#enjoyment — Public Fediverse posts

I've noticed that listening to music just isn't what it used to be since I started to use streaming. It's very nice to have all the music in the world (well, within reason) at your fingertips, but I think the process of selecting a CD from a limited, curated collection, putting it in the player and playing it somehow was more satisfying. It's all too easy with streaming.

#music #Streaming #CD #enjoyment

I've noticed that listening to music just isn't what it used to be since I started to use streaming. It's very nice to have all the music in the world (well, within reason) at your fingertips, but I think the process of selecting a CD from a limited, curated collection, putting it in the player and playing it somehow was more satisfying. It's all too easy with streaming.

#music #Streaming #CD #enjoyment

I've noticed that listening to music just isn't what it used to be since I started to use streaming. It's very nice to have all the music in the world (well, within reason) at your fingertips, but I think the process of selecting a CD from a limited, curated collection, putting it in the player and playing it somehow was more satisfying. It's all too easy with streaming.

#music #Streaming #CD #enjoyment

I've noticed that listening to music just isn't what it used to be since I started to use streaming. It's very nice to have all the music in the world (well, within reason) at your fingertips, but I think the process of selecting a CD from a limited, curated collection, putting it in the player and playing it somehow was more satisfying. It's all too easy with streaming.

#music #Streaming #CD #enjoyment

I've noticed that listening to music just isn't what it used to be since I started to use streaming. It's very nice to have all the music in the world (well, within reason) at your fingertips, but I think the process of selecting a CD from a limited, curated collection, putting it in the player and playing it somehow was more satisfying. It's all too easy with streaming.

#music #Streaming #CD #enjoyment

The jouissance of writing

From Mari Ruti’s The Creative Self: Beyond Individualism, loc 1781:

Its intensity is such that I cannot exactly call it pleasurable. The sheer volume of sentences pouring out, and the rapidity with which they form, can feel overwhelming. This is an experience of jouissance in as pure a form as I am able to experience it, which is why it is the kind of pleasure that borders on pain. I know that others experience it differently, sometimes even as an erotic event.118 But for me it is mostly agonizing. Fortunately, things shift when I reach the editorial stage which, by comparison, is calm and calming. That is when the process slows down and writing becomes a more straightforward pleasure.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwjzJKCZWYc

Nothing is more entertaining
Than fuckin’ with words and their arrangement

I really identify with what Ruti is describing here, even if in my case it’s unambiguously pleasurable. There is nonetheless an excess to the pleasure which means it needs to be described as jouissance. It feels to me like there’s a continuous stream of reactions and associations forming just beneath the surface of my awareness which I tune into when I’m writing. The writing process is little more than just deliberately tuning in so that stream starts flowing out of me and onto the page, until either it feels exhausted or I do at which point I stop.

It’s a process which I’ve learned to steer by being vaguely purposeful with what I read, who I talk to, what I think about. I suspect if I stopped reading, stopped having interesting conversations, the stream wouldn’t exactly dry up but it would lose force and momentum in a way that would make writing far more difficult. At present it’s just a case of finding time to tune into that inner process, which at the moment is proving extremely difficulty. But it’s still relatively easy to write every day in at least one small burst.

The problem I experience is editing. Firstly, it’s something I struggle with cognitively. I know how to write over my own words in a way that gradually refines them. I know how to reach a point where I’m able and willing to hack away at the manuscript. There’s a certain pleasure in killing your darlings once you reach a vivid sense of the finished work underlying them. But I can only restructure in an intuitive way. I find it hard to cognitively map a text which is why I increasingly rely on LLMs to help me plan this process.

Perhaps more importantly I get bored at this stage. It’s not that I don’t care about the finished work but the jouissance described above has largely gone. Ruti has a lovely image about jouissance and words on loc 1225:

Sometimes I even picture tiny morsels of jouissance latching themselves onto the underbellies of select signifiers so as to give them the kind of boost that enables them to resuscitate the domain of signification

When I’m editing I can still stumble across these little barnacles of jouissance attached to my words. But they’ve washed up on the beach and the jouissance has now died. I can see they were there, but the energy is gone. It means I find editing a slightly depressing process as well as a boring one. It’s the mirror image of the liveness and lightness which characterises writing for me. A sort of turgid death march because I know I have to engage in before anyone will be willing or interesting in the outgrowths of this strangely energetic and ultimately slightly solipsistic process of how I write.

The jouissance of writing

From Mari Ruti’s The Creative Self: Beyond Individualism, loc 1781:

Its intensity is such that I cannot exactly call it pleasurable. The sheer volume of sentences pouring out, and the rapidity with which they form, can feel overwhelming. This is an experience of jouissance in as pure a form as I am able to experience it, which is why it is the kind of pleasure that borders on pain. I know that others experience it differently, sometimes even as an erotic event.118 But for me it is mostly agonizing. Fortunately, things shift when I reach the editorial stage which, by comparison, is calm and calming. That is when the process slows down and writing becomes a more straightforward pleasure.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwjzJKCZWYc

Nothing is more entertaining
Than fuckin’ with words and their arrangement

I really identify with what Ruti is describing here, even if in my case it’s unambiguously pleasurable. There is nonetheless an excess to the pleasure which means it needs to be described as jouissance. It feels to me like there’s a continuous stream of reactions and associations forming just beneath the surface of my awareness which I tune into when I’m writing. The writing process is little more than just deliberately tuning in so that stream starts flowing out of me and onto the page, until either it feels exhausted or I do at which point I stop.

