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I don't know much about Icelandics but the Finns are supposedly the most extreme in this aspect, very averse to any form of social interaction.

found and ordered already!

I think this dynamic has been particularly pressurized by the online world. How swiftly your sincere authentic showing can be punctured by a sardonic remark. The bathos.

In hindsight maybe this should have been the subject of the thread. Abdicate abdicate!

I actually remember that one now! Sorry to step on your toes there.

Where can one secure a copy of this book by our very own @woops ?

I'm actually not really self conscious, at least not more than the next person. What I was originally was trying to describe was this sense of a dissonance in the ecosystem of culture, ideals, identity and reality that registers as this vast unacknowledged embarassment.

I think I have obscured this thread with multiple different thoughts that were floating through my head last night

Essentially it's about being a self conscious man in the internet age whose idealizations keep him from doing anything because in their light anything that is practically within reach is embarrassing.

Rich you seem like the least neurotic guy on Dissensus. You would never understand this thought. Your portuguese bohemia lies at the opposite end of the spectrum from this point of view.

I think Corpsey would not fight if you were to mount him and begin to strangle him with your hands. He would lie there immobile and look at you with a sulky look of incomprehension. He would let out an endearing little fart and you would be forced to call the whole thing off

I think we are embarrasesd because we a burdened with an heir we don't understand. This is why culture is insufficiently oedipal. The father figure is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The voices in our head have no speaker, no one we can fight, and so the primary outlet for catharsis...

Maybe it tells us something interesting

I had hoped you would understand actually

The opening of Narcissus by Delmore Schwartz The mind is a city like London, Smoky and populous: it is a capital Like Rome, ruined and eternal, Marked by the monuments which no one Now remembers. For the mind, like Rome, contains Catacombs, aqueducts, amphitheatres, palaces, Churches and...

From a certain point of view I think our lives and everything about them is deeply embarassing. There are other points of view, corresponding to other modes of consciousness, where this feeling of embarrassment makes absolutely no sense. But lately I've found myself inhabiting this particular...

I'm reading The Selected Writings of Paul Valery. I like the ones on poetry, there is something good about having a frenchman tell you things like "a poem must be a holiday of mind." You feel at ease.

I am middle class myself, of course, if such a thing exists in Denmark, but instead of the self-abasing routine when someone brings it up, I make a mock crying face and say "Awww did someone not get to go on holiday to Sharm El Sheik?"

To what degree are the people doing the middle class bashing actually middle class themselves? I don't pretend to understand class in Britain but I sometimes get a sense of self conscious anxiety about these rituals and would assume people from the actual working class would be somewhat put...

I'm normally very averse to this stuff but this guy Campagna sounds intriguing. This is a blurb about his latest book called Technic and Magic: