Why has Nietzsche become boring?: The glittering ceased.

Der Mensch ist etwas, überwunden werden soll.

Man is something that must squirm out and over itself.

The group must say, after twenty five years of reading Nietzsche, the young praise of him on this malidapted forum have finally put it all together. Nietzsche is boring…

It’s clear that the notion of the condition of possible experience has been of great importance to thought. However, is this at all comparable to the power of a pill to put one to sleep? A power which Nietzsche daily gains. Knowing that something has that power, one investigates, and develops sleeping pills. This is clearly no empty buffoonery, though, of course, a comic can make things seem ridiculous that are not. The discovery or invention, whereby the notion of potential or power is noticed and then can be studied concerning specific matters is of huge consequence. However, perhaps this is not so of the transcendental philosophy? And yet, isn’t it?

Nietzsche shows us he is basically a buffoon by taking the place of Molliere. A great deal of Nietzsche, it is somehow connected, consists of brandishing plagiarized notions (as if in a picture, with a scratched out name, and in big letter, bellow, overwritten “Fred”), from Schopenhauer or whole phrases as from George Berkeley for instance (the celebrated phrase about the mole for instance), with the stylistic “umph” of a flamboyant tracery around a Fenster, a window, about which he defenistrates himself in self mockery, landing in manure (as in Strindberg’s legend of the toilet’s smell in Miss Julia) and writing under that picture: “ipsissimosity”. As though repeating the others was the most peculiarly characteristic of his brilliance.


αίτίας : “cause”

responsibility, mostly in bad sense, guilt, blame, or the imputation thereof, i.e. accusation

Is it then, that what is mocked, by the comic, he who raises us up, is the image of guilt, of blame, in the last analysis: cause? Mankind, the “faculty” of causation! What was mankind? The one who did not let his gaze fall on the intermezzo scherzando, on the playful middle, on the “is”, which is without guilt. Which is a gift. But, “cogito ergo est” never said, (I) think “therefore” (I) am: as if to say, the subject, thinking, the actor, the volitional, the will, and for that reason “ergo”, I am (the exterior object). Rather, it says: thinking, the ground of existence. Thinking and being are one. Which is to say, never the one without the other, such is their being as time.

Causality, the power of the"why": the “faculty” of “man”…