Ever read something so convincing you shivered? - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

Jinn · 11-09-2005, 10:10 AM

Have you ever been reading or listening to someone who wrote or said something so powerful that you felt a physical reaction? I say physical reaction, because understandly people's reactions to powerful communication are different. For me, my entire body chills and the hairs on my skin raise.

If you have read something that powerful, and the source is still available, please link it up. I'm interested to find the very evocative texts. It might not be as powerful to the rest of us, but I'm still interested to see it.

For me, it's always been definitions. This is WHY something is, or this is HOW something is.

And the thing that made me POST this topic was actually a silly description of Hi-NRG. It's a type of techno music that I like, but I've never been able to find a good classification of the type I like (it's usually called trance, but I don't like MOST trance).

Quote:

Hi-NRG is a fast variation of disco that evolved in the '80s. Driven by a fast drum machine and synthesizers, Hi-NRG was essentially a dance-oriented music with only slight hints of pop. There would be a few hooks -- generally sung by disembodied vocalists wailing in the background -- but the emphasis of the music, like most dance music, was in the beat.

I don't know why, but I just went "YES!" and got chills when I read it.

One of the most powerful I've read is strangely The Hacker Manifesto by +++ The Mentor +++. At the time I read it, he wholly described my motivations in a concise and powerful way. He wrote it shortly after I was born, yet he described my life in detail. I still get chills reading it: http://www.mithral.com/~beberg/manifesto.html

Quote:

The Hacker Manifesto
by
+++The Mentor+++
Written January 8, 1986

Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...

Damn kids. They're all alike.

But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?

I am a hacker, enter my world...

Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...

Damn underachiever. They're all alike.

I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."

Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.

I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...

Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.

And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...

Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...

You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.

This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.

Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.

I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.

theguyondacouch · 11-09-2005, 11:34 AM

Every once in a while I will hear a song that I really like, and I get goosebumps. Usually only happens when I'm struggling with something and the lyrics somehow relate to what I"m struggling with.

Pragma · 11-09-2005, 12:11 PM

The Hacker's Manifesto is quite possibly one of the most striking documents I've read

But yea - every now and then people say things that just resound within me and I go "Yes, that's exactly how I feel on that issue." It's a pretty neat feeling.

skier · 11-09-2005, 12:30 PM

Read hacker's manifesto a few years back and it gave the sensation you described. I even got a bit of it today reading that again.

X3N0 · 11-09-2005, 01:15 PM

I've read and heard several things that have sent shivers through my spines. This usually happens when I feel that what the person is talking about directly relates to my own beliefs or when it brings a revelation of how I function on a deeper level.

Zeraph · 11-09-2005, 01:29 PM

If you google psycho-physiological effect shivers, you'll get some studies that relate. Basically it sounds like when you have a spike of intense arousal, you can get a psychosomatic effect resulting in shivers. Possibly from the vestigial flight or fight response in raising your hairs to make you look bigger, but that's a guess.

And ya I get it too, occationally. For me it usually has to do with some truth I had been trying to define, and finding some tidbit of wisdom that clears it up.

Willravel · 11-09-2005, 01:50 PM

I ate an orange that made me wince this morning, but other than that, no. Maybe I'm reading the wrong stuff.

Elphaba · 11-09-2005, 03:34 PM

"Thus Spake Zarathustra" (theme from 2001 - A Space Odyssey) does it every time for me.

I was once told that the notes resonated with all seven chakra centers. Alrighty, then.

nukeu666 · 11-10-2005, 03:33 AM

hackers manifesto is a damn good read...going to mail to everyone in my addr book now

tecoyah · 11-10-2005, 03:39 AM

Circle of Life....Cranked up

I have no Idea why but....I actually bought the Lion King just to test my surround sound with this song

maleficent · 11-10-2005, 03:51 AM

the first hand account of the birth of a colleagues child (there was video attached that I passed on)... this prompted a shudder, an ewwww, a dear god why are you showing this to strangers, and a prayer of thanks giving that it won't happen to me.

flat5 · 11-10-2005, 11:31 AM

bills in the mail make me shudder.

"A Prayer For Owen Meany" really grabbed me. I read it three times before going on to another book. and I read very slow.
http://endeavor.med.nyu.edu/lit-med/...1736-des-.html

Czernobog · 11-10-2005, 11:38 AM

I like that Hacker Manifesto very much, definitely describes the situation appropriately.

As for something that made me shiver; my brother is a writer (and a damn good one, at that), and years ago he wrote something that was so haunting and moving that I can still remember it. I won't dishonor the piece by attempting to post it from memory, but I'll check with him and see if I can get it put up here.

Anxst · 11-10-2005, 11:44 AM

This always did it for me:

Quote:

"The Drunken Boat" [Le Bateau ivre] (1871)

As I was floating down impassive Rivers,
I no longer felt myself steered by the haulers:
gaudy Redskins had taken them for targets,
nailing them naked to coloured stakes.

I cared nothing for all my crews,
carrying Flemish wheat or English cotton.
When, along with my haulers, those uproars stopped,
the Rivers let me sail downstream where I pleased.

Into the ferocious tide-rips, last winter,
more absorbed than the minds of children, I ran!
And the unmoored Peninsulas never
endured more triumphant clamourings.

The storm made bliss of my sea-borne awakenings.
Lighter than a cork, I danced on the waves
which men call the eternal rollers of victims,
for ten nights, without once missing the foolish eye of the harbor lights!

Sweeter than the flesh of sour apples to children,
the green water penetrated my pinewood hull
and washed me clean of the bluish wine-stains
and the splashes of vomit, carrying away both rudder and anchor.

