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Tag: triumph of the will

Published on Leave a comment on “Triumph of the Will:” Theatre of the Absurd

The mistake -- a sick joke

The idea that any one of us can ascend to the top of the Empire State Building and from there proclaim our supremacy, King Kong, lord and master of all he surveys, king of the jungle, is an absurdity. When what it really expresses is the littleness of our un-self-awareness. Not who we really are but its opposite, a loudmouth fraud, an imposter, deranged and delusional. “A stranger wandering through the house of Truth,” as Jesus puts it in A Course in Miracles. A pipsqueak nobody. Seriously -- a joke.

When what the attainment of our real Worth, our empowerment, actually requires isn’t being the center of attention but getting out of the way. Getting off stage instead of at the center in the spotlight. Not involving bodies and the beast, their havoc-wreaking animal brains, in anything. But letting the idea out the back door, that they’re who we are. That anything “external” to Reality that can only be one and inseparable is worth taking seriously. Because it isn’t. It’s a delusion. A mistake. A perversion of the Truth. A sick joke.

Leni’s Triumph of Flatulence

Glorified in Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will,” her documentary, commissioned by Hitler, of the 1934 Nazi party congress in Nuremberg. The coming together of one individual’s derangement with an entire nation captive to its delusion and its talent for self-glorification through the creativity of imagination -- art, imagery, illusion. Its talent for propagandizing derangement, the arrogation of authority from all Creation to itself, from Logic and Love that govern Reality and Truth with wisdom, kindness and compassion, sensitively, inclusively, to a poseur bent on supremacy by crushing the opposition. “Triumph of the Will,” theatre of the absurd on a tiny stage of make-believe, the letting of flatulence in the context of another Will that knows nothing of it. Of the Logic and Love where Will resides. Where the Authority of Necessity is shared freely with its Creations but cannot be shared with a dream. With nothingness. A joke.

The nonsense that Leni Riefenstahl “immortalized” was mortality. Death itself, because the idea that it expresses, that will can be concentrated in any part of the dream of an unconscious mind, is stillborn. It just didn’t happen. The ruler and his regimented ranks of sameness in their Teutonic uniforms, for all the racket they made, for all the anguish they caused, didn’t make a dent in Reality. The Reality of Will whose essence is sharing, affirmation, and empowerment. Whose essence is Life, not death. That arrogates nothing to itself, concentrates nothing to the exclusion of its Creations, the focus of its striving to attain an Ideal. Its caring focused not upon itself but upon them. Upon their gifts and talents and the Beauty and perfection of their Creativity. Their artistry. Their work -- the Worth of all of Creation. 

Good riddance to spiked helmets and swastikas 

What more pathetic absurdity can there be than “Triumph of the Will” that celebrates all of history’s poster-child madman?  What more blatant contradiction of Truth and sanity? How more obvious can our own madness get -- the madness of “realists” taken in by this shit. Instead of making fools of ourselves, strutting on center stage in the regalia of authority, in our madman’s delusion of “supremacy,” when will we wake up? When will we and our madness get out of the way?

Published on Leave a comment on To a Young Friend with a Very Special Talent

Gaslighting that's for fun

Before you and I get to the matter at hand, I just want to remind us both of the importance of coordination. You know, being able to walk and chew gum at the same time. Now, that’s never been a problem for me. But I do have a problem with something else, and I’m sure you’re just the one to help with this. Being able to walk and fart at the same time.

The word all over is that you can do anything and fart at the same time. I’ve worked so hard at this, and I just can’t seem to do it. I hope I never see another can of beans! They say you don’t even need to eat beans; it just comes naturally. What an incredible talent! I’m so jealous. I wish I could be just like you and sit down to dinner with a room full of people all dressed up in white tie and tails and evening gowns and light up the place. Awesome! Everyone looking shocked, disgusted, holding their noses, excusing themselves to go throw up or just throwing up right there in their Vichyssoise.

