wahai orang-orang yang jahil!

 

kuasa …

 

satu arang batu membara yang ku genggam kuat di dalam tanganku;

perit, tapi ku tahan.

 

satu sumpah yang puas ku cari merata-rata di bumi ini;

khianat, tapi ku sanggup lakukan demi kebahagiaan.

 

satu idaman golongan yang fakir dan jahil;

neraka, itulah hadiah ku untuk sesiapa yang cuba merampasnya dari diriku.

 

kuasa …

 

akan ku hidupkan mimpi-mimpiku;

akan ku jadikan mimpi-mimpiku sebagai mimpi-mimpimu;

akan ku kaburi matamu dengan banyangan perkara-perkara yang indah

kerana aku boleh.

 

kuasa …

 

tidak perlu ku memaksamu untuk mempercayai dusta-dustaku;

tidak perlu ku mengajakmu berpihak denganku;

tidak perlu ku menyuruhmu sama-sama membenci musuh-musuhku

kerana kau akan tunduk dan setia kepada diriku.

 

kesetiaan yang berpihak kepada kuasa adalah satu kesetiaan yang utuh

yang membuat manusia sepertimu tidak peduli

apabila ku coreng muka-muka Si Jahanam gelojoh

yang ingin merampas kuasa dari dalam genggaman tanganku.

 

takkan kau bantah menyoal apabila ku menghinanya dan kerabat-kerabatnya

bila ku menutup periuk nasinya dan menzalimi anak-cucunya;

 

kerana kau tahu

kau setia, kau percaya kepadaku, kau kagum.

 

tetapi aku tahu

kau takut kepadaku, kepada kekuasaanku, dan kemungkinan besar akan kau ku binasakan juga.

 

… Ya Allah!

apakah salahku?!

apakah dosaku?!

apakah yang telah terjadi?!

 

sekelip mata ku dalam keghairahan

arang batu yang membara di dalam tanganku hilang!

hilang begitu saja walaupun tapak tanganku masih perit kesakitan.

 

di mana kuasaku itu?

yang ku genggam kuat tadi?

ke manakah ia?

 

persetan! ia di dalam genggaman Si Janaham itu! neraka kan ku buatnya!

 

chicken or egg?

 

a rabbi once said: “part of the process we call modernity – most obviously associated with the European Enlightenment – was to call into question the salience of almost everything associated with the word ‘religion’.”

 

as a proponent of religion, and one who is a self-appointed culprit hunter, one wonders if the ultimate death of religion in Europe (oh, get over it. religion is dead in Europe. adulterers are fornicating in churches) should be blamed on the Enlightenmenists or ~ the Church. a tough one. a chicken-and-egg.

 

did the Church go mad with corruption and hierarchy to the extent that it drove people up-the-wall outraged? ~ subsequently, creating the right environment for the Enlightenment movement to emerge? or did a bunch of pagan gypsies who had fantastic propaganda skills come up with the Enlightenment campaign? ~ subsequently, deconstructing religion as a social institution?

 

a chicken-and-egg, indeed. surely it’s got to be either one. someone has to be blamed for the collapse of religion in Europe. and it sure ain’t Bono. or technology. so who’re we going to kill?!

 

be cool

 

W : i read your previous entry, the letter to the Pope.

 

S : uhuh.

 

W : i’m half Catholic, you know.

 

S : uhuh. yea … i know.

 

W : are you calling me a Jew?! you f***ing anti-semitic! i’ll f***ing kill you! i’ll put you in a car and make you drive to the synagogue and i’ll follow you by helicopter, and when you get there i’ll press the remote control and blow up all the explosives i planted in the trunk of the car. that way we can both be happy. i get to kill you and you get to be an anti-semitic suicide-bomber hero.

 

S : no, i didn’t call you a Jew.

 

W : oh …

 

S : uhuh.

 

W : so, why would you want Womack to be a saint?

 

S : because he’s f***ing brilliant.

 

W : then why not Tarantino? he’s brilliant.

 

S : he’s White.

 

W : so what?! you f***ing saying i can’t be a saint too then? cause i’m f***ing White, is that it?!

 

S : be calm, yo. you’re gay.

 

W : oh, no f***ing way! i know you didn’t! you did not say that ‘g’ word! oh, hells no!

 

S : will you shut the f*** up already! i don’t give a f***ing shit if you’re gay or White or Jew. you’re a f***ing genius, man! what does it matter if you were all that other stuff? you come up with f***ing fantastic theories and ~ i mean, do you even f***ing know that you’re probably the only philosopher whose unfinished, messed-up, untested works give people a sense of high, like their on f***ing coke or something?! that you have a f***ing following way cooler than Huntington and Rais?! you didn’t rock the philosophy world like Russell did and you go around talking like Humpty Dumpty, but people, eventhough they don’t f***ing get what you’re really trying to say, still f***ing love you, man! the rest of us have to f***ing work like dogs in this bourgeois world only never to be happy. no matter what the f*** we do, noone will remember us because we’re not you!!! so really, shut the f*** up and stop playing this language-game shit on me, man!

 

W: oh …

 

21st century guide to ridiculously good music

 

“i … i’m way more fly than you …”

 

if Picasso wrote this song, he would call it ~ Fly. shit. good thing he’s dead. he’d never make it in this gangster world.

 

we live in an age where things don’t need to make sense. the title of your song doesn’t have to match what you say in it. so when you tell someone in your song that you’re more fly than him, you name your song Earthquake. i guess this is what they call post-modernism? f*ck-all, right?

 

i’m just saying, man … you have to keep with the times. ever heard of post-structuralism? well, look it up. now. when Marques Houston sings Pop That Booty he’s not asking you to be a suicide bomber. when Yung One, DMX and Lil’ Flip shouts out Tear It Up, don’t go doing something stupid to yourself. Kelis’ Milkshake isn’t what you think it is. and the “b-a-n-a-n-a-s” in Holla Back isn’t the fruit.

 

i’ll tell you what’s a good song. And Then What.

 

damn, that’s a good song. makes you miss home.

 

wo sind sie, Wittgenstein?

 

… i mean, what the hell is an existentialist sufi anyway?! goddamnit … but they sounded so convincing. that’s what i like about people like them, they talk a lot of convincing crap.

 

but why though? why am i attracted to big-word bullshitters? why do i fall for those who reminisce about “milk cartons back in the day”? it doesn’t matter that milk cartons haven’t changed a bit in its philosophy since Genesis, what’s important is that i like people who romanticize about the past. sometimes even if the past never happened. just to know that they’re romantic b*stards is enough to make me like them. why? why? why?

 

hjelp oss Gud!