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A night with beautiful vistas

Posted on January 1, 2023January 1, 2023 by admin

I had a night with beautiful vistas: in dreamland: having a quiet and fine New Year’s Eve together with Veer without media, chewing on half a hat of Waardstool together and you sleep like a log later, even if a bombardment is still raging outside. Dreaming with visions full of beautiful landscapes. 2023 will be the year when 10 years of nomadic existence comes to an end for me. Actually, my whole life has been a nomadic high: moving from place to place, and until 2 years ago I had moved 20 times, but we have thrown the gear on that last two years by having no place at all. Wow, that was intense, and like everyone else, 2022 was a year showing its prickly self in full – but the difference between a Sage and a normal human being is that the latter experiences everything either as a curse or a blessing, while for the Sage, only challenges exist.

A Sage cannot Complain! Because you can only complain if you are cursed, if Bad luck exists. I picked up this perspective from Castaneda’s books as a young teenager. Then I went to live on my own for 5 years, squatting, without any income there I had to take care of myself. That was pretty extreme poverty, but I never complained about it even for a moment, and I noticed this year that my father had created some story in his head about me running away from home when I was 16 and immediately getting a generous benefit from the government. In his psyborg view, that was the only reason to explain my lack of complaints. So this false construct, this projection cage – has played a role in the background all my life. But you can’t complain about that either – it is a consequence of choosing this path, which is rudimentarily different from the energetic configuration they create model citizens with.

Having to deal with complainers is, I think, the hardest thing for me in this life. I myself am writing another thick volume of poetry under the greatest possible pressure and that volume is of a high standard, which is the impeccable thing to do. But then you have to deal with the kind of people who still live in a script, often in this case the script of the ‘recognised poet’ who is allowed to put in a meagre performance every so many years because he is supposedly in a fund. That whole idea of being in a fund, after which each book is allowed to see life without criticism is pretty much the ultimate form of entitlement, and my perspective is radically different: each collection has to be better than the last, full stop. And what do you see: those script dwellers start gossiping behind your back, because it is not their laziness that is the problem, no, your vision is the vision of a monster.

Gossip away – you really don’t have a Sage with it. That publisher’s supposed success is your projection, not mine. I care about literature, not success. But what you see predominantly in the world of literature is that entitlement is the norm, just as the entitlement of ‘mental illness’ knew to become the norm in the Western world, a few labels with shadowy explanations from which you derive rights to behave lazily.

In the real world such rights do not exist.

Kind regards and have a great 2023!

Martinus, Mierlo, 01-01-2023

Post Views: 627
Category: Psychosupersum

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Castles Get Kicked in the Bricks each Summer

Let’s face it: some backpacks just carry your stuff. This one tells your entire life philosophy in one ridiculous, multilingual joke. Imagine strolling into a museum, a bus stop, or your ex's new wedding—with a bag that declares, in ten languages, that castles are always the losers of summer.

Why? Because deep down, you know:

  • Tourists always win.
  • History has a sense of humor.
  • And you, my friend, are not carrying your lunch in just any nylon sack—you’re carrying it in a medieval meltdown on your shoulders.

This backpack says:

  • “I’ve been to four castles, hated three, and got kicked out of one for asking where the dragons were.”
  • “I appreciate heritage sites, but I also think they could use a bit more slapstick.”
  • “I’m cute, I’m moopish, and I will absolutely picnic on your parapet.”

It’s absurd.
It’s philosophical.
It holds snacks.

In short, it’s not just a backpack—it’s a mobile monument to glorious collapse.

And honestly? That’s what summer’s all about.

Philosophy thirts

Feeling surveilled? Alienated by modernity? Accidentally started explaining biopolitics at brunch again? Then it’s time to proudly declare your loyalties (and your exhaustion) with our iconic “I’m with Fuckold” shirt.

This tee is for those who’ve:

  • Said “power is everywhere” in a non-BDSM context.
  • Tried to explain Discipline and Punish to their cat.
  • Secretly suspect the panopticon is just their neighbour with binoculars.

Wearing this shirt is a cry of love, rebellion, and post-structural despair. It says:
“Yes, I’ve read Foucault. No, I will not be okay.”

Stay tuned for more philosophical shirts and backpacks, as we at Benders are working on an entire collection that will make even the ghost of Hegel raise an eyebrow.

Curious about the intersections between poetry, philosophy, and machine learning?

Explore a collection of notes, reflections, and provocations on how language shapes — and resists — intelligent systems like Grok

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