And from that time on I bathed in the Poem
of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk,
devouring the green azures where, entranced
in pallid flotsam, a dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down;

where, suddenly dyeing the blueness,
deliriums and slow rhythms under the gleams of the daylight,
stronger than alcohol, vaster than music,
ferment the bitter rednesses of love!

I have come to know the skies splitting with lightning,
and the waterspouts, and the breakers and currents;
I know the evening, and dawn rising up like a flock of doves,
and sometimes I have seen what men have imagined they saw!

I have seen the low-hanging sun speckled with mystic horrors
lighting up long violet coagulations
like the performers in antique dramas;
waves rolling back into the distances their shiverings of venetian blinds!

I have dreamed of the green night of the dazzled snows,
the kiss rising slowly to the eyes of the seas,
the circulation of undreamed-of saps,
and the yellow-blue awakenings of singing phosphorus!

I have followed, for whole months on end,
the swells battering the reefs like hysterical herds of cows,
never dreaming that the luminous feet of the Marys
could muzzle by force the snorting Oceans!

I have struck, do you realize, incredible Floridas,
where mingle with flowers the eyes of panthers in human skins!
Rainbows stretched like bridles
under the sea's horizon to glaucous herds!

I have seen the enormous swamps seething,
traps where a whole leviathan rots in the reeds!
Downfalls of waters in the midst of the calm,
and distances cataracting down into abysses!

Glaciers, suns of silver, waves of pearl, skies of red-hot coals!
Hideous wrecks at the bottom of brown gulfs
where the giant snakes, devoured by vermin,
fall from the twisted trees with black odours!

I should have liked to show to children those dolphins
of the blue wave, those golden, those singing fish. --
Foam of flowers rocked my driftings,
and at times ineffable winds would lend me wings.

Sometimes, a martyr weary of poles and zones,
the sea whose sobs sweetened my rollings
lifted my shadow-flowers with their yellow sucking disks toward me,
and I hung there like a kneeling woman...

Resembling an island, tossing on my sides the brawls
and droppings of pale-eyed, clamouring birds.
And I was scudding along when across my frayed ropes
drowned men sank backwards into sleep!...

But now I, a boat lost under the hair of coves,
hurled by the hurricane into the birdless ether;
I, whose wreck, dead-drunk and sodden with water,
neither Monitor nor Hanseatic ships would have fished up;

free, smoking, risen from violet fogs,
I who bored through the wall of the reddening sky which bears
a sweetmeat good poets find delicious:
lichens of sunlight mixed with azure snot;

who ran, speckled with tiny electric moons,
a crazy plank with black sea-horses for escort,
when Julys were crushing with cudgel blows
skies of ultramarine into burning funnels;

I who trembled to feel at fifty leagues off
the groans of Behemoths rutting, and the dense Maelstroms;
eternal spinner of blue immobilities,
I long for Europe with it's age-old parapets!

I have seen archipelagos of stars! and islands
whose delirious skies are open to sea wanderers: --
Do you sleep, are you exiled in those bottomless nights,
O million golden birds, Life Force of the future?

But, truly, I have wept too much! Dawns are heartbreaking.
Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter:
sharp love has swollen me up with intoxicating torpor.
O let my keel split! O let me sink to the bottom!

If there is one water in Europe I want, it is the black
cold pool where into the scented twilight
a child squatting full of sadness launches
a boat as fragile as a butterfly in May.

I can no more, bathed in your langours, O waves,
sail in the wake of the carriers of cottons;
nor undergo the pride of the flags and pennants;
nor pull past the horrible eyes of prison hulks.

-Arthur Rimbaud

I get shivers every time I read that piece.

X3N0 · 11-10-2005, 12:01 PM

The poem posted above was a long read, and I had to re-read several parts to get a simple understanding. BUT, i too felt shivers reading this incredibly intricate piece. This deserves several re-reads and maybe a dictionary by my side to get a clearer understanding of the words used in certain places =D.

ronan · 11-11-2005, 04:11 AM

uhhh, that song.. .taste the rainbow by dj brisk i think... "taste the motherfucking raaaaainnnbow!" that gives me shivers... and also there was a passage in the first "wheel of time" book - the eye of the world... man, those books are good...

flstf · 11-11-2005, 07:06 AM

I first read/heard this poem when I was a boy in grade school back in the fifties. It has stayed with me ever since and has often come to mind during times of change in my life, funerals, births, times of loss, times of gain, etc...and of course every year when the seasons change

Nothing Gold Can Stay - Robert Frost, 1923

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

serlindsipity · 11-11-2005, 07:35 AM

anythign gruesome usually makes me go numb. was watching "un chein andalaou" and when the eye was cut open i just wimpered and lost feeling of my feet and hands for ten minutes.

Ardus · 11-13-2005, 11:37 PM

When I saw the Broadway musical, Wicked, all of the hair on my body bristled with exhiliration several times during the show, it was just that good.

MojoRisin · 11-14-2005, 01:31 PM

Beethoven's 9th symphony, 4th movement..

"Can you sense the Creator, world?"

(I got the chillies while posting this!)

Ustwo · 11-14-2005, 10:14 PM

Why is it when I read the hacker manefesto I picture someone wearing a paper hat taking my order?

I bet the kid that wrote that just got done watching War Games for the 90th time

iblade · 11-14-2005, 10:27 PM

I get shivers when I see an analysis of a situation that completely turns everything that was said about it up to now, and that is so very true. I'm like: "Wow. That person is so right. The truth was in front of our eyes all the time, yet our perspective of the facts prevented us from seeing it."

