What holds me in common to the patriot and to the housewife?A factor that is called the 'external loci of identity'. I should start by putting myself into perspective here. Last night, rambling through Aarey's isolation under the light from the full moon, I felt myself outside of my body. It wasn't an otherworldy experience; however it did make evident a fact that solves a few things, and gives me a catchphrase to kill the others with. Neither was the experience of a paranormal kind, but a psychological one. It explains my association with the nature, or with humanity, and my dissociation with myself.
Every tree that sways every flower that blooms - a mental imagery of a flower with petals and crimson core comes into my head - is an element of me. If you like flowers I like you.
In similar ways, if you take notice of that dog/boy along the road i like you.
If you show sympathy to that dog/boy along the road i like you even more.
If you help out that dog/boy along the road I love you.
You kiss nature, you kiss an element that makes me. UTAHRAPTOR, PROXY SEX!
A patriot extends his own identity into his country. Patriotism is a mental condition. No wonder why Einstein called patriotism the "measles of mankind".
Uncyclopedia takes a few jabs at the phenomenon:
“By far the best reason for and against war"- Oscar Wilde
"Patriotism is communicable through the auditory ingestion of feces. Contamination often occurs from politicians, entrepreneurs, country music singers, Richard Albinger and French Emperors."
And the housewife...how could we forget...a housewife sees her identity in her husband. That is why marriages are/seem brutal. They are a socially approved injection of a mental condition.
It is the same for a child who sees the world in everything but him/herself. Childhood is like a mental arrest into external locii of identity. Growing up might be all about therapy that helps you bring that identity back into you
individualism is also something on similar lines, is it?
I've been feeling fissile today. I've had Radiohead's "The Gloaming" on my lips since yesterday, often faulting at the 'murderers...' line.
Something that could apply to most of the geographical boundary conflicts
So much blood for such a little home
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