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THIS INTERVIEW IS STUPID AND LAME.

http://www.theartnewspaper.com/articles/Robert-Storr-Most-theory-has-little-bearing-on-art/19605

I found the "what do you tell your students" part of this interview pretty stupid and standard marketing twaddle coming from a tenured academic (can you really in good conscience recommend or imply art as a viable profession for most peopel now in grad school (even Yale?)).

While it might prove comforting to identify oneself as an artist, or a theoretician, the mechanics of those supposedly oppositional (marxism: false dichotomy) straw dogs sounds more like grist for a marketing mill than a serious debate about the underlying structure or the ontology of the art system.

With the push for Doctorates in Studio art this conversation seems like a false flag event to create the need for doctorate programs everywhere (certainly there is no such need).

I find such terms as structuralism and post structuralism functionally exclusionary and incomplete (wittgenstein's language drift) as well as lazy shorthand signifying academicism and nothing else.

For shame.

By mendicant

Lookin'at the finger that points to the moon, one will miss all that marvelous splendor...

Art theory is merely an intellectual tool for retrospective discourse and technicality that cannot create any art by itself. Meanwhile it makes it easy to loose oneself in the quagmire of institutional structurating mental conditioning, that's the hallmark of corporate thinkin'in styles and genres that ultimately will only get one more and more estranged from one's own originality and the will to speak in sincerity.

Thinking processes are not exactly the same like feelings. When feelings come primary, thinking will only obstruct energy. However, feelings can be put into words and syntax in retrospect, so as these may serve as particular mental switches that may or not be capable to elicit certain feelings worthy of exploring. In short: if there's no poetry to be found in it, art it ain't.

By owhereman

Hmmm . . . I just read this Storr windows interview.

I usually avoid all contact with such articles and individuals. I find that the less one has to do with what usually turns out to be a gab fest of mumbo jumbo spoon feeding propaganda disguised as informed artspeak the better off one’s art is, and unfortunately I didn’t find anything in the finely tuned recruiting professors finger painted responses that changed my feelings about such tossers.

The Yale-lock yokels obvious incitation for young people to “hideout” by running to their local inscription boards to sign up for art schools like they might have for a ferry leaving for the Yukon on a gold hunting adventure a century ago, because as the well snouted professor points out, that is where the money is, is the kind of rubber headed robber rubbish one might expect from those who have become totally submissive and institutionalized.

And to become what we might ask?

Stem cell near perfect art clone reproductions of previous successes with the necessary minor variations.

Why?

In order to insure the firmest gripe possible on the creative imaginations of any given generation.

I’ve nothing against feeling. Without feeling there is no art. But feeling is no more primary than thought. In order for something to be art both reason and emotion need to be present and neither is preeminent because they form a whole. There is no more validly in beginning a work with a convulsive approach than there is in beginning one with a reasoned thought. It is the poetic metamorphosis from thought to feeling, or from feeling to thought during the creative process that constitutes the work and makes it art not the feelings or the thought in and of themselves. Of course this implies and demands something more in the way of reflection than simply opening the car door and vomiting on the pavement with proclamation.

By clepsydra

You sound so very deeply impressed...no need to! Thank ye!

PS: An artist listenin' to an art theorist instructin' him how to do his art, will soon in rage kick the yappin'monkey out of his studio.

By owhereman

Impressed....brother this jackass doesn't know how to read either.

Taking the piss out of your inspid duality again. You really don't know what the fuck you're jabbering on about which is why you just jabber on and if the examples I've already seen of your "artistic" efforts are anything to go by you're nothing more than a paper guzzler mate.

Now go spend a couple of years sorting out a real painting and then get back to me with something other than your drivel.

By clepsydra

Chuckle yuk, brother, I see no reason but an inferiority complex why you would wanna call yerself "a jackass that cannot read". In fact, a moment before, you started quite finely with your theorizing.

Aside of this point, I accept you seemingly affectionately adressing me as your "brother".

Listen here brotherly friend, I must dearly warn you that with all these explosions of infantile aggression so seemingly borne out of sheer frustration, as when in some people's petty limited mind seems not to be capable to resolve certain issues as do this mature gentleman undersigned, you really should watch out for a coming brain stroke.

