Nixon learns about Nietzsche as Antichrist 'Psychonaut'
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Most of the people around Nixon were great technocrats, highly respected, but not politicians. John Connally, the secretary of the treasury, had been at the right hand of Lyndon Johnson and a three-term governor of Texas, so he was a really experienced political operator.
Most people in that period were very sympathetic to the existing global financial system. It had been extremely successful. Most people would have been very hesitant to take a sledgehammer to it. Connally had no hesitation to sever the link between the dollar and gold. He had no hesitation doing anything if he thought it would benefit the U.S. He just didn’t care about the rest of the world and Nixon knew that. Nixon was more sensitive about international implications, but he understood Connally was the perfect battering ram.
Connally’s unknown undersecretary of the treasury was Paul Volcker, who became one of the most significant chairman of the Federal Reserve that we’ve ever had, but at the time, he was a technocrat who understood the international monetary system down to the plumbing.
Though Volcker was an internationalist, Connally respected his technical acumen. They became a close and very effective team. Nixon tolerated Volcker only because Connally needed him.
[from above linked Site]
What's an 'Internationalist' DUDE?
not necessarily Dick...
https://philpapers.org/archive/SJSAPN.pdf
Antichrist Psychonaut: Nietzsche and Psychedelics – Peter Sjöstedt-H –
‘… And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.’ So ends the famous fragment of Kubla Khan by the Romantic poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He tells us that the poem was an immediate transcription of an opium-induced dream he experienced in 1797.
As is known, the Romantic poets and their kin were inspired by the use of psychoactive substances such as opium, the old world’s common pain reliever. Pain elimination is its negative advantage, but its positive attribute lies in the psychedelic (‘mind�revealing’)1 state it can engender – a state described no better than by the original English opium eater himself, Thomas De Quincey: O just and righteous opium! … thou bildest upon the bosom of darkness, out of the fantastic imagery of the brain, cities and temples, beyond the art of Phidias and Praxiteles – beyond the splendours of Babylon and Hekatómpylos; and, “from the anarchy of dreaming sleep,” callest into sunny light the faces of long-buried beauties … thou hast the keys of Paradise, O just, subtle, and mighty opium!
2 Two decades following the publication of these words the First Opium War commences (1839) in which China is martially punished for trying to hinder the British trade of opium to the Chinese people. Though opium, derived from the innocent garden poppy Papavar somniferum, may cradle the keys to Paradise it also clutches the keys to Perdition: its addictive thus potentially ruinous nature is commonly known. Today, partly for these reasons, opiates are mostly illegal without license – stringently so in their most potent forms of morphine and heroin.
Holy dread: the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche took opium, this milk of Paradise, sometimes confessedly in dangerously high doses.
He was also a heavy user of other psychoactive drugs including potassium bromide, a mysterious ‘Javanese narcotic’, and most unremittingly, chloral hydrate, a known hallucinogen.
This narcotic aspect of Nietzsche’s life is neglected; it is the aim of this text to reveal the extent of his drug use and its effects, including a report of one of Nietzsche’s psychedelic trips.
Moreover we shall see how this drug use inspired his philosophy – and how his philosophy inspired this use. Nietzsche was born in 1844 to a Lutheran pastor who died five years thereafter, at the age of thirty-six, due to a ‘softening of the brain’.
This fatal malady of his father’s was to worry Nietzsche, as a possible hereditary condition, until his own mental collapse in 1889.
Friedrich Nietzsche did suffer severe afflictions of the brain and body, beginning in childhood. At the age of thirteen, the severe headaches which were to plague him for the rest of his life began in earnest.
3 So strong were these headaches that near to a whole school semester was lost as the young pupil was prevented from excessive reading by his mother. However, as a bright student, the young Nietzsche surged on and was awarded a place at Schulpforta, a boarding
1 ‘Psychedelic’ is a term coined in 1957 by psychiatrist Dr Humphry Osmond to emphasise the psychotherapeutic value of certain psychoactive drugs, notably LSD. The etymological conjuncts are psyche (mind) and dēloun (to reveal), the latter from dēlos (visible, clear).
I use the term ‘psychedelic’ broadly in this text to refer to a chemically-induced state of mind that brings forth extraordinary representations.
