Ecce Homo

Ecce Homo

Why Do the Hell I Think so Highly of Myself?

Nietzsche wrote Ecce Homo (Latin phrase, meaning "Behold the man"used  by Pontius Pilate in describing Jesus before he was executed like a common criminal), a book about himself, just before he became mad. I've read the book at least six times because I find echoes of myself in there. 

A common monkey would say that he is a doctor, engineer, accountant, bus driver, sanitation engineer (garbage collector), building custodian (janitor), carnal pleasures manager (pimp), etc...in answering to a question who he is. In other words, monkeys and chimps and other lower primates identify themselves with their professions. 

I, a higher primate, a human supreme, say, with a sardonic smile and then a chuckle, that I am a poet and philosopher when lower primates want me to identify myself. 

I have reasons to feel superior to most earthlings on this planet:

1. Compared to them, my concerns and inquiries are more profound to the nature of Reality and of the world; more existential; more to the nature of who I really am, why I am here, and where I will go after I die. Lower primates stupidly accepted what they were told by mind handlers that that there is a God, reincarnation, body-soul demarcation, etc...They are too stupid to see that they are intellectual slaves. They cannot think deeply. They are not into logic and philosophy. They don't know shit about Nietzsche and Wittgenstein. They don't know, don't want to know, about thinkers because they themselves are not thinkers and thus cannot understand thinkers. 

2. They cannot write exquisite, lyrical passages in English as I do. They cannot write poetry. They lack artistic sensibilities. And they are so fucking dumb to the point they have the stupid audacity to think that they are my equal in status and intellectual and emotional make-up. They don't know I regard them as inferior, untalented, unaccomplished beings, who live lives of quiet desperation and crushing boredom. I personally know two monkeys who pretend to read books. They would go to a library checking out a bunch of books. They read a few pages. And then two weeks later, they lug the books back to the library so they would have a feeling that they are "readers". I have not seen them once read one serious book from beginning to end because I think they are not intellectually equipped to do so. They don't have the intellectual capacity and curiosity and patience. I know them because I talked with them and tried in vain to engage in intellectual discussions. I gave up after several attempts because I felt I was talking to a brick wall or an echo chamber, I know they struggled to finish college. They don't have a real thought in their head. They cannot think. Their "opinions" are those of a child. They are so poorly educated that it is hilarious every time they open their mouth and opine. I now conclude I have no business of even talking to them because sooner or later they would say things that would nauseate me for being so stupid and uninformed. They are not in my league intellectually and emotionally. Monkeys don't know who they are. They lack the capacity for self-introspection. Maybe they do, but they don't have the courage to do so because if they do, they would feel so bad about themselves that they have no reason to live. So they fancy that they are okay, even good, so they can go living, having sex, and producing children and are very "proud" of that mundane act of procreation, an act that a dog or a pig can do quite easily. Despite having such a miserable, boring, animalistic kind of existence, they are hunting for reasons to laugh at superior beings like myself, who make them feel small and stupid.