Dear cousin, it's quite obvious that you haven't any inkling whatsoever about the meaning of cynism and irony, the feckin'dull dimwit tha'ye so gullibly do represent.

Me good son, judging your own "artistic" efforts, I cannot say I'm all too impressed and I do mean this!

Little one, in case you're alluding to a painting challenge, brother, I'll slap you flat on yer mudface!

I hereby formally inform you that I'm quite an accomplished painter on any day of the week and holidays.

I'm capable to implement at will ALMOST anything that I set me mind onto. Among these, kickin' ye in the butt extremely hard is one of me easiest routines.

By owhereman

This debate started off just fine until that stupid silly arse started up again; It is obviously impossible for him to consider any academic argument without featuring some aspect of his insecurity. I'll bet he was a right cunt at school, always bragging if he got one more than anybody else in a test. Never had any friends and unable to relax with thought... a last word twat.
Anyway, good post M. and a good value reply C.

Breeze

By Breeze

Yeah right,

blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .

yada . . . yada . . . yada . . .

More ego grandstanding with nothing to back it up.

You’re all over the place shelf stacker.

The next time I have a crack in one of my basement walls I’ll have the boys bring you over to use as filler…

Try putting your mind to this:

Write something in English that doesn’t sound like it was garbled by a reptile and shat out by an ape.

Sweet and sour Jesus; if they put your language, reflection, and artistic skills in a capsule and sent them out into space, and some hapless scatter brained retard discovered them, it would know for sure it had a moron on its hands.

Irony:

Did you get fired from your job at the Chinese laundry?

Cynicism:

You’re not cynical mate. You sit in the same place all day and yelp. You don’t even holler at the moon. You haven’t had an original thing to say in this forum for years. You’re such a friggin’ drone that everyone split and left except a couple of people who care about something other than your inane condemnations of everything including the fucking rain because I’m sure when you get wet you have the impression that the sky is pissing on you. You’re just lame mate. You can’t put up a real link to work because you’re scared shitless that we’ll all barf laughing.

Me, I was gone for months. Came back for a visit and found you pounding your meat.

By the way did you sell any work this year?

Can you really justify those “artistic” tax deductions you’re takin’?

Probably not . . . just another bottom scrapper feeding off the system.

Fucking artist right; fucking artist my ass!

I’ve got one foot on the left bank
I’ve got one foot on the right bank
I’ve got the third foot up the backside of imbeciles.

Jacques Prevert

By clepsydra

Goodly on the morrow everyone,Well its great to see O writing in anglais, thankyou O, me ol eyes were getting a bit sore as to your scots talk, indeed dare I say very clever but I prefer anglais, and what great banter from all four of you, a bit like old times, you know calling one another all the naughty words under the sun. As for me as a retired painter, or a no-mark, well my work needs no thought process at all, I let me iron do the imagery, there is no reason either to my work, it just flows, and when an image seems right to me then I just stop, and then thought, and reason commence.Love you all. !!!

By santana

Hello Sant, so good to hear from you!
I'm happy that you're happy too, having obliged to your request for the Anglais.
Sant, we all know tha' y'are a wise man, you always have been gifted with this quality that seems to be blatantly missing in some posters here.
Sant, appreciate you for your talent of mending of what seems so definitely broken.

Also I'd like to expand my greetings and wellwishing to mister Mendez. Mister Mendez, although not quite befittingly, I feel to also add my apologies for the mess in which your thread seem to have landed in.

As you can see, I merely responded in fairness to you, wrote down to you SINGULARLY AND ON A ONE-TO-ONE BASIS (!) me good thoughts in response to the issue of art theory that you presented on this free forum.
Such was and is my sincere intent to you, who does remind me somehow of a good comrade.

Alas, gentlemen, as we can see such now are the misdoings of certain intolerant characters who feel as to have sickly morbidly comment on everything that gentlemen wud wanna interchange, such as we know them misfigured quasimodo's by their moronic names, thoughts, feelings, their boring and unwelcome interruptions and vile acts.

Gentlemen, i.e. mister Sant and Mendez, oi wud loike ter politely request from you a bit of good patience. For it could get rather bloody and messy in here. Why?