We should wait to get your sister's opinion because she’s really good at describing vomit. Maybe it would have a more dramatic effect if people threw up in their caviar. What do you think? But, of course, I’m talking to the world record holder for throwing up and farting at the same time. Now, that’s coordination!

Next week I hope we can have another great discussion like this. Maybe about how important it is to always be grown up and display good taste. That would be very timely because I have no talent for that, and you don’t either. Being really coordinated is no help here at all. Anyway, I don’t want you to change. I’ll never be grown up and have good taste, and if you’re grown up, we can’t be friends. So, I’m counting on us both being rotten little kids forever so we can be best friends forever. Here – have a nice steaming hot bowl of beans. Let ‘er rip!

Gaslighting that's not so much fun

People who think they’re bodies call themselves “realists.” People who identify with their minds think of themselves as “idealists.” There are a lot more “realists” than “idealists.” Still, that’s one of the main ways people divide themselves up because their differences show up everywhere. Like in how things are explained, how they’re governed or managed, how they’re decided. Realists being more numerous doesn’t make them right, but then the way things are going it doesn’t look like either one is right. Body-realist or mind-idealist = perfection to some, a big mess to others.

Have you thought about body vs. mind since I brought this up? Once a person decides which they prefer it’s pretty hard to change. It has consequences for themselves and others, too, because what will prevent consequences we don’t want may just be if idealists make better use of their minds. Body-realists tend to be OK with things as they are, and since they let their bodies do their thinking for them, they’re not likely to change. If idealists using their minds do change and get it right, maybe there’s hope.

The part of the body that does the thinking for a lot of “realists” is the base of the brain that sits at the top of the spine. It’s the part of the brain that connects us to our ancestors who swung from trees and lived on bananas. It’s actually called our “reptilian” brain, so I guess dinosaurs figure in there somewhere, too. It’s never evolved, and it doesn’t actually think. It directs us to act from instinct. You know, forget about being fancy with clever reasoning: just pounce on prey or snatch food or a mate, or beat up an enemy. Or run away if your enemy is bigger. “Fight or flight.”

King of the beasts

You’d think even realists who identify with their bodies wouldn’t want their behavior to be ruled by something so primitive. But there was a time and a place when a lot of them made a point of it. When they caused a whole lot of trouble -- 1930’s Germany. They associated instinct with action and action with having a will of steel and a will of steel with power that always dominates. That puts the “winner” on top with no more competition because everyone else is defeated. All by letting themselves be ruled by their bodies – by instinct acting -- instead of by their minds and hearts – by reason thinking and affect feeling. Letting themselves be ruled by instinct rooted in a part of the brain that links us to animals. That’s how Nazis “thought,” and when they let it turn them into an unthinking mob that attacked its neighbors, they started World War II.

The way they glorified their awful attitude was calling it “The Triumph of the Will.” You can Google it. It sought to put all of humanity under the yoke of one person’s mindless animal instinct. Its name was “Hitler.”

You’d think that everyone would be horrified but they aren’t. There’s a whole strain of art, music, literature, philosophy, and political ideology that glorifies “blood and soil,” tribal loyalty, racial supremacy, right-brained mysticism, and such. It’s what motivated the mob that attacked the capitol in Washington on January 6. All friendly to body and hostile to mind. All dangerous nonsense. But if you identify with your body instead of your mind, this is where it can take you.

Let's be rotten little kids forever

So, with your principal’s honor roll mind and talent for writing, maybe becoming a mind-idealist will make more sense and someday they’ll erect a statue in your honor at Andrews Park. To attract pigeons, and it will be engraved “Tomb of the Unknown Nobody.” OK, I’m being silly. Of course, it will say “World Class Coordinator.”

I’m sorry. I was trying to set an example for mindful idealism and got distracted. Not growing up is so much more fun. All the same, “World Class Coordinator” sounds pretty cool!

I have to go now. My limousine is waiting. I’ve been invited to a Hollywood dinner party where everyone will be dressed in white tie and tails and evening gowns, and they’re serving Vichyssoise. They told me there will be a young guest who will demonstrate her special talent. I can’t wait!