Disgust as Insight

Disgust as insight. As gnosis. Disgust as knowledge.


We have to taste the horror.

Tasting is knowledge. Like, visceral knowledge. Tasting is gnosis.


The wine’s confirming what we already know. It’s reminding us of what we know. It’s deepening the knowledge. It’s driving it home. Intensifying it.


It’s, like, embodied knowledge. Lived gnosis. It’s not abstract. It’s not propositional. You can’t convey it in words. You taste it. You’re disgusted by it.


It’s ontological. It’s ontological disgust. It’s absolute disgust. A revulsion at being itself.


There’s knowing and knowing. We have to KNOW, in capitals. We have to be reminded. We have to keep the knowledge alive. Keep the gnosis burning.


The disgust is awakening us. Drunken disgust.


Where’s it supposed to lead us, our disgust? Out of Hell?

More deeply into Hell. It’s more descent. It’s making us descend further. Go deeper.


We’re sinking. And have to sink further still. To the bottom of the world. Not just some Victorian tunnel.


A gnosis of what? Not of a higher, better world. A knowledge of what? Only that this world sucks.


There’s nothing to cure us, nothing to save us, nothing to lift us up, nothing but the void and the void isn’t anything, the void won’t help us, the void won’t come to our aid.


All we can do is live against it all. Which means live in our idiocy. In our unholy idiocy. The idiocy that’s fallen to us. That’s the only thing that is ours.