Dark knights rising.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 15, 2014 by A♠

 

 

 

Watch the video above from :45-1:12.

[Transcribed below for clarity.]

 

CIA Agent: At least you can talk. Who are you?
 
Bane: It doesn’t matter who we are; what matters is our plan.
[the Agent removes the hood]
 
Bane: No one cared who I was until I put on the mask.
 
CIA Agent: If I pull that off, would you die?
 
Bane: It would be extremely painful.
 
CIA Agent: You’re a big guy!
 
Bane: For you.
 
CIA Agent: Was getting caught part of your plan?
 
Bane: Of course.

 

The quoted exchange caught my attention so swiftly, so powerfully, for one reason and one reason alone:

It is the epitome of our circle.

Permit me to explain:

 

CIA Agent: At least you can talk. Who are you?
 
Bane: It doesn’t matter who we are; what matters is our plan.
[the Agent removes the hood]

 

Here we have the Leviathan [gov't agent] demanding answers from whom it expects nothing but subjugation.

What follows is the most terrifying response the Leviathan could imagine.

An answer that rejects the cult of “me”.

An answer that casts off the chains of Narcissism.

An answer that refuses to accept instant gratification.

All in favor of a greater – in every sense of the word – victory.

 

 

Then comes [if you'll indulge me] my personal favorite.

 

Bane: No one cared who I was until I put on the mask.

 

Why do we write [pseudo-] anonymously?

To protect ourselves?

In part, yes.

But, Truly, because we know our physical forms are nothing but fetters.

Chains that confine us to ad hominems such as:

“You’re just bitter because you’re ugly/white/black/male/etc.”

Whereas our ideas, our observations – indeed, our very Wills – , are our True strength and power.

In short, the “mask” causes us to be judged by what we are rather that what is seen by the eye.

And what we are is so much more.

 

 

Which brings me to this portion of the exchange:

 

CIA Agent: If I pull that off, would you die?
 
Bane: It would be extremely painful.
 
CIA Agent: You’re a big guy!
 
Bane: For you.

 

 

Take away our masks, and it will be painful to the Leviathan.

Since it will reveal we are its hardest workers.

Greatest producers.

Most dedicated soldiers.

Its sons.

Brothers.

Husbands.

Fathers.

 

 

Finally, and most darkly, comes this portion:

 

CIA Agent: Was getting caught part of your plan?
 
Bane: Of course.

 

The ancient Greeks had a term for it.

“Thanatos”.

In the deepest, darkest recesses of every ‘spherian is the desire to be caught.

This is not to be confused with masochism.

Or even to be considered a conscious thought.

In reality, it is a deep-seated desire to be known.

To be understood.

To be True to purpose.

Come what may.

 

 

 

 

“…saeclum in favilla”

Posted in Uncategorized on March 15, 2014 by A♠

 

 

 

On this, my ten year anniversary of writing online, I’ve a few things to share.

 

By all 21st century measurements, I am a failure.

I have few hit-counts [comparatively].

I am unmarried.

I am childless.

I am not famous.

I am neck-deep in penury.

There is, however, another way to look at me.

 

 

I have coined terms.

Begun small social movements.

Planted ideas.

Questioned wisdom and authority, both conventional and unconventional.

Leading others to do the same.

Caused men [and women] to question themselves, their beliefs, their actions.

 

 

It has been said “Only God can judge”.

That’s not entirely True.

Time is the judge of much, as well.

 

 

Both men and ideas exist, in a way, beyond the age that birthed them.

Men – specifically their ideas and individual missions – are as stones thrown into water.

Though they themselves sink to the point of invisibility, the ripples caused remain seen and efficacious beyond the initial impact.

 

 

To the uninitiated, I am a “blogger”.

To the slightly wiser, I am a “writer”.

To those with True vision, I am an “engraver”.

I carve thoughts, ideas and images onto the minds of those who’s attention I gain.

And, liked or disliked; loved or hated, those etchings are not easily erased.

 

 

I cannot tell if my time here [at this place, literally, and another] has been wasted.

Even I lack such sight.

