Nietzsche: Great Toilet Reading
Wednesday, March 25th, 2009





Years ago when I was trying to pull myself out of white trash Northern Virginian existence to a DC hipster delusion, I found myself in a bar in
Though I was creative and charismatic enough to bullshit my way around the DC indie rock subculture I always felt that if I let my guard down for one second my southern accent would return and the charade would be up: “we found you out boy, back to
[To those who know me personally, this is where that strange and sudden insecurity comes from.]
More on this later, back to
She asked me if I was getting into any particular authors lately. In the social position I was in at the time, I was just barely learning to think for myself at all. I wasn’t doing things like “getting into any particular authors” I was mainly concerned with making sure my language usage, fashion and attitude mimicked those that I wanted to be around. I had fallen in love with DC culture and wanted to be apart of it and for some reason I felt compelled to be around rich or middle class people with some education and a desire to wear gas station worker jackets when they didn’t have to.
At that moment in my self education I had just bought a Nietzsche anthology and when she asked me what authors I was into I just blurted out his stinking name: Nietzsche. She started to laugh politely and I asked, “Are you a fan?” and she replied, “I might read him for a laugh while taking a shit.” Wow, who knew!
So fast forward to a few hours ago; I was having my morning coffee, cigarette and then planning my daily massive shit and I arbitrarily chose between that big Emerson book and that old Nietzsche book on the bookcase. The first page I turned to on the shit-pot—I’m not making this up—was this:
“The Labor question. — The stupidity — at bottom, the degeneration of instinct, which is today the cause of all stupidities — is that there is a labor question at all. Certain things one does not question: that is the first imperative of instinct. I simply cannot see what one proposes to do with the European worker now that one has made a question of him. He is far too well off not to ask for more and more, not to ask more immodestly. In the end, he has numbers on his side. The hope is gone forever that a modest and self-sufficient kind of man, a Chinese type, might here develop as a class: and there would have been reason in that, it would almost have been a necessity. But what was done? Everything to nip in the bud even the preconditions for this: the instincts by virtue of which the worker becomes possible as a class, possible in his own eyes, have been destroyed through and through with the most irresponsible thoughtlessness. The worker was qualified for military service, granted the right to organize and to vote: is it any wonder that the worker today experiences his own existence as distressing — morally speaking, as an injustice? But what is wanted? I ask once more. If one wants an end, one must also want the means: if one wants slaves, then one is a fool if one educates them to be masters.”
What an honest statement from a clearly sadistic (and for me) useless mind! But I kind of dig it. I wish Lou Dobbs would get on the air and just be so fucking direct, (or Obama for that matter!)
You do know that you’re a slave…right?
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In somewhat related news I and everyone else in “my” company just met a raise and bonus freeze coupled with a 6% salary reduction. Yippee!
!!!
When I first had this thought, I was nervous that I had become a paranoid conspiracy theorist. I had this suspicion that the current “financial crisis” was in some way manufactured. I don’t feel paranoid or incorrect anymore. This is a step in the right direction. American workers are going through a Structural Adjustment Program
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New essay? It’s coming. Most of you that come through here are writers, amateur writers (like me) or friends. From the “writers” portion of you, you know the creative process: you start writing what you think you want to say and then something else comes out…what you really want to say and write!
It’s turned from my usual bombast and word-games to something I’ve not tried yet: sincerity. If I can pull it off it should be pretty freaking beautiful. Wish me luck and grace. I wish everyone the same.



