Day 2236, human nature.

Day's pictures, Philosophy

David Hume

Treatise of human nature

Book I: The understanding

Section 1: The origin of our ideas All the perceptions of the human mind fall into two distinct kinds, which I shall call ‘impressions’ and ‘ideas’. These differ in the degrees of force and liveliness with which they strike upon the mind and make their way into our thought or consciousness. The perceptions that enter with most force and violence we may name ‘impressions’; and under this name I bring all our sensations, passions, and emotions, as they make their first appearance in the soul [= ‘mind’; no religious implications]. By ‘ideas’ I mean the faint images of the others in thinking and reasoning: for example, all the perceptions aroused by your reading this book – apart from perceptions arising from sight and touch, and apart from the immediate pleasure or uneasiness your reading may cause in you. I don’t think I need to say much to explain this distinction: everyone will readily perceive for himself the difference between feeling (·impressions·) and thinking (·ideas·).

Read about this book here:

Read this book here:




Day 1848, Prejudices of philosophers 5

Daily picture, Philosophy, Poetry

The philosophers

and pompous thinkers

step in the same puddles

on that road we all walk


its just that they do it

not by accident

but while trying not to



Beyond good and evil, prelude to a philosophy of the future

By Friedrich Nietzsche

First chapter.



That which causes philosophers to be regarded half-distrustfully and half-mockingly, is not the oft-repeated discovery how innocent they are—how often and easily they make mistakes and lose their way, in short, how childish and childlike they are,—but that there is not enough honest dealing with them, whereas they all raise a loud and virtuous outcry when the problem of truthfulness is even hinted at in the remotest manner. They all pose as though their real opinions had been discovered and attained through the self-evolving of a cold, pure, divinely indifferent dialectic (in contrast to all sorts of mystics, who, fairer and foolisher, talk of “inspiration”); whereas, in fact, a prejudiced proposition, idea, or ” suggestion,” which is generally their heart’s desire abstracted and refined, is defended by them with arguments sought out after the event. They are all advocates who do not wish to be regarded as such, generally astute defenders, also, of their prejudices, which they dub ” truths,” —and very far from having the conscience which bravely admits this to itself; very far from having the good taste of the courage which goes so far as to let this be understood, perhaps to warn friend or foe, or in cheerful confidence and self-ridicule. The spectacle of the Tartuffery* of old Kant, equally stiff and decent, with which he entices us into the dialectic by-ways that lead (more correctly mislead) to his” categorical imperative”—makes us fastidious ones smile, we who find no small amusement in spying out the subtle tricks of old moralists and ethical preachers. Or, still more so, the hocuspocus of mathematical form, by means of which Spinoza has as it were clad his philosophy in mail and mask—in fact, the “love of his wisdom,” to translate the term fairly and squarely—in order thereby to strike terror at once into the heart of the assailant who should dare to cast a glance on that invincible maiden, that Pallas Athene**:—how much of personal timidity and vulnerability does this masquerade of a sickly recluse betray!

* hypocrisy

** ancient Greek goddess associated with wisdom, handicraft, and warfare

Translated by Helen Zimmerm


Day 1847, Prejudices of philosophers 4

Daily picture, Philosophy, Poetry

In our life

truth is like a friend from a distant time

a memory we cherish

but one we don’t need



Beyond good and evil, prelude to a philosophy of the future

By Friedrich Nietzsche

First chapter.



The falseness of an opinion is not for us any objection to it: it is here, perhaps, that our new language sounds most strangely. The question is, how far an opinion is life-furthering, life-preserving, species-preserving, perhaps species-rearing; and we are fundamentally inclined to maintain that the falsest opinions (to which the synthetic judgments a priori* belong), are the most indispensable to us; that without a recognition of logical fictions, with out a comparison of reality with the purely imagined world of the absolute and immutable, without a constant counterfeiting of the world by means of numbers, man could not live—that the renunciation of false opinions would be a renunciation of life, a negation of life. To recognize untruth as a condition of life : that is certainly to impugn the traditional ideas of value in a dangerous manner, and a philosophy which ventures to do so, has: thereby alone placed itself beyond good and evil.

