Creativity, Originality, and Stupidity masqueraded as Normality.

You know it's not fair to call normal folks stupid. It's not their fault. They, for the most part, have nothing to with their being normal and animalistic. That's what average means. Normal. Run of the mill. Ordinary. Undistinguished. Hypocritical. Slaves and sheep. And love life to the utmost and deadly scared of death. And yes, theistic and hopeful to go to heaven after they die. How boring and how predictable. Oops, you almost forgot. Cowardly, also. Yech! Banality can kill you. You just cannot be around banal folks with their cheap, unwitty humor, and tastes in clothes and music and literature and just about everything else. And yet, if you say that their lives are so similar to those of animals, they would instantly foam and froth at the mouth, and scream insults back at you. You have learned to stay from the animals and leave them alone. They think they are clever, however, because they lie. They try to deceive others. They say nice things about themselves. You hardly hear anything that comes close to honest self-assessment. They all think they are good and decent and caring. Yet, if you ask them to do something for their home country, a deadly and embarrassing silence ensues. Enough exposition about these monkeys. They make you sick. They make you throw up. You are making the company that makes PeptoBismol rich.

You know you are different and superior. You are the guy going around saying and repeating things like:

"One must have chaos within oneself to give birth to a dancing star."
"What you write is not engraved in stone monuments, but is stuck in people's hearts and glued on people's minds. You are a disturbed guy. And what you write is disturing."

You fancy that you have creativity and orginality, OK, sometimes stupiditiy, too, but not the usual cheap, cunning, crafty stupidity. Because even in stupiditty, you are special. You are naive and trusting and honest. That's why you are duped and fooled all the time. But you are wising up. Yes, you are. Ordinarily stupid assholes think you are stuck up on yourself. That is not really so. You just speak the truth. The truth makes those assholes uncomfortable becaue all the life they live a life of a lie and run away from the truth. The more you think about the cognitive dissonance these assholes have to bear, you cannot understand how they can live with themselves. They are so fucking cowardly that it is just pathetic. Everyday they mouth off pious platitudes yet they don't do a damn thing to live up to those platitudes. Absolute animals, no doubt about that, not at all. A man's true character is what he does, not what he says he is. To do is to be. To be is to do. Doing defines who we are. Who we are, is defined by what we do. A man whose words don't match his deeds or whose deeds don't match his words is not much a man. In fact, he is an animal.

What does a man think when he refuses to do a right thing when almost everybody around him answers to the call of his conscience? And yet that man everyday utters words of wisdom and respect and dignity and fucking civility and courtesy when he cannot answer to the call of decency, the call of conscience to do the right thing. What kind of a man is that person? He is a louse, an insect, a skunk, an animal. He may have an appearance of a human, but he has no human soul, no higher consciousness. All he cares for is to live with any costs and with any price. All he cares is himself and nobody else. He refuses to fight for his fellow men, his country. Oh yes, he would urge others to fight, but he himself will not lift a little fucking finger. Excuse me, I have to take a break. It's time to take another dose of PeptoBismol. I know, Buddha would not utter a single harsh word. Everything about the man was self-control and moderation. I am no Buddha. I am no coward, either. I do love my home country. Yes, I am switching to first person singular. No more rhetorical impersonal second person singular bullshit. Now everybody knows what I really think. I don't give a fuck. And I haven't even touched on Creativity and Originality yet.

It might look awfully self-serving for me to talk about creativity and originality. I now decide to let others judge if I possess them or not. Allow me to free-associate on whatever triggers my fancy and tickles my fanny.

Nudity: Before the advent of pornographic magazines, people had to pay good money to have access to pictures of nudity, especially of Causasians or had to content themselves with occasional issues of National Geographic Society magazines where nude photos of some natives in faraway lands. Now some photographers somehow entice Caucasians to come together in large number and pose nude to create some unsual shots which they call artistic expressions. Shit, I regard myself as an artistic person, but to call those photos as art is quite a stretch. Nude photos of some humans who cared to keep their body in beautiful conditions, on the other hand, can be artistic and aesthetically pleasing. Close-up photos of human genitalia are meant to excite sexual arousal. I am not usually that easily aroused either, unless I fall in love with the person who is in the nude.

Sophistry: A person who is routinely into this practice is not trustworthy. Period. End of discussion.

Flippancy: A person who has this seemingly harmless tendency loves to hear his own voice, and not to look for serious discussions. Stay away from him also.

(cont.)