The Enigma of Power

Oh yes!


Using knowledge for the sake of power is ridiculous.


Next time you see a dictator ask him:

"How is sex with your wife?"


And be beheaded immediately.

-CC

Love Song (Clean Version)

Please substitute the word 'suck' for each instance of profanity in the post below.


-CC




"Give peace a chance" - John Lennon

Love Song

(Trad. arr. CC)



if there's ever any doubt,

if there's ever any doubt

you can always fuck it out

if there's ever any doubt...



then you know,

then you know...



if there's ever any doubt,

you can always fuck it out



fuck it out... (x5)

THIS WORK (AS UNDEFINED ANYWHERE) IS PROVIDED UNDER THE TERMS OF THIS COPYCAT CREATURE COMFORTS LICENSE (OR QUADRUPLE C, "CCCC") THIS WORK IS NOT PROTECTED IN ANY WAY BY ANY INSTITUTION AND ANY USE OF THIS WORK OTHER THAN AS EXPLICITLY DEMANDED UNDER THIS LICENSE OR UNIVERSAL LAW IS NOT AT ALL ENCOURAGED.

BY EXERCISING ANY RIGHTS TO THE WORK PROVIDED HERE, YOU DENY ANY CONSTRAINTS ENFORCED BY THE TERMS OF THIS LICENSE. TO THE EXTENT THIS LICENSE MAY BE CONSIDERED TO BE AUTHENTIC THE LICENSOR GRANTS YOU THE RIGHTS CONTAINED HERE IN CONSIDERATION OF YOUR COMPLETE DENIAL OF SUCH TERMS AND CONDITIONS.

Oh So Dry

Here's a thought...

I was recently thinking about the profound effect the internet has had on communication.

The more I use "Web 2.0", I find my grammar and punctuation getting steadily and progressively worse. However, I really don't think this is a bad thing!

Why? Because the rules that apply to language in the standard media are changed. For example, my Facebook status can read "I have a hat" (without the end period) and still be interpreted as a full sentence. The fact that this sentence is encapsulated within a field (in this case the 'status' field) makes it implied.

In essence, I believe that website layout plays an important role in the communication (both linguistic AND aesthetic) of whatever the content.

I'm sure this is a topic that is right now being thoroughly analysed at Da Universitiez.

So... what does the future of grammar on the internet hold? Is it an exciting new frontier or will it slowly lead to the decline of the written word?

You decide.


-CC

Generation Why? - a Short Story in 4 Parts

1:

Casey blinked forcefully as she tried to arrange the last few plastic bags that were wedged in the dispenser to the left of the barcode scanner. Awkwardly reaching down to tug at yet another torn shred of plastic caught in one of the grooves on the so-called dispenser she felt a nerve near her left elbow quickly tighten then release causing what felt like a popping sensation to occur underneath the skin of her left arm.

Unconsciously shaking her wrist and turning toward the cash register she used her right hand to calculate the remainder. Glancing at the screen she withdrew the correct amount of coins from the drawer and handed them to the customer who thanked her with a brief smile which she returned without hesitation before bending over to reach for another bag.

* * *

Walking home Casey thought she could hear the wings of butterflies flapping in the wind, though there were no butterflies to be seen at dusk around the streets that evening nor even a light breeze was to be heard stirring in the trees by the sidewalk.

* * *

Watching television with her boyfriend's family was a past-time to which Casey occasionally enjoyed submitting herself. She liked his company and the warmth of his rugged hands holding hers as they sat on the couch and she also liked the peace that was brought about by the glowing flatscreen - though it was frequently broken throughout the program by whoops or yells from one of the boys haughtily placed on the beanbags around them.

In mild contrast to his brothers, she thought, Mark was a good guy. Someone she could rely on and trust. His manner was gentle and she enjoyed trying to figure out where he was in his mind when his pupils dilated and his gaze turned slightly downward, giving him the appearance of a great thinker. Later Casey was to find out that during these periods of supposed deep thought Mark was actually experiencing mild bouts of epilepsy that had remained undiagnosed since his birth.

2:

Tobias was a strange person - or so his friends would say. Not that he ever listened to them anyway. They weren't at all capable of understanding him, he would often think to himself.

As a result of his profound insights into human nature he had managed to manifest in his character the philosophy that the current attitudes of society were cruel and mislead and that it was always a better idea to look at the world through the eyes of a child.

The feeling of awe this attitude would lend to every situation was, he thought, well worth the sacrifice of leading a normal adult life.

Tobias liked the way the pictures on the screen of his portable phone danced because of the electricity that passed through an array of liquid crystals. He liked his laptop, as it was a tool which he could use to express himself creatively. He liked looking up at tall trees and was always gripped by the urge to climb them so that he could look down and admire the view below. He liked old chairs and wooden staffs and he especially liked the sound of a popping cork on an aged bottle of wine.

He also liked girls who would bring him comfort when he was depressed, girls who would respond to his whims and listen to his theories about life and girls who were kind and gentle and loved unconditionally.

These girls, for the most part, existed only in his head. One time however he thought that he had finally found his ideal companion.

