A Museful Miscellany

The things that distant posterity remembers most vividly are usually the things that never really happened. Worshipful deification by posterity is the true Hell to which successful idol-smashers and blasphemers are often consigned after death.

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Life isn't about money or power. It is about easily digestible platitudes which tell you what life is about.

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Nostalgia is not a kind of remembrance, but a form of forgetting in which the present overshadows the past so completely and the future so frightens us, that the only refuge is the delusion of remembrance: fabrication of a past that never existed, when we can't handle the truth that even good old days were pretty godawful too.

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The idea of artistic originality (and the negative connotations of "plagiarism"), has got to be one of the stupidest ideas the modern world has about art. Uncertain paternity is no more a blemish on an artistic work than on a person, and the only real bastards are the Romantics who failed to grasp this. Many ridiculous notions such as "ripoff" and "derivative" (as well as a whole sub-genre of modern copyright law) rest on the same general absurdity.

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Just because I'm an atheist, doesn't mean I don't believe in anything at all. I do, for example, firmly
believe in the reality of the Surgeon Birth. It is undeniably true that C-sections actually happen.

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I'd say that the Supreme Court's decision that money is speech was the straw that broke the camel's back, but that would be inaccurate. It's more the sledgehammer that shattered the spine of a camel who already had osteoporosis, for the gratification of a billionaire with a fetish for hardcore dromedary BDSM who paid a fortune for the spectacle, and who thinks of himself as a sexual minority oppressed by anyone who doesn't like cruelty to animals. On a related note, I decided to compete in the Olympics and am training for the men's heavyweight metaphor stretching. Training is going well, though I seem to be getting the equivalent of a runner's high from all the exercise.

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People who blame themselves for everything have an exaggerated sense of their own importance.

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The ruling classes have exploited every hoax possible - from Theism to Stalinism to race to the free market - for the pacification and manipulation of the masses. This of course has never prevented the ruling classes themselves from falling for their own swindles in due course; there is no charlatan that cannot be given posthumous deification through a combination of convenience and time's passage.

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The trouble with intelligence is that, in the absence of perspective, it contributes to a person's tendency to maintain even the most ridiculous of ideas, as they are all the more equipped to rationalize whatever bullshit they are loath to relinquish. The greater the intellect, the greater the wisdom and perspective that must serve as reality's bulwark, against the temptation to brilliantly hallucinate the truth into the most specious of propositions simply because of how convenient or satisfying such a truth would be.

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I am amused by how shocked Americans always are when I tell them that in Arab cultures, the bride does not in fact take the husband's name.

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This Ibid guy must be the most prolific and versatile scholar ever to exist.



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