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Prove that humans have free will
Brotip: you can't
I chose to bump this thread
Define "free will".
Protip: you can't.
What's the point of discussing old and stale categories if you disagree with the whole model behind them?
You're only ever going to find people who start from a different premise (and SURPRISE! Get to a different conclusion), or you'll find people whose worldview doesn't even contemplate it as possible.
There is no "discussion" to be had, because two people who disagree on this don't argue with the same logic, don't think in the same way.
It's like playing golf against someone playing Ping Pong, you can't even put the ball down anywhere for the two to agree.
>>7984004
>prove something that is notoriously impossible to affirm or deny both empirically and a priori
Free journal thread. Tell me about your biggest fears, /lit/. Just start writing, and stop when you feel you've said enough. Only minimal editing allowed.
I think one of my biggest worries is not being exceptional. I come from a generation where essentially every child was told in school that they’re special—exceptional, even—and they can be whatever they want to be. Everybody’s a winner. The unquestionable falsity of this mentality becomes clear at a young age as you witness other children outperform you, only to be reassured that you’ve done a super job because you tried your best. Suddenly you start thinking that you’re not really much good at anything, and the whole world is bullshitting you. You’ve been living a lie, and you’re not actually much good at anything. You learn the word mediocrity, and you immediately associate it with yourself. Why try? You shouldn’t bother. You stop. There’s always some fucking kid who’s effortlessly better than you. Always one step ahead. Two steps. Four. Now you’re at a shit college with a shit life and a shit alcohol problem. The only thing you pride yourself on is your ability to correctly distinguish between your/you’re, and you sneer at all the fuckups who can’t get it right. At least you can write above a fifth grade level. You’re so much better than them. Maybe you are exceptional after all. Maybe you should write a novel. Maybe you should direct a film. You bask in your superiority with a constant internal smirk, deriding those around you for their failures. But really, you know it’s just an illusion. It’s a story you tell yourself so you can sleep at night (the pills help a bit too). You know you’re not really any better than anybody. You’re a fraud to the whole world, but mostly to yourself. You hope someday you just won’t wake up, because you’re too chicken shit to proactively off yourself and hurt all those caring people who told you you were exceptional, and still believe it. This only serves to increase your self-pity, and you wish you could try, because maybe trying could actually get you somewhere. But you can’t. You’re stuck; stuck wallowing in your crushing averageness, confined to menial hobbies like watching funny videos and posting on an imageboard all day.
I just want to get away from my family and live on my own so I can feel like i'm actually living a real life, feels like iv just been a weak little shit for the most part.
But its like either hunt around for these shitbird minwage jobs or stay in school to at least get some chance of not being a pauper, but then I'm getting sick of the school life.
Considering joining the Coast Guard or something, have Uncle Sam pay for my education and shit. Just need to get the fuck out of here. If I'm still here at 25 I will literally just walk the earth.
The novel is coming along fine.
>>7981402
I can relate, but I don't think I'd ever have the courage to walk the earth. I'll probably just confine myself to a shit minimum wage job and dream of creating something and becoming a real contributor to society rather than just a consumer, but never have the attention span to accomplish anything substantive
The critique thread is dead, long live the critique thread. I'll return the favor to as many people as I can, minimum of ten. Here's a prose poem:
The only west left is the north. Tom Waits For Death By A White Man's Fire Built From The Crossties Of An Abandoned Railroad, He Has A Handle Of Old Crow, Half In His Bag And Half In His Gut, And He Has A Gun, Eighteen Rounds For The Bears, One For The Heartache, And One For The Sky. God if I have to die you have to die.
Well, ants keep slaves and orangutans can paint. And you're lying through your yellow teeth saying you never seen a dog hate. The stars, have you seen the naked stars, have you really seen beyond the white picket graveyards? Go ahead and hang yourself from your calendar and say with the humility of a strip mall's skeleton it makes you better. Go ahead. The cowboys are dead and whores wear their skin, but there's some indians left. They've got the Native American Flu and it has a big sloppy with poison glue stamp "Made In Real America" but they'll be okay, they'll be okay, they never stopped fighting and the cowboys are dead and the borders too will die with time.