For I have the premonitory feel that urges me to fairly proclaim on beforehand that there may suddenly arise the malfortunous case on the rather short term, in which I will calamitously choose to lash out fiercely and firmly scrub a certain Clepsydra and Breeze their dammit ears c.q. antennae off, or whatever if any, part of their putrified entymologous bodies, in case their ears have already gone missing, be it from battle or be it due to seasonal autumnal denudification.

By owhereman

Quite busy in exercising true effort to keep my patience, still I'd like to make this pre-emptive remark.

Although reputed brothers in trolling, still I cannot accept that Clepsydra slags Breeze off so crudely. We know that the character Breeze eagerly likes to be the judas... always peekin' around the corner when he hears rumours of a fight, attempting to pickpocket anyone or hiddeously stab a knife in an unwary back.
As we know it's merely the usual Breeze licking a clepsydra's pubis, still I have to object to the crude and rude answer the former rather deservedly receives for the lackie services of slime that he rendered: (quote) (hic) (sic)

(clepsydra responding to breeze's slimin'):
"Yeah right, you moron!
You blah blahblahyadayadayada babba as always!
More ego grandstanding from your breezie farting cummin'from Farthing and not worth a pennie nor a farthing, with nothing to back it of himself up. You’re all over the place, shell company of shelf stacker!..."

(end quote)

Alas, hear these bitter words so coarsely uttered in the blindness of unreasoning rage! We know that their provenance highly assumedly must be sought in the misfortunate circumstances of an acute crisis de-employment from an extremely low paid job at a laundering company and it's obviously there's still a lot of shaking in the knees and ankles aside of the tremor in their lips above and below.
But above all, still we may know these malproducts by the rotten stench that they exude.

By owhereman

Thought is feeling.
There is no feeling without thought.
You may think that you’re moving without thought but you are not.
Movement requires thought.
Without thought your body would cease functioning.
Everything is inextricably linked.
The fact that you don’t recognize this doesn’t mean its not happening.
Thought can be loud.
Thought can be bellicose
Thought can be silent
Thought can be subtle.
Thought can be relative.
Thought can be timeless.
Thought can be everything.
Thought can be nothing.
Thought can be everything and nothing.
Trance states even the deepest are connected to thought.
Transcendence requires thought.
When there is no more thought you die and something else is born.
Transformation requires thought.
Acts of realization require thought.
Subjectivity is thought.
Objectivity is thought.
An artist works with thought.
An artist works through thought.
The universe is a network of thought.
Chaos and order are thought.

Some people believe that wisdom lives in a vacuum of violence, anger and fear. The fear they project is their own lack of courage to confront reality. Their dishonesty manifests itself constantly through negative thought patterns. They lie and puff themselves up like party balloons. This is the facade they live behind. This façade is shallow and void of meaning. And like the balloons the facade will eventually burst. This is the law of karma. People who live behind these facades believe their own lies. They believe their own protestations. They believe their own boasting to be of consequence. These are not brave people but they have the right to go on living in their illusion and to exist in a state of virtual samsara.

I have a rendezvous with Mr. Velasquez in Madrid. Enjoy you’re party but don’t forget to invite Peter Sellers.

By clepsydra

Hear the feckin'jabberwockey:
"Thought is feeling...There is no feeling without thought..."

What utter nonsense à la wookie. Allow this explanation: There's only energy that moves and thus transforms into either thought and feeling.

Maintaining that the two thinking and feeling as quite one and the same thing, would be similar as negating the physical nature of the energetic transformation processes.

For example, the electric current input into a tellie properly transformed, may produce either sound, image, or both, or nothing at all. The latter condition probably your case.
So it's clearly stupidly asinine and dumb to maintain that you can hear that what is showed on a telliescreen and that you can see that what comes out of the speakers. However, considered your bat-like provenance, it's quite understandable.
In your particular case seeing and hearing seems to be believing...

Please don't come accusing for having utilized merely a simple model for illustration,
I could easily present lucid examples playing on subparticle level.
But for now that's all that I can expect that you're capable off to get in yer skull in one nightshift, Dracula!

And so proper mincemeat can be made of all your alternate propositions stated in yer pseudo-poem, mukker!