It’s a process which I’ve learned to steer by being vaguely purposeful with what I read, who I talk to, what I think about. I suspect if I stopped reading, stopped having interesting conversations, the stream wouldn’t exactly dry up but it would lose force and momentum in a way that would make writing far more difficult. At present it’s just a case of finding time to tune into that inner process, which at the moment is proving extremely difficulty. But it’s still relatively easy to write every day in at least one small burst.

The problem I experience is editing. Firstly, it’s something I struggle with cognitively. I know how to write over my own words in a way that gradually refines them. I know how to reach a point where I’m able and willing to hack away at the manuscript. There’s a certain pleasure in killing your darlings once you reach a vivid sense of the finished work underlying them. But I can only restructure in an intuitive way. I find it hard to cognitively map a text which is why I increasingly rely on LLMs to help me plan this process.

Perhaps more importantly I get bored at this stage. It’s not that I don’t care about the finished work but the jouissance described above has largely gone. Ruti has a lovely image about jouissance and words on loc 1225:

Sometimes I even picture tiny morsels of jouissance latching themselves onto the underbellies of select signifiers so as to give them the kind of boost that enables them to resuscitate the domain of signification

When I’m editing I can still stumble across these little barnacles of jouissance attached to my words. But they’ve washed up on the beach and the jouissance has now died. I can see they were there, but the energy is gone. It means I find editing a slightly depressing process as well as a boring one. It’s the mirror image of the liveness and lightness which characterises writing for me. A sort of turgid death march because I know I have to engage in before anyone will be willing or interesting in the outgrowths of this strangely energetic and ultimately slightly solipsistic process of how I write.

The jouissance of writing

From Mari Ruti’s The Creative Self: Beyond Individualism, loc 1781:

Its intensity is such that I cannot exactly call it pleasurable. The sheer volume of sentences pouring out, and the rapidity with which they form, can feel overwhelming. This is an experience of jouissance in as pure a form as I am able to experience it, which is why it is the kind of pleasure that borders on pain. I know that others experience it differently, sometimes even as an erotic event.118 But for me it is mostly agonizing. Fortunately, things shift when I reach the editorial stage which, by comparison, is calm and calming. That is when the process slows down and writing becomes a more straightforward pleasure.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwjzJKCZWYc

Nothing is more entertaining
Than fuckin’ with words and their arrangement

I really identify with what Ruti is describing here, even if in my case it’s unambiguously pleasurable. There is nonetheless an excess to the pleasure which means it needs to be described as jouissance. It feels to me like there’s a continuous stream of reactions and associations forming just beneath the surface of my awareness which I tune into when I’m writing. The writing process is little more than just deliberately tuning in so that stream starts flowing out of me and onto the page, until either it feels exhausted or I do at which point I stop.

It’s a process which I’ve learned to steer by being vaguely purposeful with what I read, who I talk to, what I think about. I suspect if I stopped reading, stopped having interesting conversations, the stream wouldn’t exactly dry up but it would lose force and momentum in a way that would make writing far more difficult. At present it’s just a case of finding time to tune into that inner process, which at the moment is proving extremely difficulty. But it’s still relatively easy to write every day in at least one small burst.

The problem I experience is editing. Firstly, it’s something I struggle with cognitively. I know how to write over my own words in a way that gradually refines them. I know how to reach a point where I’m able and willing to hack away at the manuscript. There’s a certain pleasure in killing your darlings once you reach a vivid sense of the finished work underlying them. But I can only restructure in an intuitive way. I find it hard to cognitively map a text which is why I increasingly rely on LLMs to help me plan this process.

Perhaps more importantly I get bored at this stage. It’s not that I don’t care about the finished work but the jouissance described above has largely gone. Ruti has a lovely image about jouissance and words on loc 1225:

Sometimes I even picture tiny morsels of jouissance latching themselves onto the underbellies of select signifiers so as to give them the kind of boost that enables them to resuscitate the domain of signification

When I’m editing I can still stumble across these little barnacles of jouissance attached to my words. But they’ve washed up on the beach and the jouissance has now died. I can see they were there, but the energy is gone. It means I find editing a slightly depressing process as well as a boring one. It’s the mirror image of the liveness and lightness which characterises writing for me. A sort of turgid death march because I know I have to engage in before anyone will be willing or interesting in the outgrowths of this strangely energetic and ultimately slightly solipsistic process of how I write.