Translated by Helen Zimmerm



Day 1846, Prejudices of philosophers 3

Day's pictures, Philosophy, Poetry

When we think hard

like walking up a narrow mountain trail

we tend not to look at the world

the scenery around us

we stair at our feet

and do our next step

on what seems to be true

and safe for ourselves



Beyond good and evil, prelude to a philosophy of the future

By Friedrich Nietzsche

First chapter.



Having kept a sharp eye on philosophers, and having read between their lines long enough, I now say to myself that the greater part of conscious thinking must be counted amongst the instinctive functions, and it is so even in the case of philosophical thinking; one has here to learn anew, as one learned anew about heredity and “innateness.” As little as the act of birth comes into consideration in the whole process and continuation of heredity, just as little is ” being-conscious ” opposed to the instinctive in any decisive sense; the greater part of the conscious thinking of a philosopher is secretly influenced by his instincts, and forced into definite channels. And behind all logic and its seeming sovereignty of movement, there are valuations, or to speak more plainly, physiological demands, for the maintenance of a definite mode of life. For example, that the certain is worth more than the uncertain, that illusion is less valuable than “truth”: such valuations, in spite of their regulative importance for us, might notwithstanding be only superficial valuations, special kinds of niaiserie*, such as may be necessary for the maintenance of beings such as ourselves. Supposing, in effect, that man is not just the “measure of things.” . . .


Translated by Helen Zimmerm


Day 1845, Prejudices of philosophers 2

Daily picture, Philosophy, Poetry

You see the world as evil

that can not bear your pride


your values come from there

but not this rock we’re on


the blindness of our thoughts

is the reason why you hate


Beyond good and evil, prelude to a philosophy of the future

By Friedrich Nietzsche

First chapter.



” How could anything originate out of its opposite? For example, truth out of error? or the Will to Truth out of the will to deception? or the generous deed out of selfishness? Or the pure sun-bright vision of the wise man out of covetousness ? Such genesis is impossible; whoever dreams of it is a fool, nay, worse than a fool; things of the highest value must have a different origin, an origin of their own—in this transitory, seductive, illusory, paltry world, in this turmoil of delusion and cupidity, they cannot have their source. But rather in the lap of Being, in the intransitory, in the concealed God, in the “Thing-in-itself“—there must be their source, and nowhere else!”—This mode of reasoning discloses the typical prejudice by which metaphysicians of all times can be recognised, this mode of valuation is at the back of all their logical procedure; through this “belief” of theirs, they exert themselves for their “knowledge,” for something that is in the end solemnly christened ” the Truth.” The fundamental belief of metaphysicians is the belief in antitheses of values. It never occurred even to the wariest of them to doubt here on the very threshold (where doubt, however, was most necessary); though they had made a solemn vow, ” de omnibus dubitandum” For it may be doubted, firstly, whether antitheses exist at all ; and secondly, whether the popular valuations and antitheses of value upon which metaphysicians have set their seal, are not perhaps merely superficial estimates, merely provisional perspectives, besides being probably made from some corner, perhaps from below—” frog perspectives,” as it were, to borrow an expression current among painters. In spite of all the value which may belong to the true, the positive, and the unselfish, it might be possible that a higher and more fundamental value for life generally should be assigned to pretense, to the will to delusion, to selfishness, and cupidity. It might even be possible that what constitutes the value of those good and respected things, consists precisely in their being insidiously related, knotted, and crocheted to these evil and apparently opposed things—perhaps even in being essentially identical with them. Perhaps ! But who wishes to concern himself with such dangerous ” Perhapses ” ! For that investigation one must await the advent of a new order of philosophers, such as will have other tastes and inclinations, the reverse of those hitherto prevalent—philosophers of the dangerous ” Perhaps ” in every sense of the term. And to speak in all seriousness, I see such new philosophers beginning to appear.

