You're flailing.
It is better not to hate pain? But is it not pain that motivates us, granted there is no purpose to hating pain, but there's no purpose lying on a grassy knoll and watching the clouds passing by either, in this way hating pain is not the denial of life, it's the zest of it, the sour in sweet & sour sauce.
Only the dead exist without unhappiness or pain.
Pain is part of life, yes. And I don't deny it, either. You though, like all life-haters, are so morbidly averse to the pain of your day to day existence that you flee to your Transcendental (Transhumanist) fantasies, which are no different in essence that the gnostic fantasies of the Cathars before you, or the void-chasing fantasies of many Buddhists before them. Or, for that matter, the anti-materialistic fantasies of would-be 'spiritual' types from the time of the Old Testament to now.
There is a theme common to all: they are the fantasies of the downtrodden. The ugly, the ungifted, and the slaves (or wage slaves). All those who have a motive to
escape life, and an ability to articulate their exigency as a coherent worldview. That's what Transhumanism (in the form in which you wish for it) is, after all: a conceptual revenge against one's current circumstances.
That's why I don't need to fight you, Asakura-san: your worldview is a scream of pain. You are in your own personal hell, and nothing I can say or do would equal the defeat-by-life which permeates your every thought and word regardless.
From the thread you linked me to:
Silently I scream "kill me or release me" but nobody has the guts or the gall, so I linger on, obsessively developing my understanding, shaping it into a blade-like tool for a yet unknown purpose... perhaps I'll escape my human pains through technological ascension, perhaps I'll learn to live a healthier/happier life, perhaps I'll find respite in drugs or delusion, perhaps I'll just die.
All are acceptable scenarios.
These are the words are the
essence of decadence
. You don't know the beauty of loving and being uplifted by life so much that this kind of expression reeks of sickness-made-intellect, nor the joy which is
life as play. You are the downtrodden, the defeated-- and you express your sorry lot in life by rejecting life itself, and dreaming about escaping from it into a heavenly transhuman world.
Now, I wouldn't normally point any of this out, but, given your recent actions: reading that thread made me laugh so hard. I'd normally feel some compassion for you, but that
you, who are living the life
you're living, would try to didactically
advise me in the way you did snuffed that out. Perhaps some people see what I write as foolish, or laugh at it, or misunderstand it, or aren't interested in it; I take that and the immersed
play that is my life over your alternative. Without hesitation. And if you try to infect me with your sickness-- your weak, cowardly, and overly pain-averse experience of life-- I must stamp out the infection like the writhing, sullied parasite that it is. Lest I be sullied by a hint of the ugliness that you wallow in every day.
It's a matter of cleanliness.
It's time to be deleted now, Asakura-san. It's written into the script.
Haruhi.
