hesitant aranta



depicted

[foto de ºCHiViSº--flickr]

incoming
Nicomachean Ethics//Aristotle
Eudemian Ethics//Aristotle
Poetics//Aristotle
De Anima//Aristotle
Cause, Necessity and Blame//Richard Sorabji
The Fragility of Goodness//Martha C. Nussbaum
Essays on Aristotle's Ethics//Amelie Rorty (editor)
Aristotle's Theory of Action//David Charles
Aristotle on Moral Responsibility//Susan S. Meyer
The Fabric of Character//Nancy Sherman
Choosing Character//Jonathan Jacobs
Aristotle's Psychology//Daniel N. Robinson

Volta//Björk
Medùlla//Björk
Vespertine//Björk
Vespertine Live at the Royal Opera House//Björk

Carbon Monoxide//Marlboro Reds
caffeine in not so large ammounts

a whole lotta love

secondary bibliography

overt influences
straying

[...]
Wie ich mechanisch eine neue Zigarrette drehe und die braunen Stäubchen mit feinem Prickeln auf das weißgelbe Löschpapier der Schreibmappe niedertaumeln, will es mir unwarscheinlich werden, daß ich noch wache. Und wie die feuchtwarme Abendluft, die durch das offene Fenster neben mir hereingeht, die Rauchwölkchen so seltsam formt und aus dem Bereich der grünbeschirmten Lampe ins Mattschwarze trägt, steht es mir fest, daß ich schon träume.
Da wird's natürlich schon ganz arg; denn diese Meinung wirft der Phantasie die Zügel auf den Rücken. Hinter mir knackt heimlich neckend die Stuhllehne, daß es mir jäh wie hastiger Schauder durch alle Nerven fährt. Das stört mich ärgerlich in meinem tiefsinnigen Studium der Bizarren Rauchschriftzeichen, die im mich irren, und über die einen Leitfaden zu ferfassen ich bereits entschlossen war.
Aber nun ist die Ruhe zum Teufel. Tolle Bewegung in allen Sinnen. Fiebrisch, nervös, wahnsinnig. Jeder Laut keift. Und mit all dem verwirrt steigt Vergessenes auf. Einst dem Sehsinn Eingeprägtes, das sich seltsam erneut; mit dem Fühlen dazu von damals. [...] Vision. Proza-Skizze//Thomas Mann.


past utterances
08.03
09.03
10.03
11.03
12.03
01.04
02.04
03.04
04.04
05.04
06.04
07.04
08.04
10.04
11.04
12.04
01.05
02.05
03.05
04.05
05.05
06.05
07.05
08.05
09.05
10.05
11.05
01.06
02.06
04.06
05.06
06.06
07.06
10.06
11.06
12.06
01.07
02.07
03.07
04.07
05.07
06.07
07.07
08.07
09.07
10.07
11.07
12.07
01.08
05.08


30.12.03
"they're nothing but worms with wings"

" I'm always here I'm never there, I'm never ever anywhere, because I'm here, and here is where I am... and when I move from here to there, my here moves with me everywhere, and so I'm here, 'cause here is where I'm in" i wonder what it is like to have the entire spectrum of a single thing, i would like knowing something for what it is and not for what it is to me. but i cannot do such things for i am a mere part of this strange liquefied reality, i am very much diluted in it, i may be no more than what is "known" through these eyes, and if that is to be, then i cannot blend into reality even if i am only liquid, so i cannot know anymore than what is given to me through my very defective apparatus of perception. i hope one day i can face myself in the mirror and not have any pain for being less that what the one with whom i struggle seems to be. i've thought that not recognizing myself in the mirror is some kind of pathological aversion towards the idea of being like someone -even when that someone is myself-, but then i realized that i seem to find myself represented in things different from a mirror. strange things happen to me... the need to continue reading what i had read once before is enormous. as if it were some addictive combination of characters, my eyes cannot escape the lines and graphs of such a story. i know i am here, wasting myself whilst others are striving on the numerous pleasures of life, whilst others are living grandly and getting acquainted with more things that i can think of; i know for a fact i am here stumbling through my own bittersweet flow of un-conscience, that i am here facing what was taken from me by the hand of some other who had the luck to put it into words. what i don't know i somehow cannot care for, and it is too much of life, too much of myself, too much of those whose kind words often make me think that there is not much that i should care for. but i don't know and maybe i cannot begin to do so, for i am too small and too apprehensive. still, i am compelled to become more of what i am trying to get away from trough the reading of that which represents the traitorous path of my pathological inertia; my raging instincts tell me that blood is what should drive me, but the consideration of what has been, and the innumerable pages written over that tell me that blood is not to be my way anymore. no true satisfaction is to come from this reading anymore, no lessons, no commitments, no more unveiled truths are to be found: no more recognition of my helplessness in the lines that taunt me, no more "me" in what i did not do.

 


27.12.03

i sit. before the gleaming light of the screen i find myself astonished by the automated movement of my fingers; i watch as all my fingertips move according to a rhythm i cannot listen to while the little white squares with engraved symbols dance so gracefully under them. i sit, i look, the screen is to bright, my sore eyes can't stand such light; i stand move, shake my head and stretch my back... mmmhhh the sound of the muscles cracking, almost frightening, almost addictive becomes the theme song of this parallel time zone in which all of us are left to rest from work and life. i can feel the blood running down my legs, to my toes, to my knees again, to my heart... warm, thick, noisy;again the muscles, again my neck, again my ears... beeeeeeeeep i should sit. i sit, i look at the screen again: blank, a little black line in her intermittent existence defies me, i must write, i must begin, i must continue. There is not much to write about, maybe my blood, my neck, my ears, this light, the sound of the keyboard under the fingers i cannot longer control. maybe about rage as a product of falsity in those who write and dare not say their names, maybe about him, and her, and all of us, maybe about nothing at all: but this is not possible, the little line on the bright screen blinds me and binds me to my chair, so i sit and i hear and i mourn and yearn more than simplistic, mechanic movement of my hands. so i sit, rub my eyes and listen. i sit.