She was beautiful. Not conventionally attractive but beautiful nonetheless. He could never be sure what it was about her that made her so appealing, but Tobias was convinced it had nothing to do with her physical appearance - not that she was by any means unattractive. Her plain features were offset by an exquisite femininity, though sometimes he wished she would put on some lipstick whenever they went out.

Tobias liked the way she was always happy and exuberant but often when they would meet at a restaurant and she would sit and listen to him and make origami figures out of napkins he would fail to understand her unwillingness to reveal to him her deepest desires.

3:

Jeanne walked through the alley as the sun started to set and the shadows of the skyskrapers formed a dark grid over the city.

Hurriedly looking from left to right before crossing the street she successfully avoided a passing car before hopping onto the other side of the pavement, happy she had changed position. Since she had turned the corner the falling darkness had made the narrow street appear intimidating.

Reaching the main road she headed over the tram tracks towards the shelter and sat down. She unzipped her backpack, pulled out a book and deftly flicked to a page she had marked earlier.

After a few minutes of being thoroughly absorbed in her book she was distracted by movement in the corner of her eye. Turning towards it she saw a man wretching into a pile of garbage bags further down the road, and although it was a main street on this particular night there seemed to be nobody around to notice. Jeanne turned back to the page she was on and tried to find the paragraph she had just read.

* * *

The headlights of the tram appeared from around the turn and Jeanne closed her book and stood up, unconsciously measuring the distance from her feet to where the tram would come to rest. The tram approached, its doors swung open and Jeanne reached for the metal support that would help her navigate the steep incline leading toward the driver's window.

After purchasing a ticket, Jeanne sat down as the tram rolled away from the stop. Retrieving her book once more she placed her backpack on the seat in front of her, put her feet up and returned to the enchanting words.

4:

Daniel had not eaten that morning. The fruit on the counter had gone bad and there was nothing but vitamin pills to provide him with a source of nourishment. Opening his fridge for the second time he glanced around at the shelves, hoping to see a wrapped chocolate or a piece of cheese somewhere. Disappointed, he let the door spring back into place and walked back through his loungeroom to the study where he had sat all morning looking through papers and checking his e-mail. He was hoping for a positive response from at least one of the companies he had contacted seeking employment.

As he typed without looking at the screen he tried to find order in the strange patterns he saw on the surface of his desk. He began to ponder the underlying workings of nature however promptly realised he was being distracted. It was also time for his next coffee.

Returning to the kitchen he opened the fridge again and before even looking inside he remembered he had forgotten to buy milk, which before he fell asleep the other night had been something he had planned to remember when he woke up. Emitting a sharp breath through his nostrils Daniel retrieved his keys from the kitchen table and walked through the loungeroom, opened the front door and after pulling it tightly shut after him and checking the handle he got in his car and drove to the store.

Holding the two litre bottle he had removed from the back end of the bottom row of the cooler and standing in line waiting to give his money to the storekeeper Daniel had to keep himself from being visibly amused by a woman negotiating over the price of a can of tuna.

The storekeeper was of a pleasant demeanour and always served with a smile. Earlier that week Daniel had arrived at the store holding a box full of five cent coins that luckily for him were graciously accepted in return for a packet of chips. That was also the time at which Daniel had been fascinated by the glassware and all the other paraphernalia displayed below the counter.

Upon exiting the store and returning home, Daniel again contemplated the patterns made by the colours and shades of the wood from which his desk was built.

Rise of the Machines - Skynet Here We Come

The Germinator

Far be it for The Compassionate Cynic to provoke any unnecessary paranoia, but it seems that everywhere you turn these days you can't help but run into some form of digital information exploitation skulduggery.

Having charted the rise of recent information-aggregators, marketing-WMDs and people-enslaving internet technologies such as Google, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Amazon and eBay from nascent digital larvae to giant self-replicating entozoons I often wonder what the future holds for your current species if these binary behemoths are allowed to propagate unmitigated throughout the realm currently (and rather out-datedly) known as cyberspace.

Add to this the growing trend in information technology and robotics of developing ever more insidious and powerful artificial intelligence software and land-navigating automatons and one can begin to envision a future where all our thoughts, words and actions are stored, monitored and eventually controlled by some sort of integrated Machiavellian global technology. Sound familiar?

Already technology such as augmented reality (you can point your iPhone at anyone or anything and instantly get information about it/them), celebrity tracking websites and instant on-the-spot news reporting have infiltrated your brave new society.

Avoiding the obvious (and grossly abused by the media and popular culture) Big Brother references let's focus on something even more dramatic and fear-inducing: James Cameron's 1984 (hah) film - surprisingly prescient given its contemporary technological climate.

Are we really so far off from the hellish dystopia portrayed in this Hollywood masterpiece (Arnie in leather pants, anyone)?

Searches on Google are logged by their gargantuan servers, individual hits on YouTube are calculated by storing your IP address. All transactions on Amazon and eBay are anonymously tracked and sold as "aggregate statistics" to faceless corporations and marketing agencies. Facebook account information is there for the taking. All these network entities know your location, purchasing and browsing habits, individual tastes and preferences, among many other things.

ISPs store records of every site you access. Do you trust them to keep your records private? Increasing internet censorship and new corporate revenue models - such as flagging your 'illegal' downloads and increasing individually tailored (read: consumer targeted) advertising assure that your whole person can be compacted into some sick digital doppelganger and used for the twisted gratification of the political and commercial elite.

