blp
03-02-2007, 10:21 AM
Innocence dies when we see the darkness in ourselves as much as the world
There is no Eden to which to return. There is only civilization to develop.
He felt himself thinking. The heat from it could have fried an egg.
Nurse Bujold continued to read from the days’ book:
Matthew sat at the window writing. Three drops of blood sat on the ledge. A rose sat in a clear glass on the table. Tiny organisms lived without peace in the water. He wrote ‘Innocence dies when we see the darkness in ourselves.’ The murders he had committed had taught him this much at least. Guilt was born of innocence. The state of innocence was the perilous one that threatened always to tip one over into guilt.
Oh, the long hours at boarding school. He wrote, ‘Myrtle, you are always in my thoughts. I am always uncomfortable, but I know that you will save me from this discomfort.’
But the girl let him down. She wanted someone older and cleverer - with a car - so she could learn from him, being, like Matthew, curious about the world. The lost innocence that had been like a talisman for him proved itself to be possessed of no magical prowess. Or at least, its absence did – if absent it really was. Somewhere she was talking about him. ‘That boring boring person.’
The constituent parts of the body are incapable of thought. The mind perceives the body both as an object and as its own being. Is being located more behind the eyes than elsewhere? Try closing the eyes. Attempt to locate being. Attempt to isolate the part of your being that has primacy. Is it the same as the part that is perceiving? What is it perceiving? Itself? Which part is thinking? Try to separate the function of thinking from the function of perceiving in considering this question. What is mind? Is it the thing that thinks or the thing that is thought about or both? If the last, how does the way it is thought about affect the way it thinks, therefore thinks about itself?
I know nothing of meter, he admitted, so naturally I don’t reject it. Why would I reject what I knew nothing about? I’m not prejudiced.
But that Sunday his friends convinced him to forget all his work troubles and come out with them in the car. He was partly induced by the knowledge that Alice would be coming too, but in the end she brought a date and they went in a separate car. Why does philosophy talk so little about sex? He wondered. Or perhaps he had been reading the wrong philosophy. Kant, who seems to have been not much interested. What am I able to think about sex? Or, more to the point, its absence? His first thought was that it might be described as an absence of being. A ridiculous idea.
Oh, the long hours at boarding school.
There is no Eden to which to return. There is only civilization to develop.
He felt himself thinking. The heat from it could have fried an egg.
Nurse Bujold continued to read from the days’ book:
Matthew sat at the window writing. Three drops of blood sat on the ledge. A rose sat in a clear glass on the table. Tiny organisms lived without peace in the water. He wrote ‘Innocence dies when we see the darkness in ourselves.’ The murders he had committed had taught him this much at least. Guilt was born of innocence. The state of innocence was the perilous one that threatened always to tip one over into guilt.
Oh, the long hours at boarding school. He wrote, ‘Myrtle, you are always in my thoughts. I am always uncomfortable, but I know that you will save me from this discomfort.’
But the girl let him down. She wanted someone older and cleverer - with a car - so she could learn from him, being, like Matthew, curious about the world. The lost innocence that had been like a talisman for him proved itself to be possessed of no magical prowess. Or at least, its absence did – if absent it really was. Somewhere she was talking about him. ‘That boring boring person.’
The constituent parts of the body are incapable of thought. The mind perceives the body both as an object and as its own being. Is being located more behind the eyes than elsewhere? Try closing the eyes. Attempt to locate being. Attempt to isolate the part of your being that has primacy. Is it the same as the part that is perceiving? What is it perceiving? Itself? Which part is thinking? Try to separate the function of thinking from the function of perceiving in considering this question. What is mind? Is it the thing that thinks or the thing that is thought about or both? If the last, how does the way it is thought about affect the way it thinks, therefore thinks about itself?
I know nothing of meter, he admitted, so naturally I don’t reject it. Why would I reject what I knew nothing about? I’m not prejudiced.
But that Sunday his friends convinced him to forget all his work troubles and come out with them in the car. He was partly induced by the knowledge that Alice would be coming too, but in the end she brought a date and they went in a separate car. Why does philosophy talk so little about sex? He wondered. Or perhaps he had been reading the wrong philosophy. Kant, who seems to have been not much interested. What am I able to think about sex? Or, more to the point, its absence? His first thought was that it might be described as an absence of being. A ridiculous idea.
Oh, the long hours at boarding school.