This article from LeMonde, interview of Emmanuel Todd, for example (in French, sorry):

http://www.lemonde.fr/web/article/0,...-706775,0.html

The author show that the violences in France are caused by youngsters who are, in fact, Republican at heart. They understand the very principles of the Republic, but do not understand why they are not applied to them. So very true.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Le Monde

En 1995, vous analysiez la "fracture sociale", expression dont le candidat Jacques Chirac s'était alors servi avec succès pour sa campagne présidentielle. Dix ans après, où en est-on ?

L'expression "fracture sociale" n'est pas de moi. Elle est de Marcel Gauchet, mais elle m'est invariablement attribuée. Tant pis, j'ai renoncé à lutter. Dans une note de la Fondation Saint-Simon, à l'époque, j'avais décrit la réapparition des forces populaires après l'effondrement du communisme, en rappelant que les ouvriers et les employés représentaient toujours 50 % de la population. Au simple vu des recensements, l'idée giscardienne des "deux Français sur trois" dans les classes moyennes ne tenait pas.

Entre deux élections, la classe politique se laisse régulièrement aveugler par les sondages d'opinion, qui sont le reflet des couches supérieures de la société. Cela donne ces enquêtes qui montrent que Balladur va être élu, que les référendums vont passer facilement... Ce n'est que pendant les campagnes électorales que les milieux populaires s'activent progressivement. Chacun croit alors assister à un changement d'humeur de l'électorat, quand il s'agit, en fait, de l'émergence de l'opinion populaire : celle des gens qui n'ont pas forcément un avis sur tout à tout moment.

Depuis dix ans, scrutin après scrutin, l'aliénation des milieux ouvriers et populaires à l'égard de la classe dirigeante au sens large n'a fait que croître : les résultats du dernier référendum du 29 mai sur l'Europe l'ont bien montré.

Les violences dans les banlieues françaises sont-elles une conséquence de cette aliénation ?

Dans les années récentes, la vie politique française n'a été qu'une suite de catastrophes qui laissent les observateurs étrangers de plus en plus stupéfaits et narquois. La première catastrophe, c'est la présidentielle de 2002, avec un premier tour qui amène l'extrême droite dans le duo de tête et un second tour où Jacques Chirac est élu avec plus de 80 % des voix.

La deuxième catastrophe, si l'on se place du point de vue des classes dirigeantes, c'est le référendum sur l'Europe. Pendant des mois, tous les commentateurs étaient convaincus que le oui allait passer et, à la fin, le non l'a emporté haut la main. Choc, surprise, abattement. Les classes dirigeantes commencent tout juste à se rendormir, en tentant de se persuader que la société est redevenue stable, quand survient la troisième catastrophe : cet embrasement des banlieues dont nul ne sait encore s'il est terminé. Et, chaque fois, la délégitimation des classes dirigeantes devient plus flagrante.

Le scénario des catastrophes dont vous parlez est-il toujours le même ?

Non, elles ne font pas agir les mêmes couches. Le Pen au second tour en 2002, c'est le vieux monde populaire français qui forme le coeur du vote FN. Le non au référendum, c'est l'entrée en scène d'une partie des classes moyennes, liée à la fonction publique, que je qualifierais de petite bourgeoisie d'Etat. La troisième catastrophe, celle des banlieues, met en jeu d'autres acteurs : des jeunes issus de l'immigration. Ceux-ci sont encore séparés des milieux populaires français pour des raisons historiques et culturelles, bien qu'ils appartiennent au même monde en termes sociaux et économiques. Les trois groupes que je viens de décrire ont en commun un antagonisme à l'égard du système et des classes dirigeantes.

En revanche, on ne voit pas apparaître de solidarité entre eux. Par exemple, je reste persuadé que les deux classes qui ont produit le non au référendum * les milieux populaires et la petite bourgeoisie d'Etat * ont des intérêts profondément divergents. Les premiers sont en rage contre le statu quo, qui signifie, pour eux, chômage et écrasement des salaires dans un monde ouvert à la concurrence ; la seconde désire le maintien du statu quo, qui la laisse à l'abri du libre-échange et lui assure une garantie de l'emploi.

N'y a-t-il pas un antagonisme entre ces deux catégories et la troisième, celle des jeunes issus de l'immigration qui brûlent des voitures ?

C'est très inquiétant de voir brûler des voitures, des autobus et des maternelles. Et les choses peuvent encore dégénérer. Malgré tout, je penche pour une interprétation assez optimiste de ce qui s'est passé. Je ne parle pas de la situation des banlieues, qui est par endroits désastreuse, avec des taux de chômage de 35 % chez les chefs de famille et des discriminations ethniques à l'embauche.

Mais je ne vois rien dans les événements eux-mêmes qui sépare radicalement les enfants d'immigrés du reste de la société française. J'y vois exactement le contraire. J'interprète les événements comme un refus de marginalisation. Tout ça n'aurait pas pu se produire si ces enfants d'immigrés n'avaient pas intériorisé quelques-unes des valeurs fondamentales de la société française, dont, par exemple, le couple liberté-égalité. Du côté des autres acteurs, la police menée par le gouvernement, les autorités locales, la population non immigrée, j'ai vu de l'exaspération peut-être, mais pas de rejet en bloc.

Voulez-vous dire que les jeunes se révoltent parce qu'ils ont intégré le modèle républicain et sentent qu'il ne fonctionne pas ?

Exactement. Je lis leur révolte comme une aspiration à l'égalité. La société française est travaillée par la montée des valeurs inégalitaires, qui touche l'ensemble du monde développé. Assez bien admise aux Etats-Unis, où son seul effet politique est le succès du néoconservatisme, cette poussée inégalitaire planétaire passe mal en France. Elle se heurte à une valeur anthropologique égalitaire qui était au coeur des structures familiales paysannes du Bassin parisien. Ce substrat, qui remonte au XVIIe siècle, ou plus loin encore, ne se retrouve pas du tout dans la paysannerie anglaise, chez qui la transmission des terres était inégalitaire.

