The Reasonable Mind of the Rational Man

Since the dawn of time, there have been men. These men used their rational mind to make the decisions that allowed rational men like me and you to exist unto this day. And so they reasoned, and were reasonable. Sometimes they did things like kill each other, but only because that seemed like a good idea at the time.

Ergo, to what can we deem the title of a good idea? Well, a good idea is had by a rational man, acting reasonably. Reasonably is to be conceptualized by "for a reason". And he came up with the reason to act because he felt like solving the problem. He felt like it.

Do feelings legitimize truths? No. Truths are true whether or not we feel like they are.

What is reason? My feelings. And what do I feel? I feel what is right. Because I am a reasonable person, who acts rationally. And my rationality is behind the reason. And that is what I feel.

But do we always feel rightly? Any fool can tell you that of course we do not.

Readers, this is why our reason is essentially no reason. Because our reason is a feeling, and our feelings are based on falsehoods. Dignity is one such falsehood. Dignity is definined as The quality or state of being worthy of esteem or respect. But who determines who is worthy? The self. And the self is no judge of one's own value. He is merely a pawn in the game of the government and society.

But if we allow social constructs such as society and the government to judge us, we can have no dignity. And so our imagination allows us to pretend to reason, using our feelings to further the government and being unable to judge ourselves in the light of a world without humans, where nature could remain red, in tooth and claw. And we could still fuck each other man's wife in a pile of blissfully crooning women, rip each other apart with mighty scimitars, and worship the false idols of money, drugs and sex.

I wrote this before my wife had a miscarriage. Before she gave birth to our son, Mortimer. She went into labor on the toilet, and my son's birth was perverted into a pathetic, amorphous glob of blood and cells being dumped into the bowl's cold porcelain embrace. She didn't cry, and sometimes when I drink out of a whiskey bottle I think of breaking it over her head and shaving my genitals with the bloody glass afterward.