The jouissance of writing

From Mari Ruti’s The Creative Self: Beyond Individualism, loc 1781:

Its intensity is such that I cannot exactly call it pleasurable. The sheer volume of sentences pouring out, and the rapidity with which they form, can feel overwhelming. This is an experience of jouissance in as pure a form as I am able to experience it, which is why it is the kind of pleasure that borders on pain. I know that others experience it differently, sometimes even as an erotic event.118 But for me it is mostly agonizing. Fortunately, things shift when I reach the editorial stage which, by comparison, is calm and calming. That is when the process slows down and writing becomes a more straightforward pleasure.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwjzJKCZWYc

Nothing is more entertaining
Than fuckin’ with words and their arrangement

I really identify with what Ruti is describing here, even if in my case it’s unambiguously pleasurable. There is nonetheless an excess to the pleasure which means it needs to be described as jouissance. It feels to me like there’s a continuous stream of reactions and associations forming just beneath the surface of my awareness which I tune into when I’m writing. The writing process is little more than just deliberately tuning in so that stream starts flowing out of me and onto the page, until either it feels exhausted or I do at which point I stop.

It’s a process which I’ve learned to steer by being vaguely purposeful with what I read, who I talk to, what I think about. I suspect if I stopped reading, stopped having interesting conversations, the stream wouldn’t exactly dry up but it would lose force and momentum in a way that would make writing far more difficult. At present it’s just a case of finding time to tune into that inner process, which at the moment is proving extremely difficulty. But it’s still relatively easy to write every day in at least one small burst.

The problem I experience is editing. Firstly, it’s something I struggle with cognitively. I know how to write over my own words in a way that gradually refines them. I know how to reach a point where I’m able and willing to hack away at the manuscript. There’s a certain pleasure in killing your darlings once you reach a vivid sense of the finished work underlying them. But I can only restructure in an intuitive way. I find it hard to cognitively map a text which is why I increasingly rely on LLMs to help me plan this process.

Perhaps more importantly I get bored at this stage. It’s not that I don’t care about the finished work but the jouissance described above has largely gone. Ruti has a lovely image about jouissance and words on loc 1225:

Sometimes I even picture tiny morsels of jouissance latching themselves onto the underbellies of select signifiers so as to give them the kind of boost that enables them to resuscitate the domain of signification

When I’m editing I can still stumble across these little barnacles of jouissance attached to my words. But they’ve washed up on the beach and the jouissance has now died. I can see they were there, but the energy is gone. It means I find editing a slightly depressing process as well as a boring one. It’s the mirror image of the liveness and lightness which characterises writing for me. A sort of turgid death march because I know I have to engage in before anyone will be willing or interesting in the outgrowths of this strangely energetic and ultimately slightly solipsistic process of how I write.

Who we are arises from how we have been hurt

From Mari Ruti’s The Call of Character pg 18:

Likewise, there is perhaps nothing that contributes to the uniqueness of our character more than our suffering. In so many ways, who we are arises from how we have been hurt. This does not mean that we cannot find our way past our injuries or that they determine our future. But it does suggest that our sense of authenticity cannot be divorced from the hardships and disappointments we have endured.

From pg 21:

It may, for example, turn out that something that causes us suffering will eventually grow into a nugget of wisdom that guides us to a valuable course adjustment. And a breakdown that leaves us gasping for air can eventually lead to an important breakthrough that reconfigures our lives for the better. This is why Nietzsche believes that we should choose to love our fate—that instead of struggling against the constraints of our situation, we should actively welcome these constraints because they are the foundation of our ability to elaborate our character.

This is exactly what I found so powerful in Hans Loewald’s notion of transforming ghosts into ancestors. There’s a particular mode through which we metabolise suffering, the deep and profound ontological injuries which mean we can’t continue as we were, which makes a particular mode of growth possible. From Thoughts Without a Thinker by Mark Epstein pg 200-201:

The psychoanalyst Hans Loewald wrote of transforming the ghosts that haunt patients into ancestors, through tasting what he called the “blood of recognition” in the relationship with the therapist. He asserted that the ghosts must be led out of the unconscious, reawakened through the intensity of the therapeutic relationship, and then laid to rest, relegated to history, thus allowing the person more flexibility and intensity in present relations.

There are things we can be lost within which these wounds, or rather the process of moving through them, can lead us out of. We don’t become someone who wasn’t hurt in this way but rather become someone who can live well despite being hurt in that way. In Lacanian terms we see a reconfiguration of the relationship to our own enjoyment, as we reclaim it through a movement of traversing a (now shattered) fantasy. But Mari Ruti expresses it so much more beautifully and concretely than any of the Lacanians do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29rCU1H1oo0&list=RDGMEMBhrNM15bN0pM50WECpic-AVMRa8gSw7Djvo&index=2

I keep having dreams of things I need to do
And waking up but not following through
But it feels like I haven't slept at all
When I wake to a silence and she's facing the wall
Posters of Dylan and of Hemingway
An antique compass for a sailor's escape
She says, "You just can't live this way"
And I close my eyes and I never say
I'm still having dreams

Who we are arises from how we have been hurt

From Mari Ruti’s The Call of Character pg 18:

Likewise, there is perhaps nothing that contributes to the uniqueness of our character more than our suffering. In so many ways, who we are arises from how we have been hurt. This does not mean that we cannot find our way past our injuries or that they determine our future. But it does suggest that our sense of authenticity cannot be divorced from the hardships and disappointments we have endured.

