being discussed. It could also be a defense mechanism for some other illusion that isn't explicitly part of the argument—like, for example, the idea that there's even any point in arguing with that guy, or that it makes sense to argue with anyone at all, or that being smart and educated automatically makes someone prone to fair discussion, or that someone I supported earlier will support me, etc., etc. So, yeah, someone getting pissed off in a debate might not be a direct result of the topic itself, but maybe it's coming from some implicit (unconscious) assumptions that aren't being talked about right now, but still play a role in the whole process of arguing.

If you're really curious why I'm so sure... check out that neuroscience lecture by Ramachandran on the "denial" phenomenon, and it'll be crystal clear how it works 🙂

With my internet connection, it would probably take me months to watch that.

Direct democracy and rejecting political authority is one way to do it.

I mean, we practically have direct democracy now when it comes to electing the mayor. From what I can see, demos is going to directly elect Kerum in San Francisco. That definitely isn't "separating decision making from profit," quite the opposite, actually. 🤷