Philosophy Now Forum

CLINE-ISM

(PSYCHOANALYSIS + PATSY CLINE= THE SCIENCE OF SUFFERING)

" I've got your memory or has it got me?
I really don't know but I know it won't let me be"
-Patsy Cline


Cline's Sacred Drama- in her own personal history- at some point begun to morph into a timeless, unlocalized form; its general outline is as follows:

The innocent lover "dies of love".
the wounded singer rises up in her place.
The singer will be haunted by the "innocent lover".

"Sweet dreams of you
Things I know can't come true
Why can't I forget the past, start loving someone new
Instead of having sweet dreams of you."

A dramatic inertia. An inner, dimensionless prison of love and the impossible or "things I know can't come true".Total etherealization of the Past dimension, phantasmal, "sweet dreams" of Mnemosyne; a forgetting of the Now in favor of an impossible co-existence of a past-present structure, ideally wished for by Baudelaire as a "past, while retaining the piquancy of a phantom, WOULD MAKE ITSELF INTO A PRESENT".

(Note: In Psychoanalysis, a "memory-trace" is a permanent reservoir of critical moments in our personalized, "Sacred Drama". Sheltered in the un-conscious, hence unaffected by Time, this memory-trace continues to re-state the drama with great insistence.)

"A picture from the past came slowly stealing
As I brushed your arm and walked so close to you
Then suddenly I got that old time feelin'
I can't help it if I'm still in love with you".


Her transcendence of self through song is circular: it leads back into the terrible immanence of the memory-trace- a trace that is pure, unbridgeable, all the more omnipotent like God-Mnemonic as it cannot be perceived by the senses. It alone commanded and clouded her current relations.

By her absolute rejection of the Now, she illustrates its value in a way that has rarely been drawn . Her life, in that unlocalized time after the sacred drama (but its time is every moment) she had the feeling that her existence suddenly stopped. She pretended to die. But like the essence of death, which is a local finality without end, her body continued to haunt the earth like a melodious apparition.

"I can't forget you, I've got these memories of you
I can't forget you, I'll always be loving you"
I can't forget you, please tell me what must I do
My memories haunt me because I'll always love you"


For Cline then, the principal dimension of reality is The Past. She refused The Now. She resembles a child seated backwards in a car, watching the road as it fades into evanescence. It was She who allowed the gross and sweet residue of the gone , Ideal Lover to weigh down on the wings of her inner domain. It was She who continued to reinstall His ghostly figure by furnishing the present with fresh and nostalgic miseries. Like the excavation of a tomb, she brought fourth her fame and glory by digging up the exquisite remains of princely corpses. The same sweet melancholy, suffering, and nostalgia over an inaccessible "paradise lost" of a faded beloved remains her consistent theme from the first, to the last of her albums. Her recordings are nothing more than variations on this great Yester-Year Theme of perfect romance, perfect affection, and fatal endings.

That's nice. My theory is that it follows this equation.

Complexity='Sufferin.

I mean, think about it.

No Life
No suffering

RNA
Not sure if sentient

Lower life forms
Running around, not much suffering

Herbivores
Fear and pain keeps them alive

Carnivores
Fear of death and pain of hunger

Humans

All the suffering of herbivores and carnivores, combined with supreme awarenesss,
enlightened ones see through primal pleasures,
thus experiencing false joy. Also, has deep fantasies involving pain

See a trend?

The more complexity, the more alive something is, the more suffering.

Keep humming "life is good" though, so you can feel stupid. Deep down, you want to be stupid. You want to be nothing. Stupid. Worthless. Destroyed. Deep down, you hate life.

Why else do we immerse ourselves in things? And what is immerse? Subverse, perverse, converse. Spread around, thin around, pour water in a puddle so it ceases to exist. Versus - Verse Sus - Verse - To Destroy - Sus - To Sustain - Somebody get's destroyed...Somebody gets Sus-stained.

People like Racing Games because its a steady stream of new information. No time to think, as new building scenery presents itself to your mind. On a greater scale, this shows as man's drive to explore the unknown, find new things, to boldly go where no man has gone before. But he will never find anything, any new information, any new toy, to satisfy his hunger, a new drug, a new medicine, a new toy, a new medicine, a new cure, a new theory, a new scientific advancement, a new culture, a new machine, nothing his finds will be good enough to alleviate his suffering. For the only way for such a machine to alleviate him would be to end him, or immerse him into a state of non-consciousness. After his journey through the aeons he will return back where he began. He will rediscover the ultimate truth, the truth he's been looking for all these years but could never find it. The Ultimate Truth! his hate for life.

I mean, this is probably the most important post in the history of the internet, but it will probably go the wayside because lets face it, being stupid is the #1 priority. You have pointless things to do on Facebook, so who am I to get in the way? Go post about your daily activities like you always do. I'm not cat in the hat, I don't have special gadgets and transdimensional doohickeys to magically save you from the mess you made, which was your destiny to make a big mess and ruin yourself in the first place, caused by the illusion of choice. You make no more choices than a protozoa. You did not choose to exist, you yourself are a self-propagating mess of organized suffering. You are existence itself, you are a self replicating and self organizing life form. This mess, your mess, was your destiny, you are not separate from this mess, are the mess itself. Your race has a hell of a long way to go.

Amen, I tell you,

this type of "pessimism", if we wish to call it that, is a

-BRIDGE and STEPPINGSTONE-

to that transmortal being....where even suffering becomes positive
( religious ecstasy, shamanization, Dionysian madness)

-but it is no end-in-itself (teleology)

Montgomery77 wrote:Amen, I tell you,

this type of "pessimism", if we wish to call it that, is a

-BRIDGE and STEPPINGSTONE-

to that transmortal being....where even suffering becomes positive
( religious ecstasy, shamanization, Dionysian madness)

-but it is no end-in-itself (teleology)

But if suffering becomes positive, then doesn't positive become suffering? May I remind you that the Joker is actual quite miserable. if A=b, the b=A.