For instance: "You may think that you’re moving without thought but you are not...."
Wot utter blaghblagh! Ye clearly demonstrate a case of idiotic amarautic delusion. Why?
For it clearly fails to be aware that we are the ones who are moving...
Believe it or not, this conceptual fact of the nature of perception of energy is already known for quite a few thousand years.

But wait: there's more, here comes the medical quack peeking around the corner! "Movement requires thought....Without thought your body would cease functioning....Everything is inextricably linked..."
So, me good doctor Quock, according to you: coma means thinking, well, well yer nickname surely must be doctor Oilliver Secks...

I'm not finished with ye, but I'll stop to leave ye wriggling in the agony of oncoming certain defeat. I may sound cruel, but you deserve the most, I fear.

"The fact that you don’t recognize this doesn’t mean its not happening....
Haha, haaaah....haaah...chuckle, chuckle....don't forget to blush and get alternately hot and cold all over, buddie.

Going to visit mister Velazquez?
Hate to disappoint ye, mukker, but yer visit as an refugee on uncalled for appointment comes a few centuries too late...Mukker, the good fellow provider of bread in Barcelona has deceased already ages ago.

By owhereman

Whaddafeck...Clepsydra, or Jacques, as ye may wish to be adressed, why the feck do you insult me good friend Basil or any other artists. You surely are a damned little feck! Who do you think you are, preposterous! You must have lost yourself totally beyond any control.

Listen to your own dialogue that may judge for itself. Although garbled, we succeeded to deduce the line of discourse between you and a certain imaginary friend.
But whatever, you may have meant, I can only warn you fairly that proper retribution may be due at hand.

PS: For one thing this situation never happened as you may maintain falsely.

Secondly: My name is not Ronny!

Thirdly: I prefer not to be adressed by that name.
Unlike you, I don't need any sensational nomenclature to puff up a pompous self as some here may seem to so direly need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Dialogue of Clepsydra (Jaques Pervert):
"I! Ronny, did you get fired from your job at the Chinese laundry "Cynicism" ?

(Ronnie (?) responding assumedly):
You’re not cynical mate. You?

(Clepsydra):
I sit in the same place all day and yelp. You don’t.
Even holler at the moon. You haven’t.
I thought I had an original thing (?) to say in this forum. For years you’re such!

(Ronnie): A friggin’ drone that! Everyone split and left!

(Clepsydra): Except a couple.

(Ronnie): Who do you mean: are there more than one Clepsydras?

(Clepsydra): "...Of people who care.

(Ronny): About something other than you?
Or inane condemnations of everything: Including the fucking rain be cause.

(Clepsydra):
I’m sure when you get wet you have the impression that the sky is.
I'm pissing on and on.
You, you’re just! Lame! Mate, You!
I can’t put up a real link.
To work Beyoncé caused you.
Of course I’m scared.
Shitless that we’ll all barf: Laughing me!
I was gone for months.
Came back for a visit to the grave.
Found.

(Ronnie):
You pounding?
Your meat?
By the way, did you sell any woks this year?

(Clepsydra):
Can you really justify those “artistic” tax deductions.
You’re takin’ these answers.
Constantly I hear this repeating in my head.
Probably not, is what I then say to myself.
I'm just another bottom scrapper.

(Clepsydra, starting to lose it):
Feeding off the system, Fucking artists!
Right! You, fucking artists, my ass!
I’ve got one foot on the left Banksy!
I’ve got one foot on the right Banksy!
I’ve got the third foot up the backside of Imbecile!"

Signed: Jacques Prevert (a.k.a Clepsydra)

(end quote)

By owhereman

But WAIT: Reading back I see an issue tha's quite more interesting! Here follows this full reprise of the response of Breeze when uninvitingly attempting to approach me, futilely so in the hope to gain any response.

To this I can only say: Breeze please refrain from contacting me uninvitedly in near or distant future, or you will have it, buddie.
Hear what the feck dares to say:

(Breeze slimin'):
"O'Hare, this debate started off just fine until that stupid silly arse with a piece of colon attached (named Clepsydra) started it up again; It is obviously impossible for that submarinal piece of a section of excretory epithelium to consider any academic argument without featuring some aspect of his insecurity...

