Demosophia

Friendless Unite

I am utterly despondent. I just can't believe I have so little value for so many, including myself. I don't suppose I will ever really know why. The irony is that I think I'd have enormous value some day, but too late in the game to matter.

Then comes the realization. At a certain point after being valued at or below zero for so long by so many one either just commits suicide or one begins to live for... revenge. If one could replace the deficit of love with fear one could conceivably recover one day, while remaining simply acquiescent one is doomed to sink beneath the waves. The number of people for whom this sovereign traveller has been a marginally positive influence in life is literally uncountable, but not a single valuation sufficiently in the black to justify survival. And yet nearly all of those tardy hands and hearts, if motivated by a little fear and self preservation, would extend themselves beyond reason and endurance to enable one simply to avoid even the modest discomfort of stubbing a toe. Ah, the human condition. Thus, is born, a Saddam or an Osama, or a Robert Mugabe. A simple calculation at the bottom of the pit. Welcome, brother!

Yet I can't believe it. I can't believe that this, even if true in some naked empirical sense, is much more than monumental compounded foolishness... and that in all that crowd of inconsiderate, selfish indifference there isn't one person worth the effort to survive, let alone excel, without drawing on the accumulated store of malice. And indeed there is. One person. One person with insufficient faith in evil to trust one's fate to it. And if one, then perhaps several. And if several, then perhaps many. And if many, then perhaps... a world.

But one is enough.

The scale of life is such that it's not commensurate with malice. The latter escapes through holes in the former as though it were a tuna net cast to haul in a catch of minnows.

Posted by Demosophist at June 14, 2005 12:57 AM | TrackBack