What is "Will 2 Power?" as such?
As another mired, sickly philosophe, socratic aristotelian or even born again nietzschian on the horizon in the next ontology of judeo-christian empiricists who reject mysticism in favor of what science proves;
I have to ask, misguided or not,
What is historical facticity - proximally and for the most part?
Historical facticity is the lack - alack alack a lack and a kingdom for a hoarse cryptic whisper - of a transparency regarding vacuity resulting from how the master dictates rights to the slave class.
Why do we punish those who lose in war games played by those in high places, under the sway of foreign diplomacy? Should we not congratulate the vanquished?
Should we embolden or decry our own righteousness in the face of an 'other'?
Is that not Dostoyevskian decadence?
The Nuremberg trials, what executed good Aryian sometimes WASP (white anglo saxon protestant) military leaders for the sake of which we can proclaim having done justice by hanging those who merely served their country in times of aggression during wartime, is often at a long distance and far off epoch that seems nearer to us than a mount, they were right there in the horizon of the new Continental authors of the Existentialist School~
Is that not the Catholic eastern orthodoxy's own utmost failing?
H.S.T. once wrote a tractatus which spoke, high as could be, that when phenomenologically viewing a great epoch or mountainous summit in the horizon - it oft' looks clear as day to our phenomenal apprehension of apparent worldliness... Yet when you view -say - the summit and epoch/peaks of Everest or, yea- even Killamanjaro, it's so visible, one could lose sight of the long journey to even get to the top before the rest of those adventurers out for to conquer what they prize so magnormously, let alone a terra firmer clear as day visible and reducible eidetically yet days, months, years away by foot?
Anywhere worth travelling to is worth walking on foot, yet...
So close,
but still so far,
Is this existential apprehension in conquest a passion play with real blud that we see today in interboundaries of national survival, mayhaps?
I do not know the a priori or a posteori truths about such conquests as it relates to a hike, a climb or the first expedition to conquer these peaks of excellence in expeditionary endeavors, or even just generally acknowledging the prescient & salient pain and frost bite of such tragic farcical follies of conquest as such...
but it would seem that - as it is with WW3 etc. - we see it so clearly, yet the span of time, national wealth or lack thereof and expenditure therein, walking on foot the sheer tremendous flight into the heavens brought to blud 4 soil often times is grim, far often aways away. Truly!
Should we be men and districts of folly in out and around proximally & for the most part accepting and be found acceptable to a republic's endeavors? What is a nation's virtue and conquest to a poor man? A poor man, such as myself has no use for virtue, or expeditionary conquest! These trifles are far removed from the everyday agrarian peasant as such.
I'd say not a single leader in our whole global soul-structure and reason facility could adequately prepare us for the conflicts and stamina in a resolute call to violence and have the foresight needed to bring about international or even domestic/local justice...
...for Hercules need not remain as a pugilist at rest...
There's no need for silence, as I see it!
We aught not forget that masters demand slaves...
Even in the antebellum southern bible belt of the USA (the shield of the Mason-Dixon as such),
the relationship of master and slave in that era of Historical Facticity is described simply in the term "paternalism"...
Where the servants found an affection for their masters and property owners,
and the masters felt a kind of truly real - yet oft' grotesque - love for their indentured slaves, as one plantation, as one codependency, as many paternalistic central plantation owners. How, in terms of futural/historical necessity are coping mechanisms and agrarian farming to be apprehended in terms of our own empathy towards a 'situation', concernfully, circumspective; or even in a passionate Faith of the master's governance?
Let us march.
Let us triumph in the war.
Let us forfeit our will to power,
for a more prudent,
responsible,
and honest will to victory in truth...
Pravda vitezi.
Fate will smile upon the godly proto-virtue of those with a keen sense of righteous anger towards want of justice! Are we to listen, longing for nostalgia, to another 'ode to joy'?
Why, are we as a peoples in a worldly sense, so joyous in murder, so self affirmingly entitled to what is justified in non-civilian wartime military verstehen (understanding) as a "righteous kill"?
I'd say it comes down to the congruency of master/slave, kill/save, conquer/surrender primordial dichotomy within which we come to the one 'notes from underground' moment of Caruso's first triumph to excellence as an Italian Minnesinger in early historical America!
Not just my kitten.
or an Italian opera vocalist...
not a ballet,
but a skating by... elegantly & triumphantly or conversely committing shameful repentance when one falls on ice -as that 15 year old ruskie figure skater did... I prayed for that poor girl,
and what mother Russia - a post Soviet fascism & uniquely Eastern Orthodoxy's Popery - would do to a shamed loss of grace?
Is power,
and the will to have power over others,
really even necessary?
The wheat harvest will be fine,
what is irreconcilable,
are the sins Hector committed tossing dags on the pyre and Achilles' hubris and his weak acls having battled violently over in the Trojan war committed in the ancient Grecian era,
who were want to drag an enemy's body around the public of athens (opposite day/eve bizarro USA),
going round and round the Parthenon, mutilating their adversary's corpse in the eve/morn/noontime of history and the publik...
thus spiting the Gods of Osiris!
That was the art carnal sin of warrior societies.
As Hector died, Achilles put on the pyre the historicity therein regarding a hermeneutical flame thereof hermetically sealed within our own finality within-the-world, that is, death...
fate will smile
I have an old pussy...
His name is Caruso, named after the first mass produced pop star in USA. Ain't hatin on Shostakvich, but this Italian Minesinger who I named my old ass pussy after, is superior in terms of anthems outdoing post-wagner trash heaps of almost listenable non-anthemic classical/opera instrumentation and vocaLismos... Enrico Caruso's early fame as the first mass produced vinyl rockstar shall go down in herstory as the truly troubadour sound. Call his vinyl releases pedestrian, call americans of that time common and base, call me an unapoligetic Heideggerian who feels that even the ones who lose a battle or war have/had and are granted some type of rights as such,
Enrico Caruso,
and my pussy named after him,
brought opera - however incomprehensible - to the jungle...
and it is jungle, survival, and how truly evil nature as such can be without the nostalgia of the hippie plot as such that I seek to address this early rising staR of the morning, the eastern light - what some term sheitan (or the star of the morning), can offer an international democracy as such...I say to you, whomever be out there heeding my speed and righteous wit & writ,
Who will burn with everlasting torments in H-E-L-L?
Whom shall feed the rotten dags of cerberus?
Fear not russian & chinese spies and monarchical oligarchies - who after they have enslaved, imprisoned and murdered you or I - have no more that they can do in the worldhood of dying, suffering and painful death at the hands of an emperor or prime minister...
I say to you...
FEAR HIM
WHO AFTER HE HAS KILLED HAS POWER TO CAST INTO HELL,
I SAY TO YOU...
FEAR JESUS!
AND HIS RISEN RESSURECTION...
I say to you...
fear HIM~
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