Quand on est en haut de la société, on peut se faire à la montée de l'inégalité, même si on est contre sur le plan des principes : ce n'est pas trop inconfortable. En revanche, les milieux populaires ou les classes moyennes la vivent très mal. Cela donne le vote FN, qui a une composante d'égalité, avec cette capacité à dire merde aux élites, et une composante d'inégalité, avec le fait d'aller chercher plus bas que soi l'immigré bouc émissaire.

MojoRisin · 11-15-2005, 12:00 AM

parlay englay see vew play?

iblade · 11-15-2005, 11:24 PM

I can make a translation of the paragraph if you want.

fresnelly · 11-16-2005, 07:43 AM

All the time. I can't watch horror movies, because I'm too sensitive that way. I couldn't make it throught the thread about the Japanese girl slowly poisoning her mother. It was too unsettling.

This morning, on Howard Stern of all places, they replayed an in-studio acoustic performance of <b>Hair</b>. Apparently, this was the Cowsills first reunion in years and they were singing with a bare minimum of preparation.

But their enthusiasm and energy was explosive and effected me big time. It's a silly song sure, but the harmonies and rythem absolutely coursed through my veins.

Jinn · 11-16-2005, 08:12 AM

Quote:

Why is it when I read the hacker manefesto I picture someone wearing a paper hat taking my order?

I bet the kid that wrote that just got done watching War Games for the 90th time

We're just too hip and radical for you old man.. and NO I will not turn down "that damn racket.."

Ustwo · 11-16-2005, 08:58 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by JinnKai

We're just too hip and radical for you old man.. and NO I will not turn down "that damn racket.."

Heh, I was 16 when that was written, be interesting to see what my reaction to it would have been if I had read it then. Course I would have had to have fired up my 1200 baud modem and dialed into some hacking bbs which had a total of 1 connection at a time.

Jinn · 11-16-2005, 12:17 PM

I was less than ... 6 months old..

Down with the man! Those damn old people don't understand la resistance!!

Willravel · 11-16-2005, 01:48 PM

After looking and testing for a week, I finally found something!!! Listening the Dvorak's New World Symphony and reading Arthur C. Clarke's "Childhood's End" did it! It was quite exhilerating.

politicophile · 11-16-2005, 02:59 PM

Beethoven's 7th, second movement
Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor
Saint-Saens' ?3rd?, a.k.a. the "Organ Symphony", especially the 4th movement

lindalove · 11-16-2005, 07:49 PM

The Massacre At El Mozote by Mark Danner. If you Google it, you should find a version of it online.

sapiens · 11-16-2005, 08:15 PM

John 1: 1-5, The King James Version, made me shiver when I was younger. I don't shiver any more when I hear it, but I still think it's great.

Quote:

1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

2The same was in the beginning with God.

3All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.

4In him was life; and the life was the light of men.

5And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

Willravel · 11-16-2005, 09:10 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by sapiens, but mostly the Bible

And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

That is a really great phrase.

DonovanDuVal · 12-04-2005, 06:32 AM

Watching 'The Usual Suspects' did it for me. More so the second time around. Even when I knew the ending I still found my heart racing, probably because I understood what was going on more.

Since then I have sought out films and books with a twist to them. Fight Club, Invisible Monsters (which I thought delivered on so many levels,) The Shawshank Redemption, Seven and even Saw all floated my boat. The more I find things that satisfy my need however, the harder it is to find something that delivers on this front.

I like surprises, but I am not usually that into horror because that seems to play on the suspense of you knowing that something is going to happen, rather than catching you unaware.

Lebell · 12-04-2005, 08:36 AM

Once, just once.

M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie.

little_tippler · 12-14-2005, 03:42 AM

This makes me shiver to this day:

Leonard Cohen's How to Speak Poetry

HOW TO SPEAK POETRY

Take the word butterfly. To use this word it is not necessary to make the voice weigh less than an ounce or equip it with small dusty wings. It is not necessary to invent a sunny day or a field of daffodils. It is not necessary to be in love, or to be in love with butterflies. The word butterfly is not a real butterfly. There is the word and there is the butterfly. If you confuse these two items people have the right to laugh at you. Do not make so much of the word. Are you trying to suggest that you love butterflies more perfectly than anyone else, or really understand their nature? The word butterfly is merely data. It is not an opportunity for you to
hover, soar, befriend flowers, symbolize beauty and frailty, or in any way impersonate a butterfly. Do not act out words. Never act out words. Never try to leave the floor when you talk about flying. Never close your eyes and jerk your head to one side when you
talk about death. Do not fix your burning eyes on me when you speak about love. If you want to impress me when you speak about love put your hand in your pocket or under your dress and play with yourself. If ambition and the hunger for applause have driven you to speak about love you should learn how to do it without disgracing yourself or the material.