I, Breeze, admit that (like Clepsydra) I too was a right cunt at school, always bragging more than anybody else in a test. Never had any friends and unable to relax with thought... a last word twat, he, he.
Anyway, good for me.
Have a Post Mortem good value reply to C.

:) Breeze "

(end quote)

By owhereman

Clepsydra, listen carefully to what I have to say despite our differences.
For the sake of completeness, I wanna comment on the rest of your poem, if that's what it must pass for.

"Everything is inextricably linked."
Right, buddy, now tell me: with what?

"The fact that you don’t recognize this doesn’t mean its not happening."
You clearly have no inkling whatsoever of subparticle physics. I advise you a bike trip through the large hadron collider, but probably you will get lost. Why? Because you proceed:

"Thought can be loud as clepsydra when kicked hard...bellicose when the wife doesn't want intercourse...silent as after punishment by O'Hare... subtle as O...relative like cousin and nieces...timeless as a broken watch...everything....nothing....everything and nothing....now where's the feckin'enTrance, am I in the united states or whot, even the deepest...connecticut...Transylvaniacendence requires thought..."
Right buddie, assuming that you would right and I emphasize: "assuming" and "would", then it can be predicted that the next thing you'll boast will be: that you've reinvented the weel of karma?

NEXT: "When there is no more thought you die and something else is born."
You must stop this sillie egocentricness, y'ear! Do you really assume that you're the only one in the universe that thinks? Preposterous! Even when you would die this very moment, countless critters still would continue thinking.

Then you start whining again:
"Transformation requires thought, Acts of realization, Subjectivity, Objectivity, art works, an artist works, the universe, a network of thought, chaos and order...
Well you make it clear, you think everything as thought. But if we must be consequent, you also believe to think that you can think all that from the tip of your toenail or whatever. Here the mask definitely falls off: all that time you thought ye was gad!

NEXT, this example of stupidity:
"Some people believe that wisdom lives in a vacuum of violence, anger and fear..."
What the feck: this is not a vacuum, the thing described is filled to the brim with things.
Obviously you use the term vacuum preposterously to impress. But believe me, "vacuum" is more closer to whatever contents is in your empty head.

Next you start describing: "The fear THEY project is their own lack of courage to confront reality. Their dishonesty manifests itself constantly through negative thought patterns..."
Well speaking of projections! This is exactly what you project of THEM, while in yer paranoia. I try to reach into yer thick skull to say to you that what you project is a delusion.

NEXT: "They lie and puff themselves up like party balloons. This is the facade they live behind. This façade is shallow and void of meaning. And like the balloons the facade will eventually burst..."
C'mon! balloons? , puff? party balloons, puff, puff?. facades, masks, party hats?
What a bad choice of words if it comes to what you intended to describe initially, but which misses any mark. In this your as the fatass elephant that you have eloped with.
Although the above perfectly demonstrates your own shallowness.

NEXT: "This is the law of karma...."
Haven't I said it before: that you would insist upon you having reinvented the wheel.
I think the truth may be closer to that you had a trip too many to Las Vegas, buddie.

"People who live behind these facades believe their own lies..."
You certainly are a fan of the Carpenters in your melodramaticness.

"They believe their own protestations..."
Now you believe to be Luther or Calvin? Want a hammer and nails to attack the church doors, buddie?

"They believe their own boasting to be of consequence. "
Now you believe yerself to be O'Mama?

"These are not brave people but they have the right to go on living in their illusion..."
Now you think yerself as Aldi Huxlebirrie?

"... and to exist in a state of virtual samsara."
Now clearly you think of yourself a great yogi?

Conclusion: you surely are a bit over the top and self-overrated, buddie. I advise you to engage a proper shrink for treatment before it's too late.
You can't expect me to do all this for you by meself, nae?

By owhereman

...' An artist listenin' to an art theorist instructin' him how to do his art, will soon in rage kick the yappin'monkey out of his studio'.

You are that ape owheremen, I won't waste any more precious words on you, here's the SIZE 10 !

