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Hail the love of the human heart!


Yes, love has a place in my philosophy. But – Isn’t love selfless? Do I advocate selflessness? Hell no and fuck no. Selfishness is the way, but it is a way we travel with one eye shut if we would avert our gaze from love. Aphrodite was no goddess of unselfishness, nor was Eros a god of altruism.


Let it also be said, I don’t limit my context to mating scenarios. My heart has halls in its fortress for parents, siblings, offspring, extended family, bosom comrades, mentors, proteges, and, most emphatically, pets, equine mounts, and other non-human fellow travelers. It even has halls for city, state, nation, continent, hemisphere, and our own backwater planet, one among untold billions, but the one you and I call home.


I love what is mine, because it is mine, and because I am proud this is so. Pride is a part of love, and indispensable to it. When my heart sank its claws into my beloved, I threw back my head and roared, “MINE!” – even if I only did this in the forgotten dreams of my deep and mysterious sleep. I may not have been a lion before I loved, but now that I have a beloved, I pad through the jungle on terrifying paws. I became more when at last I loved. It bestowed greatness on my now-tawny head.


Love is territorial; love guards and defends; love is not weak or cowardly or humble or shy or meek. It is two-fisted and ready to fight; it is wild-eyed and ready for mayhem; it is grim-faced and ready to gamble against the Reaper. It rejoices in beauty and delights in the perversity of savoring ugliness. It is fearless of truth yet will lie if the truth won’t serve. It overcomes all things, questions all things, imagines all things, dares all things, endures all things.


If you detected it – Yes, that was blasphemy.


Love will sacrifice for the sake of the beloved, but this is not altruism: It is passion. It is savage rebellion against a universe that dares the outrage of denying joy to the beloved. When I bestow tremendous generosity on the one my heart has claimed for its own, I make of myself a titan, imposing upon matter, space, and time the singular future I have envisioned and which I will not surrender to non-existence. Love is the will to power filtered through the heart! In the barbarous magnificence of my munificence toward the beloved, I call forth the Übermensch.


If what you call love is not like what I have described, then discard the tepid, timid thing that disgraces the name of what it pretends to be. ISCHYROS DIAVOLOS!

EpicFail TITS
When I think about love, I think of Hollywood drama for the most part.  People rant about it everyday without even thinking.  What is Love and where does the idea come from?

It seems people attach emotions to everything. The need to reproduce is a big one.  People keep making new people.  The need to survive as a species creates physiological symptoms, among them are human sentiments.

Every emotion is based on some sort of physical need. For every action there is a reaction. Every desire, concern, or despair are manifestations of physical reactivity.


EpicFail May 22 '19 · Comments: 13 · Tags: philosophy, love, emotions

Today, my auntie told me a diabolical story she read in some shitty tabloid newspaper. It’s a true story, she said, and of course, I believe her. I don’t remember the title but the story illustrates in the best way the sinister spirit. So here it is:

There was once a man, called Johnny, who spent many years in prison for killing his wife. Not that he didn’t love her. In fact, he loved her so much that he got terribly jealous. One day, thinking she betrayed him with another man, in the surge of emotions, he smashed her head with a hammer. When he realized the horror of his deed, he wept and moaned but it was to late. His wife was dead and he found himself behind the bars. In prison he was so kind and humble that he was released earlier for good behavior.

When he came back home, he became a nature lover. He fed hungry birds in winter and started keeping hens. He also cared for stray dogs. But he had one favorite pet he loved fiercely; a little, nearly miniature cock, he called “Lilipucik”, which is a Polish diminutive name for a midget.

One winter morning, on his way to work, he met a homeless man. He was so hungry and looked so miserable that Johnny took pity on him and decided to take him to his home. The homeless man was really grateful and did all the work around the house. Every day, Johnny came back home, there was a hot meal waiting for him.

You know what I long for? – Johnny said to the homeless man – a good hot chicken soup. Kill one hen and cook the soup for me.

So the homeless man got up in the early morning, took an axe and started wondering which hen is most suitable for his benefactor’s dinner. Suddenly, he noticed a tiny thin cock staggering in the yard. Meh – he said to himself – this cock will be dead in no time. Why waste its meat?

And he chopped off Lilipucik’s head.

Johnny came back home and at the doorstep he felt the delicious smell of a soup. Oh how horrified he was when he saw his beloved little cock boiling in the pot! He didn’t listen to the homeless man’s feeble explanations, he wept and shouted at him. “What did you do?! How could you kill my Lilipucik?!” He threw his things out of the house and told him to go away.

The homeless guy shrugged his shoulders, thought the man was crazy, and went his way. Meanwhile, Johnny stopped weeping, looked again at the pot and felt his own head getting hot with surging fury. He took the axe, still stained with Lilipucik’s blood, got on his bike and followed the homeless guy. Finally, he reached him.

You know what it is? – he said showing him the axe – It’s the same axe you killed my little cock with. My dear Lilipucik, whom I loved so much. Now this very axe will chop off your head.

And he smashed the homeless man in the head.

A few months later, Johnny stands before the court.

It’s your second crime, your second murder – the judge says – you deserve the life sentence. Do you have anything to say in your defense?

It was love, Your Honor. – Johnny says – I did it all for love. I loved my wife so much that I killed her. And I loved my cock so much that I killed the motherfucker who dared to take his life. Without my little cock, life is worthless to me.

Bye my Lilipucik. Bye.

And little Johnny, totally devastated, rots in his cell.

Anna Feb 18 '18 · Rate: 5 · Comments: 6 · Tags: love, murder, passion, story, cock
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