From pg 21:

It may, for example, turn out that something that causes us suffering will eventually grow into a nugget of wisdom that guides us to a valuable course adjustment. And a breakdown that leaves us gasping for air can eventually lead to an important breakthrough that reconfigures our lives for the better. This is why Nietzsche believes that we should choose to love our fate—that instead of struggling against the constraints of our situation, we should actively welcome these constraints because they are the foundation of our ability to elaborate our character.

This is exactly what I found so powerful in Hans Loewald’s notion of transforming ghosts into ancestors. There’s a particular mode through which we metabolise suffering, the deep and profound ontological injuries which mean we can’t continue as we were, which makes a particular mode of growth possible. From Thoughts Without a Thinker by Mark Epstein pg 200-201:

The psychoanalyst Hans Loewald wrote of transforming the ghosts that haunt patients into ancestors, through tasting what he called the “blood of recognition” in the relationship with the therapist. He asserted that the ghosts must be led out of the unconscious, reawakened through the intensity of the therapeutic relationship, and then laid to rest, relegated to history, thus allowing the person more flexibility and intensity in present relations.

There are things we can be lost within which these wounds, or rather the process of moving through them, can lead us out of. We don’t become someone who wasn’t hurt in this way but rather become someone who can live well despite being hurt in that way. In Lacanian terms we see a reconfiguration of the relationship to our own enjoyment, as we reclaim it through a movement of traversing a (now shattered) fantasy. But Mari Ruti expresses it so much more beautifully and concretely than any of the Lacanians do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29rCU1H1oo0&list=RDGMEMBhrNM15bN0pM50WECpic-AVMRa8gSw7Djvo&index=2

I keep having dreams of things I need to do
And waking up but not following through
But it feels like I haven't slept at all
When I wake to a silence and she's facing the wall
Posters of Dylan and of Hemingway
An antique compass for a sailor's escape
She says, "You just can't live this way"
And I close my eyes and I never say
I'm still having dreams

Who we are arises from how we have been hurt

From Mari Ruti’s The Call of Character pg 18:

Likewise, there is perhaps nothing that contributes to the uniqueness of our character more than our suffering. In so many ways, who we are arises from how we have been hurt. This does not mean that we cannot find our way past our injuries or that they determine our future. But it does suggest that our sense of authenticity cannot be divorced from the hardships and disappointments we have endured.

From pg 21:

It may, for example, turn out that something that causes us suffering will eventually grow into a nugget of wisdom that guides us to a valuable course adjustment. And a breakdown that leaves us gasping for air can eventually lead to an important breakthrough that reconfigures our lives for the better. This is why Nietzsche believes that we should choose to love our fate—that instead of struggling against the constraints of our situation, we should actively welcome these constraints because they are the foundation of our ability to elaborate our character.

This is exactly what I found so powerful in Hans Loewald’s notion of transforming ghosts into ancestors. There’s a particular mode through which we metabolise suffering, the deep and profound ontological injuries which mean we can’t continue as we were, which makes a particular mode of growth possible. From Thoughts Without a Thinker by Mark Epstein pg 200-201:

The psychoanalyst Hans Loewald wrote of transforming the ghosts that haunt patients into ancestors, through tasting what he called the “blood of recognition” in the relationship with the therapist. He asserted that the ghosts must be led out of the unconscious, reawakened through the intensity of the therapeutic relationship, and then laid to rest, relegated to history, thus allowing the person more flexibility and intensity in present relations.

There are things we can be lost within which these wounds, or rather the process of moving through them, can lead us out of. We don’t become someone who wasn’t hurt in this way but rather become someone who can live well despite being hurt in that way. In Lacanian terms we see a reconfiguration of the relationship to our own enjoyment, as we reclaim it through a movement of traversing a (now shattered) fantasy. But Mari Ruti expresses it so much more beautifully and concretely than any of the Lacanians do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29rCU1H1oo0&list=RDGMEMBhrNM15bN0pM50WECpic-AVMRa8gSw7Djvo&index=2

I keep having dreams of things I need to do
And waking up but not following through
But it feels like I haven't slept at all
When I wake to a silence and she's facing the wall
Posters of Dylan and of Hemingway
An antique compass for a sailor's escape
She says, "You just can't live this way"
And I close my eyes and I never say
I'm still having dreams

Who we are arises from how we have been hurt

From Mari Ruti’s The Call of Character pg 18:

Likewise, there is perhaps nothing that contributes to the uniqueness of our character more than our suffering. In so many ways, who we are arises from how we have been hurt. This does not mean that we cannot find our way past our injuries or that they determine our future. But it does suggest that our sense of authenticity cannot be divorced from the hardships and disappointments we have endured.

From pg 21:

It may, for example, turn out that something that causes us suffering will eventually grow into a nugget of wisdom that guides us to a valuable course adjustment. And a breakdown that leaves us gasping for air can eventually lead to an important breakthrough that reconfigures our lives for the better. This is why Nietzsche believes that we should choose to love our fate—that instead of struggling against the constraints of our situation, we should actively welcome these constraints because they are the foundation of our ability to elaborate our character.