 


24.12.03

Q: zzzzzz I love Garamond

 


17.12.03

as of today i can almost consistently say that i am free of... (too bad i'm not even close to being free to...). as many of those in the "blogging" community, i am about to proceed to list, enumerate, expose, show, tell about ten songs randomly picked by mister Media Player. 1. all is full of love. -Björk. beautiful song, one of myfavoritee videos. i like it when there are lots of "takes" of the voice in a song... björk is, to say the least, magnificent. 2. love her madly. -The Doors. one of those classibittersweetet songs, lots of "pep" in rhythm, and very sad lyrics... "so sing lonelyey song". i used to think that doors' music was kind of monotonous, now i have a different opinion -about many other things as well- 3. say what you want. -Texas. i love it when people breathe on the microphone..it describes a lot of my current state "and when i get that feeling i cannot longer run" 4. pollyanna flower. -Alanis Morissette. one of my prized rarities, it isundoubtedlyly mfavoritete song so far, i've never heard such strength in a song that is not driven torward 'heavy rock'. perfect lyrics, amazing music beautiful voice. "what am i to do with all this fire?" 5Zoom. -Soda Stereo. Cerati es un maestro y esta canción es la cosa más sensual que he oido en mucho tiempo. "entre tus labios de plata y mi acero inolvidable quiero un loop protagonico, pruebame y verás que todos somos adictos a estos fuegos de artificio" 6. pure morning -Placebo. "a friend in need is a friend indeed, my japanese is better" i'm usually not very drivedistortednated guitar sounds, but this song manages to be captivating. very good video. 7. Oops. -Björk+808 state."I'll come over and pour myself over you". weird, weird, but good, i like weird stuff. 8. My iron lung. -Radiohead. mmmhhhh..... amazing :) 9. Summer Romance (anti-gravity love song)-Incubus. a little funk to make my day a bit happier. this guy's voice is really something in this song, i don't know why it's so different in others... 10. Osmosis.-Liquid Tension Experiment. it sounds very much like what one would call "instrumental ambient", the rarest thing i know by this 'progressive rock' band.... but, you have to hear this, it is absolutely indescribable, i love it! There it is, my 10 random songs, not all of them are favs, but chance is a higher power than will.

 


15.12.03

i am stunned. there is not much i can say about the current state of affairs in which i seem to be involved, there are not enough words in my ever so limited vocabulary for me to express myself, there is no apparently necessary or sufficient cause for my writing this, but there's something telling me that there is more to this life than what is merely product of my senseless cavilations, there is more than what i can say, more than what i can consciously feel, more that what i admit to lack. i am stunned because some things have the faculty of making me think that not all in my life is worth knowing by memory, but worth knowing by heart. "pero todo lo excelso es tan difí­cil como raro" :).

 


7.12.03

i find myself wasting time on this blog. i find that there is no reason to feel that there is some degree of dependence toward it, that there is something in it in which i find comfort; i think there is always too much to do and too little time and i am here, plastering myself on the internet instead of actually doing anything. i find that there is no sense in my repentance, no value in the guilt i feel for wasting my time, and still, i can't get over the feeling that there are things which are more important at this time than my being with myself in this binary coded journal. I should be writing about how Gödel's theorem cannot lead to think anything about the workings of the human mind, or how it is somehow true that there are no strict laws that connect mental events with physical events, or writing about how funtionalist theories lack the power to convince me that there is no possibility to reduce the mental to the neurological, or to try and understand the axiomatic scheme of ZF, or to finish Spinoza's Ethic, or to study japanese, or eat, sleep, draw, play my forgotten clarinet, or so many other things that seem to be at least more productive than this monologuing. i need to rest but there's no time, this semester will NEVER be over in time... "i want to be big and let go".... ahhh, so many compromising assertions have been made here, so many chances to prove myself wrong are being wasted by the second... ahhh.... my brain is gone.... "where is my mind?"

 


3.12.03

i've found that many of the things that i am profoundly convinced about - some opinions about the way life is heading appear to be convictions very deeply founded-, are things that have a recurrent appearance in my life. though they may not be numerous, they are certainly very strong, appealing, seductive... they are mine as nothing else could ever be. and that is sometimes quite frightening for i never know when i will be moved to such a point where i can no longer be in control of the segregations of my eyes, it's frightening because it's becoming more of a habit than a surprising stumble upon reality. this last month has been really difficult in that respect, i am constantly being overwhelmed by the presence of such things brought forth by strange individuals in situations often thought of as normal; but there is no such thing as normality when one is facing down, there is no sense of "usual happenings" when there is not enough time to realize that this is the only path that i am able to take right now: i'm scared to tears because i know not whether i am in the right place - or in the appropriate disposition to understand my being in this place- or i am just looking for an excuse to keep myself away from what is really the object of my attention. i'm scared, tired, confused... i'm going in circles again, i've gone through this since before graduating, but the things i know i like to think are perpetuating the idea of misplacement. i'm hoping this semester will come to an end soon enough.

 


1.12.03

why is it that i'm always worried about time.....?