>harm to what?! An abstract?
Death itself is the harm. Death might be the doorway to a potential state of painless non-existence, but the getting there still requires an extreme amount of harm to be committed against oneself, especially if one doesn't have access to guns, or proper drugs, or whatever else. Existential panic can also be an enormous harm in and of itself. You might say to get drunk or to otherwise tranquilize yourself, but even that merely shifts the existential dread back a post and does nothing to really address it directly. As in, the panic to pull the trigger, is simply replaced with the panic of pushing down the plunger on the tranquilizer. Among other things, our bodies are programmed for self-preservation and it can be a struggle, sometimes a massive struggle, to overcome that. A body, as a bundle of simple nerves, doesn't care how much you, as a consciousness, are suffering and it can very easily exert its own force of will in situations like these to prevent the action one otherwise desperately wishes for.
To be clear, I also support suicide. If someone decides to do it, then more power to them. What I don't support is acting like suicide is, even when one is leading an empty and dreadful life that they demonstrably don't enjoy, the next logical and obvious course of action for them to take. An anhedonic zombie can very easily feel paralyzed and unable to move in any direction whatsoever. Crossing the veil between life and death is a massive threshold and one can find death just as unattractive and awful a prospect as life itself. It's called being stuck between a rock and a hard place. It simply feels dishonest to paint Ligotti, or really anyone
else, as having a clear desire to live given their reluctance, if not complete inability, to grapple with that threshold when it simply represents yet another miserable aspect of life itself, albeit the final one. To an anhedonic zombie, grappling with the existential titan of self-annihilation can in fact be equivalent to merely shuffling along in a hopeless and terrible haze. It's just that the effort required for one, is far less than the other, even though both are miserable and horrible to deal with.
>You are only adding life by doing this, that's not the action of someone that thinks life is bad.
Life can still be bad, despite someone going through the motions of base survival. And again, this is also treating suicide as if it is simple as going to a grocery store, divorced from any sort of the struggles and panic that would be involved in actually doing it. You're trying to divorce suicide from the real, tangible, visceral cost it actually has. If humans had bodies where every unconsciously driven nerve was under our complete control and we could simply act with our rational intent, then yes, you'd have a point, but we don't. Being stuck between the two blazing infernos of life and death is a very common and intractable reality for severe depressives and anhedonics. Claiming that this isn't the case and that they can, in the case of depressives/anhedonics who hate life, and ideally should, merely boils down to yet another variation of the tired old, "Just do it, brah", style of advice or way of looking at the world, which places humans as masters of their own fate and capable of following suit with their desires, should they "truly wish them", in the first place. It just seems extremely flippant and willfully obstinate to me to not acknowledge that someone can still find life a miserable chore and almost entirely not find it to be worth living, while also finding suicide to be just as much of a miserable chore as well.
>well the escape door is still inside the prison
That wasn't part of the description, though. You define the picture as a prison where all the gates and doors are open. I define the prison where the walls are 50 feet high, covered in spotlights and barbed wire, with a literal demon sitting at the very top as a sentinel, making escape next to impossible, or at least requiring a great deal of effort. It'd simply be disingenuous, not to mention insane, in that sort of scenario, to expect and say to an inmate to just, "Go climb that wall if you hate it here so much, bro". One can claim that the walls and the demon aren't there and, perhaps for them, that's true. Whereas another can very clearly see that the walls and demon are an utterly intractable reality. Some can easily just pass through the wall, while others are simply forced to climb it, which, in most cases, they'll very likely fail to do, making the prospect of climbing it in the first place even tougher to consider doing, only to then jump into the great unknown on the other side, should they succeed. Whether it's the wall or the prison, one is met with a miserable predicament on both sides. Milling around the yard, or killing time playing ping pong, are also not enough to make up for the many beatings, empty meals, and otherwise awful conditions which makes existing in this prison a torment to otherwise experience.
>Would he just sit there wishing for food too?
That doesn't answer the question, but given your "talk is cheap" mentality, I suppose the answer would be "no", you don't find that enough to remain consistent which is, again, nothing more than you being stubbornly obstinate about the criteria.
>average anhedonic wiz written I wonder
Probably none, but anhedonic wizards still post their thoughts and interact with others on wizchan. What's stopping one from painting anhedonic wizards with the same brush merely because they still exert that sort of effort required to do so? You claim Ligotti isn't really anhedonic, but it seems very arbitrary to qualify anhedonia in the way you've just done. Who draws the line there? Are wizards who masturbate, or even just browse the internet, "truly" anhedonic? Anhedonia is simply a state where you reap no pleasure from what you're doing. One can still pass the time in certain ways to widdle away the hours, it's just that they get no, or very little, pleasure from the actual act of doing such things.
>why you think a functional writer, website and brand owner, is less of a Normal Ordinary and Respectable person than the trainwreck suicidal alcoholic.
Well, it might sound petty to mention, but he's far more wizardly for one thing. Acting as if him writing a couple obscure short stories, and one somewhat controversial non-fiction book that most people have never even heard of, is hardly grounds enough to consider him in any way "loud". On the matter of him being "functional", I don't see how that's relevant. He's roughly equivalent to someone like Christopher Thomas Knight, as far as norpness is concerned. Like CTK, he lives a highly secluded life mostly consisting of quiet reflection on the world and everything else. Calling him a norp because he writes books is just silly. That would also, by your own admission just now, automatically make Osamu a norp as well. An alcoholic, sex having, crotch spawning, norp. Gee, I wonder which one is actually the bigger norp here? The crotch spawning alcoholic sperg, or the guy who sits quietly alone in his home writing books.
>Also publishing books is not quiet at all, requires a lot of organized effort
And drinking, whoring around, and crotch spawning somehow are? Give me a break. Osamu killed himself. Big whoop. He has about as much integrity as a depressive as a succubus like Virginia Wolf does. Both were depressed writers/spergy norps who killed themselves. Trying to elevate sorts like that over Ligotti or Zapffe, who were/are both extremely modest, childless, and wizardly individuals, merely because those norps committed suicide and posturing their apparent struggles with their own normalfaggotry like, "Woe is me, I don't understand my wife and kids. I just want to be human", means more than the struggles of more wizardly individuals is just both insulting and disgusting to write with a straight face, especially here.
>Writing is a life exclusive activity, ping pong is not a prison exclusive activity. Writing affirms life, ping pong does not affirm prison.
If a prison inmate is enjoying their game of ping pong then, by extension, they're also enjoying their time in prison and therefore affirming their time there by virtue of said enjoyment. Acting as if writing has any more significance than ping pong is simply assigning too much arbitrary value to writing. The point being that both are merely a means to kill time. We also can't know whether Ligotti truly enjoys writing or not, since to him it might simply be a way to kill time, the same way a prison inmate plays ping pong to kill time.