Translated by Helen Zimmerm


Day 1752, tired.

Day's pictures, Philosophy

I live in Trondheim, a normal city in the middle of Norway. If you look at the map you will see that it is only 600km from the polar circle, around the same height as Fairbanks in the middle of Alaska. We have more of a sea climate here so it is not as cold as in Fairbanks, today it was -13. The thing that is strange here, something I am used to, but also not. It is the lack of sunlight. The first ten years in Norway I lived above the polar circle , and there you have some light between 10:00 and 13:00, but we didn’t see the sun for almost two moths. Here in Trondheim we have more daylight, but because I am at work during the day I can only see the sun in the weekends. I think there is a reason why people that live in the North are more mellow, specially compared with the more vibrant people that live closer to the equator. This is just a long way of telling you that today, at the end of the week, I am pretty tired and monotone.

Today I am not gonna write about one of my old poems. When I have little inspiration I will pick one of the books from Friedrich Nietzsche and pick a random aphorism and let my brain chew on that for a while. You can see that I have a separate tab on my blog about Nietzsche. He is not the only philosopher I like to read, but he is the one that spoke to me the most. People sometimes ask me what I like about him, and I have to admit that I have a hard time explaining it, specially when the person that ask me knows only little about philosophy. The problem is that there are no philosophers that stand alone and isolated in history. Every thinker, scientist or inventor stands on the shoulders of his or her predecessors. Nietzsche is one of the first philosophers who also was a psychologist, he is really good in dissecting the mind and pointing at the reasons why we do the things we do. But giving this as a reason is only half the story because attached to Nietzsche are all these predecessors and the people that came after him. Nietzsche is the spill in my world of philosophy, and the spill is important but so is the rest around it.


There are a lot of things we know better now, then before. I rather go to the doctor now then 2000 years ago, the same goes for traveling or just living in a house. All these things have improved over the years. What Nietzsche, off course, talks about, are the so called thinkers and moralizers. If you just pickup a book about the history of philosophy, you will soon realize that the Greek, 2500 years ago, already where walking in the direction we are still going. Around that time there where also other places around the world where people started to think about, and explain the world. Because I am born in the so called west, I recognize more in what the ancient Greek where writing back then then I do with what the thinkers from India or China wrote for instance. You can read text from Greek philosophers that are so modern, that a lot of people today would have problems agreeing with it, because it is to progressive.

We live in modern times but the barbarians are still among us, some are even rulers.

Day 1704, purpose of it all.

Day's pictures, Philosophy

Assume that there is no purpose in life, our life. Assume that our sun will slowly consume all of it’s fuel and at the end this rock we call earth. Assume that all of this has no purpose and that this being here, there and everywhere is all there is.

If we, thinking human beings don’t exist, would it than matter that life on earth has it’s rhythm of life and death? That the great ape’s go extinct and that the sun sets every evening and is nonetheless not remembered the next day. Are we, thinking and remembering human beings not the ones that give all of this “life” and death purpose, albeit only in our head.

This is a poem I wrote in may 2018, Day 777.


Without thought things are nothing

with our existence they get a purpose

Our being is their being.

First of all, we all can agree that we are thinking animals (I know, a lot of people don’t think… that.) Other animals might also think but we not only think with our feelings, emotions and instinct but also with words and reasoning. Even the smartest ape hasn’t written a book telling us we are wrong on this subject.

We think and that’s unique, and I thought: why am I thinking about this particular subject, if a call randomly a thousand people and ask what they think about, probably none of them would say to me that they thought about why the chair is a chair. I guess it is my way of knitting the 14th sweater, it keeps me warm and busy.

