The Traveler at The Edge of The World

“Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.”
Antonio Machado

The traveller sat down on a sand dune and saw nothing. He heard nothing. He feared the worst. He had reached a truly godforsaken place: a vast, mournful pan of emptiness where anything sentient resented anything else that was alive. Every sun-scoured scrap of fauna had barbs, hooks or thorns, every animal had poison, paw or claw. Scorpions scuttled and snakes hissed and slithered while they went about their grisly business of survival. Even sand was an enemy. It burned his feet raw, it stinged his eyes and acted as a surrogate for pain.

His skin felt like scraped by sandpaper, his tongue was cloven to the roof of his mouth. His eyes felt like they’d melted into the back of his mind, making everything seem mirage-like. He knew he was alone, abandoned, and doomed. A colourless heat haze had blurred out the background and his vision had become myopic.

Yet, through the silence, through the nothing, something throbbed, something gleamed. Continue reading

Advertisements

East of Eden

They had laid Abel on a bed of leaves and twigs and branches. Flowers covered his body. The woman sat to his right, crying. Tears flooded her eyes, trembled down her cheeks, fell down her nose. Tears dropped from her chin. Next to her, the man sat upright, peering at the furnace of the sun drawn against the purple haze of the night to come. It was going to be a dark and cold and empty night, he thought.

Soon, the night poured over them. All they could see were the stars nailed against the blankness. East of Eden, at the edge of the world, there was nothing but infinite emptiness. They had been given the greatest gift that had ever been offered to any living thing. They often gazed at the dark sky and could see the liquid mist of morning covering the land. They could see it clearly in their minds and spoke often of it with great pleasure.

“What is going to happen?” the woman asked. Continue reading

The Traveler

Disclaimer: This new project of mine is called God, The Devil, and a Man walk into a bar.

Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Antonio Machado

The traveler sat down on a sand dune and saw nothing. He heard nothing. He feared the worst. He had reached a truly godforsaken place: a vast, mournful pan of emptiness where anything sentient resented anything else that was alive. Every sun-scoured scrap of fauna had barbs, hooks or thorns, every animal had poison, paw or claw. Scorpions scuttled and snakes hissed and slithered while they went about their grisly business of survival. Even sand was an enemy. It burned his feet raw, it stinged his eyes and acted as a surrogate for pain.

His skin felt like scraped by sandpaper, his tongue was cloven to the roof of his mouth. His eyes felt like they’d melted into the back of his mind, making everything seem mirage-like. He knew he was alone, abandoned, and doomed. A colorless heat haze had blurred out the background and his vision had become myopic.

Yet, through the silence, through the nothing, something throbbed, something gleamed. Continue reading

Sacrifice

easter

When I was a kid there were two days I waited eagerly for: Christmas, when it was also my birthday, and I would receive presents and stuff, and Easter.

When I was a kid, Easter to me was silence. It seemed that way, as if the whole world was looking back on something. We were all contemplating a better world, but not with the same hope one holds on the first of January. It was something different, more primordial than that. It was not a promise we made to ourselves, but a promise someone else had made to us. Continue reading

Metaphysical mutations

“Metaphysical mutations – that is to say radical, global transformations in the values to which the majority subscribe – are rare in the history of humanity. The rise of Christianity might be cited as an example.

Once a metaphysical mutation has arisen, it tends to move inexorably toward its logical conclusion. Heedlessly, it sweeps away economic and political systems, aesthetic judgments and social hierarchies. No human agency can halt its progress – nothing except another metaphysical mutation.

It is a fallacy that such metaphysical mutations gain ground only in weakened or declining societies, When Christianity appeared. The Roman Empire was at the height of its powers: supremely organized, it dominated the known world; its technological and military prowess had no rival. Nevertheless, it had no chance. When modern science appeared, medieval Christianity was a complete, comprehensive system which explained both man and the universe; it was the basis for government, the inspiration for knowledge and art, the arbiter of war as of peace and the power behind the production and distribution or wealth – none of which was sufficient to prevent its downfall.” – Michel Houellebecq

I once read an article about Jesus Christ which stated that Jesus was arguably the nicest guy who ever lived. He did change the course of history… yet he took no side, held no titles, commanded no army.

This post is not about religion, but about the mechanism of metaphysical mutations; of what it takes to create lasting change in the world. What it takes to shape human history. Continue reading