Heidegger

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Van: heidegger-bounces at soca.ecu.edu.au namens bob scheetz
Verzonden: zo 6-8-2006 3:10
Aan: Discussions pertaining to the philosophy of Martin Heidegger
Onderwerp: Re: amadeus absconditus

—– Original Message —–
From: “Bakker, R.B.M. de”
To: “Discussions pertaining to the philosophy of Martin Heidegger”

Sent: Saturday, August 05, 2006 6:05 AM
Subject: RE: amadeus absconditus

Well i’ll wait here, till you, rational beings, are able to respond.

but let it be said that unability to do so, shows. - that is another side
of the name-less: that also denial and stubborn Eigensinn have no
place to hide from it. So as long as nobody responds you are all,
except Jud maybe, striking yourselves out. I would advise to take that
seriously, but you are free (eh!) to do so. Cosi fan tutte!

rene,
In these frantic days of precision slaughtering refugee women and
babies, how can any topic else have standing? instead of obsessively
playing the desparate suffering of the victims of his gangster gov’t, as he
ought, the pianoplayer is sounding false notes of mozartian whimsy.

“Alles geht hinein, Schlangen gleich.”

what about ‘playfulness, being a very important thing” ?

Bob to Rene, 199?

and how important is it now?

you know that i have never closed my eyes for the gangsters.

i explained you why, again and again, one should not deal with

consequential scum. That was all very reasonable, but you sticked to … precisely.

still yours

rene

ah now i see, jesus as dialectical warrior, made along the own portret

der mensch wohnt dichterisch

and that means playfully. Playfulness is a serious matter - as you say

bob

Then be men, and say that i am an idiot, if you dare.

We can then talk about what an idiot is.

You see: there is no way out. There is no way to get rid of the
pianoplayer,

there’ll always be one who says: “i shoot”.

so i plead, as i did 2 years ago: don’t shoot the pianoplayer.

there’s one thing i must know still: did Hölderlin know
the Wohltemperierte Klavier.

yesterday i played for a colleage, educated pianist and with whom
i did the Mozart quatre-mains. He heared the wonder, but he could
not admit-it. He began to play himself, ever worse, in order to outtune me.
Freed from widerwille, i had great difficulty to hear such falsity, but
easily
held out. When i came home there was a note by my son, that the little
cat was gone, and that it was my fault.

meanwhile i ’spoke’ with the other, old cat, and my thoughts go elsewhere.

or had you me rather laying in the corner cryin’?

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Posted on Saturday, August 5th, 2006 at 2:55 pm
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