Let us not be ungrateful to it, although it must certainly be confessed that the worst, the most tiresome, and the most dangerous of errors hitherto has been a dogmatist error–namely, Plato’s invention of Pure Spirit and the Good in Itself. But now when it has been surmounted, when Europe, rid of this nightmare, can again draw breath freely and at least enjoy a healthier–sleep, we, WHOSE DUTY IS WAKEFULNESS ITSELF, are the heirs of all the strength which the struggle against this error has fostered. It amounted to the very inversion of truth, and the denial of the PERSPECTIVE–the fundamental condition–of life, to speak of Spirit and the Good as Plato spoke of them; indeed one might ask, as a physician: “How did such a malady attack that finest product of antiquity, Plato? Had the wicked Socrates really corrupted him? Was Socrates after all a corrupter of youths, and deserved his hemlock?” But the struggle against Plato, or–to speak plainer, and for the “people”–the struggle against the ecclesiastical oppression of millenniums of Christianity (FOR CHRISTIANITY IS PLATONISM FOR THE “PEOPLE”), produced in Europe a magnificent tension of soul, such as had not existed anywhere previously; with such a tensely strained bow one can now aim at the furthest goals.
Beyond Good and Evil
Author: a solitary
madness
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music
Friedrich Nietzsche
epithet?
…, the obscure.
…, the grumpy.
…, the weird (or strange).
…, the weeping solitary.
memories …
Where are my memories when I am not using them?
And how do I know what to remember when?
it is over …
The Anchorage experiment is over. There is no room in the modern Anglican Church of Australia for the solitary life. All about survival, so all about money.
right now
I am sitting on the porch (for the last time?!), drinking a beer before noon, reading Nietzsche, lamenting my broken toe. How is your day?

life?

So … again … I have not posted for a week or so. I have been asked to leave my current house, so I have packed my books, clothes, and furniture (three kneelers). I knew it was coming. But I cannot help but be disappointed. I am blessed to have a place to which I can move and the love and care of a parent. Plans are set!
Today is a day of rest. Emotionally, this is all too much for me. People are a disappointment. Maybe not people, but the idea that an institution is above an individual!? Conform!!!
I am reading Nietzsche. A strange mixture (for me) of the reality of my life and the inspiration of madness. Whatever happened to madness? Where are the books of aphorisms? Who is speaking the ideas that are way ahead of their time?
Anyway …
Fourde’s Remains
I have been coming to a resolution that, as soon as I am out of reach of observation, I will begin a sort of monastic austere life, and do my best to chastise myself before the Lord. That I will attend chapel regularly, eat little and plainly, drink as little wine as I can consistently with the forms of society: keep the fasts of the Church as much as I can without ostentation: continue to get up at six in the winter: abstain from all unnecessary expenses in every thing: give all the money I can save in charity, or for the adorning of religion. . . . I will avoid society as much as I can. . . . I will avoid all conversation on serious subjects . . . and content myself with exercising dominion over my own mind, without trying to influence others. (25–26)
quoted in
Reforming the Monastery
time …

Today is the celebration of The Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It is also the liturgical celebration of the anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood. (That is, the secular date is different due to moving of the feast past Holy Week and Easter that year.)
What is time? God measures time by the rising and the setting of the sun. As a person in this world – not my home – I am ruled by mechanical time. Yes, if I want the doctor to see me, I need to be at their office at a particular time. But to what extent is time simply an abstraction forced on me by my being alive? And, to what extent is it an abstraction that rules my life?
Anyway, happy anniversary to me and blessed feast to you all.
… with my books

I do not need the money – I do it for free. Can I bring my books? BCP!