But all this is nothing new. The ubiquitous media have been trumpeting identity theft, personal information abuse and all such privacy related issues since the beginning.

The issue here is whether or not you trust Google or your ISP or any other of these indispensable new world utilities not to divulge all your private details to some unscrupulous mercenary agencies at some point in the future. After all, they have your IP address!

Personally, I love the internet and would be literally lost without it. But I really hope that this endogenous monstrosity doesn't spread too far and that in some distant future my descendants can avoid being hooked up to brain-tubes and milked by semi-sentients for their life-juice.

It's here, people of Earth. The dreaded Skynet. You have been warned.

CC.

Images used without permission.

On God and Evolution

At some point God must have looked at babboons and decided to conceal our sphincters further into our buttocks.

For teh Lulz!!

Encyclopaedia Dramatica

Encyclopaedia Dramatica is the most concise, well-researched and astoundingly accurate source of information on the web!

It contains the most informed, up-to-date, 100% citable content about science, religion, philosophy, the arts, politics, current events, internet memes and the world in general.

Visit it today!

Encyclopaedia Dramatica

Sasha Grey - Superstar

Sasha Grey and Scott Feinberg

Interview with Sasha Grey covers some age-old issues.

Posted on LA Times Blogs.
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/files/2009/05/sasha-grey.html

Glitch in The System

Recently the pre-paid credit on my phone ran out and so I went out and bought a recharge voucher. Having entered the pin I was informed that the voucher was invalid so I called *unnamed mobile provider X* and repeated this information, upon which I was informed that I was to send the voucher to the offices of *unnamed mobile provider X* at which point I would receive a refund in the form of a cheque.

Having not remembered to ask for the address to the offices of *unnamed mobile provider X* I promptly called back and asked for the operator to whom I had spoken previously. Unfortunately that operator had seemingly vanished and so I repeated my dilemma to the new operator and was then informed that my old pre-paid plan was no longer in effect and that I would have to change over to a current plan.

I asked if perhaps I had purchased the wrong voucher and if it was at all possible that having exchanged it for another one I would be able to use it on my old plan and was informed that I could try but that it was not likely and also that the vendor might not comply with a such a voucher exchange and it was a better idea just to change to the current plan.

Thanking the operator and not heeding the suggestion at all I went back to the vendor and after a brief explanation I managed to exchange my voucher for one I thought might work and promptly discovered that it did.

* * *

The same week *unnamed land-line provider Y* suddenly decided it was a good idea to disconnect my land-line so I called them up and after an hour of being put on hold I was informed that the bills on the account had not been paid. Racking my brains as to how this grievous error could possibly have transpired I asked what address they were been sent to and was politely informed that it wasn't the one to which my land-line was currently connected.

After another hour of being put on hold I was redirected to another department at which point I had to reiterate the problem and was then (after yet another hour of resplendent muzak) redirected to another department at which point I was informed that they were closed for the day and that I should call back the next morning.

The next morning I called *unnamed land-line provider Y* once again and having restated the issue once more I was put on hold. An hour later having been redirected to the correct department I was informed that the issue had finally been resolved and that my land-line would be reconnected within 3-5 working days.

9 working days later there was still no sign of my land-line been reconnected so I called *unnamed land-line provider Y* again and was informed that no part of my previous enquiry had been recorded and was put on hold. After the usual affair I was finally informed that there had been a 'programming error' and that my line had been reconnected.

Replacing the receiver in disbelief I decided to test whether the line really worked and promptly discovered that it did.

* * *

Since my internet connection requires a land-line to function I had been without internet access for a total of 10 working days and was eager to rejoin the online community only to be perplexed by the discovery that I had no internet connection.

After having exhausted all the options available for troubleshooting internet connection issues I called up *unnamed internet provider Z* and after giving my details and been put on the mandatory hold I was informed that my service had been disconnected and required reconnecting.

I explained that this had been an error on the part of *unnamed land-line provider Y* due to the 'programming error' and was then informed that in order for my internet to be reconnected a service technician was required to reconfigure my local exchange and that this would most likely occur within 3-5 working days.

7 working days later I received a call from *unnamed internet provider Z* and was informed that my internet connection was now operational.

It was.

-CC

Products of Our Times: David Icke and Norm Augustinus

Who is the greater artist?

David Icke & Norm Augustinus

Norm Augustinus

Maxi Pad Gone
YouTube

Norm Augustinus Homepage
Norm Augustinus.com


David Icke

Wikipedia:
Wikipedia - David Icke

Books by David Icke:
Google Books

Curiosity Killed the Cat: Just Another Myth

Could curiosity have actually killed the cat?

Mmm...?

Not at all!

For the cat has nine lives and by the time it's reached it's ninth it knows all it ever needs to know.

Cat Reaching Enlightenment

Irrefutable.

Can a Truth be Self-Evident?

