PoMo response

My whole upbringing took place in the context of a civil war.   This war was declared in 1965.  I was born in 1968. So the first fifteen years of my life were defined by war – father often away on call up, people being declared dead every night on television…”Security forces has issued a communique…”   so this aspect of being at war is part of my nature.  That is why I take a swipe at things like religion (which in my case was almost an emotional death sentence) and psychoanalysis (same).

I am particularly hostile toward those who would like to undermine or suppress my warlike nature, which is my real self.   That is why I so dislike, or hate, postmodernist, who would seem to require me not to differentiate myself from others or to oppose anything I don’t like, but to acquiesce to a general, bland sameness.  I am in general, a very hostile person, then, when I am not at war, but when I am in the martial arts class or opposing something with all my heart, I feel calm, for then I have returned to my natural element.

In general, I am African, and I wish Western people all best of luck with it, if they think they can benefit from being ecstatically open.

I don’t see any problem, by the way, concerning any kind of corruption of institutionalized religion.  I just wasn’t brought up with a need for that kind of narrowness, but I have no particular moral opinion about it, only my dislike.  I am free to reject a system that has proven itself to have no particular defects, just because I dislike it.

American either-or thinking is very strange.  Losing emotional control is not exactly possible for me.  The more threatening a situation is, the more tightly controlled I become.   In fact, my thoughts become very finely focused and exacting, like seeing body heat through a police helicopter camera.   These are my moments of divine revelation, where everything pulls together and makes sense and I finally know exactly what to do.

So, the whole Western cultural thing, where the self has a structure that needs the postmodernist solution of trying to be more open so as to have ecstatic experiences does not resonate for me, in terms of what I, personally, need to do.

Also, I am also skeptical of much of the binary conceptualizing of contemporary leftism.   But also, I think it is a lost cause.  I think contemporary leftism has found its ultimate resting place, up it own anus.  Long may it rest in peace.

I’m very much against any kind of moral reformism, of any sort, including and perhaps especially leftist moral reformism, because I’ve been subjected to way to much of that in my lifetime.   Leftists have always tried to reform me.  I’m the only “identity” that it is viable to hate.  I am, and was, quite literally, a colonial.   So, I see the hypocritical underside of the postmodernist leftist beast, and its need for moral vengefulness against somebody.   I don’t expect you to understand this, by the way.   It takes some experiencing – and even then, you may not know what hit you.

I just don’t like Western culture overall and have no use for it.  I would be the last person to morally reform it, or to “heal” it.  Not my job.  My focus is related to Zimbabwe.

To go further, I really don’t understand the Western “soul” at all – what its needs or wants are.   Often it wants directly the opposite to me.  I don’t want to get close enough to see if this is a sickness.  I don’t care deeply enough.  I think it has to find its own way.  Foucault cannot help it.  That’s a funny joke.   But don’t make me reflect too deeply on this joke, or I will start to talk of “sickness”…..

apeshit

I’d put it about on the level of psychoanalysis.  There is a certain amount of probability to this.  Let us name that “science”.  Mostly, however it’s not science, but art, at least if it is to be realistic and effective.

With this in mind, I can consider the meanings of facial imagery more deeply.  Let’s look at the first one.  This is my apehead as it stands — the face with which I interact with everybody publicly.  I see some intensity, which may be related to my full contact sparring drills a few days earlier.  The bridge of my nose is narrower than the one below, which means greater perfectionism and (perhaps) vulnerability to criticism (including self-criticism) than my private self would take into consideration.  The frown lines, permanently etched from my early twenties, mean I am too hard on myself.  The slight crows feet mean I am emotionally open to others, not closed.   The thinner upper lip means circumspection.  The wide forehead implies an intellectual drive and emphasis.  I’m not that idealistic or concerned about aesthetics or my eyebrows would be higher.  My jaw is fairly square, which means I stick to my views.