Back to the topic of this post: why is a chair a chair. If we wouldn’t be here the chair would just be a miraculously formed combination of metal and plastic. A dog doesn’t see a chair, it sees a nice flat surface raised from the floor where it can sleep safely and warm. It doesn’t say to other dog’s: hey, there is a chair to lie on. No, it says hey, there is a nice flat surface raised from the floor where you can sleep safely and warm. We humans not only create a lot of the things we see, we give it all also a name and with that a specific purpose, for as long as there are humans.

This “purpose” thing does not mean that all of this is for nothing and that it doesn’t matter that the gorilla goes extinct. All of this is created, is given a name and function because we think and that includes our morals and values. We created our morals and values because we think, or maybe better said: because they are a function of us thinking. The gorilla feels a loss when a close one dies, just like we feel it, but we are capable to reflect on the loss and write a poem or music about it. The gorilla morns but we have given what he does a name so we can think about it and value it if others do the same.

Day 1703, un-sorted thoughts.

Day's pictures, Philosophy

In my mind I am still the kid that plays with Playmobil, the castles were real and the world not. I am often reminded of this, especially when I walk into a toy store, on purpose. I don’t mind getting older, it’s just a fact of life but I always thought that when I grow up the people around me would to.

I liked being a kid, like I said before, but I was a dreamer and the politics kids play, the teasing, bullying, the ranking of each other just was something I was not interested in, though I was part of it to. Luckily that is all in the past, I am 48 now and the world is filled with rational people who take care off each other and share the candy fairly.

I still feel like the kid of 12 stuck in a room with “grown-ups” when I am stuck in a room with grown-ups. It’s probably not fair of me, I don’t know what all these people do and what they think. They might as well be stuck in a grown-ups body like I am, playing with Playmobil, but now we are the plastic puppets ourselves with a hammer in the hand or a fireman’s cap on.

I was thinking of this, because I wanted to cheer myself up. My girlfriend is born in America and her skin is darker than other people and she has a brother who sometimes goes outside. Through her I feel the tension that racism brings about in people on the receiving end. And I don’t have to explain what is going on there if you follow the news, it is pathetic.

As a man with a child’s mind I don’t know what to do when I look at the world. I read a lot about the second world war and all that happened there. I realize that there are probably millions of people that would happily climb in to the watchtowers or sort at the end of the rails.

I live in Norway and I left the Netherlands in 2006. I didn’t leave because it was a bad place but the politics was poisoned by populism and the thought that every 10th person I met is in his or her hard a racist was something I couldn’t handle. Here in Norway people don’t talk about politics and I don’t follow the local news so I stuck my head comfortable in the sand.

The reason I have read so many philosophy, psychology and history books is not only because I am curious but because I want to understand when the kid in us get so bitter that it starts hating the other. If you have travelled the world a little bit you might have noticed that all the kids play and act the same, till a certain age.

It’s when we grow up, and stop playing a role and start believing the role we play where it goes wrong.

Day 1702, circle.

Day's pictures, Philosophy, Poetry

I sometimes blame people for not searching the net for an answer, but I now all to well that I’m to blame to. I realized that once again when I looked at my old poems to find one for today. For several weeks, or moths I was writing haiku’s or so I thought…then one night my girlfriend asked me: are you writing haiku’s? I say: yes, and then she said: you realize that haiku’s have 5-7-5 syllables and not words…

my character, off course blamed her first for not telling me sooner, but that happened internally and I was banging my head, also internally…I think…

The “haiku” is from Day 754

Being a brushstroke and shade’s

deep colors pressures sudden turns fading out

our hunger the blank canvas.

I like what I wanted to say but for the last year or so I like to break the sentences as to emphasizes the words and pauses. Since this isn’t a real haiku, it doesn’t even has a seasonal theme, I can now re write it in the style that I use lately.


a brushstroke and shade’s


deep colors


sudden turns

fading out


our hunger

the blank canvas.

