Irony is Dead

Irony is Dead

Irony is dead, folks. Like everything once beautiful, after it has been shoved through the mouth of the mediocrity mill to come out the ass-end as pop culture, it ends up useless and castrated, limping along as we continue to beat everything out of it until it collapses. This mule has collapsed. Nothing is provocative anymore. Sarcasm is almost a language. Breast and penises and gory imagery of countless bloody deaths whisk past our faces on our television screens and we don’t even blink an eye. Hell, most of it is even pretty good programming, but is nonetheless a sign that culture will go to any length to keep us interested in it. Anything to maintain the charade.

The gadfly has nowhere to go, nothing to sting; and he always ends up becoming too dependent on that which he has always attacked, always remaining but a parasite to a larger host. Charity, and that old institution of once Christian but now corporate alms-giving, is but an institution of the same problem it seeks to end, and does nothing but give someone the false sense of making a difference as if the transaction of money was the key to change. Billionaires are seen as philanthropists if they give a little back of the money they’ve already taken. Religious sectarianism only grows stronger when it is always on the lips and tongues of the anti-religious. Racism, bigotry and xenophobia reaches new heights when it is always nailed to the cross for all to see by the politically correct. Crowd enthusiasm and indignation only grows under the ever tightening grip of the corporatism that seeks control over them. The fiends of natural resources race head-first into a species-ending wall. Humanists render us inhuman through their constant plights of equality, generalizing that which can never be generalized. Scientists peddle physics and priests peddle the bible—all a great political sermon and campaign for funds and public awareness. Philosophy is now the philosophy of philosophy, the rendering of itself useless. The revolution is lost—the mob’s idea of a democratic discussion is an all out free-for-all in the public square, doing nothing to upset the status quo save for defacing public property and urinating in public. Education makes us stupid. People seek warmth and humanity in the cold stare of machines. The proletariat loves being the proletariat, always having the human resource and power to flip the switch at any time, but never ever doing so, becoming their own aristocrats. The contrarian is now a complimentarian. Everything is business as usual.

W.W.S.D? What would Socrates do? Better yet—what would the mad Socrates, the greatest gadfly, the dog philosopher, Diogenes the Cynic...what would he do?

Alexander the Great once said if he was not Alexander, he should like to be Diogenes the Cynic. Only such a philosopher as him, an impoverished former slave, could make a king such Alexander the Great see true power, with pure honesty. Diogenes is a literal Oscar the Grouch, having lived his life in a giant pot heckling those who passed. Once when Alexander stood over Diogenes as he lay suntanning in the Craneum, Alexander said, “Ask of me any boon you like,” to which Diogenes politely replied, “Get out of my light.” Alexander loved it. And only a brilliant gadfly could make one of the most powerful men in history get such a kick out of his own charade. He saw Alexander as he was—a man. Alexander knew that anyone who sees ideology for what it is cannot fear it. All he could do was laugh at himself.

In this day and age, with a culture built on thousands of years of platonic philosophy of the Christian sort, the sort that has led us all into a kind of social solipsism, idealism and ideology, where since we are the center of every experience we’ve ever had, we believe we are the center of the entire universe, or angels, or eternally powerful beings, we need a Diogenes the Cynic to wipe his dirty feet all over Plato’s carpets, all over Plato’s vainglory, as he had actually done more than a millennia ago. Only this sort of person can hold the frightening mirror to our faces, let us see our ugliness in all its ironic beauty, and make us laugh and love him.

Where is Diogenes today? Where is our mad Socrates?

Look to your comedians. They are the last rock under which the cynic still renders his philosophy today, and the last bastion of irony. In fact, they are the only accessible philosophers around anymore actually practicing philosophy, as most are out there somewhere swimming in jargon, or worse, swimming in platitudes and old-wives tales, or simply perverting some already perverted religion into something worse and calling it philosophy. Nothing ever changes because of it. It is all wisdom without wisdom. It is all irony under the guise of truth, crystallizing into vanity where it dies, taking its last form in the corpse of utter hypocrisy.

Irony is ironic because it is an attempt to tell a truth without telling the truth. Consequently, it is how most people continue their lives, as they live solipsistically in what they think, and rarely in what they actually are. They cannot see beyond their own irony. They think they are Alexander the Great instead of just Alexander. They can only ever wish they were a Diogenes, or an angel, or a celebrity, or rich, but only because they do not wish to be themselves. Even from within the armor of humor, they will not face the truth. Irony is honesty; and irony is dead.

Thank you for reading,

LesMis

originally posted by: LesMisanthrope

Irony is Dead

Irony is dead, folks. Like everything once beautiful, after it has been shoved through the mouth of the mediocrity mill to come out the ass-end as pop culture, it ends up useless and castrated, limping along as we continue to beat everything out of it until it collapses. This mule has collapsed. Nothing is provocative anymore. Sarcasm is almost a language. Breast and penises and gory imagery of countless bloody deaths whisk past our faces on our television screens and we don’t even blink an eye. Hell, most of it is even pretty good programming, but is nonetheless a sign that culture will go to any length to keep us interested in it. Anything to maintain the charade.