The only west left is the north, and the gold is really what the poets said in song, black and corrupting and bubbling up from hell, it pollutes more than men's souls. The miners will rush, and they'll come in chains, they always come in chains, slaves selling themselves for a chance to own slaves, they always come in chains. The aspen will tremble and the snow will melt, ants keep slaves and orangutans can paint, the aspen will tremble and the snow will melt, we're the only apes that kill ourselves. The west was never the west and what an idea to build myth from direction, but the north hasn't been paved yet and wilderness lives in the cracks of eastern asphalt and the stucco palaces of the west will crumble into film and song.
The West Was Never The West And Tom Waits Patiently For Death By The Embers Of A Fire He Watches The Stars Slowly Get Dressed And Tongue Kiss Him Goodbye With A Red Sunrise, You Go Your Way And I'll Go Mine, I've Been Following The Highway West And It's Worked For Me So I'll Go Where It Curves With A Quarter Handle Of Old Crow And A Gun With Nineteen Rounds. The only west left is the north.
here is my review of bloodmeridian
(final countdown intro plays)
bloodmeme ugh, this book was written by corncob tortillas YeCarthy.
I could blame 4chan for making me read this, but I have no one to blame but myself. I wondered what all the memes were about and gave it a shot.
what I found out was, it's a meme for a reason.
it's a book about riding horses. it's about spitting. maybe occasionally killing some injins and taking their hair. then it's about getting wasted and partying.
3 quartets of the book is just about scenery and riding horses. they rode on and on and on and spat and ate some tortillas and spat and rode on and said ye.
corncob describes a lot of nice Vistas that I can't imagine because I'm not a pleb. so basically I could have skipped to the last 70 pages or so when the unkillable outlaw band somehow gets ambushed and all killed. yay it's not boring anymore. blah blah skip to a few years later. oh yeah the judge. he's some guy that's all smart and bad and stuff. well him and some kid meet up again. this is where corncob tortillas YeCarthy let's you chose the ending. it's like a puck your own adventure. wtf happened. who knows. this is what I think happened. I fucking hope you read this book or this review isn't for you. well some shit goes down with a bear and some girl and I think the kid rapes the girl, fuck I don't even know I wasn't really paying attention. well the judge don't like that to much and he challenges the kid to a game of blackjack. the kid bets all his chips on red and loses. he gets pretty pissed so he flips the chess board and pieces go flying everywhere and one actually hits the judge. well the judge he don't like that to much. he stands up and yells habeeb it and socks the kid right in his keister. the kid yells out twinkiehouse and the judge pulls down the kids pants and sticks his flaccid penor in the kids bum. the judge thinks of Margaret thatcher naked and gets a huge boner. like a 6 foot boner and the kid explodes. that's when some dude walks in and is all like "woah fuck this shit I'm out of here".
then there's some blurb about some other shit on the last page that flew over my head cuz I'm retard.
so yeah if you like riding horses and actually subvocalize and picture shit in your head this book might be for you. I thought it was a right snore fest. fuck you /lit for memeing into reading this. I got tortilla'd and I'm a stupid corncobber fuck
So I've been writing a bit, need some input. Two part post, here's (1/2).
You know, I never got why people question other people’s affection for them. When I was in senior year of high school, I got to know this girl, let’s call her Red for now. So Red was known by everyone as a bit of an airhead, but there was more to her than that, she was intelligent but didn’t really show it. Of all the things I loved about her, beyond the beautiful bust, slender hourglass figure, elegant branch like arms and hands like those fancy ladies who wear the white gloves in 30’s era movies, y’know? Beyond the cute face, of all the things that made her such a babe, her hair was what brought it all together.
She had this beautiful, drop dead gorgeous, soft flowing hair that went to just the top of her butt. It was something in between a brown and reddish color and had volume like cotton candy. Everything was just right about it, and I’d play with it when I sat behind her in class, seeing how I was a dunce who couldn’t figure out she might have had an interest in me. My teacher would get mad and joke about how we can go on a date later, focus on the work for now. You know why I didn’t ask her out? Because I couldn’t fathom why she’d have an interest in me. I was a year younger than the other guys in my class, wasn’t driving and going out, didn’t have the money for it, didn’t have all the friends, I was just a chubby kid who was sort of scholastic for the sake of attention and acceptance. Kind of like those fat people who do nothing but joke around with everyone because they know they’re fat shits that no one likes to be around, they hate themselves for it and overcompensate.
