Imagine a man ripped away from the time of prehistoric hunter-collectors, waking up in a hospital in a city in the 20th century. I wonder if you can. Try to imagine that after his denied youth he so intensely desires to return to his old life, in which his wife hunts daily and he cooks their pot for the opening of their simple thatched shelter, that he decides to step out because there seems to be no other way. That God subsequently sends him back after three days and pushes him into the 21st century to complete his path through hell, while our lonely friend has no clue to the why.
It may be difficult to imagine, but life is really not meant to plow under the yoke of the Western raid until you collapse. To serve the whims of imperialist despots and become a machine that can't even be turned on or shut off. The nihilism of Europe's power- and profit-driven expansion, which is still at its peak on the other side of the now heavily polluted ocean, personified by the absolute low point in the history of humanity, destroys every beauty that life ever had. The path of creativity, art, deepening and spiritualism runs dead in a Faraday cage for most world dwellers, as it was not enough to destroy our own culture, but we also found the urge to destroy the beautiful culture of other, often relatively innocent peoples since time immemorial.
It's impossible to escape. The loner who manages to discover his own path and climb out of the swamp on the way to light and air will get a hard, very hard time. It's like Milton wrote in Paradise Lost: The devil is always looking for accomplices, it is the idea of the collective, together we are strong. To the guillotine with that nobility of freethinkers!
Our terrifying hunter gatherers deserve all our love and praise for the effort they make day after day, night after night to find a way for us out of this jet black maze that we call common progress, but is eating us like vitriol even to the very core of our fabric. Thanks for this image to Voltaire, who was once described as one in which this caustic substance was flowing through his veins and who on his deathbed, answered the priest that was send for and who wanted to persua him to renounce the devil before he went to the other side: "I don't think this is the right time to make new enemies."
This is the image I'm leaving you loyal readers with today. I hope you are able to benefit a little from it. It is poignant that this short tirade will never reach those who could make a difference.