But I know:

God will judge my soul.

Time will judge my mission.

And I pray both are, one day, found worthy.

 

 

 

 

“I try to convince myself that the plane is still not gone.”

Posted in Uncategorized on March 7, 2014 by A♠

 

 

 

[ Prompted by a question on http://ask.fm/Oinomancer ]

 

 

While every passing day makes it increasingly less likely I’ll have children, here’s the speech I’d give to my daughter:

 

It’s going to be tough for you.

Boys (men) are going to do everything they can to get what you have to give.

Be wary.

Never cold.

But wary.

 

 

Now, I’m not talking solely about physical love.

I also mean your loyalty.

Your support.

Your faith.

In the long run, those are the most precious gifts a woman can give.

They’ll carry a man through even the darkest times.

So choose wisely.

 

 

I know you’ll want to find a man you love and makes you feel special.

And you should do so.

But, whether you want children or not (although I hope you want them someday) make sure to always consider if he’d make a good father.

[Because humanity plans and God laughs.]

That’s a burden more and more women forget to carry.

But you need to keep that duty in mind at all times.

Like it or not, it’s women that decide what the next generation will be.

And that’s a responsibility too immense to be disregarded.

 

 

Remember, as you measure each man.

Break hearts.

And have yours broken -

There will forever be one man that loves you above all else.

That will always listen.

That will always hold you when you need comforting arms around you.

That will wipe your tears away to reveal that beautiful smile of yours.

Me – your Dad.

 

 

 

 

Ω

“They’re sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it’s better than drinking alone.”

Posted in Uncategorized on March 4, 2014 by A♠

 

 

 

 

Wanna see a trick?

Ok.

Here it is:

I’ve never met you.

I don’t know you.

I’ve no idea where you are right now.

But I’m going to tell you exactly why you’re here with me – reading this.

You’re lonely.

 

 

Now, it could be a romantic loneliness.

A spiritual loneliness.

An intellectual loneliness.

Doesn’t matter.

You’re lonely, just the same.

 

 

What you need to understand is:

There’s not a damn thing wrong with feeling that way.

Sure, you think you’re broken.

But you’re not.

Not really.

We all have issues, of some type.

But wanting a connection to other humans isn’t an “issue”.

It’s healthy.

Don’t let the bastards fool you.

That’s how they win.

“Divide and conquer.”

 

 

So talk to me.

Talk with other bloggers in the ‘sphere.

Be polite, and we’ll be here.

Or just shut down your machine and go out.

Safe in the knowledge:

You’re not really alone, at all.

 

 

But, should we meet in a smoke-filled bar:

I’ve done my part.

So the first round is on you.

 

 

 

“Don’t forget this fact – you can’t get it back…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 23, 2014 by A♠

 

 

 

 

I’ve said it a million times.

I’ll say it a million more:

I don’t care if you’re a theist, agnostic or atheist.

The Book of Genesis is the greatest work ever penned.

 

 

I’ve always wanted to do a break-down of it.

Call it:

Deconstructing Genesis.

But I’m getting off topic, ever so slightly.

 

 

Have you wondered why the women with whom you “click”, women you really “get” at a deep level, women with whom you feel a True and deep connection never seem to want you back?

Go ahead, lie to me.

Lie to the mirror.

But you, in the darkest recesses of your being, know exactly what I mean.

 

 

Sure, there have been girls with whom you’ve shared a fair amount of interests/attitudes/opinions in your time on earth.

There may be ones [or one] to whom you commit and you love tremendously.

But the ones that you really seem to mesh with – intertwining hearts, souls and all that jazz – always slip away.

If they’re ever even in your grasp.

Well, here it is, in all its simple horror:

You were made for Paradise.

She wasn’t.

 

 

See, to her, Paradise feels “wrong”.

Discomforting.

Alien.

 

 

She must have sorrow.

She craves struggle.

She was born of need; it’s need she serves.

 

 

That was why Eve ate the forbidden fruit.

It was a taste of home.

