Ethics, Aesthetics, Love and Wildness

“Ethics and aesthetics are one” Wittgenstein

“Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil” Nietzsche

The tragic beauty of a storm is the power it exerts upon that which it impacts upon. The uprooting of trees, the telegraph poles that crash down, broken walls , peoples hurt – the order and calm disrupted, through the awesome power of the authentic, unfettered flow of Being.

Storms are raging all around us.

We are witnessing the impact and what is being left behind after each independent one, which surmount to a multiplicity of disruptions, leaving behind something naked and uncomfortable.

Nakedness is something that civilised thought finds repulsive.

The unmediated bare flesh revealing what is sought to be hidden.

My route to my eco-anarchist, environmentalist and feral becoming grew from individualist anarchist thought, such as that of Emile Armand, who had this to say of personal nakedness –

Affirmation: to vindicate the ability to live nude, to get naked, to walk around naked, to associate with nudists, with no other care, as one uncovers one’s body, than the possibilities of resisting temperatures. This is to affirm the right to the complete disposition of one’s bodily individuality.

Naked flesh is an iconoclastic form.

It removes the Symbolic mask, which theologises the body into a sacrilegious entity – the immoral-evil, which modesty forbids.

The iconoclasm of the storm reveals that nakedness is neither moral or immoral, but amoral – that nakedness defies such cosmic dualisms and reveals to those who only see the technological enframing, the cultural encoding of civilisation, the authentic beauty of the wild living being that has been denied, repressed, domesticated, hidden.

Only in love and sex, acts which civilisation seeks to regulate so as to keep it enframed by the production narratives of the Symbolic order, is nakedness, unfettered wild being and authenticity allowed within the boundaries of technologies and territories we are encaged by.

The regulation is what sexual and anti-patriarchal liberation movements seek to overcome – authenticity is sought, in an oppressive culture that views (as it requires) the wild beauty of freedom as something immoral.

“Deny the woman. Deny the sodomite. Deny the naked” are laws of the civilised – laws which, due to the vortex of the storm, are being uprooted and are crashing down.

In their wake, we are left with the naked beauty of authentic aesthetics – we are left in an amoral world, which is beyond good and evil.

We are left with the desires of love.

These are sensitive to each individual subject as they desire.

In a sense that is sensitive to the subject, desires are rational to individual welfare, which extends outwards into the multiplicity the subject is immersed within.

In my individual will to power, I find my becoming in my wild, naked authenticity, which is tied to unbounded natural Being and welfare that is tied to the health of the environment I am immersed within.

From this – while I still form personal aesthetic judgements, drawn from personal desire, wherein I share in disgust towards many of the acts and systems which leftists, radicals and liberals also find undesirable abhorrent – I cannot authentically embrace many of the moralist sentiments, which only enframe Being into a new cultural encoding, that surmounts to Symbolic dogma.

My main regret regarding my book Feral Consciousness, is that I didn’t write about love as much as I’d like to now, as love is unbounded by the morals of civilisation and the only basis for resistance or revolt that I can find – the love which fuels the hatred and disgust towards sex-based, gender-based and sexual oppression, relentless ecocide, the violence of poverty and other social narratives that dominate daily life.

Love and aesthetics are messy and complex. Unbounded by moral binaries, they do not fit the reductive discourses of those who want to encode normative values upon action.

No one can direct the love and aesthetics of another, without manipulations, removing the authenticity from the sensation and perhaps why these sensations can cause such internal and external conflict.

I am unapologetic regarding my loves and aesthetics, as I am unapologetic regarding my authentic self, whose growth has drawn from the soil my roots have delved into. I do not ask anyone to deny their authenticity, but will selfishly strive for that which I find most desirable and know, from this, who my enemies are.

We fight the battles that appeal to our sense of love and desire in the ways and means that are available to use. For myself, this leads me, while feeling ties to other aforementioned struggles, focusing on struggles that oppose the relentless destruction of the living world and engaging in activities where I find my feral-being.

I cannot tell another what love will lead them towards, and no one can tell me where to direct my sense of love.

Unbounded and free, love and life are the only basis for value I find to hold any authenticity.

“We […] want to love because we feel love, because love pleases our hearts and our senses, and we experience a higher self-enjoyment in the love for another being.” Max Stirner

“ Free love? As if love is anything but free! Man has bought brains, but all the millions in the world have failed to buy love. Man has subdued bodies, but all the power on earth has been unable to subdue love. Man has conquered whole nations, but all his armies could not conquer love. Man has chained and fettered the spirit, but he has been utterly helpless before love. High on a throne, with all the splendor and pomp his gold can command, man is yet poor and desolate, if love passes him by. And if it stays, the poorest hovel is radiant with warmth, with life and color. Thus love has the magic power to make of a beggar a king. Yes, love is free; it can dwell in no other atmosphere. In freedom it gives itself unreservedly, abundantly, completely. All the laws on the statutes, all the courts in the universe, cannot tear it from the soil, once love has taken root.” Emma Goldman


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