|Agonia.Net | Policy | Advertising||Contact | Participate|
|Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique|
￭ a perfect death
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2014-02-22 | |
From the religious thinkers who associated this intelligently complex Universe with a "believed in" entity capable of it, through Francis Crick to Ridley Scott, mankind seem to have been left with with a sense of some desperate need to reverse engineer this "miracle called life", back to something more plausible than an accident; something their rational minds wouldn't need to accept following only an intellectual lobotomy.
This, mankind's continuous search for reasons, for logic where life-facts were offered for acceptance, forces the mind and the heart to doubt anything "a priori", mainly when the authority behind the offer is the same with the one demanding unquestionable obedience, sincere submission.
If we are capable of anything worth being mentioned, then I would chose mankind's innate incapacity for uncoerced stupidity; we just can't freely love what's being forced upon us.
Oh yes, we will love O'Brian and his likes, but only following a well-planned facial rendes-vous with a cage-load of hungry rats; but that ain't love, babe...
Some time after leaving Christianity's well designed "golden cage", I stumbled in my tired search for raisons d'Ítre, upon Phillip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" famous trilogy. Liberated, but still having shackles protruding through my thoughts, I have found peace; the peace only a rather weird freedom to hate, any being, beings, God or gods, anyone claiming responsibility and/or authority for, and over this utter mess called "existence".
Even though, for a writer's reasons Pullmann singled out the Vatican as the Magisterium responsible for being the accomplice of a long gone authority, senile and confined by other, "ascending to authority" authorities, to a state of mental oblivion, I discovered the sublime peace which arrives only upon the sweet wings of hate, as I said, of anyone and anything having to do with injustice. Because as I also mentioned, we are innately incapable of loving injustice, and I dare say, even in a degenerate state of some doing it, injustice has always a source, an arche-place of ignition, a cause of which those acting it, are only pathetic effects...
Unfortunately and as usual, we seem to have been conditioned to "cause blindness", which prevents us from ever seeing the true cause at the origin of the tentacle ramified effects. Because THERE IS, THERE MUST BE an arche-authority which by perpetrating itself through innumerable aeons, has fooled us into accepting any other authority instead of the adult, responsible, independent and autonomous authority of SELF...
And anyone or anything claiming authority beyond the rightful boundaries of SELF, is by its very own nature an usurper, worthy of oblivion.
Because "power's" other name is "authority"...
- to be continued...-
|Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests.|