Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part one, Chapter four, The despisers of the body. To
the despisers of the body, will I speak my word?
I wish them neither to learn afresh nor teach anew,
but only to bid farewell to their own bodies, and
thus be dumb. Body am I, and soul? So saith
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the child, And why should one not speak like children?
But the awakened one, the knowing one saith. Body am
I entirely and nothing more. And soul is only the
name of something in the body. The body is a
big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and
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a peace, a flock and a shepherd. An instrument of
thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which
thou callest spirit, a little instrument in plaything of thy
big sagacity. Ego, sayest thou, and art proud of that word.
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But the greater thing in which thou art unwilling to
believe is thy body, with its big sagacity. It saith
not ego. But doeth it what the sense feeleth, what
the spirit discerneth, hath never its end in itself? But
sense and spirit would fain persuade thee that they are
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the end of all things so vain are they instruments
and playthings are a sense and spirit behind them, there
is still the self. The self seeketh with the eyes
of the senses. It hearkeneth also with the ears of
the spirit. Ever hearkeneth the Self and seeketh it compareth, mastereth, conquereth,
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and destroyeth. It ruleth, and is also the ego's ruler
behind thy thoughts and feelings. My brother, there is a
mighty lord and un known sage. It is called self.
It dwelleth in thy body. It is thy body. There
is more sagacity in thy body than in thy best wisdom.
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And who then knoweth why thy body requireth just thy
best wisdom. Thyself laugheth at thine nego and its proud prancings.
What are these prancings and flights of thought? Unto me?
It saith to itself a by way to my purpose.
I am the leading string of the ego and the
prompter of its notions. The self saith unto the ego
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feel pain, and thereupon it suffereth and thinketh how it
might put an end there too. And for that very
purpose it is meant to think the self saith unto
the ego feel pleasure. Thereupon it rejoiceth and thinketh how
it may ofttimes rejoice. And for that very purpose it
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is meant to think. To the despisers of the body,
will I speak a word that they despise? Is caused
by their esteem? What is it that created? Esteeming and
despising and worth and will? The creating self created for
itself esteeming and despising. It created for itself joy and woe,
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the creating body created for itself spirit as a hand
to its will. Even in your folly and despising, ye
each serve yourself, ye despisers of the body. I tell
you your very self wanteth to die and turneth away
from life. No longer can yourself do that which it
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desireth most, create beyond itself. That is what it desireth most,
that is all its fervor. But it is now too
late to do so. So your self wisheth to succumb, ye,
despisers of the body, to succum, So wisheth yourself? And
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therefore have ye become despisers of the body, For ye
can no longer create beyond yourselves. And therefore are ye
now angry with life and with the earth, and unconscious
envy is in the sidelong look of your contempt. I
go not your way, ye despisers of the body. Ye
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are no bridges for me to the Superman. Thus spake Zarathustra,
end of Chapter four.