Nothing. To. Say. Just want attention. Here’s a picture of me hacking off my hips:
They were too big anyway. Anyone reaching an age where they need their hips removed do please get in touch.
My original image was a bit dyslexic – not hip removal, but removal at hip:
Subtleties of difference.
A lot of people like to get their photo done to show of their new hair-cut, and some even get their hair cut in specific anticipation of a photograph.
Some even cut it themselves. Either way, this is a mistake, it looks unnatural. When people subsequently meet you, they will say, His hair is not quite the same. He looked quite friendly in the photograph, but when we me him he was dour and dishevelled. He had a slight smell which we discussed at length but couldn’t place. We had expected him to smell of freshly cut hair, but in the event were to be disappointed.
There he is again.
He says the world is his idea. Then he says the world is his will. What he means is almost the exact opposite. From without we can never arrive at the real nature of things. However much we investigate, we can never reach anything but images and names. We are like a man who goes round a castle, in vain seeking an entrance, and sometimes sketching the external walls. And yet, he says, this is the path taken by all philosophers before me.
Shut up. Just… shut it you little… oh, when I get my hands on you. No, not Tiny Tim. You probably saw him in later life looking like a prototypical Einstein. Is it Hegel? No, it’s not fucking Hegel. It’s Hegel’s worst nightmare. His nemesis. No, not the Sayyid Qutb of communism. You think you’re clever? Unlikely. You might as well give up.
And now you’re making that face again. Here – young and cheerless. Later – curmudgeonly and unforgiving. Human life, like all inferior goods, is (he says) covered on the outside with a false glitter.