How Do U Sew In Weave

leave some of the judgments and prejudices HL Mencken, that Dardón Yussel versions, published in the journal Critical in number 142 (March-April 2011).

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Noting that the rose smells better than the cabbage, the idealist also supposed to make a tastier soup.

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When someone points out that four is twice two, the metaphysical question what we mean by double, two, three and four. In exchange for such questions, the metaphysical living in luxury Asian universities and are respected as educated and intelligent men.

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In the history of humanity is the history of a happy philosopher, exists only in romantic legend. Many philosophers have committed suicide, others drove from home to their children and beat their wives. And this is not surprising. If you want to discover who feels a philosopher while practicing his profession, going to the zoo and see closer to an ape devoted to the tedious and useless task of removing fleas. Both suffer from a horrible and none of them can succeed.

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Progress is the evolution by which the human race is being waged in facial hair, tail and God.

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The demonstration serves a heretic when he reveals, his blasphemy that this or that idol is vulnerable. Who else did for the liberation of the mind were those cynics who threw dead cats into sanctuaries and then feasted on the roads, proving to all men that the skepticism, after all, is safe, that God is mounted on The altar is a fraud. A laugh is worth ten thousand syllogisms.

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lives so that you can hold the gaze of anyone to send him to hell.

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Hopefully, the Man is an animal incomplete and imperfect in the sense that, so to speak, the cockroach is, since when has a valuable quality usually not otherwise. Give brain and lacks heart, a heart otórguenle up to four liters of blood pumping and your head will contain perhaps half a liter. 90 percent of the time the artist is a liar capable of conquering virgins. The Patriot is a bigot and fanatic, most of the time, a smug and a coward. Often Hobro physical force is, from an intellectual standpoint, at the height of a priest. The intellectual giant worthless and unable to thread a needle.

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One hypothesis favorite Puritans monks who specialize in pornography, is that if you repress the sexual instinct, it can be "sublime" as they say, assuming the form of aesthetic idealism. This hypothesis appears in all his books and sits on her theory that if a vast army of spies, informers and guardians of chastity imposed on the whole, the Republic would become a community of moral aesthetes. Sure, there are lying self-righteous. If the hypothesis were true, all great artists have come from the ranks of spinsters and bachelors, but as everyone knows, the truth is that artists Notable are never Puritans and seldom are respectable, in the ordinary sense of the word. Moral no man has ever painted a picture that deserves to be seen, or written a symphony that deserves to be heard, or written a book that deserves to be read.

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If the authors work in factories as seamstresses or tobacco, with people around and entertained by a storm of gossip, their work would be much lighter. But it is vital to his art practice their boring and tedious maneuvers a capella, and therefore the isolation adds to the limitation of trial and other diseases. An author is active continuously and inevitably in the presence of himself. Nothing can distract and soothe. Every time he attacks remorse, the author is taken by the ear, and every time a casual idea down your leg, pain shake it like a tiger bite. I have not found an author who is not a hypochondriac. With the exception of physicians, and patients living in fear of death, the writers are perhaps the most frequent consumers of pills available in the world. I could say that I do not remember any, among those I know in person, not living stuffing themselves with drugs. Obviously
not there, even among the intelligentsia , men suffering from similar storms. If the presiding judge ringing in the ears, may perform their functions as well as if you only heard the slick lawyers. A stomach ache does not disable the priest who runs his deception: what it says has been said before by others and only contradict the cynics. And the surgeon's ability to exercise his art does not stop when they raided the bizarre idea that the nurse is more valuable than his wife. But I challenge anyone to write a good sonnet while ringing in the ears, to draw up a coherent critique as it hurts the stomach, or build a love scene with valuable head full of personal erotic fantasies. These are problems without salvation. And poor writer stumbles upon them, and others of his kind, every time he goes into his study and his wings. Just close the door, keep your body and mind a battle depressing and hopeless.
Why, then, men and women with common sense, are devoted to this office so tiring? Recall, in fact, some authors with some intelligence and some politicians, and even bishops, relatively honest. What that change away from work writing for less harmful and, according to their similar, less respectable? I think one explanation is that the writer, like any other of the "artists" is a subject in which the normal vanity of all men is overgrown to the point that it can not control it. The irresistible impulse that motivates him is to hover around their colleagues, flapping and screaming to challenge them. Because the governments of all civilized countries prohibit such demonstrations of vanity, the writer vents his screams transporting the paper. This is called "self-expression."
course, in evidence, the writers always tell this momentum as something more "sensitive" and "noble", arguing that drives the desire and need to spread the "ideas" and "save the world", or show that what drives them is the "passion for beauty." Just read a bit to understand that in nine out of ten authors writers have so little beauty and so little evidence of sensitivity to beauty, and decoration of a nightclub. Indeed, it is quite rare to find in a writer's desire to create beauty, and it is almost impossible to find in the young, if to some extent it implies, seems to be an afterthought. The desire to earn money and it has higher priority follows that of being noticed. The desire to reach the beautiful place in another direction. The literati, as a class, are insensitive to beauty, and this is reflected in his usual ignorance of the other arts. I'm hard-pressed to find six or six poets novelists able to explain the difference between a Gothic cathedral and a service station of the Standard Oil. & NbspThe
thing goes much further. In my experience most novelists do not know anything about poetry and poets too few perceive the charm of the prose. As playwrights, most alien to the existence of fiction and poetry. It saddens me to reveal these data as annoying and uncomfortable, but if you were hiding honorable, my act atribúyase scientific passion. Today, this passion has taken me by the ear.