For the past ten years or so, I've been writing one manifesto after another regarding who I am and what I consider, very subjectively of course, as ultimate verities for human existence. I suppose the reason for these preoccupations is to deal decisively with the perennial issues of my true worth and my relationships with other humans. In other words who I am and how I stand in relation to others: identity and hierarchy, heavy issues for social beings, and more so for a sensitive social being like myself, the one who cries easily, gets angry quickly, and dabbles in poetry and other arts (fiction writing, singing, and dancing), and social justice.
Lately my writing has taken a more practical, utilitarian function of testing for any signs of cognitive impairment. If there are, I won't be able to find words to express symbolically what I want to say. Language and memory including word retrieval are reliable indicators of the functioning of a human brain.
One thing for sure that I have noticed that as I age, the inhibition of social disapproval weighs less on me. I don't know if that's a result of my conviction that I am rare and beautiful or is simply a sign of senescent arrogance. I look around and most of what I see are instances of human deception, physical and moral cowardice and cognitive enfeeblement, ironically compensated by pitiful complacency. In other words, most humans act as if they were really individuals of substance while in fact they are not. They behave like old fools, unwittingly. Now, back to another recapitulation of who I am/identity/my worth and my standing in relation to other humans.
1. Besides my looks which have held up, I am just different from most, if not a great majority, of humans I have run into: I am more into knowledge, honesty, compassion, and social justice than they are.
2. I am more sensitive and artistic and intelligent than they are.
3. I am also more violent and extreme than they are. But fortunately, I've managed to keep my violence under control by having vicarious pleasures through the violent acts of others or having fantasies of my committing these acts of violence myself. I am a firm believer that assholes and scumbags are vermin and must be exterminated. I look at their deaths with pleasure and contentment and peacefulness. I am convinced that life is a perennial, endless struggle between the forces of Good and Evil. Humans always have a choice. And if they choose Evil, they must pay a price for that, pure and simple. We cannot afford to pussy-foot with Evil. However, I do believe in giving others second chances, and in Repentance and Redemption. I also believe in the curative, redemptive powers of Love although I have not been lucky in that department/area.
Conclusion:
I have been preparing for my death for a long time. To live is to die. Death makes Life ironically more meaningful. I firmly believe that while consciousness does exist, its existence is contingent upon a functioning body. When a body dies, so does consciousness. Thus, I don't believe in Reincarnation. I think it is unalloyed bullshit and falsehood. So far there has been no empirical evidence to support the theory/doctrine. All we have are fantastic, phantasmagoric stories or unsubstantiated religious doctrine relating to the issue. The stories and the doctrine are manifestations of greed and willful self-delusion.
Thus spoke Wissai
June 14, 2015.
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