Imagine a boot stamping on a human face, forever � and you like it. No matter what your politics are or who you vote for, no matter what books you've Imagine a boot stamping on a human face, forever � and you like it. No matter what your politics are or who you vote for, no matter what books you've read or movies you've seen, when the boot comes crashing down upon thee you will get on your knees and lick it and call it daddy.
This is who Alone assumes you are, likewise he assumes that you know who he is, so he does not want to be who you think he is. You thought he was "the narcissism guy" when he was The Last Psychiatrist and so you organized your life to avoid this superego potentially calling out your narcissism from beyond the veil of anonymity. Surprise � God is always watching, and he knows what you did.
Most people who haven't actually read it like to decry its "misanthropic" style. Maybe the style is misanthropic, but it is misanthropic in the way that the Zen master thwacking you with his shit-wiping stick is misanthropic: he is only trying to enlighten you, whatever it takes. And usually it takes a lot.
What is takes is insults, profanity, obscenity, psychoanalysis, logic puzzles, Lacanian thought-loops, Deleuzian obfuscation, Ancient Greek plays, invented primary sources, repetitive demands that you read primary sources, more insults, smut lit, and blackpills. And if you can stomach it, even if you can't digest it all, then there is presumably hope for you.
You are the protagonist of Sadly, Porn. You are a modern creature, seeking knowledge to mask that you have no power, seeking resentment to mask that you have no charisma, and clinging to envy to mask that you are incapable of love. Whether this is broadly true for you or not, there is always that shadow in you, something repressed, for which this is true.
This is the part that Alone is writing for, the part he berates continuously, attempting to get past every defense. Every book and film and play and dream, every Bible passage and porn scenario picked apart in this massive tome is an attempt to come at this shadow from a different angle, to name it in all its shapes and forms. It is not something that can easily be named, even the great Jesus Christ could only allude to it. This is why it takes Alone 1000+ pages.
Are the insults directed at me? says the unintegrated self who is afraid that the master is right. Certainly I seek knowledge but doesn't that knowledge inherently grant me some power, can't my maps of meaning bring about God's Kingdom on Earth? And the master, having switched from rum to 1:4 diluted wine (because he's not a barbarian), says that knowledge is all about you but power is not, because power is the means by which knowledge is shared. The power of one is tyranny, but the power of many, literally, is a democracy.
Alone ends the book with a blackpill because he knows you won't believe him. He knows that you are going to reject the verdict having heard the evidence. And this renders you free � free of the system, of the Ledger, free from impotence and narcissism, from Lysander and Thucydides and Edward Teach, from suffering and ill-will � free from porn. ...more
this shit makes "The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect" look like Elmo's Worldthis shit makes "The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect" look like Elmo's World...more
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