2 Thomas De Quincey, Confessions of an English Opium Eater, pleasures, p. 195. 1821AD. 3 Curtis Cate, p. 13. 2 school renowned for its classical studies.
Nietzsche wore spectacles as he was very myopic even at this early stage. A doctor in the school once examined his eyes and called attention to the possibility that Nietzsche may go blind at an advanced age.4 This foresight virtually bore reality, with Nietzsche complaining that in 1879, ‘in the thirty-sixth year of life, I arrived at the lowest point of my vitality – I still lived, but without being able to see three paces in front of me.’ 5 As Nietzsche’s mother, sister, and others believed6 , it was his poor eyesight combined with his lust for reading that caused his initial migraines.
To counter the pain, Nietzsche eventually turned to drugs.
This in its turn may have exacerbated the problem due to the toxicity, addiction, and withdrawal symptoms those nineteenth century drugs produced.
Nietzsche experimented with drugs early on in life. At the beginning of the 1860s, in Schulpforta, he snorted prohibited snuff with his fellow pupil Paul Deussen, 7 and in his fifth year he joined the ‘Wild Clique’: a fraternal club that endorsed smoking and drinking and spurned studiousness.
Nietzsche, however, came to scorn alcohol but not before he was demoted from his years-long supervisory position as head of class due to an incident of excessive drinking.
8 Whilst a student of philology at Leipzig University in 1868, Nietzsche took time out to join the Prussian military machine, training on horseback.
As the best rider of the new recruits, he was given the wildest steed to tame.
The steed, however, was not for taming: a jump caused Nietzsche a grievous blow to the chest as it cracked into the pommel of the saddle.
Ten days of acute pain were relieved by morphine.
9 In 1869, at the mere age of twenty-four, Nietzsche is appointed chair of classical philology at Basel University10 a month before he is awarded his doctorate (from Leipzig) – awarded, furthermore, without examination.
A year later Nietzsche takes leave of his position to serve as a medic in the Franco-Prussian War.
He is taught how to administer chloroform – a popular anaesthetic at the time. After chloroform’s discovery in 1831 it was also used recreationally as it produced euphoria.
Euphoria, however, was the furthest state of Nietzsche’s mind as he treated the war wounded, a depressing mental state that could only have worsened as he himself became ill there.
As Nietzsche writes to his friend Karl von Gersdorff: I fell very ill myself and quickly developed a severe attack of dysentery and diphtheria. …
After I had been dosed with opium and injections of tannin and silver nitrate for several days, the worst danger was over.
11 As well as contracting these intestinal, bacterial diseases, it is believed that he may have caught syphilis here too, if not in a brothel a few years before.
It is a matter of (much) dispute as to whether Nietzsche’s general malaise and cognitive downfall in 1889 was caused by this mostly sexually transmitted bacterial infection. As we have seen, however, his headaches had started from a young age, and his father may have passed the problem down to his son. Whatever the case may be, Nietzsche’s suffering only increased after 1870 leading to increased drug use to ease the pain.
But it was more than pain relief that the drugs caused. 4 Paul Deussen, 1859-1864. Conversations with Nietzsche, p. 15. 5 Ecce Homo, Wise, §1, p. 38. 6 Elisabeth Förster-Nietzsche, The Life of Nietzsche, vol. II, ch. XXVII. 7 Paul Deussen, 1859-1864. Conversations with Nietzsche, p.10. 8 Paul Deussen, 1859-1864. Conversations with Nietzsche, p.15. 9 Letter to Erwin Rohde, 3rd April 1868.
10 Incidentally where Paracelsus is believed to have re-introduced opium (as Laudanum) to Europe in the sixteenth century. 11 Letter to Karl von Gersdorff, 20th October 1870. My italics. 3 Before Nietzsche had become a professor at Basel, he had become an ardent disciple of the atheist, Idealist philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer.
In a sentence, Schopenhauer asserted that the world we perceive is but a human representation of the inner essence of everything, which is will.
Schopenhauer inspired Nietzsche’s first published book, The Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music, and he arguably returned as inspiration for Nietzsche’s later works. As a highly creative individual, Nietzsche could not have overlooked these words from Schopenhauer: By wine or opium we can intensify and considerably heighten our mental powers, but as soon as the right measure of stimulus is exceeded, the effect will be exactly the opposite.