By Breeze

What we have here....is phailure to excommunicate these sewdoughs.
Last time I was exposed to such rhythmic babbling pish was round a coffee table with dismembers of the once earnest 'Art Languagers' many of whom have apparently reverted (ha!) to 'Dwawink' (Dahlinks/lisping) .... Brooke Bond St faux angst-free tatful dithers - Marx via Groucho product, things (nice word) which when they are chitteringly unadorned by verbiage simper into at best addendumdums. That these people still find an audience somewhere is mysterious (well not really) but their gang hut remains a dark still uncool place with no dignified exits. They cling like remoras drippingly defrauding the reputations of received nomo droppos.
Ernestly Gumbootitsch

By imbecile

Energy is thought and feeling.

Human beings are composed of energy and they are the perfect example of this.

Recognition is the first step on the way to understanding love.

Owhereman, I only read your first retort because you have a tendency to lose focus quickly. You evidently also have a very difficult time grasping and responding to the bigger picture and essential elements without dragging your feet through miles of pendant, caustic, and mean spirited excuse because of your lacking acuity. Your problem lies in the fact that you see the aspects of life you enunciate in various responses as being in some way separate from each other. Your argument is stagnant and a bottomless pit because it has never befriended the invisible link between mechanical and vitalist thought. You’re obviously a well read and opinionated individual but there’s something broken in you and despite all of your attempts at wit, irony, humor, and pedagogical force feeding you lack that certain spark.

For those of you who haven’t already read it and would like a more applicable discussion of energy I might suggest the following:

“Sustainable Energy without the Hot Air”
By David MacKay

I don’t know why but I thought that title was somehow very pertinent.

STONE IS A FOREHEAD WHERE DREAMS MOAN . . .

Federico Garcia Lorca

By clepsydra

Hello Basil, where's a Basilisk when ye need one, right here, I guess!
Basil, I knew you wouldn't let it go unstrafed all these insults affa 'some people' here, you know who we mean.
No, Basil I don't refer to Sant and Mendez, as these are gentlemen, the same as you and me, so I'm sure you do understand who we allude ter, nae.

For the record, let me be clear: I fully agree with Basil's description of Clepsydra ( ! sic) and Breeze (! sic) as: "...sewdoughs, rhythmically babbling pish around a coffee table, dismembers of the once earnest 'Art Languagers'."
Fully agreed with ye, Basil!

Basil, it didn't escape your attention too when we observe Clepsydra's tendency to mimic things. It's just part of his simianity that's so typical when he ressorts to reverted 'Dwawink' (Dahlinks/lisping) to fend his 'Brooke Bond St faux angst..."
Ha, ha, have a go, Basil!

Who else but Basil could thus maisterfwoolly descroibe we-ken-who, as:
"-free tatful dithers - Marx via Groucho products, things which when they are chitteringly unadorned, by verbiage simper into at best bestially added dumdums..."

I could nae agree more with Basil: "That these people (?) still find an audience somewhere is mysterious (well not really)..."

Basil, sae ye ken the place where they live?
"... but their gang hut remains a dark still uncool place with no dignified exits."

"...They cling like clepsydric remoras drippingly defrauding the reputations of received nommoz ay druppeez."
Couldn't agree more with ye, Basil!

"Earnestly Gumbootisch..."
Basil, oi see tha' y'ur seemin'lie 'ave arroived in the mood ter crush both clepsydra and breeze, nae?
Oi assume tha'ye plan ter crush them wi' the SOIZE TEN gummie bootz tha'ye got for last Christmas, nae.
Basil, oi urge ter exerzoise paychance.
Ye pleaz troi ter refrain from causing too much 'arm ay irreversoizable damage to them pathoitic croitterz.
Think affa yer guid woifie ay yer loved daufter, me guid man! Think affa: "wottif if it's yer oown daufter...!"
Basiwl, who will take care affa them loved puiple when ye must sleep in priwson!
Think abit aaaw this before ye taeke oanie action, me guid mukker, willya pleaz!

Best, O.

By owhereman

To Breeze: Listen mister, didn't I told you earlier not to adress me uninvitedly?
Still ye think to have to respond wi'what suspectedly must pass for a poem of unwanted adoration?
Mister you come tell me what to make of yer spewed jabberwockie:

"You are that!
Ape owheremen, I won't!
My waist is not anymore so!
Not as the precious words on you, Owhere.
Look here's me waist SIZE: It is 10 !"