This is exactly what I found so powerful in Hans Loewald’s notion of transforming ghosts into ancestors. There’s a particular mode through which we metabolise suffering, the deep and profound ontological injuries which mean we can’t continue as we were, which makes a particular mode of growth possible. From Thoughts Without a Thinker by Mark Epstein pg 200-201:

The psychoanalyst Hans Loewald wrote of transforming the ghosts that haunt patients into ancestors, through tasting what he called the “blood of recognition” in the relationship with the therapist. He asserted that the ghosts must be led out of the unconscious, reawakened through the intensity of the therapeutic relationship, and then laid to rest, relegated to history, thus allowing the person more flexibility and intensity in present relations.

There are things we can be lost within which these wounds, or rather the process of moving through them, can lead us out of. We don’t become someone who wasn’t hurt in this way but rather become someone who can live well despite being hurt in that way. In Lacanian terms we see a reconfiguration of the relationship to our own enjoyment, as we reclaim it through a movement of traversing a (now shattered) fantasy. But Mari Ruti expresses it so much more beautifully and concretely than any of the Lacanians do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29rCU1H1oo0&list=RDGMEMBhrNM15bN0pM50WECpic-AVMRa8gSw7Djvo&index=2

I keep having dreams of things I need to do
And waking up but not following through
But it feels like I haven't slept at all
When I wake to a silence and she's facing the wall
Posters of Dylan and of Hemingway
An antique compass for a sailor's escape
She says, "You just can't live this way"
And I close my eyes and I never say
I'm still having dreams

During my youth, the Blanket Stand was always the first game of chance one encountered upon entering the Grange Fair and Encampment in Centre Hall. Pennsylvania, 1973. #grange #grangefair #grangefairandencampment #encampment #glamping #blanket #blankets #blanketstand #gamesofchance #gameofchance #gambling #gamblingstands #fair #fairs #carnival #carnivals #summer #summerfun #summerentertainment #entertainment #entertainments #camping #pink #blue #colorful #tent #tents #enjoyment

During my youth, the Blanket Stand was always the first game of chance one encountered upon entering the Grange Fair and Encampment in Centre Hall. Pennsylvania, 1973. #grange #grangefair #grangefairandencampment #encampment #glamping #blanket #blankets #blanketstand #gamesofchance #gameofchance #gambling #gamblingstands #fair #fairs #carnival #carnivals #summer #summerfun #summerentertainment #entertainment #entertainments #camping #pink #blue #colorful #tent #tents #enjoyment

During my youth, the Blanket Stand was always the first game of chance one encountered upon entering the Grange Fair and Encampment in Centre Hall. Pennsylvania, 1973. #grange #grangefair #grangefairandencampment #encampment #glamping #blanket #blankets #blanketstand #gamesofchance #gameofchance #gambling #gamblingstands #fair #fairs #carnival #carnivals #summer #summerfun #summerentertainment #entertainment #entertainments #camping #pink #blue #colorful #tent #tents #enjoyment

During my youth, the Blanket Stand was always the first game of chance one encountered upon entering the Grange Fair and Encampment in Centre Hall. Pennsylvania, 1973. #grange #grangefair #grangefairandencampment #encampment #glamping #blanket #blankets #blanketstand #gamesofchance #gameofchance #gambling #gamblingstands #fair #fairs #carnival #carnivals #summer #summerfun #summerentertainment #entertainment #entertainments #camping #pink #blue #colorful #tent #tents #enjoyment

During my youth, the Blanket Stand was always the first game of chance one encountered upon entering the Grange Fair and Encampment in Centre Hall. Pennsylvania, 1973. #grange #grangefair #grangefairandencampment #encampment #glamping #blanket #blankets #blanketstand #gamesofchance #gameofchance #gambling #gamblingstands #fair #fairs #carnival #carnivals #summer #summerfun #summerentertainment #entertainment #entertainments #camping #pink #blue #colorful #tent #tents #enjoyment

The anti-woke and the fash are clearly on a winning streak, and have been so for a while. And yet they seem just as angry and just as victim complexy as ever.

Do they even enjoy their victory at all? Never have I seen a social movement that everyone knew about be crushed so thoroughly and so quickly as woke was – so why aren't they cheering?

What's the point of destroying so many peoples lives if they can't even feel happy about it?

#woke #antiwoke #fascism #enjoyment #QualityOfLife

The anti-woke and the fash are clearly on a winning streak, and have been so for a while. And yet they seem just as angry and just as victim complexy as ever.

Do they even enjoy their victory at all? Never have I seen a social movement that everyone knew about be crushed so thoroughly and so quickly as woke was – so why aren't they cheering?

What's the point of destroying so many peoples lives if they can't even feel happy about it?

#woke #antiwoke #fascism #enjoyment #QualityOfLife

The anti-woke and the fash are clearly on a winning streak, and have been so for a while. And yet they seem just as angry and just as victim complexy as ever.

Do they even enjoy their victory at all? Never have I seen a social movement that everyone knew about be crushed so thoroughly and so quickly as woke was – so why aren't they cheering?

What's the point of destroying so many peoples lives if they can't even feel happy about it?

