Unimaginable Perhaps; But The Unimaginable Is There

You Are Going To End Up As One Of Those Sad Old Men Who Poke Around In Rubbish Bins.” “i’m Going To End Up In A Hole In The Ground... And So Are You. So Are We All.

Scapegoating Worked In Practice While It Still Had Religious Powers Behind It. You Loaded The Sins Of The City On To The Goat’s Back And Drove It Out, And The City Was Cleansed. It Worked Because Everyone Knew How To Read The Ritual, Including The Gods. Then The Gods Died, And All Of A Sudden You Had To Cleanse The City Without Divine Help. Real Actions Were Demanded Instead Of Symbolism The Censor Was Born, In The Roman Sense. Watchfulness Became The Watchword: The Watchfulness Of All Over All. Purgation Was Replaced By The Purge.

Deprived Of Human Intercourse, I Inevitably Overvalue The Imagination And Expect It To Make The Mundane Glow With An Aura Of Self-transcendence. Yet Why These Glorious Sunsets, I Ask Myself, If Nature Does Not Speak To Us With Tongues Of Fire.

Anyone Who Says That Life Matters Less To An Animal Than It Does To Us Has Not Held In His Hands An Animal Fighting For Its Life. The Whole Of The Being Of The Animal Is Thrown Into That Fight, Without Reserve. When You Say That The Fight Lacks A Dimension Of Intellectual Or Imaginative Horror, I Agree. It Is Not The Mode Of Being Animals To Have An Intellectual Horror: Their Whole Being Is In The Living Flesh...i Urge You To Walk, Flank To Flank, Beside The Beast That Is Prodded Down The Chute To His Executioner.

I Know Somewhat Too Much; And From This Knowledge, Once One Has Been Infected, There Seems To Be No Recovering.