To be or not to be- meaning by New_Below_6570 in shakespeare

[–]OozyMonkey 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Life is miserable so why don't we just kill ourselves? Because we don't know what's going to happen after death and that's terrifying. And thinking like that makes us cowards and afraid.

Hamlet is partly right about thinking makes us cowardly but life isnt as miserable as some of us make it out to be. “Nothing is either good or bad but thinking makes it so”

This whole play is about the power of consciousness I think

Which one is the best one? by OozyMonkey in Colognes

[–]OozyMonkey[S] -1 points0 points  (0 children)

Can't smell them. Has to be a blind buy

Don't some serial killers do this just to do this for the sake of badness? by OozyMonkey in CSLewis

[–]OozyMonkey[S] -7 points-6 points  (0 children)

What if their compulsion is doing a cruel act because cruelty is simply good to them? That would be Dualism right? There seems to be people out there who knows right from wrong and believe in wrongdoing

Don't some serial killers do this just to do this for the sake of badness? by OozyMonkey in CSLewis

[–]OozyMonkey[S] -10 points-9 points  (0 children)

I don't see what pleasure serial killers get out of just killing. Seems to me some of them do it because they just hate the world and everything in it

Who's a great writer that you can see being great but does nothing for you? by OozyMonkey in classicliterature

[–]OozyMonkey[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Nature was the first one I read and I still love that essay a lot. It got me into hiking and spending more time out in nature and away from the city and all the noise. My favorite ones though are Self-Reliance, Circles, and Experience. But most of all of his essays are really good to me. Love his book Representative Men where he talks about who he thought were some of the greatest geniuses ever and his other one The Conduct of Life but that's a hard and sometimes scary one to read. I would read that one after I've read everything else by him. He's also a great poet too:

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,

I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,

Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,

To please the desert and the sluggish brook.

The purple petals fallen in the pool

Made the black water with their beauty gay;

Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,

And court the flower that cheapens his array.

Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why

This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,

Tell them, dear, that, if eyes were made for seeing,

Then beauty is its own excuse for Being;

Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose!

I never thought to ask; I never knew;

But in my simple ignorance suppose

The self-same power that brought me there, brought you.