1

2. The second picture seems to be a ninja version of myself.  According to the dodgy not-quite-science of facial reading, this is my private self — the real, inner self.  Let’s not get all Nietzschean here and assert the subtleties of the matter:  the original picture may have been taken slightly on an angle.  It’s possible that one eye isn’t actually Asian.  One eye Asian and the other Caucasian – I’m not quite sure.

In any case, perhaps quite generally, this portrays my inner self — being the self that doesn’t feel the impulse go engage overtly in societal dramas.

You can see the bridge of the nose is wider — implying a more hard-nosed approach of indifference to societal mores.  Also, I’m not quite as sincere (naive) as anybody might have hoped, but rather interested and mischievous.

Comparing my portraits, top and bottom, I see  in the first a cerebral emphasis, with more of a sensual/physical emphasis in the second.

This stands to reason.  Often in life, I have been defeated or thwarted in the public domain, but although this is upsetting, my underlying personality, being immensely strong and resilient, gives me great reassurance.

If the first picture portrays the tertiary layer of my self, the second shows the foundational layer.  It’s a less cerebral level, but more instinctive,  also more hard nosed, more defiant (the stronger jawline) and indifferent to opinion-makers.

It does not trouble me to fall back onto this layer because I know I won’t fall far.  In fact, it may be the means to get the insights I need to move ahead.

 

But-tock skins

http://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2012/01/23/are-you-thin-or-thick-skinned-knowing-your-emotional-type/

Apparently, in the overall scheme of things, I am slightly thick-skinned.

This graph doesn’t really tell you very much about me though, because it would make one’s boundaries out to be an issue of character, rather than of culture or experience.

My African personality, for instance, would be measured by the chart above as “thin-skinned”, even though the tendency to diffuse one’s sense of self into others is also a recipe for psychological resilience and a militaristic group definition, within the African social context.  If you don’t understand what I mean, listen to African harmonizing and understand how this expression of psychological oneness has the capacity to mutate into an effective war chant:

(Sorry about the flag)

My self that resulted from Western cultural conditioning is definitely “thick-skinned” in that I really don’t feel what other Western individuals are feeling — and most often have no desire  for that.

left and right modalities

Allegedly external self (two right sides)

Allegedly internal self (two left sides)

In theory — the right side reveals the left side of our brain, which is logical, analytical, sequential and verbal. The left side reveals our sense of taking in things as a whole, which is nonverbal, private, observant.

 

Honestly, which of these two would you prefer to meet in the middle of the night?

It has been said of me that as a typical woman (an assertion yet unproved), I must necessarily have a sensitive, delicate soul beneath the cool exterior. I’ve often wondered, myself, whether I had an inside-out soul (psyche) compared to most Westerners, because this sensitive, retiring side n’existe pas.

Certainly, my more delicate side seems to be my public side (the top photo). I’m happy to get along with people on the basis of logic, reason and understanding. Shatter my public self and I rarely cry. Certainly, my more delicate side seems to be my public side (the top photo). I’m happy to get along with people on the basis of logic, reason and understanding. Shatter my public self and I rarely cry. My laughter erupts, instead, intense and prolonged.

Why would someone want to mess with something that is working out well for them? To attack my public self in any way is playing into my hands. Like losing one arm in the middle of a fire, and realizing one has grown a far superior arm instead, I fall back onto my strengths, which involve taking the whole picture into account instead of trying to treat it piecemeal.

It’s natural and automatic for me to embrace the left hand path. I operate with an unwavering sense of certainty on it.

The left hand path involves being able to take in reality as a whole. One has to know when to speak and when not to speak and which provides the maximal advantage. One can also notice that one does not need to set a trap, as others will walk into those traps they’ve already set for others. Make good use of timing and they will ensnare themselves.

Anti-feminists (misogynists) tend to do this a lot to themselves, because they set a trap based on false premises — namely that women are weaker than they appear.

To embrace the left hand path, by the way, does not involve being passive but deeply understanding the whole picture and working on your timing.

