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Persons I would like to be instead of the who's-not-really-me I'm stuck with due to: "The them"

"They put me off at the wrong stop when I was born." (Doug Schaff/BMcC[18-11-46-503])


Bidu Sayão
Wanda Landowska
Amanda Lear
Monia Vitti
Susanne Langer
Hannah Arendt
Rosa Poncelle

Sweet timid little, vulnerable Margaret Keane cat.

(Rrose Selavy; Krazy Kat)

Wassily Kandinsky
Sviatoslav Richter
Marcel Duchamp
Edmund Husserl
Eugen Fink
Hans-Georg Gadamer
George Steiner
Alain Resnais
Michelangelo Buonarroti
Michelangelo Antonioni
Sophocles
Aristotle
Tristan Tzara
Sun-Tzu
Lessing J. Rosenwald


"The them" is my (BMcC[18-11-46-503]) neologism to refer to Martin Heidegger's "das Man" as an aggregate. "The them" can consist of one or more, even ten billion "das Man" agglomerating like herd animals, e.g.: haredim or professional soccer game fans or any other mass event. Crowds frighten and disgust me. My life matters to me; I do not care about any group's "identity". Only individual persons have identities (which, of course, they need to overcome). In groups and a fortiori in a crowd, people change, like grasshoppers change into locusts and they swarm. Where's Waldo?

Agglomerating living human bodies, like a bowl of jellybeans, or a hoard of locusts, or whatever. Where's Waldo?

✓ I definitely would not want to be "anybody but me" because most (albeit not all!) the people aka: "The them" I have encountered in my life have been even far worser than the thing the conscious life writing these words was stuck with because it never fully capitulated to become a them. Some of The them never should have been born, or, having had the misfortune to see the light, gone back swiftly whence they came. (paraphrasing Sophocles from a slightly different context) The them is the real H. Lacks cancer. The remainder of The them that is not toxic to come in contact with is just in the third person: more or less Potemkin people.

✓ I would have preferred to be an attractive [preferably "barren"] female, but at least I am not stifled in a minotaur's body, like some male hominds, Each day, I more resent The them that, as they politely call their male genital mutilation social custom: "circumcised" my body and my soul to make my capacity for sexual pleasure even less than it already had to be by being male in the first place but then The them ignoranced me of what they left (It is imperative for The them that males retain biological capacity to produce more thems!).

The them lacks the faculty to appreciate anything, but a them can smile. (Viruses are parasitic: they cannot exist except in host cells they colonize.) The them bodies emit words from their oral orifices, but do[es] The them instantiate discursive language? As Friedrich Nietzsche wrote: The them have sunk so low that they cannot even despise themselves. (Higher mammals such as cats and dogs lack language, too, but cats and dogs can love me and play with me; cats and dogs do not consume me for headcount / bodycount, without even being decent about it like carrion birds and waiting until after I die a natural death. After I am dead, I welcome The them to enjoy my corpse tartare or to cook me however they like for whatever meal they want. Bon appetit!)


Go on to: who/what I got stuck being...Go on to: who/what I got stuck with being...
+2022.05.08 v009  

 

"Why reinvent the past with the assets of the future? The times are rotten, the culture sick. Fools rule. Capacity weakens. Let's turn our imagination to nobler possibilities." (ROM)

"Tenebrae mentium tenebra orbis."(BMcC[18-11-46-503])


Unfortunate for themself, the person who lacks one; unfortunate for others, the person that is one. Don't be an a**hole!


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2022-05-08 10:11:06