Tuesday, December 23, 2014

The Law of Contrasts: Torture, Murder, and Pain Prove You Exist

So, why torture? We know it doesn't yield any useful information; even the NYT has expressed that idea. More importantly, though, there is no useful information. Even if you caught the worst of the worst imaginary Muslim-guys, what could he say to which someone could respond? "We are against you!"? "Die, infidel!"?

Or maybe, "The hostages are held in [the foreign country]!" Or, "Our royal vizier is plotting the downfall of the decadent west!"

No, be serious. How about, "The attack comes at midnight!" So what? Like almost all other attacks, it will fail, and its success would only be someone else doing your own work for you. Some hypothetical attack might kill a few drones at the camp perimeter, but that will only further justify the perpetual victimhood of the exceptional, and more of the barbarian's bereaved bloodletting. The attack is only ever good for them. PNAC wanted a new Pearl Harbor, and it got one, and made trillions of dollars while accomplishing a number of other equally important goals. The police state and the banking cartels are stronger now that 9/11 happened, so even if they didn't do it, it was good for them. The last thing they want is to foil real plots.

It's possible--vaguely, potentially possible--that Russia has come out of the cave a little bit, or that China was never fully infiltrated by the moneychangers. Unlikely, but possible. And if so, if so, the only real threat to business could come from there, and no amount of foreshadowing would alter things. We're already on 45 minute schedules with regards to that, and couldn't respond well enough anyway, so there's nothing to be learned.

So, why torture? It doesn't give any real, reliable information, and if it did, that would be bad, because then there'd be less justification for all the other things they want to do, up to and including making money. That applies "domestically" as well as "with regards foreign policy."

And torture's expensive, too, and it's occasionally a little embarrassing, and yes, it makes money, but formalized executions or long imprisonments make more money, so why torture?

One plausible explanation is, it keeps the proles in line. Letting the masses know that there is torture is effective, whether or not there actually is torture, because it ups the ante on anti-farm behavior. Livestock fears torture more than death, and so is more likely to follow directions, laboring away until death gives release, if they know that resistance to directions leads to more severe, rather than less severe, torture. That's a workable theory--that torture is this ridiculous, huge, monstrous expenditure just to keep people in line.

But they could keep people in line anyway. There's plenty of money to be made anyway. Torture as a veiled threat against the livestock is probably a part of it, but many of the power brokers we have are, probably, focused on torture for a different reason: it helps them sleep at night.

Think of the Law of Contrasts: stupid, weak entities are unable to process concepts except by relation to other concepts. Music, say, is not beautiful to a creature like Bush or Obama, unless they can compare it to other, less-favorable music. Green is not green unless they can compare green to blue. Any given item of food is not tasty unless they can compare it to other, lesser food.

And so on. Many of the mentally crippled horrors doing all these terrible things are doing them not because said actions are actually efficient at producing wealth, or power, or sustainable pleasure, but rather, because they need to create opposites in order for their simplified brains, their pitiful senses of "self," to be validated into existence.

Without killing people, Bush isn't sure that he, or anyone else, is truly alive. He needs those deaths to happen, and he needs to be aware of them, to savor them, for otherwise, he can't feel reassured that he actually exists. Without starving people, Obama doesn't feel he has truly eaten; without starving millions of children in Africa, and having them murdered by warlords, he isn't sure that his own children are being fed; isn't sure that they're even still alive. He kills because he has to--because it proves that he, and the few people he dimly accepts as real, are still alive.

The power-mad retarded class can't retire into obscurity and enjoy their phenomenal wealth because they have no inherent sense of worth or dignity. They have so many piles of money they could spend their lives being with their children/grandchildren, connecting to God, meditating, learning languages, eating out, fondling escorts, reading books, watching movies, going to plays, engaging in any learning or creative endeavor you could imagine--but that wouldn't feel real to them, so instead of running on the beach and immersing themselves in creative wonders, they try to create misery in order to prove that they exist.

...and to prove that they enjoy it. These fragile, flickering creatures have such inhuman expressions on their wax faces because they aren't really sure that they exist. They sneak away to "play golf" when they're supposed to be working not because they enjoy golf, but because golf is a ritual they've seen others use to prove that they're Actually Playing, in contrast to Actually Working. Golf defines the work they did in the way that the work they did defines the golf they played; in the way that the rituals of a funeral can help less-developed minds "come to terms" with something they already know, but don't actually know; haven't actually processed to its full extent.

So too torture. Biden doesn't enjoy sitting in a chair with his family or friends; he might as well be a computer program. The only thing that can make him feel, feel a flicker of genuine existence, is if he can know, truly know, that he has helped to have some little Arab kid beaten to death in a black pit far away. By contemplating that, he can achieve a moment of conscious enjoyment. He's too underdeveloped to appreciate the sensation of the chair on its own, the warmth of the room, the feeling of togetherness, the thought and smell of supper to come; he requires the contrasting example of homeless people freezing, old people starving, outcasts pitched into solitary confinement: without these things, he doesn't feel anything. His own good health is imperceptible to him unless others are racked by pain and illness, for he can only understand what he has by comparing it to those who have something different.

When Obama has people waterboarded or sexually abused, he feels at last like he can breathe; like he enjoys being with Michelle. The lack of control he imposes on his victims makes Obama feel, for a little while, like he's in control of the hunk of cells surrounding the space where he sees and hears things. When he murders children, he feels that he is raising his own, by defining the contrasting reality of his kids' lives to those of the faraway babies whom he has turned into rotting cherry cobbler; when he immiserates Americans, he feels, for just a moment, that he has become an American. For a second's glimpse, he knows what it is like to have an identity, and to have possessions, because his simple mind can now see others losing their identities and their possessions. Suddenly, he recognizes the difference between him and them; suddenly, but for only a moment, he knows what is like to be rich.

And then the feeling fades. The beating has been administered; the body has been cremated and buried at sea. And Obama needs another high, so he orders a drone strike, dimly remembering what it was like last week when he felt something. He was alive, then. How powerfully he would like to be alive, again.

In the twisted nether of his mind, Obama actually thinks he's "serving" the people he hurts and kills, because he figures that, by contrasting his own extravagance and comfort, he's validating the reality of their own existences. Too evil and broken to recognize his own existence, he doesn't see his victims as real people, when they shriek in agony over the baby he murdered this morning. Instead, he thinks, "By filling my role, I am contrasting with them. Therefore, if they are real, they are benefiting just as much from me as I am from them."

Psychiatry has failed in its take on psychopathology and related disorders, assuming too often that the lack of empathy for others results--per the Law of Contrasts--in an inflated sense of self. Most of the time, it's actually the opposite: the Dick Cheneys of the world, defined by their ogrish lack of humanity, are as emotionally inert as rocks, unable to appreciate quite how grand they are without the constant reminder of how different their grandness is in comparison to others.

Without that contrast, they wouldn't enjoy it. Stunted murderers like Barack Obama would not be happy in a peaceful world filled with love, hyperabundant resources, and every imaginable pleasure, because their retarded minds could not process it as real. They need--so very, very desperately--to be surrounded by misery, and a lot of it, in order to be able to distinguish their own selves from inert matter. That's why they play golf; it's why they buy so many fancy cars they don't care about, while reveling in the comparatively lower condition of so much of the rest of the world. They love to throw themselves into temporary "reliefs" for poverty, to take an awareness of the suffering of others, for the visualization and perpetuation of that suffering is the only means by which they achieve their own brief ecstasies; their own instances of feeling a shadow of life. How jealous, how angry they are, with those people who can feel these things on their own--people who want to eliminate the source of their pleasure by removing the misery that allows them to define themselves.

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