Time is the elusive nature of the world, the thing that makes it possible for something to both be and not be. The tree bears fruit, and it is dead. The ground is covered in snow, and it is covered in shimmering grass. Both can be true, but time decides which is true at the moment. What is a moment? The elusive nature of the world.
Our prisons are filled with people who committed no violent crime. Drugs. Addiction. We punish the indulgence of these patterns. We jail everyone. A prison state, a police state. But where is prosecution for those who kill thousands under the angelic wing of the state? God is immune from crime. God can commit no crime. God’s murder is infallible, man’s murder warrants Hell. The self-righteous accusers, the archangels with swords raised – when will their reckoning come?
Why do we fear reality? Because reality, for the vast majority of people on this planet, is suffering. There is no armada of good, no army of heroes dedicated to righting the world or making it safe from fire and death. Good, where it does exist, is often punished and marginalized. This is a world where heroes die miserable and anonymous, and a truly villainous ethic, justified murder and justified poverty, operates the levers of power. Who could face such a thing? Surely, no one can internalize it. The world is not as it should be, and it is this tension that creates stress, fear, depression, nihilism and finally the energy that is born in darkness to transcend it all.
By Alex Blum
We are the conquerors of nature, the masters of materiality
And yet we will be destroyed by our own mastery
Climate change is this very reckoning, endemic to our nature
The very fuel we burn to survive will seal our own destruction
The means of industry ensure its own demise, it is the snake swallowing its own tail
Will we gag on it?
By Alex Blum
Fires stains the soul, the demon-soaked world
Haunt rises from the bodies, amassed at the throne of God
He smiles, the lows of demonology alight in His mind
The guilty throne abides by power alone, no ethic to find
Fire and fury are the tools of the devil, pure annihilation is the way of God
The devil steals, God just destroys
The bellowing Demiurge rises through the heavens, grotesque form ascending
Cynical mask against white clouds.
By Alex Blum
Bloodstained Sophia was poised before the silver moon, to blame for the world of matter. Pregnant she stood, beside the world that was cast in her shadow, a universe filled with demons, and in its deepest abyss, in the expanse of deepest darkness, farthest from the light, there was a world that held life.
A pygmy lived upon it. A pygmy, the lowest of all souls, in possession of its own unique and fragile magic. Slithering up from the ocean as slime, the place of the frail pygmy was to inherit the kingdom of consciousness. The imagination, the mind’s eye, created oceans and demons so vast that the physical world could not hold them. The world of creation, the inner world of soaring angels, fire and monsters, palaces and deep seas, the cold and the dark…this was the world of God. This was the world bestowed unto the pygmy, unto the slime which became reptile, the reptile which became ape and the ape which became man. Through the light of evolution, the pygmy was to become greater than the very light which spawned it.
By Alex Blum
The snowy courtyard stood before the church, at the edge of a cliff. A steel black fence lined the perimeter, and each pike ended in a fearsome tip. White smoke billowed from the church, past its bell tower, into the misty sky.
A man stood in the snow, dressed all in white. Ebon hair flowed past his shoulders, and his fingers tingled with discomfort.
“Turn away from here,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “There is nothing for you here.”
Four figures walked through the courtyard, wearing hoods and robes, leaving shallow footprints in the snow.
One of them cracked a smile.
He pushed away his hood, revealing a head of long golden hair.
“If you want to kill me,” said the ebon-haired priest. “Then you will become a corpse. My last rite will be to defeat you, to defend this church.”
His eyes were gray steel.
“This is where a God will be born,” he continued. “If you interfere, then you will be testing the mettle of all creation.”
By Alex Blum
If the universe is in fact infinite, then every point within it could be considered the center. Accordingly, the Earth, and the human species, could literally qualify as the center of an infinite universe. However, so could any empty patch of space, or any pile of dust on any forsaken star. This is the problem of relativism in a nutshell – that in a world without absolute truths, everything is NOT objectively better than nothing. A world filled with life is not better than a barren molten wasteland. A world of creative human beings is not more worthwhile than a world of pure instinct and animality. The ultimate conclusion of this kind of thinking is nihilism, or at least, a tacit acceptance that what we do, in the end, truly does not matter. It is the same value-wise for humanity to wipe itself out as it is for us to conquer the stars. Why muster any will at all?
By Alex Blum
The human being is, to modify a classic viewpoint, an ape with an eye for becoming an archangel. Morally, this is what we seem to be, but on the level of productivity we are far more. The beaver makes a dam. The ant makes tunnels. The chimp makes a straw to suck ants out of tunnels. But humans destroy the entire forest to make a city and put all these creatures in a zoo made by engineers and architects, based on mathematical formulas we’ve created and then go home to our private domiciles and watch television, life recreated through technology and beamed into the eyes of us ‘apes’. We make a Large Hadron Collider, invent law, invent medicine, invent philosophical theories, make art and invent art theories, write books, put on plays, build nuclear weapons, speak in baby voices to little animals and shoot apex predators dead and skin them to mount on our walls.
By Alex Blum
Today I was to speaking to someone (and by speaking I mean texting) about Immanuel Kant, a conversation in which I assessed him as a man of reason. The response: “What do you mean by reason?” was at once facetious and deeply telling of a mindset which has become the spirit of an age. Gone, is the Enlightenment ethos, Kant’s giddy expression of humanity’s light, “Have the courage to use your own reason!” We now live in an age in which reason itself is subjective, where Truth with a capital T means nothing and Plato is naught but an old white fascist. A world where the microaggression merits the recession of the intellect into a safe space, where prejudice is now the original sin that we must all cleanse ourselves of. ‘Prejudice’, which is the formation of almost all our opinions, based on aesthetic preferences and not reason or experience. To purge the human being of prejudice is to force us to find another way to decide on matters of life, love and philosophy – but what? Not reason, which is subjective. Not science, which is a sexist social construct, and least of all religion, which is an old boy’s club of superstition and foolishness. All that’s left to us is the sterile nihilism of a relativistic attitude, a world seen through the lens of race and gender where the goal is a ‘conversation’ but everyone already knows the right answer as soon as they’ve entered the room. The ‘dialogue’ is a farce, because there is only one right answer. However, these are the people who also believe that everything is subjective, save for of course the objective evils of racism and sexism through which all of human existence becomes a clear tale of oppression along superficial lines. The answer to that oppression? To promote cultural change within the bubble of an already liberal school. These social justice proposals shall surely sweep the world stage. The echo chamber, indeed, echoes a little louder.