Sometimes I read poems from famous poets and feel intimidated by their use of words to describe emotion and other states of mind. English is not my mother tongue but even if I tried in my own languages I would not come close. But I like to try and in this case I wanted to describe our being as “a brushstroke and shade”. Sounds poetic and for me it opens up to a lot of different interpretations, like: we only have one life, or brushstroke and you can swirl it around in different direction and the light will form different shades. You can also go in a straight line and have less shades but you see less and looking back you might get bored by the shape you left…That’s the one that came to my mind now. It is of course not an original story but treating your life as a piece of art entails more than you might think.

The four other lines underneath the first two lines are refinements in the story I just made up, but the last two lines are more mysterious, for me.

Do we hunger for a blank canvas? Is, a nagging feeling of wanting to start over a thing we humans share? You understand by now that I am not looking for answers on question of our daily lives, I want to now what the rails is we ride on and not what the color of the train is.

I realize that wanting to start over entails that you are not satisfied with the live you had, have and live. But it is often mush easier to change the way you look at things and your life then to change it. Realizing that there are not so many things we have control over like accident, diseases, the people we meet or the opportunities we get. You have to conclude that you better find a why to live in piece with these circumstances. Starting over feels like a good idea, if you think that you are in control of what will happen to you. Did you had control over it before?

I was lucky in my life that I got my share of bad luck to try this theory out and I think I came a long way. But this feeling of content that I have is not reached at the end of a line but more a place on a circle close the point where I started, the feeling of despair…expect some interference.

Constructed memory.

My thoughts, Philosophy


Curacao, 1994

Why do I think we all build a structure, a narrative, that explains or bears our existence?

First of all, it’s a story I’ve been telling myself for many years, if I tell you about its origin, I guarantee you that it is…a structure. It probably started while reading a book, but I don’t know what book or where I read it.

We all been in situations where you are certain about a situation, certain facts you remember from the past. Till you meet someone that was with you at the time and recollects it totally different.

Day 1034, we are nothing.

Books, Philosophy, Poetry

Day 1034-1.jpg

when we look over water

where the horizon disappears

the sea follows, has no end

we feel the truth about life

it’s meaningless, we are nothing


Today I finished a book about Friedrich Nietzsche “I am dynamite” by Sue Prideaux. I liked the book, I can recommend it when you are interested in the life of Nietzsche from his youth till after his death.

Day 981, our dreams.

Day's pictures, Philosophy, Poetry

Day 981-1.jpg

My friends, you dead writers, my hope.

You are recited by many, still not understood.

You have turned, ashamed, in your grave, your faith, your fate?

I understand…you, naïve believers.

This worlds reality is still not attached to our dreams.


Though I live as far away as possible from society, “the world” I have to deal with it every now and then. For some reason, most people I interact with, have gotten some rule book in the past that told them how to behave. I always question everything, and I don’t know nothing about a rule book. It seems, for instance, that most people listen to there boss and try to stay in favor with him or her. Well I have a military background and I know when it is important to follow orders. But when there are no bullets flying around the world is in principal a playground where we have to try to make the best out of it. We can make the rules ourselves, together. As long that there are people that can question authority, those in authority have no…authority. It’s like scientific proof, ones you disprove only the littlest rule, or god forbid, assumption, the whole system collapses. A boss that states, or act like, that they know what they are doing invites my scrutiny. The best bosses I have ever head know what they know and what they don’t and are not hiding behind a shield of authority.

The little poem I wrote today goes more or less about this subject. If I talk to people about this I most of the times get weird looks and misunderstanding. But when I read in my (philosophy) books I get confirmed that we humans are fallible and not really that good in making decisions or organizing a society. As I said above, if the bullets are flying around, then there is now time for discussions and group hugs but the workplaces, compagnies and what not that we have created are not mush more than big toys for grownups. We should first try to work together to give everybody a decent meal on their plate and some prospects in life, after that we can start again with our useless consumer/ignorant society.