Just surfing around... found this:

...if a proposition is claimed to be self-evident, it is an argumentative fallacy to assert that disagreement with the proposition indicates misunderstanding of it. [REDACTED] ...A famous claim of the self-evidence of a moral truth is in the United States Declaration of Independence, which states, "We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal"; philosophically, that proposition is not necessarily self-evident, and the subsequent propositions surely are not. Nevertheless, many would agree that the proposition we ought to treat subjects known to be equal in a certain sense equally in regard to that sense is morally self-evident. Thus, as Thomas Jefferson proposed, one can hold the propositions to be self-evident as the basis for practical, even revolutionary, behaviours.

- Wikipedia

Why don't they just change it to "We hold these Truths to be forever certain, that all men are created equal"?

Surely this would have saved Jefferson and the rest from some tiresome expostulation.

Any literary types out there care to disagree?


-CC

Revolutionary Manifesto No. 8

What will the world be like once we've solved all our problems?

Only The Compassionate Cynic dares to contemplate this entirely possible outcome for the human race. He has come out of hiding for the sole purpose of circulating the following memo.

The Future?

No More Work Thanks!

or

Society Post-Scarcity

"Could it be that hard?"

- The Compassionate Cynic

Assumptions:


- the human being is inherently peaceful and curious

- some form of credit or token system must be used where designation of value is considered necessary.




Synopsis:


All labour and any associated service such as distribution is carried out by computers and machines.

Any extraneous services such as design and maintenance of infrastructure and coordination of distribution networks are charged according to an adjusted value based on supply and demand etc.


Information and Entertainment is free*

- includes all research, academia, news and media, but discounts any tangible product requiring manufacture or labour.


Abundant clean, free energy means zero environmental damage.

Invisible technology dominates everyday life, but rather than being glorified and intrusive it is instead concealed and allows for greater freedom and efficiency of communication facilitating the unique personal goals of every individual.

Violence is eradicated due to boundless "career" opportunities and agreeable surroundings.

Proficiency in a certain area of knowledge or skill is valued, but not rewarded. Sufficient personal motivation is a necessary prerequisite for any labour-intensive task.

All other social issues are healed by free voluntary education (attendance is always high due to the now recreational nature of learning).

Law enforcement is not necessary as there are no laws to break due to the often immediate availability of resources of any nature - ultimately leading to greater social wellbeing.

A side effect of this is the elimination of the need for power networks and hierarchies.

Class issues are replaced by distinctions of preference.

The mandatory policy of any heterocultural society inhabiting a common region is absolute tolerance.

All societies existing within defined spacial parameters are free to practice or enforce their own preferred value systems and bureaucratic solutions.

National or even World Government is unnecessary as absolute freedom is guaranteed for every individual, regardless of how freedom is fundamentally perceived (though there is no sanction for actions that invariably initiate consequences that are harmful [to be defined]).

Social responsibility is an inherent value of this society, and does not need to be taught or enforced in any way.

Scientific and spiritual discovery and exploration as well as artistic expression and appreciation replace any proclaimed social benefits of suppressive political systems whos priorities necessarily include the accumulation of wealth and population control.




Possible weaknesses:


Please submit...!

THE END

* where not valued on the subjective merit of their respective educational or aesthetic content.



Don't believe it's possible? Look it up!


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/post-scarcity

Dessert of the Real

"Welcome to the desert of the real..."

- Morpheus

I love this phrase.


Thank you Jean, thank you Slav, you guys rock.

Now I can appreciate all those tasty chunks of simulacra all the better.

Currently finishing off his humble pie,

- The Compassionate Cynic

My Therapist is a Spy

Is yours?

Could it be you've been divulging all your darkest secrets, vainly searching for that much exalted temporary catharsis, while all your personal information is at the heedless mercy of entities unknown?

Beware of those impervious counselors! Don't trust them with your perverted sexual exploits, or your business woes.

You could be just another part of the insidious web of public intelligence gathering which serves only to further the obscure purpose of the terrifying people who are everywhere.

You have been warned.

I hate YOU Jim Schembri! (WARNING: hate post)

It is not often that The Compassionate Cynic submits himself to fits of rage, but due to the respect he has for all things living sometimes it is beneficial to himself and all around him to discharge his information conduits, cleansing himself so as to be able to continue to function normally. No advance apologies will be given for the following.

 Jim Schembri: idiot.

http://blogs.theage.com.au/schembri/

Hey Jim Schembri, you offend my sensibilities.

Who in the world gave you the right to sit in judgment of, or even have a partial say in anything? Why hasn't anyone with half a brain and all the power have you tied up, bound and gagged, tarred and feathered and brutally impaled?

How is it that your awful shit gets published week in, week out while so many hopeful modern classics or sub-cultures humbly seeking wider recognition suffer miserably at the loathsome hands of your slithering, venomous pen and eventually die a harrowing death?

Your vulgar prose and cultural tunnel vision turn every letter in your stagnant articles into an inky, repugnant hemlock, which seeps into the pupils and pollutes the minds of any wide-eyed aspiring journos and media types - soon to be studio grunts and desk jockeys, who unfortunately, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, have the bad luck of being callously assaulted by your depravity.

All your opaque reviews are witlessly engineered of ignorant yet obstrusive opinionated baloney balls stuffed with horse shit. Still, credit where it's due, and that could only be for your astounding consistency (literally of the viscous kind).

