A Toy

Keeping decency in mind…A TOY?

What is it? Who is it for? How does it work? and… How is it working out?

I’ve decided that I’m not that interested in finding out those answers, so please ignore the OP.

[size=50]That actually made me laugh aloud[/size]

Okay, I’ve changed my mind (my nature lends itself to this). Don’t be shy. Enlighten me.

The world is a toy if you want it to be. It will probably beat the crap out of you if you do tho [then you are its toy].

A toy is a ploy, to employ energies with no cost/benefit
only to expend what has been gathered with minimal effort, and can be replaced easily

A toy is joy, for a girl and a boy, under parental care, with its future ensured.
it can explore carelessly

But when life and death forces severity a toy is replaced by a tool

such are word in the mouths of babes
toys to fantasize and explore and attract and make friends
with no severe cost/benefit carelessly they play with words as toys
men-children
retarded in their adolescent state
sheltered from a world that would enforce a higher cost to their adolescent exuberance

when seriousness is about survival words become more stringent, less casual
sentences cannot be rearranged to pleasure self with a verbal game
then words like love, humanity, self, value, consciousness are not infinitely adjustable lego-blocks
for shocks and giggles
or to escape the indifference of the world outside our playpens

Philosophy has become a game for such infantile minds
what re animals sheltered and fed, over generations called?
Domesticated.
Yes.
For them words like sex, male/female, homosexual, race, are all part of their game.

Because when it’s about life and death
the toy gives way to the tool
or you are toast
and words are either precise, concise and referring to the apparent, or you are delusional destined for the destined to become food-stuff for those who no longer play games with words.

Pie,

I hate being one toy all alone in a sea of puppets who “think” they’re sentient.

Come to find out that I have been this toy since my birth.
And lately I have been trying to woman up the courage to be responsible for this delusional, world fiasco.
Sell everything! Buy everything! More, more, more, screw the costs, applaud the profits.
I do carry a tool with me, my Hammer of Justice.
But all in all, I don’t need it when I’m on my path. My forked path.
One calls me to my path and many tempt me away from it. They are blind, deaf, dumb…without souls.
It’s horrifying, the weight of understanding such immanent doom.
Still don’t know or rather don’t need to know what I am any longer beyond my toy-dom.
It’s time for me to accept my responsibilities with a calmer fear and a dash of humor.

Only tools you need is a honest, brave mind, with integrity, and the application of words efficiently
In here, the zoo, like out there, where modernity has sheltered mutations form natural culling, words and mind are toys to use to pleasure self, comfort self, escape the world which is indifferent to subjectivity and human contrivances.
Here words are thrown around like children throwing around plastic toys.

Love, Humanity, Race, Sex…it’s all detached and constructed from rubber.
Malleable to the imagination, to be used in any way the child wants to use them.

There’s no severity to their choices, being sheltered minds, infantile psychologies, raised in comfort and certainty under the protection of a parental State that whispers lies to keep its children well-behaved.

Take a child’s toys away, and it will cry, and run to the parent.
It just wants to play with its toys, and have fun and be creative with no great consequences, only endless joy.
This they call philosophy, professing a blind love for it.

Disarm such cowardice, retarded psychologically, by connecting words, referring to noumena, to phenomena, limiting the infantile creativity of fantasy, exploring self with tender fingertips, masturbating.
Harsh love, is true love, before a world that cares not.
Replace plastic swords with blades of steel, though it may cut the child’s hands, at first, learning to take care.

Words connected to reality ends playtime, and children stunted in their development will consider it a personal attack.
So what?
Philosophy is not for children, or a hobby for fun.
It’s object of study is cold, brutal, uncaring, threatening to an organism that needs so much care.

A toy today in the hands of a boy or girl opens the floodgates from which they in some future time “become” what they will.

A lego set ~~ a builder or an architect.
Play clay ~~ the sculptor
Scrabble ~~ the English professor
Operation ~~ doctor or nurse
rock set ~~ geologist
train set - conductor or engineer
duracel bunny ~~ vet

That’s enough.