Lying
I haven’t read a great many of Friedrich Nietzsche’s books, but something has been bugging me. Perhaps it’s pondering that built within any exertion of power is a comparable resistance. I’m wondering if that’s why the same man could write these lines. While I’m all for sexual power, it really bothers me when it comes in the form of assertions like this:
The degree and kind of a man’s sexuality reach up into the ultimate pinnacle of his spirit.
Black dress and a silent part make every woman appear— smart.
If I believe the first assertion, the second (and many others) lead me to believe that this philosopher has a very poor spirit. Rather than a pinnacle, he’s in negative territory and digging to China. Of course, I have to watch myself from going too far in the other direction. I constantly suppress the urge to think that every woman I meet is much smarter than I am. I think it has something to do with the lack of understanding I feel I suffer from; it’s mysterious territory for me. I have discovered that besides whatever rhetorical or artistic skills I might have, I have an uncanny ability to piss women off. If that’s a gift, I’d like to give it back.
However, I am drawn to this passage from Nietzsche. I suspect it is truer than most people would admit. We’re all artists, in an important respect:
Just as little as a reader of today reads all of the individual words (let alone the syllables) on a page— rather he picks about five words at random out of twenty and “guesses” at the meaning that probably belongs to these five words— just as little as we see a tree exactly and completely with reference to leaves, twigs, color, and form; it is very so much easier for us to simply improvise some approximation of a tree. Even in the midst of the strangest experiences we still do the same: we make up the major part of these experience and can scarcely not be forced to contemplate some event as its “inventors.” All this means: basically and from time immemorial we are— accustomed to lying. Or to put it more virtuously and hypocritically, in short, more pleasantly: one is much more of an artist than one knows.
I have absolutely no clue why dressing in black and remaining silent is a prerequisite for women appearing smart to Nietzsche. I read all the words. They still make no sense. Maybe it’s meant to be taken as a lie— I hope so.
One of the terrible mistakes we make is that assuming that smarts carry across all categories.
There is much about Nietzche to admire, even if (like many of his era and, alas, ours) he was a hopeless idiot about women.
It’s also wise for us to self-examine, to see if we can spot where we falsely believe our competence or skills in one area ensure our ability in another. I’m more than averagely guilty of that last offence.
FN had problems with women, this is no secret. Mostly otherwise, he reads like an acerbic stand-up comic, someone with a sharp & bent mind (seems so to me anyway) … I’ve never felt comfortable w/ some of his stuff, however.
As for women wearing black and silence: of course it’s sexy. (This combo works when a man does it too.) Sometimes. Obvious is not sexy. If that’s the only sexual persona I’m allowed, as a woman, or human, period, then it’s a drag. Personally, I kind of like things that send double signals — cheesy & sexy (like your hot tub photo), or mum/recalcitrant/shy & radiating focused energy, or boisterous/goofy & soulfully charming … tension potentiates attention. As long as you’re not in the presence of a poseur.
As for pissing people off, well … you might look for another place to fish, or something.
As for the Girl from Mars photo: Wow: Thanks for the eye candy.
As for being alive: Happy reading & writing & sexing!