In fact, your very media presence is so foul it's hard to believe a person can turn to a page with your name on it, and not be unceremoniously propelled backwards by the degenerate squall of stench blasting out from underneath the 'reviews' headline.

Anybody insane enough to be too curious for their own good and approaches it willingly will be sucked into the horrid world of middle-class pretentiousness and cruel ignorance, followed by heinous disgorgement into mainstream society as a grimly deformed philosophical zombie.

Speaking of which, What purpose do you serve? Who the fuck do you appeal to anyway? Volvo drivers? How many of them are there left? And what idiot appreciates your sense of humour these days? You certainly don't strike any major chords (sic. [Wow, that's almost as bad as your jokes!]) with Trevor Sixpack, and anybody who has endured even the most basic of cinema studies courses has better taste than you so who are you trying to impress? Even Alan Partridge (were he not fictitious) would be rolling in his shallow grave, and so would Jesus (were he not resurrected). Please leave the world alone and let good culture develop uninhibited.

Nevertheless, even if you do eventually comply, we've had enough. My semi-transparent yet incandescent buddies are looking to fuck you up good you evil turd emitter! Our plan is to surreptitiously throw popcorn at you when you're at the movies, then, while you're smugly engrossed in writing your vile, sullied notes for your toxic, puerile reviews we'll sneak up on you from behind and set your fucking hair on fire.

Watch out you shitbowl, everywhere you'll be we'll be right behind you... waiting, with candles.

So fuck you, Jim Schembri, fuck you till your eyes bleed when we finally take our revenge for the literary trauma you've induced and force you to read over and over in a jackknife position what once respected newspapers now deem to be acceptable print. This will continue until you realise that the steady decline of global discernment rests squarely and entirely on your shoulders, like all the people with our predilection ready to jump up and down on them repeatedly. Only then might you get a taste of your own bad medicine.

Forever optimistic and sincerely yours,

- CC

TV Show: The Hollowmen

It is often necessary for The Compassionate Cynic to Seek Out and Highlight noteworthy products of the melange of cultures which inhabit this planet.

With this in mind, he deigns to present to you an outright plug of a recent TV show, recently having stopped airing (hopefully temporarily) after 2 seasons on ABC1 between July and October and which you can probably now purchase on DVD.

Little known outside the standard Clandestine Clique of Middle-Class Elites clearly due to its late hour, it achieved high ratings consistently throughout its run, the pilot episode ranking 1st in its time slot.

Rob Sitch, (of Frontline fame), has done a fantastic job of directing, co-writing and co-creating this mockumentary series about the daily work lives of the Prime Minister's fictional Central Policy Unit, a "committee", sorry - "gathering" of political advisers. Think Larry David producing a series of Yes Minister. Knowing puns abound and there's a good dose of cerebral language humour. The episodes play out in true Aussie style, the combination of wit and subtle satire evoking more snide chortles than outright laughter. However that's not to say there aren't any moments that elicit the latter.

Sitch is guilty of a little "big acting" here, but his character often has the best jokes, perfectly offset by the staunch yet necessarily complacent persona of David "Murph" Murphy (Lachy Hulme). Wonderfully played all round by the incredible cast (watch out for Graeme Blundell as Geoff, the coarse but thankfully resolute Party Director), not to mention the various superb women (notably the stunning Jaquie Brennan and the beautiful Nicola Parry) who all suit their parts perfectly (and of course, aren't female Australian actors the best in the industry? Seems Hollywood agrees!).

Other great characters include Phillip (David James), the Secretary of the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet (a title derived from reality that's hilarious in itself) and Warren, his lackey-like Departmental Secretary.

It's fun to see the whole cast engage with each other in the sometimes playful, often bizarre surroundings of Parliament House, watching them have casual conversations about the interpretation of La Boheme whilst bravely and consistently weaseling their way out of making policy. The episode "A Waste of Energy" on Global Warming is a standout. Generally, the show succeeds at poking fun at politics as well as the current cultural climate; as all good satire should.

On a more academic note, The Compassionate Cynic has observed that most episodes in the first season usually ended with the crew either not achieving anything, tense matters being resolved by some unexpected 'deus ex machina' (involving either the press or public response), or matters resolving themselves ironically due to the crew's own incompetence.

However in the second season it seems the characters do frequently actually manage to accomplish something (although it's often satisfyingly destructive), and the focus seems to have shifted more toward character quirks complemented by the usual not-so-subtle commentary on our sacred political system.

At the end of the day, the show's heart thumps vivaciously with the truth of the matter: all the characters (and, obviously by definition their respective real-life counterparts) are civil and polite people with good intentions who are great at what they do; it's just that they're all... well, mislead.

Whether you're a politics student, a disgruntled laborer, a media professional or work in Parliament, you'll definitely enjoy all the brilliant and often incisive aspects of this show.

Watch it immediately, if not sooner.

CC.

Image from ident.org, used without permission, sorry. Please get in touch if this is an issue. Good image though.

On the Elusiveness of Magick

Excerpt from "The Book of Sublime Ritual" (Chapter 5, Verse 18).