What is the expression which the age demands? The age demands no expression whatever. We have seen photographs of bereaved Asian mothers. We are not interested in the agony of your fumbled organs. There is nothing you can show on your face that can match the horror of this time. Do not even try. You will only hold yourself up to the scorn of those who have felt things deeply. We have seen newsreels of humans in the extremities of pain and dislocation. Everyone knows you are eating well and are even being paid to stand up there. You are playing to people who have experienced a catastrophe. This should make you very quiet.
Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Everyone knows you are in pain. You cannot tell the audience everything you know about love in every line of love you speak. Step aside and they will know what you know because you know it already. You have nothing to teach them. You are not more beautiful than they are. You are not wiser. Do not shout at them. Do not force a dry entry. That is bad sex. If you show the lines of your genitals, then deliver
what you promise. And remember that people do not really want an acrobat in bed. What is our need? To be close to the natural man, to be close to the natural woman. Do not pretend that you are a beloved singer with a vast loyal audience which has followed the ups and downs of your life to this very moment. The bombs, flame-throwers, and all the shit habe destroyed more than just the trees and villages. They have also destroyed the stage. Did you
think that your profession would escape the general destruction? There is no more stage. There are no more footlights. You are among the people. Then be modest. Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Be by yourself. Be in your own room. Do not put yourself on.

This is an interior landscape. It is inside. It is private. Respect the privacy of the material. These pieces were written in silence. The courage of the play is to speak them. The discipline of the play is not to violate them. Let the audience feel your love of privacy even though there is no privacy. Be good whores. The poem is not a slogan. It cannot advertise you. It cannot promote your reputation for sensitivity. You are not a stud. You are not a killer lady. All this junk about the gangsters of love. You are students of discipline. Do not act out the words. The words die when you act them out, they wither, and we are left with nothing but your ambition.

Speak the words with the exact precision with which you would check out a laundry list. Do not become emotional about the lace blouse. Do not get a hard-on when you say panties. Do
not get all shivery just because of the towel. The sheets should not provoke a dreamy expression about the eyes. There is no need to weep into the handkerchief. The socks are not there to remind you of strange and distant voyages. It is just your laundry. It is just your clothes. Don't peep through them. Just wear them.

The poem is nothing but information. It is the Consitution of the inner country. If you declaim it and blow it up with noble intentions then you are no better than the politicians whom you despise. You are just someone waving a flag and making the cheapest kind of appeal to a kind of emotional patriotism. Think of the words as science, not as art. They are a report. You are speaking before a meeting of the Explorers' Club of the National Geographic Society. These people know all the risks of mountain climbing. They honour you by taking this for granted. If you rub their faces in it that is an insult to their hospitality. Tell them about the height of the mountain, the equipment you used, be specific about the surfaces and the time it took to scale it. Do not work the audience for gasps ans sighs. If you are worthy of gasps and sighs it will not be from your appreciation of the event but from theirs. It will be in the statistics and not the trembling of the voice or the cutting of the air with your hands. It will be in the data and the quiet organization of your presence.

Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you're tired. You look like you could go on forever. Now come into my arms. You are the image of my beauty.

Martian · 12-14-2005, 04:32 AM

Quote:

Voulez-vous dire que les jeunes se révoltent parce qu'ils ont intégré le modèle républicain et sentent qu'il ne fonctionne pas ?

Exactement. Je lis leur révolte comme une aspiration à l'égalité. La société française est travaillée par la montée des valeurs inégalitaires, qui touche l'ensemble du monde développé. Assez bien admise aux Etats-Unis, où son seul effet politique est le succès du néoconservatisme, cette poussée inégalitaire planétaire passe mal en France. Elle se heurte à une valeur anthropologique égalitaire qui était au coeur des structures familiales paysannes du Bassin parisien. Ce substrat, qui remonte au XVIIe siècle, ou plus loin encore, ne se retrouve pas du tout dans la paysannerie anglaise, chez qui la transmission des terres était inégalitaire.

Quand on est en haut de la société, on peut se faire à la montée de l'inégalité, même si on est contre sur le plan des principes : ce n'est pas trop inconfortable. En revanche, les milieux populaires ou les classes moyennes la vivent très mal. Cela donne le vote FN, qui a une composante d'égalité, avec cette capacité à dire merde aux élites, et une composante d'inégalité, avec le fait d'aller chercher plus bas que soi l'immigré bouc émissaire.

The highlighted text, when translated in my rusty french, reads as follows :

Quote:

Are you trying to say that the youth of france are revolting because they have learned (integrated) the Republican model and feel it doesn't function?

Exactly. I see their revolt as an aspiration to equality. The French society is working towards the rise of uneven values that touch the entire developed world. Rather well recieved in the US, where it's success has led only to the rise of neo-conservatism, this forced global inequality has passed poorly in France. It encounters a forced human value that's in the heart of the national family (structures) in the Paris Basin. In this substrate, which goes back to the 17th century or earlier, one does not find at all in the English nations, in which the exchange of land (territory?) was unequal.

When one is on top of society, once can perpetuate the rise of inequality, if one is opposed to the principles of the land : this is not at all uncomfortable. On the other hand, the many or middle class live very badly. They vote for the FN, who are a proponent of equality and who have the ability to speak poorly of the elite, and who are a proponent of inequality and are able to seek a scapegoat in immigrants.

I don't think my crappy translation quite does it justice, but such is the nature of second languages. The general thrust of the article is what iblade said; the youth of France understand the republican ideology but don't feel it applies to them, so they react violently.

clifclav · 12-14-2005, 07:21 AM

The ending of The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, 1939

If you can read this whole novel and comprehend what it took for Rose of Sharon to do what she does and NOT cry or shudder or whatever then I question your humanity.

Quote:

The boy was at her side again explaining: ‘I didn’t know.He said he et, or he wasn’
hungry. Las’ night I went an’ bust a winda an’ stoled some bread.Made ’im chew ’er
down. But he puked it all up, an’ then he was weaker. Got to have soup or milk.You
folks got money to git milk?’

Ma said: ‘Hush.Don’worry.We’ll figger somepin out.’

Suddenly the boy cried: ‘He’s dyin’, I tell you! He’s starvin’ to death, I tell you.’