12 The double role of opium as a medicinal sedative and as an intellectual, artistic catalyst was well known, and Nietzsche was certainly well aware of the creative possibilities of such substances.
In his 1870 essay The Dionysian Worldview, a precursor to the extended Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche begins by stating that, There are two states in which man arrives at the rapturous feeling of existence, namely in dreaming and in intoxication.
13 He then identifies these two states with the gods Apollo and Dionysus, respectively.
Loosely speaking, these are in turn identified with Schopenhauer’s world of representation and of will.
Apollo, commonly adorned with the opium poppy, is valued as signifying ordered beauty, whereas Dionysus, the forest god of wine and trance, is valued as signifying the chaotic drive of unfettered lust and the primal loss of self.
In antiquity, Dionysus was regarded as an exotic god who led a procession of bearded satyrs and wild women: the maenads.
There were a number of Dionysian cults in ancient Greece involving much sex, drugs and loss of control – later to become the orgiastic Bacchanalia against which the Roman authorities legislated under threat of death.
[see My previous Post Dude]
Under his supposed epithet of Iacchus, Dionysus is also closely associated with the Eleusinian Mysteries, beloved of those in psychedelic circles.
The son of Zeus, Dionysus is reborn after death – a story that bears equivalences to Christ.
In Nietzsche’s later works, however, Dionysus becomes explicitly equated to the Antichrist, as we shall show.
In Nietzsche’s early description of the Dionysian state, one cannot help but compare it to a psychoactive drug report with its consequential come down: For the rapture of the Dionysian state with its annihilation of the ordinary bounds and limits of existence contains, while it lasts, a [will-less] lethargic element in which all personal experience of the past became immersed.
This chasm of oblivion separates the worlds of everyday reality and the Dionysian reality. But as soon as this everyday reality re-enters consciousness, it is experienced as such, with nausea: an ascetic, will-negating mood is the fruit of these states. … In the consciousness of awakening from intoxication he sees everywhere the terrible and absurd in human existence: it nauseates him.
Now he understands the wisdom of the forest god.
14 The link between his coinciding opium-treated illnesses in the Franco-Prussian war and his work on Greek tragedy cannot be overlooked.
Indeed Nietzsche made the connection in the later critical preface/postscript he produced for his first book, stating that, 12 Arthur Schopenhauer, Essay on the Freedom of the Will, ch. III. 13 The Dionysian Worldview, §1. 14 The Dionysian Worldview, §3. 4 slowly convalescing from an illness contracted in the field, [I] gave definite form to The Birth of Tragedy…
15 This book puts forward the theory that the origins of Greek tragedy lie in the Dionysian chorus that emerged from the older Dionysian mystical festivals. When fused with the more ordered Apollonian Greek element, the play structure resulted, with Dionysus at first always the tragic protagonist.
The true Dionysian state that the tragic play sought to symbolize was one of rapture, of Rausch: the rush of intoxication.
Thus Nietzsche begins his philosophical career arguing for the emergence of an art form, Tragedy, from intoxicated inspiration.
Nietzsche’s understanding of this state is gleaned from literature including that of Schopenhauer, and perhaps his own intoxication at the time. Schopenhauer argued that all individuality is but a representation (the principium individuationis) and that in its essential depths, our individual will is not separate from the single universal will at the basis of reality.
The Dionysian state causes a dread-inducing fragmentation of one’s represented individuality, conducing a dispersion of oneself into that deeper metaphysical unity.
Nietzsche continues, If we add to this dread the blissful ecstasy which, prompted by the same fragmentation of the principium individuationis, rises up from man’s innermost core, indeed from nature, we are vouchsafed a glimpse into the nature of the Dionysiac, most immediately understandable to using the analogy of intoxication.
Under the influence of the narcotic potion hymned by all primitive men and peoples, or in the powerful approach of spring, joyfully penetrating the whole of nature, those Dionysiac urges are awakened, and as they grow more intense, subjectivity becomes a complete forgetting of the self.