"Just as a neophyte seeks to possess a deity, a teacher demands restitution for his knowledge and a gambler tempts fate, so one who performs the sacred arts benighted forgoes his right to the desired outcome.
For it is whilst reveling in the act of trickery that the trickster himself becomes a fool, beguiled by his own creation."

The Medea Paradox: A Concise Resolution

Attention! This is for all you classics students out there trying to figure it all out :)

The Compassionate Cynic has a quote that you can include in your essays... make your lecturer proud!

Here it is... are you ready...?



"Being overly emotional makes you stupid, and being too rational makes you a c**t".





-CC (Yours Truly)

Rude Awakening

Something had awakened The Compassionate Cynic from his peaceful slumber. A hollow, almost buzzing like presence was heading toward him at great speed.

Grudgingly turning to his side to determine the cause of the furor, his delicate film-like skin almost peeled right off his rigid but still brittle partially hibernating body.

Yes, it was the noise of the American Presidential Elections.

The fact that this obnoxious entity had somehow made its way into his chambers disturbed the Cynic. The next step was to find out why.

* * *

What I wasn't fully aware of was the fact that I hadn't yet consumed my daily feed. The Feed is important to me because that's how I nourish myself. I seamlessly swallow many feeds simultaneously and process them through my internal conductors so that any excrement is thoroughly sorted, put aside, and later gracefully ejected. All the yummy bits get filtered through the word-grinder, dispersed into the massive colon aggregator and finally squeezed out through the bit stream orifice for all the world to admire and appreciate.

The morsel I was about to get a taste of today was especially hard to digest. It struck me head on in the skull and as I was busy picking myself up it knocked me to the floor and beat me repeatedly around the region of my very sensitive content-rectifier.

Indeed, it was awful.

The resonance would come from all directions. The incessant, nagging buzz of hype, trite faces, false promises and general deviance; and belying it all, in the most subtle, persistent of ways was the Great Facade. Or is it the Great Farce?

Needless to say, the Most United Conglomerate is clearly going to hell in a bucket. Of course, it has been slowly spiraling downwards since the last few time-counts in which I had observed it. There has been a steady sway toward imbalance in the general region and the culmination is to be seen in the multifarious vile spectacles and charades that can be witnessed in this realm at this time and date.

The importance of the results of the upcoming Election will be negligent compared to the horrendous impact of the increasingly populist tactics employed by all parties involved, the distorted value-systems by which its members are defined and the unstoppable fallout all over the globe due to its eventual misguided, self-deluded termination.

Or there could be Hope.

* * *

After being thoroughly torn to shreds by its captivating wiles, The Compassionate Cynic destroyed the offensive projection and melded together once more as he is too often fated to do. And since the days' events had shaken him so unpleasantly he retired to his chambers once more.

What occurs during the sleep-cycle of The Compassionate Cynic is still a mystery.

Would you believe...?

Is it too far a leap of meme-clusters to say that there is a significant correlation between fear, anxiety and evil?

Not that these terms aren't completely loaded but hey, surely even defining them ad nauseum wouldn't yield too negatively deviated an answer from the original hypothesis.

I think Yoda may have had something to say about this...

Dispassionate Dispersion

this post is temporary


[nb. this used to be a link to my 'Technocrati' profile, which I thought would help to disseminate this blog - unfortunately it was bullshit.]

Let's Get Preachy

* * *

Let me propose a theory:

The hypothesis? - Much of the produce of the human soul (i.e. social order, culture, art) is entirely egocentric. Profound? Just you wait!

I hate using the word egocentric but I guess I should use it here for lack of a better way to describe what mysterious processes make up the the human mind and all it's motives. Some believe in the existence of a soul. In the ancient and modern worlds, this literary sign has taken on many shapes and forms; psyche, ghost, spirit, chi, brahman. etc.

Of course, the above are signs in their own right, representing many forms of expression about human existence and its mysteries, and not just the external ones, but also the ones that are innermost.

Yet there is so much variety in human expression (often operationally dubbed "behaviour"), that I often find myself so lost in the 'power' (again, lack of a better word) of all these signs and symbols that I ask myself "Where do they come from?".

And then I'm drawn back in again.

* * *

With utter compassion and cynicism,

-CC

Statement on Expression

Lofty prose and extended extrapolation can often be misconstrued simply as intellectual self-stimulation. The Cynic deems it appropriate to fervently disagree with this shameful conclusion, and berates any would-be parties willing to go so far as to endorse and even propagate it.

Such a monstrous denial would forever tarnish the divine landscape wherein it germinates, sporing the vacuity and impotence which will eventually seed the new world of consistent literary ambiguity. This plague of doubt, deconstruction and dissolution must be prevented, and the only way to triumph will be to barrage the surrounding countryside with wave after wave of effluent pontification and expostulation.

The Cynic has thus divined that the detractors of embellishment and general floridity shall be cast into the empty, colourless, odourless and senseless pit of inanity from whence they were begotten, to be forever assaulted with blatant mediocrity.


(NB: two instances after having posted the above, The Compassionate Cynic had to duck out the back for a private moment. He has not been heard from since.)

On Ethics

The Compassionate Cynic posits this thought experiment:



A female violinist, having suffered her share of being bumped about by the ominous Classical Music Industry is forced out onto the streets to become a busker.

