A few thoughts on gifts, the gifted, gift-economies, and the psychosociopathology of gifting
Gifts is ossum. I like 'em. Everyone likes gifts. Even the Eskimos.
Why not give them. Like head. Like Hell. La quelle.
Give me some gifts.
Make them expensive.
Maybe then I will put out.
The Light is a gift.
No dog is a gift. Dogs are curses.
I yelled at one today.
Artists are gifted. Well some.
This poetry is hard.
Like the presidency.
Something about words.
Knowing them. Not knowing them.
Language is a virus.
The oncology of invisible touch.
It has been said:
"Give a man a gift and he will love you
two and he will like you
three and he will resent you
and four he will wish you dead
for not giving enough."
Things, things and more things.
The accumulation of things.
A multiplicity of It.
What is important is what is between.
Me and you.
I and Thou.
Not the one. Not the other.
The AND. The Gift.
The breath flowing in and out.
We are breathed.
Philosophy takes two.
There is no I without You or It.
And that I changes along with the Other.
The I-You more full than the I-It.
Relationship versus Experience.
Intimacy versus Isolation.
The I alone but Ego's delusion.
Maya, Samara, Hootenzee Schnooten...
Therefore consider outside yourself only,
and always put your neighbor's welfare
above your own.
Everything we've ever learned
To stay the course would be disastrous.
Time to start all over.
Rejecting the humbug. Inventing afresh.
Religions are superstitions, and economies
The hole you are digging is your grave.
And a sucker is born every second.
I've an eight-track mind.
And philosophy takes five.