But to tear down a factory or to revolt against a government or to avoid repair of a motorcycle because it is a system is to attack effects rather than causes; and as long as the attack is upon effects only, no change is possible. The true system, the real system, is our present construction of systematic thought itself., rationality itself, and if a factory is torn down but the rationality which produced it is left standing, then that rationality will simply produce another factory. If a revolution destroys a systematic government but the systematic patterns of thought that produced that government are left intact, then those patterns will repeat themselves in the succeeding government. There's so much talk about the system. And so little understanding.
This, my friends, is why I will not be stressing over obtaining an absentee ballot. But if Obama loses by one vote, I will feel guilty, admittedly.
In all the Oriental religions great value is placed on the Sanskrit doctrine of Tat tvam asi, "Thou art that," which asserts that everything you think you are and everything you think you perceive are undivided. To realize fully this lack of division is to become enlightened.
Notice he doesn't say "everything you are" or "everything you perceive".
You are never dedicated to something you have complete confidence in. No one is fanatically shouting that the sun is going to rise tomorrow. They know it's going to rise tomorrow. When people are fanatically dedicated to political or religious faiths or any other kinds of dogmas or goals, it's always because these dogmas or goals are in doubt.
Yes, sir. Sort of like that one guy in that Saigon Singles article that said his only con was "too much awesome" -- only completely different and totally obnoxious.
The material object of observation, the bicycle or rotisserie, can't be right or wrong. Molecules are molecules. They don't have any ethical codes to follow except those people give them. The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right. If it disturbs you it's wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed. The test of the machine's always your own mind. There isn't any other test.
Well, I'll be. And I hope you've made it this far, because I've saved my favorite for last:
He read Kant's esthetics with disappointment and then anger. The ideas expressed about the 'beautiful' were themselves ugly to him, and the ugliness was so deep and pervasive he hadn't a clue as to where to begin to attack it or to try to get around it. It seemed woven right into the whole fabric of Kant's wold so deeply there was no escape from it. It wasn't just eighteenth-century ugliness or 'technical' ugliness. All of the philosophers he was reading showed it. The whole university he was attending smelled of the same ugliness. It was everywhere, in the classroom, in the textbooks. It was in himself and he didn't know how or why. It was reason itself that was ugly and there seemed no way to get free.
Too bad the test is always your own mind, eh?