#woke #antiwoke #fascism #enjoyment #QualityOfLife

The anti-woke and the fash are clearly on a winning streak, and have been so for a while. And yet they seem just as angry and just as victim complexy as ever.

Do they even enjoy their victory at all? Never have I seen a social movement that everyone knew about be crushed so thoroughly and so quickly as woke was – so why aren't they cheering?

What's the point of destroying so many peoples lives if they can't even feel happy about it?

#woke #antiwoke #fascism #enjoyment #QualityOfLife

The anti-woke and the fash are clearly on a winning streak, and have been so for a while. And yet they seem just as angry and just as victim complexy as ever.

Do they even enjoy their victory at all? Never have I seen a social movement that everyone knew about be crushed so thoroughly and so quickly as woke was – so why aren't they cheering?

What's the point of destroying so many peoples lives if they can't even feel happy about it?

#woke #antiwoke #fascism #enjoyment #QualityOfLife

A quotation from Robert Louis Stevenson

In the life of the artist there need be no hour without its pleasure. I take the author, with whose career I am best acquainted; and it is true he works in a rebellious material, and that the act of writing is cramped and trying both to the eyes and the temper; but remark him in his study, when matter crowds upon him and words are not wanting — in what a continual series of small successes time flows by; with what a sense of power as of one moving mountains, he marshals his petty characters; with what pleasures, both of the ear and eye, he sees his airy structure growing on the page; and how he labours in a craft to which the whole material of his life is tributary, and which opens a door to all his tastes, his loves, his hatreds, and his convictions, so that what he writes is only what he longed to utter. He may have enjoyed many things in this big, tragic playground of the world; but what shall he have enjoyed more fully than a morning of successful work? Suppose it ill paid: the wonder is it should be paid at all. Other men pay, and pay dearly, for pleasures less desirable.

Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) Scottish essayist, novelist, poet
Essay (1888-09), “A Letter to a Young Gentleman Who Proposes to Embrace the Career of Art,” Scribner’s Magazine, Vol. 4, No. 3

More about this quote: wist.info/stevenson-robert-lou…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #robertlouisstevenson #accomplishment #art #artist #author #creativity #creator #enjoyment #hardwork #inthezone #pleasure #satisfaction #writer #writing

A quotation from Mark Twain

How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it!

Mark Twain (1835-1910) American writer [pseud. of Samuel Clemens]
Story (1905-12), “Eve’s Diary,” Harper’s Magazine, Vol. 112, No. 1

More about this quote: wist.info/twain-mark/28734/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #twain #marktwain #eve #contentment #credit #deserve #deserving #earn #enjoyment #fulfillment #gratification #happiness #pleasure #result #satisfaction #work

A quotation from Horace

Fortune nor home not more the man can cheer,
Who lives a prey to covetise or fear,
Than may a picture’s richest hues delight
Eyes that with dropping rheum are thick of sight,
Or warm soft lotions soothe a gout-racked foot,
Or aching ears be charmed by twangling lute.
On minds unquiet joy has lost its power;
In a foul vessel everything turns sour.
 
[Qui cupit aut metuit, iuvat ilium sic domus et res,
Ut lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagrum,
Auriculas citbarae collecta sorde dolentes.
Sincerumst nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit
Sperne voluptate.]

Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 1, ep. 2 “To Lollius,” l. 51ff (1.2.51-54) (14 BC) [tr. Martin (1881)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/horace/82248/

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A quotation from Horace

Fortune nor home not more the man can cheer,
Who lives a prey to covetise or fear,
Than may a picture’s richest hues delight
Eyes that with dropping rheum are thick of sight,
Or warm soft lotions soothe a gout-racked foot,
Or aching ears be charmed by twangling lute.
On minds unquiet joy has lost its power;
In a foul vessel everything turns sour.
 
[Qui cupit aut metuit, iuvat ilium sic domus et res,
Ut lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagrum,
Auriculas citbarae collecta sorde dolentes.
Sincerumst nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit
Sperne voluptate.]

Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 1, ep. 2 “To Lollius,” l. 51ff (1.2.51-54) (14 BC) [tr. Martin (1881)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/horace/82248/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #horace #avarice #dissatisfaction #dysphoria #enjoyment #fear #greed #joylessness #loss #money #perspective #pleasure #property #unease #unhappiness #wealth

A quotation from Horace

Fortune nor home not more the man can cheer,
Who lives a prey to covetise or fear,
Than may a picture’s richest hues delight
Eyes that with dropping rheum are thick of sight,
Or warm soft lotions soothe a gout-racked foot,
Or aching ears be charmed by twangling lute.
On minds unquiet joy has lost its power;
In a foul vessel everything turns sour.
 
[Qui cupit aut metuit, iuvat ilium sic domus et res,
Ut lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagrum,
Auriculas citbarae collecta sorde dolentes.
Sincerumst nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit
Sperne voluptate.]

Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 1, ep. 2 “To Lollius,” l. 51ff (1.2.51-54) (14 BC) [tr. Martin (1881)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/horace/82248/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #horace #avarice #dissatisfaction #dysphoria #enjoyment #fear #greed #joylessness #loss #money #perspective #pleasure #property #unease #unhappiness #wealth

A quotation from Horace

Fortune nor home not more the man can cheer,
Who lives a prey to covetise or fear,
Than may a picture’s richest hues delight
Eyes that with dropping rheum are thick of sight,
Or warm soft lotions soothe a gout-racked foot,
Or aching ears be charmed by twangling lute.
On minds unquiet joy has lost its power;
In a foul vessel everything turns sour.
 
[Qui cupit aut metuit, iuvat ilium sic domus et res,
Ut lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagrum,
Auriculas citbarae collecta sorde dolentes.
Sincerumst nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit
Sperne voluptate.]

Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 1, ep. 2 “To Lollius,” l. 51ff (1.2.51-54) (14 BC) [tr. Martin (1881)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/horace/82248/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #horace #avarice #dissatisfaction #dysphoria #enjoyment #fear #greed #joylessness #loss #money #perspective #pleasure #property #unease #unhappiness #wealth

A quotation from Horace

Fortune nor home not more the man can cheer,
Who lives a prey to covetise or fear,
Than may a picture’s richest hues delight
Eyes that with dropping rheum are thick of sight,
Or warm soft lotions soothe a gout-racked foot,
Or aching ears be charmed by twangling lute.
On minds unquiet joy has lost its power;
In a foul vessel everything turns sour.
 
[Qui cupit aut metuit, iuvat ilium sic domus et res,
Ut lippum pictae tabulae, fomenta podagrum,
Auriculas citbarae collecta sorde dolentes.
Sincerumst nisi vas, quodcumque infundis acescit
Sperne voluptate.]

Horace (65–8 BC) Roman poet, satirist, soldier, politician [Quintus Horatius Flaccus]
Epistles [Epistularum, Letters], Book 1, ep. 2 “To Lollius,” l. 51ff (1.2.51-54) (14 BC) [tr. Martin (1881)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/horace/82248/

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A quotation from Santayana

There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval.

George Santayana (1863-1952) Spanish-American poet and philosopher [Jorge Agustín Nicolás Ruíz de Santayana y Borrás]
Essay (1916 ca.), “War Shrines,” Soliloquies in England, ch. 24 (1922)

More about this quote: wist.info/santayana-george/344…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #santayana #georgesantayana #death #enjoyment #fun #life #lifespan #mortality

Unicursal THE JOY OF LIFE Propaganda from Hermetic Library Office of the Ministry of Information https://hermetic.com/information/the-joy-of-life/index

#propaganda #joy #life #exercise #energies #ContinualGrowth #growth #ConstantChange #change #enjoyment #NewExperience #experience #stop #die

A quotation from The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh, where are you roaming?
You will never find the eternal life
that you seek. When the gods created mankind,
they also created death, and they held back
eternal life for themselves alone.
Humans are born, they live, and then they die,
this is the order that the gods have decreed.
But until the end comes, enjoy your life,
spend it in happiness, not despair.
Savor your food, make each of your days
a delight, bathe and anoint yourself,
wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean,
let music and dancing fill your house,
love the child who holds you by the hand,
and give your wife pleasure in your embrace.
That is the best way for a man to live.

Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100–1200 BC) Sumerian myth
Tablet 10, col. 3 [Siduri] [tr. Mitchell (2004)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/gilgamesh/81779/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #gilgamesh #carpediem #doom #enjoyment #goodlife #happiness #humancondition #humanity #joy #living #mortality #seizetheday #gusto

A quotation from The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh, where are you roaming?
You will never find the eternal life
that you seek. When the gods created mankind,
they also created death, and they held back
eternal life for themselves alone.
Humans are born, they live, and then they die,
this is the order that the gods have decreed.
But until the end comes, enjoy your life,
spend it in happiness, not despair.
Savor your food, make each of your days
a delight, bathe and anoint yourself,
wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean,
let music and dancing fill your house,
love the child who holds you by the hand,
and give your wife pleasure in your embrace.
That is the best way for a man to live.

Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100–1200 BC) Sumerian myth
Tablet 10, col. 3 [Siduri] [tr. Mitchell (2004)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/gilgamesh/81779/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #gilgamesh #carpediem #doom #enjoyment #goodlife #happiness #humancondition #humanity #joy #living #mortality #seizetheday #gusto

A quotation from The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh, where are you roaming?
You will never find the eternal life
that you seek. When the gods created mankind,
they also created death, and they held back
eternal life for themselves alone.
Humans are born, they live, and then they die,
this is the order that the gods have decreed.
But until the end comes, enjoy your life,
spend it in happiness, not despair.
Savor your food, make each of your days
a delight, bathe and anoint yourself,
wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean,
let music and dancing fill your house,
love the child who holds you by the hand,
and give your wife pleasure in your embrace.
That is the best way for a man to live.

Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100–1200 BC) Sumerian myth
Tablet 10, col. 3 [Siduri] [tr. Mitchell (2004)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/gilgamesh/81779/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #gilgamesh #carpediem #doom #enjoyment #goodlife #happiness #humancondition #humanity #joy #living #mortality #seizetheday #gusto

A quotation from The Epic of Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh, where are you roaming?
You will never find the eternal life
that you seek. When the gods created mankind,
they also created death, and they held back
eternal life for themselves alone.
Humans are born, they live, and then they die,
this is the order that the gods have decreed.
But until the end comes, enjoy your life,
spend it in happiness, not despair.
Savor your food, make each of your days
a delight, bathe and anoint yourself,
wear bright clothes that are sparkling clean,
let music and dancing fill your house,
love the child who holds you by the hand,
and give your wife pleasure in your embrace.
That is the best way for a man to live.

Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100–1200 BC) Sumerian myth
Tablet 10, col. 3 [Siduri] [tr. Mitchell (2004)]

More about (and translations of) this quote: wist.info/gilgamesh/81779/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #gilgamesh #carpediem #doom #enjoyment #goodlife #happiness #humancondition #humanity #joy #living #mortality #seizetheday #gusto

A quotation from C. C. Colton

A prodigal starts with ten thousand pounds, and dies worth nothing; a miser starts with nothing, and does worth ten thousand pounds. It has been asked which has had the best of it? I should presume the prodigal; he has spent a fortune — but the miser has only left one; — he has lived rich, to die poor; the miser has lived poor, to die rich; and if the prodigal quits life in debt to others, the miser quits it, still deeper in debt to himself.

Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist
Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 2, § 131 (1822)

More about this quote: wist.info/colton-charles-caleb…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #cccolton #enjoyment #avarice #debt #extravagant #greed #miser #misery #overindulgence #overspending #poverty #prodigal #profligate #selfdeprivation #skinflint #spendthrift #wastefulness #wastrel #wealth

A quotation from C. C. Colton

A prodigal starts with ten thousand pounds, and dies worth nothing; a miser starts with nothing, and does worth ten thousand pounds. It has been asked which has had the best of it? I should presume the prodigal; he has spent a fortune — but the miser has only left one; — he has lived rich, to die poor; the miser has lived poor, to die rich; and if the prodigal quits life in debt to others, the miser quits it, still deeper in debt to himself.

Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist
Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 2, § 131 (1822)

More about this quote: wist.info/colton-charles-caleb…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #cccolton #enjoyment #avarice #debt #extravagant #greed #miser #misery #overindulgence #overspending #poverty #prodigal #profligate #selfdeprivation #skinflint #spendthrift #wastefulness #wastrel #wealth

A quotation from C. C. Colton

A prodigal starts with ten thousand pounds, and dies worth nothing; a miser starts with nothing, and does worth ten thousand pounds. It has been asked which has had the best of it? I should presume the prodigal; he has spent a fortune — but the miser has only left one; — he has lived rich, to die poor; the miser has lived poor, to die rich; and if the prodigal quits life in debt to others, the miser quits it, still deeper in debt to himself.

Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist
Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 2, § 131 (1822)

More about this quote: wist.info/colton-charles-caleb…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #cccolton #enjoyment #avarice #debt #extravagant #greed #miser #misery #overindulgence #overspending #poverty #prodigal #profligate #selfdeprivation #skinflint #spendthrift #wastefulness #wastrel #wealth

A quotation from C. C. Colton

A prodigal starts with ten thousand pounds, and dies worth nothing; a miser starts with nothing, and does worth ten thousand pounds. It has been asked which has had the best of it? I should presume the prodigal; he has spent a fortune — but the miser has only left one; — he has lived rich, to die poor; the miser has lived poor, to die rich; and if the prodigal quits life in debt to others, the miser quits it, still deeper in debt to himself.

Charles Caleb "C. C." Colton (1780-1832) English cleric, writer, aphorist
Lacon: Or, Many Things in Few Words, Vol. 2, § 131 (1822)

More about this quote: wist.info/colton-charles-caleb…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #cccolton #enjoyment #avarice #debt #extravagant #greed #miser #misery #overindulgence #overspending #poverty #prodigal #profligate #selfdeprivation #skinflint #spendthrift #wastefulness #wastrel #wealth

A quotation from Samuel Johnson

The evils inseparably annexed to the present condition of man, are so numerous and afflictive, that it has been, from age to age, the task of some to bewail, and of others to solace them; and he, therefore, will be in danger of seeing a common enemy, who shall attempt to depreciate the few pleasures and felicities which nature has allowed us.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
Essay (1753-11-27), The Adventurer, No. 111

More about this quote: wist.info/johnson-samuel/80774…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #samueljohnson #affliction #buzzkill #enjoyment #evils #happiness #humancondition #moralist #partypooper #partying #pleasure #Puritan #relief #scold #strictness #suffering #fun

A quotation from Samuel Johnson

The evils inseparably annexed to the present condition of man, are so numerous and afflictive, that it has been, from age to age, the task of some to bewail, and of others to solace them; and he, therefore, will be in danger of seeing a common enemy, who shall attempt to depreciate the few pleasures and felicities which nature has allowed us.

Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) English writer, lexicographer, critic
Essay (1753-11-27), The Adventurer, No. 111

More about this quote: wist.info/johnson-samuel/80774…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #samueljohnson #affliction #buzzkill #enjoyment #evils #happiness #humancondition #moralist #partypooper #partying #pleasure #Puritan #relief #scold #strictness #suffering #fun