Recently, I have been constantly muttering to myself about the state of our banking systems, our economies and its long lasting effects on generations to come. I sit here in disbelief, aghast at what has happened. My question is, should we have left the finance houses to their own devices and if so what would have been the affects of this after they had declared bankruptcy? No-one has been left immune, save for a few economies scattered around the world. Our governments have now ploughed ...
We suffer, and openly engage in the suffering, of potentialities. We further find that to do so evokes an awareness of that which is necrotic in our willed , and willing essence; which is to say, that which subsumes the ignoble characteristcs that our respective Lines have infused. Whilst the 'operation' is a delicate proceedure, to be sure, we find ourselves with very little concern of that which is delicate. Almost as if the best within us, being the best, commands, "Tear it out! - so what ...
...To what, to whom, do I owe my capacity for suffering? To what, and to whom, do any of us - the Order of the 'Other'? For that is what, indeed, we are: 'we' fit no mould; 'we' understand no Absolute; and - what is more - 'we' find a vainglorious ring to the sound of the trumpets of "modernity"... what have we to do with the modern? - as recognisers of the Retrogression of the type 'Man'? We owe no umbrage, nor do we owe a genuflection to what is occurring during the times ...
Updated 03-22-2009 at 04:56 AM by Aemma (a spelling oopsie in the title :))
Were you still alive, Dad, you would've turned 74 today. Although nine years has passed since you went away, I still miss you - some years seem to be more painful than others for reasons I can't explain. I wish to write this tribute for you today, Dad. I remember, first of all, how you were born in Malta (from what you told me of course), the second oldest son and third oldest child. You were born just before WW2, and you endured the blitzes which would've felt never-endingly horrendous! ...
"...A lull came. A subtle hush in the dynamic. The undulations of my ire grew to the precipice of rage – which I knew he had the power to snap into fury. He seemed calmer than ever. The why’s and where’s of his clam were imponderable – and frightening. But why would I be frightened? What was ‘fright’ to me at this juncture? As fright is a foreign notion to me now, it was not then…Indeed, it, and my own choler seemed much the same thing, in no way exclusive of one another. And there 'the People' ...
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