‘Hush,’ said Ma. She looked at Pa and Uncle John standing helplessly gazing at the
sick man. She looked at Rose of Sharon huddled in the comforter.Ma’s eyes passed
Rose of Sharon’s eyes, and then came back to them.And the two women looked deep
into each other. The girl’s breath came short and gasping.

She said ‘Yes.’

Ma smiled.‘I knowed you would. I knowed!’ She looked down at her hands, tightlocked
in her lap.

Rose of Sharon whispered: ‘Will—will you all—go out?’ The rain whisked lightly on
the roof.

Ma leaned forward and with her palm she brushed the tousled hair back from her
daughter’s forehead, and she kissed her on the forehead.Ma got up quickly.‘Come
on, you fellas,’ she called.‘You come out in the tool shed.’

Ruthie opened her mouth to speak.‘Hush,’Ma said.‘Hush and git.’ She herded them
through the door, drew the boy with her; and she closed the squeaking door.
For a minute Rose of Sharon sat still in the whispering barn. Then she hoisted her
tired body up and drew the comforter about her. She moved slowly to the corner and
stood looking down at the wasted face, into the wide, frightened eyes. Then slowly
she lay down beside him.He shook his head slowly from side to side. Rose of Sharon
loosened one side of the blanket and bared her breast.‘You got to,’ she said. She
squirmed closer and pulled his head close.‘There!’ she said.‘There.’Her hand moved
behind his head and supported it.Her fingers moved gently in his hair. She looked
up and across the barn, and her lips came together and smiled mysteriously.

msh58 · 12-18-2005, 11:36 PM

catcher in the rye, seperate peace. many songs, many movies

Lucifer · 12-19-2005, 05:59 AM

This does it for me, Siegfried Sassoon's "Dreamers", when the second stanza starts, the tone of the language changes, even if you are reading it in your head. Powerfull stuff!

Quote:

Soldiers are citizens of death’s grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time’s to-morrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.

11-09-2005, 11:34 AM	#2 (permalink)
theguyondacouch salmon? Location: Outside Providence	Every once in a while I will hear a song that I really like, and I get goosebumps. Usually only happens when I'm struggling with something and the lyrics somehow relate to what I"m struggling with. __________________ "Lick my frozen metal ass!"

11-09-2005, 12:11 PM	#3 (permalink)
Pragma I am Winter Born Location: Alexandria, VA	The Hacker's Manifesto is quite possibly one of the most striking documents I've read But yea - every now and then people say things that just resound within me and I go "Yes, that's exactly how I feel on that issue." It's a pretty neat feeling. __________________ Eat antimatter, Posleen-boy!

11-09-2005, 12:30 PM	#4 (permalink)
skier Rawr! Location: Edmontania	Read hacker's manifesto a few years back and it gave the sensation you described. I even got a bit of it today reading that again. __________________ "Asking a bomb squad if an old bomb is still "real" is not the best thing to do if you want to save it." - denim

11-09-2005, 01:15 PM	#5 (permalink)
X3N0 Upright Location: Kelowna BC	I've read and heard several things that have sent shivers through my spines. This usually happens when I feel that what the person is talking about directly relates to my own beliefs or when it brings a revelation of how I function on a deeper level. __________________ Xenogears - Stand tall and shake the heavens Socrates - The unstudied life, is not worth living

11-10-2005, 03:33 AM	#9 (permalink)
nukeu666 Junkie Location: India	hackers manifesto is a damn good read...going to mail to everyone in my addr book now __________________ Why did the Comp. Engineer get X-mas and Halloween mixed up? Because Oct(31) == Dec(25)

11-09-2005, 01:29 PM	#6 (permalink)
Zeraph Banned Location: The Cosmos	If you google psycho-physiological effect shivers, you'll get some studies that relate. Basically it sounds like when you have a spike of intense arousal, you can get a psychosomatic effect resulting in shivers. Possibly from the vestigial flight or fight response in raising your hairs to make you look bigger, but that's a guess. And ya I get it too, occationally. For me it usually has to do with some truth I had been trying to define, and finding some tidbit of wisdom that clears it up.

11-09-2005, 01:50 PM	#7 (permalink)
Willravel ... a sort of licensed troubleshooter.	I ate an orange that made me wince this morning, but other than that, no. Maybe I'm reading the wrong stuff.

11-09-2005, 03:34 PM	#8 (permalink)
Elphaba Deja Moo Location: Olympic Peninsula, WA	"Thus Spake Zarathustra" (theme from 2001 - A Space Odyssey) does it every time for me. I was once told that the notes resonated with all seven chakra centers. Alrighty, then.

11-10-2005, 03:39 AM	#10 (permalink)
tecoyah Illusionary	Circle of Life....Cranked up I have no Idea why but....I actually bought the Lion King just to test my surround sound with this song __________________ Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha

11-10-2005, 03:51 AM	#11 (permalink)
maleficent Junkie Moderator Emeritus Location: Chicago	the first hand account of the birth of a colleagues child (there was video attached that I passed on)... this prompted a shudder, an ewwww, a dear god why are you showing this to strangers, and a prayer of thanks giving that it won't happen to me. __________________ Free your heart from hatred. Free your mind from worries. Live simply. Give more. Expect less.

11-10-2005, 11:31 AM	#12 (permalink)
flat5 Very Insignificant Pawn Location: Amsterdam, NL	bills in the mail make me shudder. "A Prayer For Owen Meany" really grabbed me. I read it three times before going on to another book. and I read very slow. http://endeavor.med.nyu.edu/lit-med/...1736-des-.html Last edited by flat5; 11-10-2005 at 11:37 AM..