Anyway, it all came to an end at prom night. I asked the DJ to play one last Spanish tango song, I had practiced a lot to dance with a partner. She was there on the dance floor, everyone else leaving, and she was looking back with this desire to dance. She really wanted to just dance to that one song, and I was there, and I knew how. I was finally going to dance with the girl of my dreams, this funny, angry, god-like Bolivian beauty from suburban New Jersey. And you know why I didn’t?
>>7962394
(2/2)
Because she had every reason not to. There was no reason for someone like that to dance with someone like me. I was so afraid of the pain of getting shut down by this girl who I practically worshiped, I was so comfortable in my unknowing and excuses, that I watched her walk away onto the prom bus that shuttled us to the country club that night. Everyone had a good time. Everyone danced. Everyone ate, laughed, joked, it was a night to remember for each and every person. The only difference for me, was that it was a night of learning. In that moment, when it seemed whatever Deity that was floating in the starts above had frozen hell and burned down heaven to make this perfect moment, I knew. I knew the truth of what I had done. And I felt pathetic.
When people say they live their life with no regrets, that’s gotta be an outright lie. I will always regret that. That will always scar me. There’s no rationalization you can make up to say it was a good thing. It was cowardice. It was being content with mediocrity. Then I realized I was no better than the welfare leeches and child pageant show mothers. Here I am, in all my egoism. Here I stand, scared and selfish. I loved that girl. I still do. And the thought of another man laying hands on her still opens old wounds every day. But that’s how I know I’m still alive, because I’m still hurting. I’ve stopped hurting once, and let me tell you, there’s nothing worse than not feeling anything. So if I had to choose between nothing and pain, give me pain. I’ll take it.
That was one of my first but many major life lessons, the truth of how people are. That deep, deep down, everyone knows their true nature, even if they use all the mental gymnastics in the world to run from it. An eight ball isn’t going to change that. A twelve pack won’t either. And wishing the past would change sure as hell ain’t gonna make the future a better place. That’s why people question it when you show them affection, because they know just how shitty they really are, but they’re scared you’ll see it too. They’re scared of having something then losing it again, because no one gets used to pain. No one gets used to being alone. Its human nature. So, if I could tell myself one thing from back then, it would be don’t question the shit that happens. Just live. Just act. Just move.
Just dance.
Most of the lurkers of /lit/ read the popular books of /lit/ and rate them high. But also rate generic adolescent literature as high as /lit/'s memes. I feel that /lit/'s taste is either bipolar or that many people here have inferiority complexes. This due to the fact that one cannot indulge in the difficult activity of reading "Gravity's Rainbow" and enjoy it, than read "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and give it the same mark that he gave to GR. To clarify, I'm not saying that either of these books are good or bad but that the degree of intellectual maturity required to read them is very different. It would be like rating "Harry Potter" and "The Great Gatsby" the same. Both books aren't that hard to read, but the maturity required to understand the main issues of each book is different. One deals with magic and growing up and the latter with several social, personal and economical problems. It's also very strange how one can one month read James Joyce and in the next month read "Kiss of the Spider Woman". Only someone that tries to like the classics or /lit/'s memes would do this. Only a pretender would try to force himself to like /lit/'s memes and rate them as high as a 5/5.
Another conclusion is that /lit/'s lurkers prefer to meme than to read. If you go to the catalogue you will see a lot of big names like Stirner, C.S. Lewis, Hegel, Zizek and others. But the truth is that barely anyone reads them. Some of us read them, but many meme them.
All this begs the question: who are the petulant assholes who go to every thread accusing others of having a shit taste?
>>7990110
>the difficult activity of reading "Gravity's Rainbow"
Stopped reading.
>>7990112
You're the exact type of people I'm criticizing.
>>7990110
It's not what you read; it's how you read, candy-ass.
What is your favourite 19th century novel and why?
You posted it.
>>7988853
But why though
>reading prose in the golden age of poetry
Really though, I love Pride and Prejudice. Sue me.
Who is your favorite philosopher?
John Stewart Mills
>>7988420
Sam Harris.
Oh, and why?
Post some art or photography that reflects what you want more of in literature and get suggestions.
I'll start: what books are similar in tone and atmosphere to this?