Pop culture eats everything like a vampire; sucks and spits out mediocrity (a grinding wheel) that takes the essence of "discrimination of phrase or of expressing subtle thoughts existing in language (beautiful in description if aware of its innate ability to describe the most delicate of emotions descriptions of events or landscape/memory) into a polymorphus soup/stew, "R U OK" isms. Text messaging that only allows 120 characters, who bothers with those constraints (too many!! really only need 20) as its not even perceived as a hindrance; its all becoming shorthand writing. Sarcasm is the Worst base negative low; above it riding high is Irony, Sardonicism and Satire. Who knows the difference anymore? Is there a program here at hand; besides the fact that the long term schema of 'dumbing down the populace' is working right under their noses; every generation changes (used to be 10 year decades, now its every five years time is speeding up). All that was practical knowledge was replaced by apps doing the work/thinking for you; something like a handheld calculator (What's that), what is long division? What will this forum look like in 20 years; those using it used to shorthand text messaging expressing deep contemplative thoughts such as this conversation: "Ware U B 2nite?" "WhAA? did U say?" "meet 4 2nite?" "No 2moro after Yearbook".

Irony isn't dead. It's merely snoozing.

Forgive me if I don't pull my hair or rip my clothes asunder in mourning. On that note, you may want to give Voltaire's Candide another go so that you may come to terms with your grief. After all, we must cultivate our philosphical garden every once in a while.

a reply to: LesMisanthrope
That is the most IRONIC thing that I have ever read. Good job!

Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you
Life has a funny, funny way of helping you out
Helping you out

a reply to: LesMisanthrope
Yes! Thanks!
Love reading and considering your views & thoughts...frustrating, though they may be.

a reply to: vethumanbeing
Thanks for your thoughts, TOO...
Always love to consider your insights & views.

a reply to: WanDash
Hey Wan, G 2 hr Frum U!

D/P wsnt clr Enuff

a reply to: vethumanbeing
Thanks!
As Always - U2!

originally posted by: Fuzzy Wabbit
Irony isn't dead. It's merely snoozing.

Forgive me if I don't pull my hair or rip my clothes asunder in mourning. On that note, you may want to give Voltaire's Candide another go so that you may come to terms with your grief. After all, we must cultivate our philosphical garden every once in a while.

On that note, I'm going to pull out "The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe" and begin with "Murders in the Rue Morgue" (something about an orangutan getting loose from a sailor winding up in someone's Physical Garden goes through a bolted window (HOW) and there you go). Lots of words to read and put together (as I am reading them into making sense). (I love Candide just as much as I do its original author).

a reply to: vethumanbeing

Well said. It is happening at an alarming rate. It seems that many are embracing their technology at the cost of their biology. They become a parody of themselves quite quickly.

a reply to: Fuzzy Wabbit

Irony is no Cunégonde worth my time.

a reply to: LesMisanthrope

It's not really dead, it's creeping in the shadows. If you take a deep breath and put your pride aside, you can still have clandestine meetings.
My friend was sent home from work last week with a head injury. The health and safety manual fell off a shelf and clonked him on the head. It was too big you see, too many sections and rules...

originally posted by: LesMisanthrope
They become a parody of themselves quite quickly.

Now that's irony....

Where is Diogenes today?

Masturbating.

a reply to: GetOutOfMyLight

Masturbating.

Disturbing mental image, but true.

I think his reasoning was we rub our bellies when its necessary, why not other parts of the body?

Quite true.

a reply to: LesMisanthrope

That was a good read.

I could familiarize with these thoughts on the days where I awake facing the wrong side of my room. Like one of those days where the most insignificant things tend to annoy what seems like a wound.

If you see the 'little man' lesmis, why tarry about with the giant, after all you know you won't measure up, I mean... not that you'd want to.

If you're not repenting why do you go about mourning and covering yourself in ashes?

Peace, peace, my man. Allow yourself breathing room from your inner philosopher and admire the birds for a bit, else you'll stay just as restless as the rest of the 'great' men.

originally posted by: LesMisanthrope
a reply to: vethumanbeing

Well said. It is happening at an alarming rate. It seems that many are embracing their technology at the cost of their biology. They become a parody of themselves quite quickly.

Scene opens; a small lunch being held in honor of "Easter Sunday". There are only 7 guests in attendance; all family members; the grandmother, 2 daughters 2 boyfriends and 2 grandchildren (sisters). TWO of them instead of having/sharing actual conversations within the gathering are texting to each most of the time while in proximity of ten feet from each other. Guess who those two were? Its beyond parody; they have no idea this could be considered rude (like speaking Ukrainian while in the company of Russians; because everyone knows English). I have also noticed a complete lack of social skills (non-verbalization) seems to be the collateral damage.

a reply to: LesMisanthrope

Ah, don't be like that. Glitter and be gay! (In a purely rhetorical sense!)