11-10-2005, 11:38 AM	#13 (permalink)
Czernobog Insane Location: NJ	I like that Hacker Manifesto very much, definitely describes the situation appropriately. As for something that made me shiver; my brother is a writer (and a damn good one, at that), and years ago he wrote something that was so haunting and moving that I can still remember it. I won't dishonor the piece by attempting to post it from memory, but I'll check with him and see if I can get it put up here. __________________ Embrace the flame

11-10-2005, 12:01 PM	#15 (permalink)
X3N0 Upright Location: Kelowna BC	The poem posted above was a long read, and I had to re-read several parts to get a simple understanding. BUT, i too felt shivers reading this incredibly intricate piece. This deserves several re-reads and maybe a dictionary by my side to get a clearer understanding of the words used in certain places =D. __________________ Xenogears - Stand tall and shake the heavens Socrates - The unstudied life, is not worth living

11-11-2005, 04:11 AM	#16 (permalink)
ronan Crazy Location: Australia	uhhh, that song.. .taste the rainbow by dj brisk i think... "taste the motherfucking raaaaainnnbow!" that gives me shivers... and also there was a passage in the first "wheel of time" book - the eye of the world... man, those books are good... __________________ i am enlightened

11-11-2005, 07:06 AM	#17 (permalink)
flstf Easy Rider Location: Moscow on the Ohio	I first read/heard this poem when I was a boy in grade school back in the fifties. It has stayed with me ever since and has often come to mind during times of change in my life, funerals, births, times of loss, times of gain, etc...and of course every year when the seasons change Nothing Gold Can Stay - Robert Frost, 1923 Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leafs a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

11-11-2005, 07:35 AM	#18 (permalink)
serlindsipity Psycho Location: Boulder Baby!	anythign gruesome usually makes me go numb. was watching "un chein andalaou" and when the eye was cut open i just wimpered and lost feeling of my feet and hands for ten minutes. __________________ My third eye is my camera's lens.

11-13-2005, 11:37 PM	#19 (permalink)
Ardus Upright Location: Arizona	When I saw the Broadway musical, Wicked, all of the hair on my body bristled with exhiliration several times during the show, it was just that good.

11-14-2005, 01:31 PM	#20 (permalink)
MojoRisin Crazy Location: Just got into town about an hour ago.	Beethoven's 9th symphony, 4th movement.. "Can you sense the Creator, world?" (I got the chillies while posting this!) __________________ Dropping a barbell he points to the sky and says "The suns not yellow, It's chicken!"

11-14-2005, 10:14 PM	#21 (permalink)
Ustwo Pissing in the cornflakes	Why is it when I read the hacker manefesto I picture someone wearing a paper hat taking my order? I bet the kid that wrote that just got done watching War Games for the 90th time __________________ Agents of the enemies who hold office in our own government, who attempt to eliminate our "freedoms" and our "right to know" are posting among us, I fear.....on this very forum. - host Obama - Know a Man by the friends he keeps.

11-15-2005, 12:00 AM	#23 (permalink)
MojoRisin Crazy Location: Just got into town about an hour ago.	parlay englay see vew play? __________________ Dropping a barbell he points to the sky and says "The suns not yellow, It's chicken!"

11-15-2005, 11:24 PM	#24 (permalink)
iblade Crazy Location: Kyoto	I can make a translation of the paragraph if you want. __________________ We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.

11-16-2005, 07:43 AM	#25 (permalink)
fresnelly Functionally Appropriate Location: Toronto	All the time. I can't watch horror movies, because I'm too sensitive that way. I couldn't make it throught the thread about the Japanese girl slowly poisoning her mother. It was too unsettling. This morning, on Howard Stern of all places, they replayed an in-studio acoustic performance of <b>Hair</b>. Apparently, this was the Cowsills first reunion in years and they were singing with a bare minimum of preparation. But their enthusiasm and energy was explosive and effected me big time. It's a silly song sure, but the harmonies and rythem absolutely coursed through my veins. __________________ Building an artificial intelligence that appreciates Mozart is easy. Building an A.I. that appreciates a theme restaurant is the real challenge - Kit Roebuck - Nine Planets Without Intelligent Life

11-16-2005, 12:17 PM	#28 (permalink)
Jinn Lover - Protector - Teacher Location: Seattle, WA	I was less than ... 6 months old.. Down with the man! Those damn old people don't understand la resistance!! __________________ "I'm typing on a computer of science, which is being sent by science wires to a little science server where you can access it. I'm not typing on a computer of philosophy or religion or whatever other thing you think can be used to understand the universe because they're a poor substitute in the role of understanding the universe which exists independent from ourselves." - Willravel

11-16-2005, 01:48 PM	#29 (permalink)
Willravel ... a sort of licensed troubleshooter.	After looking and testing for a week, I finally found something!!! Listening the Dvorak's New World Symphony and reading Arthur C. Clarke's "Childhood's End" did it! It was quite exhilerating.

11-16-2005, 02:59 PM	#30 (permalink)
politicophile Addict	Beethoven's 7th, second movement Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor Saint-Saens' ?3rd?, a.k.a. the "Organ Symphony", especially the 4th movement __________________ The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error. ~John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

11-16-2005, 07:49 PM	#31 (permalink)
lindalove Registered User	The Massacre At El Mozote by Mark Danner. If you Google it, you should find a version of it online.