As I said Breeze, I'm not particularly interested, so please don't contact me, I'll contact you.

By owhereman

i think, i am.

a zen monk who said:

i dreamt i was a butterfly last nite
i am confused if i am that butterfly's dream...

needs a wack on his head with a thick stick!

nomo monkeydom
while baboons clappp in

By harrypotter

Now allow me to analyze some more jabberwockie from we-know-who Clepsydra:

"Energy is thought and feeling."
Well, tokking about reinventing the wheel and make a wheelie here. And I thought that ye first said that all was thought that was supposed to be the same as feel?
Man, you missed the point so completely, as we may expect from a lardass eloped elephant.
The point is: energy IS, thought and feeling differentiated as different modes of perception of that one energy.
As I said you don't see what you hear and vice versa. But the dumbwitzer still maintains it is so. Absolutely and totally ludicrous. A clear example of clichematous use of lucrous terminology that in the end can be fully stripped away from loads of lard of both its abdominal regions as from their fat backs.

"Human beings are composed of energy and they are the perfect example of titties."
No comment whatsoever, this is preposterous.

NEXT: "Recognition is the first step on the way to understanding love..."
Wrong buddie! Cognition is the first step. Why? The first thing a baby learns to perceive is the face of its mother, which is an issue of cognition.
RE-cognition is the second step, when cognition is repeated from then on, of course.
So stop your jabbiewockie assumptions right here on the spot, comrade!

NEXT, ye fall into pure whining, so I just will safe energy by demonstrating what you should have responded:
"Owhereman, I only read.
You first retort because you have a tendency to retort. I lose focus quickly. You evidently not!

I also have a very difficult time grasping and responding to the bigger picture and guess what: it came crashing down on me. Still have to learn to walk, the baby me. I need my essential elements so as I can learn to walk without dragging me feet.

Through miles of pendant, caustic, and mean spirited I, I offer my excuse to you, because of this, your humble lackie who so's lacking in acuity.

O'Hare, your problem lies in the fact that you see the aspects of life.
You enunciate it in various responses as being in some way separate from each other.
Of course you're right, as there are different modes of perception in our senses.
Are our senses not intermediated by their specific regions in the brain. But then again, I never was a great neurologist nor psycholgist, or psychiatrist. Although I have tried. By reading books, but never went beyond the first page. All the rest I just made up so it was conjecture and argument that is stagnant. Call it poetic liberty or wotever...heh, heh (very sillie sheepish smile)
I tried to describe "vacuum" as a bottomless pit because it has never befriended the invisible link between mechanical and vitalist thought."

Owhereman, you’re obviously a well read and opinionated individual, but there’s something broken in me. Despite all of your attempts at humoring me with your wit, irony, humor, and pedagogical force fed to me, for me you lack that certain spark plug that could re-start me engine..."


Listen Clepsydra, I don't know why everytime you seize the opportunity to slag off yer buddie Breeze, your only supporter here, when you write:
"...For those of you who haven’t already read it and would like a more applicable discussion of energy I might suggest the following:
“Sustainable Energy without the Hot Air” by David MacKay. I don’t know why but I thought that title was somehow very pertinent..."

NEXT:
"STONE IS A FOREHEAD WHERE DREAMS MOAN ..."
O yeah, Clepsydra, then you come tell me that Stonehenge is a gathering of dreamin'foreheads?
But then again, you always were the bizar one here. Remember the saying: the hills have eyes when there plays the sound of sinister music...

"Federico, Garcia and Lorca"
This signature may signify a multipersonality disorder syndrome. As I advised earlier: a good shrink may release you from this burden and also the nightmares when the moon is full and a stony feel in the forehead.

By owhereman

The English word cognition is defined by Fleming and Calderwood as: Knowledge in its widest sense; specially, interpretation of sensory perception.

The word Recognition is not an English derivative. Its origin is the German word Rekognition.

According to Kant “rekognition” or recognition is one of the three fundamental synthetic functions of thought, the other two being the apprehension of representations in intuition, and their reproduction in the imagination.

I’m sorry to say that once again your belligerently trying to split hairs where there are none to split. Your daft and ignorant attempts are only providing more evidence of some profound fracture in the core essence of your being.

