The Man Who Works



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An old proverb fetched from the outward and visible world says: ‘Only the man that works gets the bread.’ Strangely enough this proverb does not aptly apply in that world to which it expressly belongs.

For the outward world is subjected to the law of imperfection, and again and again the experience is repeated that he too who does not work gets the bread, and that he who sleeps gets it more abundantly than the man who works. In the outward world everything is made payable to the bearer, this world is in bondage to the law of indifference, and to him who has the ring, the spirit of the ring is obedient, whether he be Noureddin or Aladdin, and he who has the world’s treasure, has it, however he got it.

It is different in the world of spirit. Here an eternal divine order prevails, here it does not rain both upon the just and upon the unjust, here the sun does not shine both upon the good and upon the evil, here it holds good that only he who works gets the bread, only he who was in anguish finds repose, only he who descends into the underworld rescues the beloved.

He who will not work does not get the bread but remains deluded, as the gods deluded Orpheus with an airy figure in place of the loved one, deluded him because he was effeminate, not courageous, because he was a cithara-player, not a man.

…for he gives birth to wind, but he who is willing to work gives birth to his own father.


tule tule
tuuli varista
ripusta oksaan lehtiä
orteen keinumaan
tuuli varista
parka eloa aristi
tuuli varista

Originality in Face: “Send me the article beforehand, don’t forget, and try and let it be free from nonsense. Facts, facts, facts. And above all, let it be short. Good-bye.”

“He could do nothing but twist his moustache, drink, and chatter the most inept nonsense that can possibly be imagined.”

Please listen whilst you read on :

Originality in form is beginning to take a corner of sharp intention in face.  Nature is no longer written in the blood.  This becomes ever more apparent in the deluge of faces that speak naught.  It is not a mere glint or a flicker of navy in the eye.  It is not a moustache of pomp or a beard of grace.  We have entered into the abyss from which we are so far removed. From our own standing precipices we look up into the drowning sky.  We must oblige mere acts of stage in order to gain some semblance of a now lost level of character.  It can only be described now in these times as an errand in ineffectuality.

“Listen, Stavrogin: to level the mountains is a good idea, not a ridiculous one. I’m for Shigalyov! No need for education, enough of science! There’s sufficient material even without science for a thousand years to come, but obedience must be set up. Only one thing is lacking in the world: obedience. The thirst for education is already an aristocratic thirst. As soon as there’s just a tiny bit of family or love, there’s a desire for property. We’ll extinguish desire: we’ll get drinking, gossip, denunciation going; we’ll get unheard-of depravity going; we’ll stifle every genius in infancy. Everything reduced to a common denominator, complete equality. ‘We’ve learned a trade, and we’re honest people, we don’t need anything else’–that was the recent response of the English workers. Only the necessary is necessary–henceforth that is the motto of the whole globe. But there is also a need for convulsion; this will be taken care of by us, the rulers. Slaves must have rulers. Complete obedience, complete impersonality, but once every thirty years Shigalyov gets a convulsion going, and they all suddenly start devouring each other, up to a certain point, simply so as not to be bored. Boredom is an aristocratic sensation; in Shigalyovism there will be no desires. Desire and suffering are for us.”

What allotments are these, that we have now engaged on play in play with no name beings…thin yet not clear and fleeting in form.

What feelings are these that escape in these moments, never to be found for most is now lost.  Every second…the soul fragments are led most remotely into the void.  We forgo privately for the illusions of what may be.  Never to escape the thought, that nothing ever is. 

“in the newspapers I read a biography about an American. He left his whole huge fortune to factories and for the positive sciences, his skeleton to the students at the academy there, and his skin to make a drum so as to have the American national anthem drummed on it day and night.”

There is life in these faces…there is grief behind the eyes.  There is longing in the soul.  The markers of human feeling written quite plainly in the visage.


Please consider a moment in time to reflect on all that was lost…the remaining fragments of soul which remain and the in-between illusions to justify reason for unoriginality in form. What manifests itself in the soul…what cannot be touched, cannot be hidden to the outside world for those who choose to see.

I hunt for the lot, for I am nothing.

All Rights Reserved © mmartel∞


USA Obsession with the depraved…

USA Obsession with the depraved…                    <—–


Make a choice in what kind of country your child is going to live

In a slave colony for the western homosexuals and pedophiles


In a superpower, never conquered by anyone

“Be proud of your ancestors!”



Male Birth Control

Male Birth Control              <—-

Please give a moment or two to reflect on the implications of such things.  Many times we believe ourselves or those around us to be immune to perils.  But when one doesn’t truly engage in the self…many will be led astray.  The consequences have deep reaching potential.  Many things that seem one way on the outset, prove themselves to be otherwise.  Time is a good indicator of many things…but knowing how to quickly react when situations arise with accurate aim…this is the art of practicing intelligence.  Thought turns to action…actions destroy the world we created.

Truth is all around…yet sometimes we only see it peering into the gaze of death.



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Optimal Marriage is Ideal; Traditional Marriage is Realistic

A lovely little piece that was intriguing. It stated something that many people fail to consider. The self, how the self may not be whole. Then how can one expect something whole…from fractured bits?

No, chances are you don’t know yourself

No, chances are you don’t know yourself     <—

Happened to stumble on this one when looking elsewhere.  This is the way to see most clearly…when not looking.  Most human beings are strangers to themselves.  Why?  Because the path of least resistance is the path most will follow.  It is in resisting, where you see the clearer path to truth.  Then, closer truth of self will follow.  Much of what we say and do is based off of fear.  Fear of the unknown self.  Give it a thought or two…

“Don’t consent to be hurt and you won’t be hurt – this is a choice over which you have control” ~ Epictetus


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The Pub…

“Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and un-provokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.”
William Shakespeare

An interesting take on the “idea” of the public meeting house better known as “the pub”…

And no, this is not about glorifying alcohol:

In Praise of Pubs

The problem with some people is that when they aren’t drunk they’re sober.
William Butler Yeats

On Intellectual Revolutions

Wow…rare is it that I see an idea that has flown through my head, come to a tangible form, from someone else’s mind.  “Thinking Housewife”, Laura Brown has done it again!  She is so brilliant at capturing an idea in a clear concise manner.  Although the subject can tend to get incredibly complex…she somehow seems to simplify it in quantifiable terms not leaving anything of importance by the wayside.  Now, that’s what I call brilliant!  Many thanks to Laura Brown for sharing her thoughts, saying it so eloquently and with just precise logic.  These things are indeed a rarity


Here is the link :