Alcohol, Faust, and The Devil

This is my Understanding from Faust. I am drunk, and hence the alcohol speaks. It speaks true. But — It is the Devil that speaks. (And I am not the Devil.) What Devil? Goethe’s Devil, not the Devil of the Bible. Who speaks? The Devil in Me. What is that? Goethe’s Devil, again. (I repeat myself, for a purpose.)

Remember Nietzsche? “Hell is eternal repetition”? This is what I have achieved in the preceding Paragraph. It is Hell.

Remember Goethe? “Only that which is fruitful is true”? That is true, and true again: I am attempting, while drunk, to drill some sense into mindless people. [This, they call the sheeple as of 2013.]

So what is my Point?

That is the Point. There is no Point, no Grundlage, for what I write here. Gentle Reader, does that make sense to you in 2013?

In the rare Event that it does not, I beg to remind you that no Thing makes Sense, and I, making no Sense, am “in sync” with the World. What did you do today?

Spent You Time on Facebook? What did you see? Faces? Did you care for those Faces? Or were you looking for your Self? Did you perform Activity there? You did so out of Vanity.

Spent Time on Google? Apart from useful Things, what did you do? You merely killed Time? Or?

Spent Time with your Smartphone? What did You achieve? You enjoyed the Time? You killed Time? What else did you do?

Took the Time out to entertain… took the Time out to…. took the Time out to… and then? How better are You than a Drinker of Ethyl Alcohol, such as I am?

I am better than you. Why? Because I am writing This, and You are reading This. That is why I am better than You.

Every Paragraph I write begins with an “I”, and hence I began this one without. Even though I am drunk.

That is my Strength: to ken what is strong.

It seems too simple, and all this is too complex for the Modern World, where the Word is degraded, where Music is called Rap.

My Friend John F Penner, where art thou? Are you still Writing?

And may this be the Lesson to All: Drink, and You will be Pointless — in other Words, without Point. But That is the Point.

Drink and be merry!


The story of Faust tells it All. When drunk, we are at Auerbach’s Kelller. When in Love, we are in Marthen’s Garten. When in Sin, we are in Gretchen’s Stube. When in deep Trouble, we are in Kerker. When upheld, the Archangel Ariel tends to us. When uplifted, we are in the Emperor’s Court. When dreaming within the upheld Court, we are in Greece, among the Griffons and the Sirens. When back on Earth, we are with the Devil.

We each have our personal Devils, but Goethe painted the Archetypal Devil: Mephistopheles.

We are with the Devil, and He thinks we are done for. And so he digs our Grave. (Englishcer-Deutscher mixup: Graben im Deutschen ist same gleich als the Grabe. And “die” ist “die” as in “die Grabe”.) And then, blinded, we fall in, and We are dead. And Gretchen –  and then Mother Mary — comes: not as Saviour, but as reminder: The woman will make you go on.

You need no Saviour. You need a Woman. My Woman is Alcohol. Faust is the Story of Alcohol.

That is the stupidest Thing I have said. It is because I am drunk. Alcohol melds itself to every Story.

But does the Above not make sense? (Pun intended.)

I rest my case. (My cask.)

Endurance / Hanging In There

What they call Interests, those have gone;

New ones in their place must be born;

I sit, pensive, pensive ’bout nothing –

Nowhere to go and nothing to sing –

And when I try, ’tis the world’s own discord;

But I can still listen to the Lord.


What they call Passions, those I control;

For if I don’t, they’ll cause misery untold;

I sit motionless, thinking about but nothing –

The heavens to attain if thought but took wing!

But such’s not to try, for it moves of its own accord;

Yet, in such dimness, I can listen to the Lord.


What they call Strength, in me I don’t witness;

Call it or strength, or life, or passion, or finesse;

All’s sapped into but a single thought –

A thought of nothingness, one large Nought;

No Should nor Ought for me now. I can’t afford

Not to keep listening and listening to the Lord.


Beethoven-Lord empowers the survival-will

Of those by Life made miserable-ill;

I go to him who Acts not on Whim;

For dear life now I hang by Him.


The system of time division of the ancient Hindus features a profoundly interesting pattern: Mathematically, it builds up from Man to God (see Beethoven and the God-Conception), and experientially, it builds up according to the time dilation and expansion we have, at some time or the other, experienced.

From Wikipedia: One tithi (lunar day) is the time it takes for the longitudinal angle between the moon and the Sun to increase by 12 degrees. Tithis vary in duration from approximately 19 to approximately 26 hours.

One paksa (lunar fortnight) consists of 15 tithis.

One Maasa (lunar month) is twice the above.

One Hritu (season) lasts 2 Maasa

Three Hritus make one Ayana, two of which make a human year.

This is one day of the gods (the devas).

4,800 divine years equalling 1,728,000 human years equal one Satyug (one grand era of perfect peace).

3,600 divine years, equalling 1,296,000 human years is one Tretah Yuga (one grand era of relative equanimity).

2,400 divine years, equalling 864,000 human years is one Dvaapara Yuga, which is one grand era of degenerated lawfulness.

1,200 divine years, which is 432,000 human years, equals one Kali Yuga, an era of the present kind.

So, 12,000 divine years, summing the four Yugas, equals 4,320,000 human years; this is called one Mahaa-Yuga.

A thousand Mahaa-Yugas equal a Kalpa, which is one day (only the day; not the night) of Brahma, the Creator.



From the Music we have heard, we may devise a similar, albeit not perfectly accurate, system of time:



One Music-Microcosm is the time it takes for the Mind’s eye to broaden by 12 degrees. Music-Elements vary in duration from 19 to 26 minutes; 60 Music-Microcosms, by repetition, comprise a Music-Element.

One Theme (or Variation), for us a fortnight’s worth of truth and music, consists of 15 Music-Elements.

One Theme & Variation pair (for us, a month’s worth of truth and music) is twice the above.

One Movement lasts 2 Themes.

Three Movements make one Master-composition, two of which make a human year. This is one day of the Gods (any of the four Masters).

4,800 Mozart-years (equalling 1,728,000 human years) equal a grand era of perfect peace.

3,600 Schubert-years, equalling 1,296,000 human years equal one grand era of sad equanimity.

2,400 Brahms-years, equalling 864,000 human years, is one grand era of cunning victory, which also encompasses sentimentality.

1,200 divine years, which is 432,000 human years, equals one Beethoven-Era, an era we have as our Legacy.

So, 12,000 divine years, summing the Grand Years of the Four Masters, equals 4,320,000 human years; this is called one Mastermusic-Aeon.

In contrast with the system of the ancient Hindus, in the Music of the kind we have heard, time lies condensed within time: A thousand Mastermusic-Aeons equal one Supreme-Beethoven, the last movement of Opus 131, String Quartet Nr. 14 in C# minor. Ludwig van Beethoven’s Mastermovement, unheeding to – yet irrevocably part of – one Mastermusic-Aeon is contained within the Scheme of Time He Himself decides. With this, His Day is done (cf Wagner).