Those who rely on right hand methods — exerting control, instruction, narrow thinking and verbal communication — will often become so obsessive that they overlook how having a larger view and getting your timing exactly right is enough to defeat a relatively narrow-minded method of attack. This is especially so when you consider that the left hand path permits energy conservation.

When Bataille was lying low in rural France, with tuberculosis and waiting for the Nazis to invade, he stated, “We will defeat them with our immanence.” [See On Nietzsche]. In other words, it’s all about timing and never deviating from one’s integral path.

We will defeat them in their end.

Christian hangover

I’ve been looking over a previous post where someone demanded in effect that I explain why Nietzschean philosophy would not lead to genocide.  I declined to answer at the time because it seemed like a loaded question, which no answer would be sufficient to solve.  For instance, one could ponder long and hard on whether the stock market might not lead to genocide.   One could ponder the same about nature reserves — but then it becomes more obvious the question is loaded.

en one is misunderstood as a whole, it is impossible to remove completely a single misunderstanding. One has to realize this lest one waste superfluous energy on one’s defense.”  – said Nietzsche.

 

It could be argued that because one hasn’t understood something, the other party has done a poor job in conveying its meaning.   My interlocutor in fact did try to present this view — namely that Nietzsche is a poor communicator because this interlocutor and others could not discern Nietzsche’s intentions regarding morality.

When communication devolves into mindless rhetoric — “I can’t understand this, therefore it must be wrong!” — I think this is the last splutter of communication as a human possibility.   Personally, I can’ t understand the majority of things in the universe.  Much of complex physics escapes me and the efforts I had to go to, to crack Nietzsche, spanned a couple of decades.  To my credit, not very often during this time did I conclude, “I can’t understand this, therefore it must be wrong.”   I probably did have a couple of lapses like that, but they were not many.   Had I lapsed too often in this manner, I would certainly have given up the project of ever understanding Nietzsche, or any other philosopher for that matter.

Real understanding takes time — but there are also mental barriers.  To put it delicately, the mind is a palimpsest.   Into it has been etched all the ideas and ideologies of one’s society and one’s time.  Some of these ideals have left deep scores in one’s subconscious; others less so.  In all, though, there is something written there, giving emotional structure to one’s meanings.  The emotional sense of what is real and what is important may seem so compelling that one can’t imagine others having a different way of seeing things.   Nonetheless, this is not only possible, but happens again and again.   Depending on historical circumstances and culture and other events, we vary in our ways of making sense of the world.  This ought to be the basic knowledge we bring when handling others or engaging with their questions.

When someone asks me to explain a philosophy, they should come armed with the knowledge as to whether they would like me to explain Nietzsche to them in his terms or in theirs.   One might go to a football game and, not understanding the rules, ask to have them explained.  Alternatively, one could go to the game and complain that it is incoherent as it fails to communicate its purpose effectively.   “It doesn’t make any sense to me at all.  Explain football to me in terms of cricket.   I’m familiar with cricket,” he says, “but at the moment football isn’t communicating.”  If I had tried to explain football in terms of cricket, the interlocutor would go  away feeling wiser which actually being more confused.   Similarly, Nietzsche can’t be explained in terms of morality any more than Football can be explained in terms of cricket.   

It’s not just a cognitive issue, but an emotional one as well.   Judeo-Christian morality has often found a place in one’s emotional structures.  It gives life meaning.   For instance, in my twenties, I thought the goal of life was to morally perfect oneself.    Looking back on it, it seems absurd.  For reasons I will never be able to gauge, I had presumed that I could get ahead in life by exhibiting perfection in the public sphere and being a people-pleaser.   Coming from repressive, proper, right-wing Rhodesia, I suspect I was only acting according to what my socialization had put into me.   It made me deeply unhappy.  I was very angry about a lot of things, but you wouldn’t have known it, because I didn’t feel angry.  I didn’t feel much of anything at all, except for the barbells of duty sliding here and there upon my shoulders.   They were slim shoulders and I didn’t carry them well.   Life seemed heavy and oppressive.  I had no idea I was, but I was in a rage.