 

 

 

 

“I dare you to call my bluff; [I] can’t take too much of a good thing…”

Posted in Uncategorized on February 16, 2014 by A♠

 

 

[I'll add more to this post later but wanted to throw it out there.]

A woman whom I treasure a great deal once said:

“Men love women that are the rule.

Women love men that are the exception.”

Given gender qualities and reproductive strategies, this statement frames things quite well.

However, let’s frame this in a way I find more to my style.

 

 

Women are gambling addicts.

Take a moment.

Let that soak into your mind.

 

 

See, women like choices.

Women like drama.

Women are thrilled by risk.

What does that describe, if not a member of Gamblers Anonymous?

 

 

Women are masters at spinning plates.

There’s a term for that.

“Hedging One’s Bets”.

 

 

Women like mystery in a man; the idea they can’t completely figure him out.

There’s a term for that.

“[He Has A] Down Card”.

 

 

Women are notorious for putting even more effort into a relationship they want that seems to be garnering nothing but losses for them.

There’s a term for that strategy.

“Martingale.”

 

 

Women are all too eager to throw everything into a long-shot of a relationship.

There’s a term for that, too.

“All In/Letting it ride.”

 

 

Women like the idea of getting a man no other woman could.

Again, there’s a term for that.

“[Hitting the] Jackpot.”

 

 

Now, here’s the payout you’ve been awaiting:

Men are told to maintain frame control.

Well, doesn’t every casino do such a thing?

They make the rules.

They limit the stakes.

They reinforce intermittently.

 

 

Putting the above list simply:

They make reality theirs.

Even going so far as permitting no way for its patrons to tell if it’s day.

Or night.

Or even what time it is.

All this adds up to why, in the end:

The house always wins.

 

 

Recall, our lovely gambler isn’t addicted to winning.

[Thinking the above statement to be incorrect is a common, and all too dangerous, misconception].

She’s addicted to playing.

She likes the pain of loss.

She likes the rush of victory.

Give her too much of one or the other:

She’ll find another establishment.

 

 

After all:

Why do you think the term “Game” caught on so well?

 

 

 

 

“And I will plead no contest if loving you’s a crime…”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 29, 2014 by A♠

 

 

Ladies,

I wish I could say this letter was planned.

But it wasn’t.

Sadly, like so many things, it simply manifested – like a distorted Venus – from a pool of lamentable circumstances.

 

 

Now, you take a lot of flak in this corner of the internet.

Rightly or wrongly; fairly or unfairly apportioned.

Regardless, it’s fired your way.

 

 

Needless to say, you claim it comes from bitterness and envy.

To be fair, you’re correct.

But I get the sense you don’t really understand the root cause.

As I’ve said a million times – and will until I die:

You’re right for all the wrong reasons.

And that’s worse than being wrong.

 

 

See, you hear countless numbers of us berating you for your “single mother status”.

Naturally, you interpret that as:

We’re just jealous of what another man got.

However, exactly what is it he got that elicits these feelings in us, do you think?

I’m guessing you think the answer is “sex”.

 

 

Of course, that’s part of it, certainly.

But, as usual, you sell yourselves short.

It runs deeper (for quite a few of us, I’d gladly wager).

 

 

The complete answer is:

We’re jealous that some thug/deadbeat got your awe.

Your desire.

Your surrender.

Your ability to grant a legacy.

 

 

In short, we’re not jealous of what those men got, really.

We’re crestfallen at what we were denied.

 

 

The Truth that you refuse to see – whether by deed or denial -  is that many of us wanted a child.

A wife.

A family.

A loving extension of who we are and what we do.

And you – with the power to choose – didn’t choose us.

 

 

To make matters worse, no one is happy.

We aren’t.

Plus, by all indications, neither are you.

[It's one thing to suffer.

It's another to suffer needlessly.]

 

 

So the next time you curse your “baby-daddy” for being late to pick up the children you tumultuously share, as you stare at the empty street:

Remember, there are many men that would have gladly driven it home to you and the little ones he sired.

Because those men sure as Hell do.

And if it makes you angry or breaks your heart:

Well, now you understand.

 

 

 

 

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