Whilst applying her virtuostic talents a male bystander flicks a ten dollar note into her case, leans close to her and whispers "Only because you're beautiful".



Possible conclusions can be drawn from this scenario:

1. The man is incapable of appreciating all forms of beauty.
2. The musical talent of the violinist is in question.
3. Busking is more profitable with good looks.
4. A value can be placed on any aesthetic endeavor.
5. The man is a sexist pig.
6. The man is a passionate philanthropist.
7. The violinist receives a boost in self-confidence
8. The violinist is mortally offended


The Compassionate Cynic seeks more conclusions to add to his database. Please donate your conclusions.

A Received Communication

"Essay on Human History"
from the research and writings of Hi'amlin Praaschken, noted Zebulan exobioanthropologist and creative thinker.

(time-dilation decoded and translated into English by The Compassionate Cynic, with introduction and glossary by The Compassionate Cynic)


Introduction

The author of this text, whose name can be roughly put into Latin script as Hi'amlin Praaschken, is a being whom I encountered one day quite by chance. My experience of this being is incapable of being described by any literary means. Perhaps it could be expressed as a melody, or even as the movement of the bowels of a gerbil. Of course, this is how it seemed to me. Hi'amlin is an entity that cannot be witnessed wholly by any species without the correct capacity to do so. I myself could understand only enough of him to determine that the Zebulans were one of the many essence consciousnesses that infrequently and inexplicably permeate my habitat. The etymology of the word Zebulan arises from my interpretation of some of Hi'amlin's linguistics. He indicated that Zebulan is merely the collection of symbols used by him to describe any entity inhabiting his realm. I told him that as a proper noun it was quite unoriginal. I then received what appeared to be a synthetic wave of jumbled symbology.

Having undertaken the arduous task of comprehending this data I have compiled a series of notes which I believe accurately reflect the author's intentions. However, being the entity that he is, it is often impossible to distinguish between Hi'amlin's meticulous prose and his character. Hence some of his sentences appear elongated, and some concepts require reiteration. It must be noted that there are many descriptions in his work that imply similar concepts. These concepts have been defined in this translation as variants on the notion of 'systems'. There are many 'systems' apparent in this work and care should be taken to view them in the correct context when attempting to decipher the following, presented in two parts and beginning with an abstract.

Our failings are Hi'amlin's failings and his are in turn ours. He should not be seen as a knower, but rather a compiler and translator of knowledge. So it is with respect that the Compassionate Cynic accepts his humble input.

-CC


Abstract:

It so happened that into my possession came a memory unit. I had acquired it from a merchant with whom I do business regularly, fueled by my insatiable need for gathering information and piecing together coherent accounts of activities of any intelligent life I may come across. My merchant friend Abalind is a traveler, inspired by the noble goal of exploration as long as it is undertaken in order to enrich one's understanding of all that is. I myself subscribe to this practice, though my means are more passive and cerebral than Abalind's, though I believe that we both secretly admit that understanding each others' thoughts and experiences is crucial for sustaining our own individual process of exploration.

The project we are currently working on concerns an inhabited planet within a star system in Galaxy 1328-c. From examination of the plethora of fragmented data I have determined that the most active in thought production of the species on this planet
were those capable enough so that, through an intricate system of observation and creative thought came to call themselves 'homo sapien'. To illustrate the necessity to understand this obscure species I have compiled the following: an attempt at a summary of the mental states, actions and relationships exhibited by this species and also the ways in which reflection on these factors shaped their development.

The framework I have provided is partly based on our own assumptions and thoroughly debated hermeneutics. The current understanding in the field is that all biological organisms have motivation which stems from their design and function. This motivation has undergone a gradual exponential development as the organisms mutate and struggle to thrive in their contemporary environment. We accept this theory based on evidence from all other species in the universe, carbon based or other. We have observed that the tendency for intelligence arises when an organism develops enough complicated systems that control its internal material interrelationships for it to need one or several subsystems of matter whose own interrelationships lead the organism to experience a unitary awareness. This awareness has been classed as having many layers of operation but differentiating between these layers and their functions has been confounded by the discovery of yet more layers and sub-layers. Furthermore, this discovery has been disputed by various branches of our community who state that there can be no certain way to interpret these systems, for that would require an act of interpretation which would necessarily have to be initiated by these systems in the first place. Also, to add to the excruciating number of variables to be taken into consideration is the ability for the organism to communicate information and thus influence the sensibilities of other organisms with which it shares systemic compatibility.

So as not to confound myself and any readers with philosophical dilemmas and with the belief that knowledge and experience can often lead to truth, I am in the process of presenting a paper that outlines the development of Planet 3908213-G and its native species in the hope that their story reflects our own history and gives us some insight into the nature of a specific arrangement of matter's ability to create and process non-material symbols, and inversely the effect these symbols have on the organisms that created them.

Disclaimer: In this analysis I strive to be as objective as possible, in this instance 'objectivity' being my ability to put together all information available to me into a coherent chronological narrative. I apologise for any omission of fact and any unwarranted assumptions that are culturally biased. However, I attest that these assumptions are necessary so as to allow the reader to identify with this species and gain an overall sense of who and what they were.


END OF ABSTRACT


Stay tuned for Part 1!

