I was just thinking about this today and how I miss it. Those guys were great in how they heckled like a peanut gallery at old black and white sci-fi flicks.

Anybody remember the show? How did you like it?

If you still don't know what I'm talking about, here:

http://video.google.com/videosearch?...en&page=1&so=0

 

https://www.dieseltruckresource.com/...ystery+Science

Your going to get begle started again.....

 

LOL, I totally forgot about that thread. Oops, oh well.

 

wont be the first time someone started a new thread for such a great subject.

 

Great minds think alike.

 

now isn't that a quote that will make your skin crawl..

 

Why would that make your skin crawl?

All of my minds think similarly, and they're all "great" in their own ways...

 

It's clear I need to get an appointment with the doctor...

Doctor: "What seems to be the problem?"

Me: "I was in an online forum and shared the same opinion with Begle1."

Doctor: "I'm sorry, all we can do is medicate you to dull the pain, there's nothing we can do..."

 

The idea that someone would think like YOU.

 

I don't think that I'm at all unique; but I am perfectly capable of fracturing my mind, developing ideals and idols within myself when I think that I need something that I don't have. And, once you have done that, thoughts embodied in those segments of your mind surface, preceding your conscious thinking. They're usually to the contrary, quite often suicidal, never controlled. I believe that I'm perfectly capable of understanding psychosis due to what I have experienced. But I think that I am normal; as much as anybody, at least.

It's a product of arrogance, to be so afraid of failure you cannot accept it. It is a Bolshevik ideal; to cut straight to the climax of development, for fear of failure in the development itself. Just as capitalism is the necessary and infinitely difficult course towards perfect communism, society is the necessary and impossible course towards perfect love. But instead of following that course, I was afraid of it and the common, ubiquitous failure I saw there; and so, I glimpsed an attractive entity and loved it infinitely, married it instantly. The fantasy lasted for five years; the euphoria was eternal over that timespan; however, the fantasy was undermined at a constant rate from its inception by an anxiety over it's failure; although that anxiety did not manifest until the instant that I overcame the fantasy, in retrospect it was always there.

I created the entity to love because I realized the hopeless struggle that is ambition; I realized that by hoping for success you are eliminating the prospect of reaching it. So I exiled hope altogether, but life missing hope is impossible. And so, as a self-preservation measure, hope remanifested as an "external" feminine entity within my mind.
I had my hope; it was fully realized and received. But the entity that I perceived as an angel had to be based on a real figure. The struggle to reconcile a marriage with a girl who you don't know the slightest thing about, other than the infinitesimal glint of an eye as she sarcastically laughs, is what makes you realize that your fantasy is hopeless.
But the convictions I made during those years were made to the fullmost extent of my soul; the intent and sincerity of the vows were as perfect as I was; they were the strongest that I could have made. And they bound me to something that increasingly did not exist.
The avatar of hope that I developed within myself was an idol. Logically, I tried to say that I didn't, but as I lied in bed every night for five years and spoke to the fantastic figure, it was a prayer. My hope was my deity; I married myself to it and, as I prayed to it the responses would come. The idol returned what I needed to hear, but the answers were devoid of any thought on my conscious' behalf. But they were my own.
The conclusion is that the perfect exists only as you accept the perfection of the struggles that compose it. When you effortlessly accept a society or woman as divine you disrespect the integrity of the soul within; what is beautiful and truly perfect is what is strong enough to unite the struggles into a compromise, not that which is devoid of conflict. And to accept something as beyond this world in the ways of perfection is to become an idolater to your own dreams.


I refuse to believe that any of these thoughts are less than universal, to return to the original point.