The human being fails because he is expected to fail and because he agrees to fail. For obedience to duty and for a dubious expectation of redemption from contrived failure, we falsely suffer and distort. We must ask: Is it more desirable to agree to fail or to fail to agree? For what, exactly, do we so despise the skeptic? Is it his freedom that we hate?
The use of think-process symbols as enactment for empowered truths has an obvious purpose: the advantage over others by commanded use of tradition and archetype. Youth is led to believe that love, favor and duty are cherished, natural elements when, in symbolic meaning, these things are agreement to never question and to receive love as favor of a share-held mindless duty for credence in right and good.
Deductive thought, the mental domain of the skeptic as empirical observation of what is humanely real, is not taught or practiced. What is taught and practiced are lessons in a made-meant-mean cycle of process-think for absence of thought and occlusion of feeling. The thing that emerges from such teaching is an indistinguishable part of an institutional muscle-brain. Tandem venture within a group structure gives the individual enormous faith in his own converted stealth and cunning. He believes himself fully capable of all cleverness based on reason for group manifest. All pretense to goodness and rightness for reason is laid into a think-housing word compound of what is assumed—and habituated—and what is made-meant to mean—and believed. All that defies belief is placed outside word compound and is held in contempt of reason.
Vying for position and for the spoils of conquest becomes of utmost importance. Submission for reason is the will to destroy. The R.I.P. is behind us and its shadow enshrouds our vested nature. Our falseness is failsafed and governed by the why of what may be called express lane truths. Blame and excuse justify excision after excision by their authority injustice.
Impasse is reason to failsafe last reason held, and then impasse is a final thrust for control. Impasse intends blindness for all but focused reason. Last reason is failsafed by why.
If human beings did not doubt at all, they would be able to assume things at face value. They could assume all truth and goodness and right to be as virtuous as they are touted. However, virtue exists only as manufactured; and it exists in causes set in politics and religion, and these causes are, undoubtedly, correct and true. Keepers of entity stack a subversive deck: one designed exclusively to preserve increments of power.
Religion fabricates the "don't worry plan" of noninvolvement and safe distance for the promise of salvation and heaven at no cost. Religion does not require self interrogation but promises an easy salvation, as though one may receive a stamp and be passed through the elusive gates of heaven as an empty shell; the more vacated, the better; no effective and working faith necessary; no illumination of self with which to contend. One is expected to serve a dormant self while supporting They induction and symbolic following. One can assume that the world of a blind man can disintegrate around him as long as his other senses are overwhelmed and unable to detect impending harm. We claim to want freedom and to have it: from what do we have freedom? What do we forfeit? Is freedom desirable?
Incidents occur daily that provide example of paradoxical thinking. Every incidence is cut off from another and from the cause and effect of each. The distance between such instances is filled with the clamoring for why. There is no piecing together of disconnected reason nor any unraveling of intention for the answer to the riddling of why. Humankind tricks itself into submission for reason and the wholeness of self is annulled. This is suicide. This is self-annihilation.
A minority rules while the majority trails along somewhere between "let's hang on for the ride" and "what are they doing now?" "They" are the holders of system-think logic with think-factory doctrine. "They" are the nay-sayers of what is now and has always been now. How simple it is to discredit the skeptic for his negativity when the positive is, so much, more precisely negative! They become we in subjugated impasse. We all know the uselessness of I.
Mainstream R.I.P. enters full-blown opposition to all that can be passively sensed. The R.I.P. opposes by intent to distort and divide. Doing matters more than not doing and, in R.I.P., progress and time are the reservoirs for useful work. Faster and faster we move with more of less behind us. We confuse symbolic teetering as momentum, consumption as progress, and duty with well-being.
It can be argued that action is always better than no action. Is it? Humans forget if given the chance to do so. In remembrance, fears proliferate and emotional wounds cannot heal. Forgetfulness invites rerun reasons and advances the absurd notion that, because one forgets, one does not care. Our assumptions about caring dictate that remembering is far better than forgetting and that doing is far better than not doing. But life is not lived in favor of singular memories and preferred reasons. What have the actions of doing and remembering to do with the deeply striking feeling of devotion to a perfect self that is supremely loving and innately tender?
Is doing better than not doing? Is promise better than even one audacious step "through the looking glass" of time and remembrance?
The R.I.P. is applied to all things that are remembered and done, even when they are done for the exactitude of duty only. What is forgotten and left undone is presumed to be of little importance, no matter the quick recognition of the eyes behind the eyes that speak more clearly than either the verbal or written word or any action based on duty.
We cultivate false hope and cling to group jargon for whatever may "stir the pot." Any original idea that is uncompromised is suspect; even as it drives deep into reasons stacked. To put forth anything that cannot be neatly agreed-up is taboo. We are rewarded for sublimation of self—to agree, to get along—to let authority intervene as we suck our thumbs and wonder at the control given; the power taken.
The stacking of reasons and the accordance with bland uniformity is voluntary. Sublimated will is the reward. Tranquillity of mind is the forfeit of self and the result of self forfeiture is the right of made-meant-mean intention in think-factory thought. We elaborately dramatize the working principles of reason. Man reasons and ponders his reasons, allows the machinery of the mind to move slightly and then, quickly reverts to produce a set of circumstances that are concurrent with cause and its predisposed and chartered effect.
There is no excused cause in the R.I.P. We trade our mental teeth in favor of softer food. We are processed beings living in a world of processed rules and processed dreams and processed hope.
Try as we may, we have not yet been able to process away the animal: our natural being. The beast is alive in us all. The tighter the noose about his throat, the harder he pulls. We have not yet been able to kill the beast and we cannot completely subdue him. What is it that we, so reasonably, fear? What is it that we take such pains to drape in the vestiges of knowledge and paradoxical agreement and impasse systems logic? Is it the beauty of our own illuminated substance that we have been taught to approach with fear and upon which we practice lessons of insignificant guilt and blame? To know fear, exclusive of reason, and to make it a friend, is to open the corridors to the dynamic self and the introspective sensual phenomenon.
If one has had occasion to listen to the faint beat of a heart near death, to listen carefully to this thing that is like a distant and uncertain drum, then one can understand well the cries of an intrepid and gentle beast. There are cries from humans that speak with the voices from dank reaches; from fields and forests that we once crossed for no reason at all; and to which we must, as mineral and dust, return. By the breaking down of the chemicals of our flesh and the falling apart of our fragile intellect, in the twinkling of an eye our lives are lived without ever having been lived. In death, there is no reason for pity. The pity is in our failure to live. The pity is in half life.
The R.I.P. is contingent upon ignorance and upon false levels of tolerance to the tightening of bounds. Paradox is the over and under perimeters that narrow and hold. It is a synthetic parallax that displaces and shifts two separate views into angular, directed points with