Charlie Wilson's Wanger (and it's HUGE impact on humanity)

So supposedly there's this guy Charlie Wilson, and he's a senator of some arbitrary state in the US way back in the rockin' 1980s. This 'review' (c) The Compassionate Cynic.

A so-called senator (Tom Hanks) manages to engage recreationally in global policy and maintain his professional philandering in a fantasy world somewhere in the long-distant 20th century.
Accompanied by his sidekick, the disgruntled Recreational Spook (Philip Seymour Hoffman) they wage war on a fantasy enemy using fantasy taxpayer money with the rational justification that this seemed to be the right thing to do at the time.

Unfortunately for them they were unaware of the fantasy Menacing Ideology's propensity to self-destruct from within and thus thwart their juvenile idealism by causing massive fantasy socio-economic and ideological fallout all over the unsuspecting fantasy planet and its population. Ultimately, the fantasy is revealed to both characters and they relax, safe in this knowledge.

Could this shocking series of events have transpired in 'real life'?

The film asserts that it may well have, by subtly insinuating that the basis of it's plot lies in factual events.

However, The Cynic recently partook in the viewing of a BBC documentary that informed him in an authoritative British accent that events took place a little differently, making no mention of a Charlie Wilson...

But wait! Of course in the film the senator functions Covertly! Obviously, this is a masterful obfuscation of fact by literary means. Writer Aaron Sorkin is known for his left-wing television lunacy (The West Wing, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip), and doubtless could not reject the opportunity to wave his long left finger at the corruption that seems eternally inherent in right-wing politics (a statement which, of course, cannot be disputed).

As much of a fairy tale as it potentially is, 'Charlie Wilson's War' manages to pull off some impressive social commentary, and as coherent as it's no doubt heart-warming message is, it enabled The Compassionate Cynic to feel both compassion and cynicism, as is the norm.

To Conclude:
Whether or not the meta-irony regarding truth and distortion of facts was intentional, this film receives the coveted Quantum Thumb State* rating.







*whereby the thumb is in both 'up' and 'down' thumb-states simultaneously.

On Essence, Existence, and all those Aethery-like Substances

"Hmmm..." mused The Compassionate Cynic, ironically referring to himself in the third person.

After stopping for a moment to ponder pondering itself, he crawled out of his habitat and began to think about devising a possible framework in order to determine a viable way to meaningfully explore the nature of meaning.

"If we assume that we can understand what it is means to understand, then to have meaning we must assume that we understand what meaning is."

These were his first thoughts, in whose wake followed many more like it until he decided to look up 'post-structural semantics' on Wikipedia. Having found no useful information pertaining to his initial query, he retired to his habitat to continue to exist as pure essence.

Or did he?

On Creation and Oblivion

Owing to an inevitable power failure caused by unpaid electricity bills, the projector running the cue-screen in the unmanned TV studio abruptly flickered off, but not after making a few clicking sounds, moaning and muttering "frikken' finally", the way cue-screen projectors have a habit of doing when there aren't any members of the genus homo present.

The Compassionate Cynic, oozing out of the ventilator shaft above the desolate set blinked quietly before dribbling through the office carpet, down multiple levels of steel reinforced concrete and into the unspeakable underworld of intellectual obscurity, misapplied wisdom and self-confounding logic.

It seemed that all was lost. The glory of public nation-wide prefrontal cortex stimulation and general shameless political punditry had been taken away from him forever. In a raging cathartic shudder he unburdened himself of all worldy desire, and lived out the rest of his life alone in a cave in a large mountain.

Fortunately, owing to his ability to asexually reproduce, The Compassionate Cynic offloaded unto the world a squirming batch of cynical offspring, who then unloaded another batch, followed by another. Sadly each and every one of them bar one shriveled up due to early-onset solipsistic fibrosis owing to the unfortunate Mendelian legacy provided by Cynic Senior.

And so The Compassionate Cynic of the Present was born. He had inherited his ancestor's incisive perceptiveness but had developed his own brand of communication. Using it, he would strive to confuse, confound and convince with a crusade consisting of creativity, collation and concentration of core concepts... hopefully without sounding like a ninny.

The writings of The Compassionate Cynic henceforth are reproduced here.

Welcome Post

(In an empty television studio, a lone cue-screen displays these words for what could be the first, or perhaps the last time):


IN A WORLD GORGING ITSELF WHILST GASPING AND CHOKING ON BANALITY AND FRIVOLITY

ONE FORCE DARES TO ARISE TO COMBAT THE IMPENDING AESTHETIC APOCALYPSE!

YES, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF ALL SOCIO-ECONOMIC DENOMINATIONS

IT'S...

THE COMPASSIONATE CYNIC!


(pause, cue apprehensive music)


HE WILL SEEK OUT AND DESTROY ALL MINDLESS DRIVEL WHICH PERMEATES SOCIETY!

HE WILL AVENGE THE DEVASTATING LEGACY OF NEGATIVE IDEOLOGIES!

HE WILL DEFEND INTEGRITY TO THE LAST KEYSTROKE,

AND VANQUISH THE WRETCHED FOES OF GOOD TASTE AND SINCERITY!


(pause, cue bombastic theme music)...