>>7986499
I haven't any suggestions but I just came to post saying that this image leaves me feeling emotionally pained.
>>7986490
Knausgaard's My Struggle because Norway.
By Crom! Steel is strong but flesh is stronger.
Selected stories:
Tower of the Elephant
Red Nails
Beyond the Black River
Old thread >>7981275 → #
>Fantasy
Selected: http://i.imgur.com/3v2oXAY.jpg (embed)
General: http://i.imgur.com/igBYngL.jpg (embed)
Flowchart: http://i.imgur.com/uykqKJn.jpg (embed)
>Sci-Fi
Selected: http://i.imgur.com/A96mTQX.jpg (embed)
General: http://i.imgur.com/r55ODlL.jpg/ http://i.imgur.com/gNTrDmc.jpg (embed)
>What are you reading right now?
>Got any weird tales like those mentioned above?
>Post your favorite Frank Frazetta art
>(embed)
Come on guys, this shit isn't hard
No femshit allowed.
What is the most aromantic and asexual epic fantasy series that currently exists?
Or is this too factual for /lit/?
>>7988666
It's too non-factual for any board.
>>7988687
feel free to point out any factual errors that were present in the book
oh wait you didn't read it and are saying bad things about it because you would rather hold on to your meme ideology and don't have any problems with the facts presented in the books (other than that you disagree with them)? ok
>lemme lay down the basics, my man. the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and that's just the way the world spins. facts are facts. it's common sense!
Do y'all actually hate this guy?
While his prose is sometimes below average, I think he's a pretty talented writer with a masterful grasp of characterization and continuity. His craft is much more sophisticated than that of his genre fiction peers, and despite his blunders his work is pretty damn impressive.
>>7988580
Who is that cutie pie? I would love to put her beard in my special place, if you know what i mean.
Jokes aside: GRR Martin is a very original writer for his genre. He essentially set in motion a revolution on how we understand fantasy worlds and in using them to reveal deep human tensions and motivations, making us examine the rich psychology of his characters in order to better understand his world. He is essentially manipulating us into examining our reasons, through cruelty, cynicism and an exhuberant imagination.
>>7988580
>continuity
disgusting. lots of us hate Gass, so yes, we hate this hack of all hacks. "good at writing genre fiction" equals "wipes his ass neatly after he shits on my mother's grave"
you've wasted years of your valueless life reading him.
>>7988580
>blunders
Which ones?
Do you believe that simpler prose is inherently worse, or that - if done well - simplicity can be as powerful as intricacy?
>>7988402
I'd say that simpler prose is not inherently worse and has the capability of matching and even surpassing complex prose in certain instances, but that it tends to be limited, that the greatest novels are the most ambitious in pushing the limits of prose and able to, in incredible ways, resolve immense prosal complexity.
>>7988402
Also, for beginner to intermediate writers, "simple prose" or "Hemmingway-esque" prose is usually just a nice way of describing stupid, boring, unimaginative prose.
>>7988402
The latter. They are both equally valid ways to communicate.
Books on Marxism, socialism, state capitalism, Che, Cuba, etc?
Is Wheen's biography good?
>>7988152
Marxism is for half-retarded man-children who have no grasp on reality.
Although you may not be that kind of person, please do not fall for the Marxist trap, that shit kills nations.
>>7988165
Hello it is me, ex-Marxist guy. Thank you for curing me of my mental illness with your persuasive comment.
Just picked this up. What am I in for /lit/?
Virginia Woolf is a good author. You're in for good.
>>7987985
a well-written mediocre novel with not-so-subtle racist undertones. Wolfe was a better journalist than he is a novelist. when he's on point, his prose reads wonderfully, when not it's tedious and obnoxious. don't bother with Simmons or Blood, both are dreck.
>>7988104
she's actually garbage lmfao
buddha > nietzsche
just fyi
>>7987951
OP, sorry to burst your bubble of emptiness of mind but Buddha:
Probably never ever existed.
If he did exist, he most probably didn't have half of the supernatural attributes often attributed to him.
Even if he had, that does not make his ethical precepts necessarily real or less arbitrary.
oblomov is the true enlightened one tbqfwyf
Is 26 too old to start a successful writing career?
No, Colonel Sanders funded KFC at 66.
if you need to ask then yes
>>7987729
And he's going to get BTFO by Hillary.