You keep trying to prove that you have the spark by barking out mindlessly like a silly hound and regurgitating poorly processed information. This is very sad, very sad indeed, but it is your lot.

“There are two different kinds of doubt in the explanation of the writing:
One is of the truth of things,
The other is of the sense of the words.”

Saint Augustine

By clepsydra

you are all pseudo intellectual artist types, i see. Well Robert Storr has a Store for you where you can buy complete systemic thought patterns! Enjoy your piss pile, gerbils.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SbqHERKdlK8

By mendicant

Well, mendi that’s a very nice link. I wish I could provide one of what they’re doing in the back rooms of star shaped military buildings where they probably breed dogs the size of bulldozers and frogs the size of cars, but just imagine all of the possible potential applications for this little bot. Lots of possible nasty intrusive applications to be sure, but how about one positive one to start off with:

Imagine there’s been a terrible earthquake and there are people trapped way below a lot of rubble that even the super sniffing doggies can’t smell out for certain. Just think of the lives this pliable plasma like little crack slipping bot might be able to save someday.

Optimism is dirt cheap, you don’t have to go to a supermarket to buy it, and you don’t have to depend on anyone to invest it for you. If you’ve got it you’ve got all you’ll ever need to move forward with your life, and transform the insurmountable into the music of the spheres.

By clepsydra

More exalted blabberin'from some of the gerbils that without much cognitive faculties don't even recognize the difference between cognition (perception that once started with aware life) and recognition (mostly memory processes).

But then again, what else could be expected from such small animals suffering from a peanut for brains. Nice fluffie tails, though.

O yes, gerbils can bite too with their tiny teeth, but lions they ain't.

Recognize this: A CONGREGATION OF FOREHEADS AND WARY EYES IS CALLED STONEHENGE...at least for some of the poetic gerbils livin'there, nae?

By owhereman

A poetic gerbil passed me by
And called cheekly: Optimism is dirt!
Cheap, you don’t have to go to a supermarket to buy.
It and you don’t have to depend on anyone!
To invest it for you if you’ve got it.
You’ve got all you’ll ever need to move.
Forward with your life!
And transform the insurmountable megaliths
With their stiff frontal headache
Their wary wrinklin' eyes and sinister music
Of Stonehenge's dreamy spheres.

By owhereman

Not phailing to phorget phor a moment that this phorum might rediscover itself as a non-gibberfest where ultimately visual product was the non word, I have to own up to not having even opened the link. (or perhaps I lie) Would there have been a point? Bodkin de rigeur reading lists, spotter scores, a tasteful Table, listings, indexing, blub blub...... a conveyor belt of tripdippy partylines - Recognition, Focus, Kant, Lost in Translation, Wittgenwoofter, Lorca, -Heroic even, a 'given' unquestionababbly seeming to BE more Romantic than flattened a bit o' grass in her time-Big Bertha McTavish, of coarse Aunt Jessie, & the smouldering boobfest Elke Somner; alas this is what passes for arguement held up & cantilevered edjiewise like some IKEA nomenclatter and yet.... the spekky drippy blabberticipanties STILL can't even draw breath.
(insert suitababble puff quote)
Paw Broon 1933
I came to Draw

By imbecile

Wan hundred perceent corrict, Basiwl!
Fully garbillie agreein' wi'ye!
The gewrbilz in'ere runnin'aroon'loike crazy, man!
They even cloimb up yer legz ay troy ter taeke a peek under the Pawbroonz' kiltie.
Basiwl, whot is aaw tha'fizz tha'ye mention?
Never ken these, oanlie vaguely 'eard sae tha'these thingz existed!
In the moind affa those who loike awrtspik, tha's, nae?
But then again, a pirsin loike me can alsae nae be underestimated tae much! Nae? Och, och!
Basiwl, ye lend me suime day wannaf the guid aulde Scottish buiks affa ken affa aaw thoingz affa aaawrt, nae? Thank ye!
Ye came 'ere ter draw tae, Basiwl?
Ur did ye jist folloow Pawz Brooney ter see whaur he went?
Be 'earing frae ye!

All the Best, O.

By owhereman

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