Alter Ego

Earlier I said here that the ego is poison. It is, but it's a necessary poison. It is the will-to-live of the self-conscious animal. Too much of it leads to constant conflict; too little, the same. Then there is the alter ego, which we usually associate with psychiatric disorders, comic book superheroes or creative types. Since self-consciousness is necessarily never unitary, maybe we should move the alter ego from the margin to the center of our understanding.

Posterior Analytics

Women. Women are beautiful. And that's a problem if you're a bachelor who doesn't want to be bothered. Schopenhauer says that it's just the species trying to replicate itself. Beauty is nothing more than the will-to-live of the species shining through.

Exiting my apartment building this morning on my way to work, an icy fog hanging in the air, I looked across the street and there was a young lady, a trim vision of perfection in high boots, yoga-type tight pants and a pea coat. She was unassuming but stunning. There's something about the hip, posterior, thigh region of a healthy, well-formed woman that positively sings. And Schopenhauer is right; it must be all hard-wiring because the same anatomy on post-menopausal women is usually mute.

I also think the weather plays a role. It has been cold and icy the last week and except for one jog around the park last Saturday I have not run. And when this happens I notice that I become more distracted by women.

Consciousness Without Identity

The ego is poison, but we're stuck with it.  We can't live without it.  It wants to insert itself in every thought we think.  Haecceity.  It has something to do with how the will to live manifests itself.  The sex drive.  The only thing we can do is wrestle with it.  Put it "under erasure," as Derrida says.  Use the I against I.

Consciousness without identity, as Ani DiFranco sings, is the preferred state, but it's tough to get there.