The Outsider - اللامنتمي

Egypt

outs1d3r — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 21:20:44 +0000

A Secular, Democratic, Republic driving it’s sovereignty from the People. The people delegate the Sovereignty to a elected Parliament ensuring a Separation of powers between the Legislative (parliament upper/lower), Executive (Government & Head of State) & an unreservedly Independent Judiciary. A strong army to defend the constitution & the people’s sovereignty. A Constitution that ensures our Rights (life, safty, security etc) & Freedoms (opinion, movement, worship, expression, assembly, inovation, media, communication, etc).

Just a thought.

Jan25

outs1d3r — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 21:17:43 +0000

Went the day well?
We died and never knew;
But well or ill,
Freedom, we died for you.

- Simonides, 5th century BC

Honesty in Deception

outs1d3r — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 17:39:30 +0000

In all great deceivers there occurs a noteworthy process to which they owe their power. In the actual act of deception, among all the preparations, the horror in the voice, expression, gestures, amid the striking scenery, the belief in themselves overcomes them. It is this that speaks so miraculously and convincingly to the onlookers. The founders of religions are distinguished from those other great deceivers by the fact that they do not come out of this condition of self-deception: or, very infrequently, they do have those clearer moments, when doubt overwhelms them; but they usually comfort themselves by foisting these clearer moments off on the evil adversary. Self-deception must be present, so that both kind of deceivers can have a grand effect. For men will believe something is true, if it is evident that others believe in it firmly.

Human All Too Human – Nietzsche

Dance me to the end of love

outs1d3r — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 00:39:43 +0000

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We’re both of us beneath our love, we’re both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I’m gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Do you have a rope?

outs1d3r — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 12:21:45 +0000

With people who know how to revenge themselves and to stand up for themselves in general, how is it done? Why, when they are possessed, let us suppose, by the feeling of revenge, then for the time there is nothing else but that feeling left in their whole being. Such a gentleman simply dashes straight for his object like an infuriated bull with its horns down, and nothing but a wall will stop him. (By the way: facing the wall, such gentlemen — that is, the “direct” persons and men of action — are genuinely nonplussed. For them a wall is not an evasion, as for us people who think and consequently do nothing; it is not an excuse for turning aside, an excuse for which we are always very glad, though we scarcely believe in it ourselves, as a rule. No, they are nonplussed in all sincerity. The wall has for them something tranquillising, morally soothing, final-maybe even something mysterious … but of the wall later.)
.
.

I will continue calmly concerning persons with strong nerves who do not understand a certain refinement of enjoyment. Though in certain circumstances these gentlemen bellow their loudest like bulls, though this, let us suppose, does them the greatest credit, yet, as I have said already, confronted with the impossible they subside at once. The impossible means the stone wall! What stone wall? Why, of course, the laws of nature, the deductions of natural science, mathematics. As soon as they prove to you, for instance, that you are descended from a monkey, then it is no use scowling, accept it for a fact. When they prove to you that in reality one drop of your own fat must be dearer to you than a hundred thousand of your fellow-creatures, and that this conclusion is the final solution of all so-called virtues and duties and all such prejudices and fancies, then you have just to accept it, there is no help for it, for twice two is a law of mathematics. Just try refuting it.

- from Notes from the underground, Fyodor Dostoevsky

118

outs1d3r — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 15:10:46 +0000

I’m still trying to fathom, it was all new to me. In the last three weeks, I had a glimpse of the true meaning of happiness, the anticipation of a contact or a meeting, the strong antithesis of moving towards and away from, for at last I felt alive, truly alive. The pain was so intense and still is, ever had the feeling of something taking your knees apart and slowely moving upwards, you’re looking down on, but you’re not able to do anything, for nothing is worth doing anymore.

I’m not sure what to make of it all still, is the moments of joy justify the risks or not, whatever happens that was a very cruel experience.

Waiting for the sun

outs1d3r — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 12:28:18 +0000

She said wait for the sun rise, I adhere, my mind is conjecturing, again, I hear

Mr. Mojo Risin:

Waiting for you to – come along
Waiting for you to – hear my song
Waiting for you to – come along
Waiting for you to – tell me what went wrong

What went wrong? is the sun up yet? is it time? count down? just pull the damn trigger. Where is the bloody sun, don’t you dare show your ugly face. O’Dionysus, help me.

Gibran comes to mind:
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

A serious note
Last year
Can’t let go of
Friendship
Smoke
Death row
Sweet and nice
That’s not high enough bridge
Me not you
Filthy river
Garden to barren
Hamada Boy!
Basketball and three movies
ليلة امبارح مجاليش نوم
Infinite, everything is
Like a fisherman’s destiny emerging from the sea
Eat something, poison. is it bitter?
My bike is far away
I have to go
But I’m waiting for the sun, remember!

Gibran again:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
فعلاً

Not to be

outs1d3r — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:52:49 +0000

There is an ancient story that king Midas hunted in the forest a long time for the wise Silenus, the companion of Dionysus, without capturing him. When at last he fell into his hands, the king asked what was best of all and most desirable for man. Fixed and immovable, the demon remained silent; till at last forced by the king, he broke out with shrill laughter into these words: “Oh, wretched race of a day, children of chance and misery, why do ye compel me to say to you what it were most expedient for you not to hear? What is best of all is forever beyond your reach: not to be born, not to be, to be nothing. The second best for you, however, is soon to die.”

HH

outs1d3r — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:07:03 +0000

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Boredom

outs1d3r — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 15:23:12 +0000

The Gods were bored, so they created man. Adam was bored because he was alone, so Eve was created. Adam was bored alone, then Adam and Eve was bored together; then Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel were bored en famille, then the population of the world increased, and the people were bored en masse. To divert themselves, they conceived the idea of constructing a tower high enough to reach the heavens. This idea itself is as boring as the tower was high, and constitutes a terrible truth proof of how boredom had gained the upper hand.

- Søren Aabye Kierkegaard, Either-Or