16 In his later postscripted preface to the book, Nietzsche argues that this Dionysian ‘madness’ might be a ‘neurosis of health’ – that is, a healthy madness which would only appear to be an oxymoron to a culture in decline.
In this added section he writes, Might visions and hallucinations not have been shared by whole communities, by whole cult gatherings? And what if … it was madness itself, to use a phrase of Plato’s, that brought the greatest blessings upon Greece?
17 Hence Nietzsche, from the outset, was enthused about narcotic, psychedelic intoxication and its value, whilst simultaneously he himself was becoming increasingly intoxicated as his illness progressed.
Progress it did: severe insomnia, stomach and intestinal pains, eyestrain and increasing blindness creeps up upon his person. In 1876 he is granted a long period of absence from Basel due to his sickness. Many of his personal letters complain of his ailments, to the extent that one judges him to be a ‘justified hypochondriac’, if that also be not an oxymoron. In 1879 he was forced to completely end his professorship and life at Basel University due to frequent and excessive headaches, nausea, vomiting and seizures.18 As a result, Nietzsche was now free to pursue an unlimited life of philosophy, which had progressively become his ideal. Though he left, his ailments did not. The beginning of the 1880s were in fact his most intense period of pain.
As well as suffering physiologically, he was saddened by the loss of his friendship with Lou Salomé and Paul Rée. Just before he begins to write what he considered 15 The Birth of Tragedy, Attempt at a Self-Criticism, §1, p. 3. 16 The Birth of Tragedy, §1, pp. 16-17. 17 The Birth of Tragedy, Attempt at a Self-Criticism, §4, pp. 6-7. 18 See Curtis Cate, Friedrich Nietzsche, p. 280. 5 to be his masterpiece, Thus Spoke Zarathustra,
19 he writes to his two formerly close friends the following: My dears, Lou and Rée: … Consider me, the two of you, as a semilunatic with a sore head who has been totally bewildered by long solitude. To this, I think, sensible insight into the state of things I have come after taking a huge dose of opium – in desperation. But instead of losing my reason as a result, I seem at last to have come to reason.
…20 Over a decade later Lou Salomé writes in her book, Friedrich Nietzsche in seinen Werken, that intoxication and dreams were a central inspiration to Nietzsche’s life and philosophy. She writes, Nietzsche … was convinced that especially during conditions of intoxication and dream, a fullness of the past could be revived in the individual’s present.
Dreams always played a great role in his life and thinking, and during his last years he often drew from them – as with the solution of a riddle – the contents of his teachings. In this manner he employed, for instance, the dream related in Zarathustra (II, “The Soothsayer”), which came to him in the fall of 1882 in Leipzig; he never tired of carrying it about him and interpreting it.
21 With his concurrent opium use one can compare the inspiration derived from such opium�induced dreaming with that of the Romantics, to whom Nietzsche was ostensibly averse.
Nietzsche was also, famously, averse to alcohol – which he compared unfavourably to opiates in his 1882 book, The Joyous Science: Perhaps Asians are distinguished above Europeans by a capacity for longer, deeper calm; even their opiates have a slow effect and require patience, as opposed to the disgusting suddenness of the European poison, alcohol.
22 The reverence and inspiration that Nietzsche derives from opium can also be witnessed in the second edition of that same work, in two poems inspired by poppy-derived opium: … Only on my bed flailed, Poppy and good conscience, those Trusted soporifics, failed. … One hour passed, or two, or three– Or a year? – when suddenly All my thoughts and mind were drowned In timeless monotony: An abyss without a ground Opened up – not one more sound. …23 19 Published in January 1883. 20 Letter to Lou Salomé and Paul Rée, mid-December 1882. 21 Lou Salomé, Friedrich Nietzsche in seinen Werken, ch. III, p. 144. Also note especially in Zarathustra these chapters: Of Great Events, the coffin-of-masks nightmare in The Prophet, The Stillest Hour, Of The Three Evil Things, and The Intoxicated Song. 22 The Joyous Science, Book I, §43. 23 The Joyous Science, Appendix, The Mysterious Bark, p. 359
sometimes you eat the bar.. sometimes the bar-it eats you..
or Nietzsche; 'sometimes you look into the abyss sometimes the abyss looks into you.'. Dude
its a game lol !
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