Da saßen zwei Raben hoch oben auf einem Ast. Der eine drehte sich um und sah eine Gestalt die ihn betrachtete. "Schau an," sagte er zu seinem Artgenossen, "diese Gestalt da schaut uns an."
"Nein," sagte der andere, "da guck ich nicht zurück! Diese Gestalten sind voller Unglück! Neugierig packen sie dich und studieren dich. Ob sie dich essen können? Warum du bist? Alles wissen wollen sie über dich!"
So weilten die Raben, ob sie schauten oder nicht, immer auf den Ästen oder weit aussen im Feld. Nähern würden sie sich andern eingenartigen Tieren nicht. Vielleicht um zu zweit den Rotmilan in den Lüften zu schickanieren seiner Beute wegen. Sonst immer schön mit Abstand. Wer will schon von einer Kuh zertrammt werden oder von Hühnern in Stücke gehackt?
Der gnädige Lebensgeist hat ja gut dafür gesrogt, dasss jeder findet einen Zufluchtsort.
Philosophy is the Art of Perception on the nexus of existence where phenomena inter-are. We are blessed. The sacrifices of our forebears are not in vain. We are growing and learning to embrace the opportunities we have today thanks to their tenacious efforts and shared wisdom. Most importantly, thanks to the love despite it all! Nexistentialism embraces human nature because art doesn't make itself. Nexistentialism is performative philosophy on a quotidian world stage.
Dienstag, 15. Oktober 2013
Lesson of the river
Reull Vallis River on Mars |
There is no distinction to the river between species.
It just flows.
What is memory to the river?
Will it remember that particular whirlpool under the bridge?
Oh, there is many a whirlpool!
Will it remember that particular fish?
Oh, the fish are many!
Will it remember that particular bed of rocks?
Oh, rocks are many! So many a rock!
It makes no difference to the river.
Its conclusion is the ocean, its background the ice.
Its course of action is winding movement...
so long there shall be water...
Then what is its inspiration?
For if you think of a river bed in a dry desert landscape,
like a foot print of where a river once made its bed.
What memories has it left of all the creatures in its belly,
all the life dancing around it, the feasts of rain from above?
Is it still river, that rocky roundness below?
Is it still what it once was made of?
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