Our Bad Luck Is That Our Writing

Like The Phoenix, Socialism Is Reborn From Every Pile Of Ashes Left Day In, Day Out, By Burnt-out Human Dreams And Charred Hopes.

Ideally, Nothing Should Be Embraced By A Consumer Firmly, Nothing Should Command A Commitment Till Death Do Us Part, No Needs Should Be Seen As Fully Satisfied, No Desires Considered Ultimate. There Ought To Be A Proviso 'until Further Notice' Attached To Any Oath Of Loyalty And Any Commitment. It Is But The Volatility, The In-built Temporality Of All Engagements That Truly Counts; It Counts More Than The Commitment Itself, Which Is Anyway Not Allowed To Outlast The Time Necessary For Consuming The Object Of Desire (or, Rather, The Time Sufficient For The Desirability Of That Object To Wane).

When People Think, Rightly Or Wrongly, That Marriage Is Forever, They Are Stimulated To Seek And Find A Resolution, A Modus Vivendi, Whenever They Quarrel.

Our Bad Luck Is That Our Writing Is Linear, While We Think Circularly.

I Guess I Am Doomed To Remain An Outsider To The End, Lacking As I Am The Indispensable Qualities Of An Academic Insider: School Loyalty, Conformity To The Procedure, And Readiness To Obey By The School-endorsed Criteria Of Cohesion And Consistency.