“You may tire of reality but you never tire of dreams.”
– L.M. Montgomery, The Road to Yesterday
Gathered on a hill outside of the City of Wage Slavery, are the young prince and princesses of Promise. They’re about to go to war in defense of their dreams. Victory is not assured, but a worthwhile journey most certainly is. With a strong stare, they survey the city they aim to take. If looks could kill, not one soldier of Capitalism, King of Wage Slavery, would be alive.
There’s something delightfully peculiar about the character structure of these young princes and princesses. They’re not like most other humans; they’re super humans – people who have overcome themselves, and developed their rationality and objectivity to the extreme. Their will to power is strong and they press ahead with the same steely resolve of super humans of the past; super humans such as Jesus, Ghandi, Julius Cesar, Plato, Confucius, Abraham Lincoln, and many others. These are those that have been shaped in silent suffering and they have come out as fine gold. They’ve fallen apart and gotten up again. They have drunken deeply of the Pierian Spring and became drunk with knowledge, and they have drunken deeper still and sobered up. They have climbed many internal mountains and they’ve crossed the abyss which cannot be crossed without faith. They are the Earthly mystics who have become lighthearted and humorous. And they have done all of this at an early age.
There’s no space among the clouds for these Earthly mystics, there’s no expectation of a better life in some metaphysical elsewhere. They’ve not sold their souls to Heaven or Hell. Their only concern is with this world and this life. And they condemn anything that would keep them from living it to the fullest.
Their anthem starts with “did you ever believe? Were you ever a dreamer? Ever imagined heart open and free?” The line is from the song “Vox Populi,” which in English means “voice of the people.” “Peace” is written on their tortured, blood-stained banners, and they’re going to war under that heading. What paradoxes they are! Naturally, it was not their wish to fight, but King Capitalism, the greedy seducer of souls, will not listen to another voice than the voice of Profit, his deceiving son. Profit feigns interest in the citizens of Wage Slavery but his real duty is to himself and father. By some trick, he has caused the populace to trade their souls for vain comforts. To awaken eyes, the more comforts they have, the more he owns them. But the eyes of the people of the City of Wage Slavery are forced shut and they would rather not see the obvious. So, they’ve have become willing slaves, spurred on by ever illusive goals and concealed fear. The majority lead lives of quiet desperation. (But to be fair, they look good doing it). And Most reside in the two largest suburbs of the city, Beautiful Lie and Perfect Denial. And nothing but war will get them to change or move.
“Pray to your God, open your heart. Whatever you do, don’t be afraid of the Dark,” is a line from another one of these young super humans’ favorite songs called “La Nuit du Chausseur” or “Night of the Hunter” in English. It resonates with them deeply because they have faced the darkness within and overcame it or at least integrated it into their personality for positive appeal, which is the first step of being born again.
Singing “Night of the Hunter”, they begin marching towards their enemy. Walking by faith, they can’t fear. Grounded firm and deep in the practice of love, their hearts are at rest. Their yokes are easy, their burdens light. Aided by a machine called Intellect, they have created a safe path though the Slough of Dispassion and will, thereby, make their way to the walls of Wage Slavery within the hour.
War…Urbes constituit aetas, hora dissolvit (Lifetime builds up cities, a single hour ruins them)