12-04-2005, 06:32 AM	#34 (permalink)
DonovanDuVal Crazy Location: UK	Watching 'The Usual Suspects' did it for me. More so the second time around. Even when I knew the ending I still found my heart racing, probably because I understood what was going on more. Since then I have sought out films and books with a twist to them. Fight Club, Invisible Monsters (which I thought delivered on so many levels,) The Shawshank Redemption, Seven and even Saw all floated my boat. The more I find things that satisfy my need however, the harder it is to find something that delivers on this front. I like surprises, but I am not usually that into horror because that seems to play on the suspense of you knowing that something is going to happen, rather than catching you unaware. __________________ "I've been Donovan DuVal. Take care of yourselves, and each other."

12-04-2005, 08:36 AM	#35 (permalink)
Lebell Cracking the Whip Location: Sexymama's arms...	Once, just once. M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie. __________________ "Of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience." – C. S. Lewis The ONLY sponsors we have are YOU! Please Donate!

12-14-2005, 03:42 AM	#36 (permalink)
little_tippler Leaning against the -Sun- Super Moderator Location: on the other side	This makes me shiver to this day: Leonard Cohen's How to Speak Poetry HOW TO SPEAK POETRY Take the word butterfly. To use this word it is not necessary to make the voice weigh less than an ounce or equip it with small dusty wings. It is not necessary to invent a sunny day or a field of daffodils. It is not necessary to be in love, or to be in love with butterflies. The word butterfly is not a real butterfly. There is the word and there is the butterfly. If you confuse these two items people have the right to laugh at you. Do not make so much of the word. Are you trying to suggest that you love butterflies more perfectly than anyone else, or really understand their nature? The word butterfly is merely data. It is not an opportunity for you to hover, soar, befriend flowers, symbolize beauty and frailty, or in any way impersonate a butterfly. Do not act out words. Never act out words. Never try to leave the floor when you talk about flying. Never close your eyes and jerk your head to one side when you talk about death. Do not fix your burning eyes on me when you speak about love. If you want to impress me when you speak about love put your hand in your pocket or under your dress and play with yourself. If ambition and the hunger for applause have driven you to speak about love you should learn how to do it without disgracing yourself or the material. What is the expression which the age demands? The age demands no expression whatever. We have seen photographs of bereaved Asian mothers. We are not interested in the agony of your fumbled organs. There is nothing you can show on your face that can match the horror of this time. Do not even try. You will only hold yourself up to the scorn of those who have felt things deeply. We have seen newsreels of humans in the extremities of pain and dislocation. Everyone knows you are eating well and are even being paid to stand up there. You are playing to people who have experienced a catastrophe. This should make you very quiet. Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Everyone knows you are in pain. You cannot tell the audience everything you know about love in every line of love you speak. Step aside and they will know what you know because you know it already. You have nothing to teach them. You are not more beautiful than they are. You are not wiser. Do not shout at them. Do not force a dry entry. That is bad sex. If you show the lines of your genitals, then deliver what you promise. And remember that people do not really want an acrobat in bed. What is our need? To be close to the natural man, to be close to the natural woman. Do not pretend that you are a beloved singer with a vast loyal audience which has followed the ups and downs of your life to this very moment. The bombs, flame-throwers, and all the shit habe destroyed more than just the trees and villages. They have also destroyed the stage. Did you think that your profession would escape the general destruction? There is no more stage. There are no more footlights. You are among the people. Then be modest. Speak the words, convey the data, step aside. Be by yourself. Be in your own room. Do not put yourself on. This is an interior landscape. It is inside. It is private. Respect the privacy of the material. These pieces were written in silence. The courage of the play is to speak them. The discipline of the play is not to violate them. Let the audience feel your love of privacy even though there is no privacy. Be good whores. The poem is not a slogan. It cannot advertise you. It cannot promote your reputation for sensitivity. You are not a stud. You are not a killer lady. All this junk about the gangsters of love. You are students of discipline. Do not act out the words. The words die when you act them out, they wither, and we are left with nothing but your ambition. Speak the words with the exact precision with which you would check out a laundry list. Do not become emotional about the lace blouse. Do not get a hard-on when you say panties. Do not get all shivery just because of the towel. The sheets should not provoke a dreamy expression about the eyes. There is no need to weep into the handkerchief. The socks are not there to remind you of strange and distant voyages. It is just your laundry. It is just your clothes. Don't peep through them. Just wear them. The poem is nothing but information. It is the Consitution of the inner country. If you declaim it and blow it up with noble intentions then you are no better than the politicians whom you despise. You are just someone waving a flag and making the cheapest kind of appeal to a kind of emotional patriotism. Think of the words as science, not as art. They are a report. You are speaking before a meeting of the Explorers' Club of the National Geographic Society. These people know all the risks of mountain climbing. They honour you by taking this for granted. If you rub their faces in it that is an insult to their hospitality. Tell them about the height of the mountain, the equipment you used, be specific about the surfaces and the time it took to scale it. Do not work the audience for gasps ans sighs. If you are worthy of gasps and sighs it will not be from your appreciation of the event but from theirs. It will be in the statistics and not the trembling of the voice or the cutting of the air with your hands. It will be in the data and the quiet organization of your presence. Avoid the flourish. Do not be afraid to be weak. Do not be ashamed to be tired. You look good when you're tired. You look like you could go on forever. Now come into my arms. You are the image of my beauty. __________________ Whether we write or speak or do but look We are ever unapparent. What we are Cannot be transfused into word or book. Our soul from us is infinitely far. However much we give our thoughts the will To be our soul and gesture it abroad, Our hearts are incommunicable still. In what we show ourselves we are ignored. The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged By any skill of thought or trick of seeming. Unto our very selves we are abridged When we would utter to our thought our being. We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams, And each to each other dreams of others' dreams. Fernando Pessoa, 1918

12-18-2005, 11:36 PM	#39 (permalink)
msh58 Crazy	catcher in the rye, seperate peace. many songs, many movies