Then I began reading Nietzsche and an  immediate effect was an alleviation of part of the burden of Superego.   I began to realize I was unhappy because I’d locked myself into a cage of my own making.   I was sitting inside a gilded cage trying to pump a weight eight or nine times my size.   Nobody knew of this torture but me, and I had invented it.

The process of blasting away at my own mental structures, to free myself, took many years.   The point was to explode the structure of the prison without destroying myself.  Of course, this prison was part of my mind, so I did end up destroying quite a lot of myself, too.   I did this by means of “transgression” — by going against the grain of certain patterns of behavior I’d been taught.  As I made progress, my physical health improved and I no longer suffered from colds and viruses perennially, as I had in the past.  I lost the ache around my neck and shoulders and unclenched my permanently tight jaw. By incorporating aspects of Nietzsche’s philosophy, my body began to recover from years of abuse.   My mind itself had not properly grasped Nietzsche yet.  It took another couple of decades, during which time I dismantled and restored myself.

Purely from my own experience, I can understand why some people find Nietzsche difficult to grasp.  If the palimpsest of one’s mind has been written over by a moral ideology, one will not grasp what one reads too easily.  That takes a lot of time and effort.   That effort won’t be worth it if one is happy just the way one is.  I was certainly miserable, but in some cases, people imbibe just enough Christianity to keep them happy.  A small amount of poison can produce levity, as when alcohol benumbs the brain.

One becomes healthier through reading Nietzsche, so long as one does not combine his thoughts with Christian precepts or try to read his writings under the oppression of Superego.  These mental contaminants lead to a Naziification of Nietzsche  which won’t be health-giving.  A reader who wishes only to understand Nietzsche through a moralizing lens will go away with a distorted understanding of the game, which he regrettably mistakes for mental clarity.  There can be no short cut on the path to real understanding.

Bataille was also useful.  Bataille is Nietzsche’s 20th Century pupil.   He has some differences with Nietzsche, because they come from different centuries, which leads to having different purposes.   Whereas Nietzsche adopts an aristocratic tone, Bataille speaks to the barbarian in me.   For all the polite English manners and repressed emotions, Rhodesians were barbarians and had there not been a barbarian in my basement, my jaw would not have been fixed so tight.   In fact, this barbarian wanted to go to war, to rage and to kill everybody.  I had to let him out slowly.  So that he didn’t kill me.

He had been in there too long and now his volcanic rage knew no bounds.  I wrapped him in soothing layers of dry ice, so that he didn’t kill me.   Then I looked for avenues where it was safe to vent.  I knew I could definitely kill a distant stranger by that point.   It was one of the questions they asked me when I applied to join the army and I answered it with a strong affirmative.

But Bataille rescued me from that, although it took a longer while.  The process of transgression involves turning one’s destructive impulses against oneself by pushing the boundaries of one’s comfort.   Some of Bataille’s writings are very sordid because he attacks the limited, polite dimensions of his psyche so violently.  In the same spirit, I attacked my simperingly polite nature violently, in whatever ways I could manage.  Martial arts and my writing were two primary means.   I drew the barbarian out of the cellar by these methods and I tamed him well.

So it was that after a couple of decades I recovered from Christian morality and the way it was making me ill.   It wasn’t easy, but the final step was facilitated by a more contemporary shaman, Dambudzo Marechera, who helped me recover from residual colonial guilt and the spiritual hangover of identity politics.

I’m very well now, but it’s taken time.  I’m not sure how to go about explaining this to someone still deeply entrenched in Christian morality.

PhD.  Marechera, Bataille and Nietzsche.  Much that is misnamed “shamanism” is but a self-esteem gesture to gain you mystical identity, enhance your sensitivity or (most unfitting of all) to enhance your aura of moral self-improvement .  You can’t improve yourself through shamanic encounters with the metaphysical void.  It’s a means to restore your capacity to be natural, by incorporating everything morally questionable back into one’s character.

wet hair