Table of Contents
This increasingly feels like an age that will sentence death on the Good, and make Devils of those of us who are left.
We have become unmoored from the inherent dignity and worth of human life. We engage in death with morbid glee and encourage the sadism with impunity, like hellhounds drooling at the prospect of a fresh kill for the day. We are energised by needless bloodshed – it is something to consume, like a news bulletin or a meme; and something to share – but not in the beautiful way of art. Rather, in the sick and sordid way of cholera or the plague.
We have forfeit our humanity for partisan absolutism, sacrificed truth for assent, and virtue for popularity. We are, as a species, unhinged, and walking ourselves with a cocksure and absurd certainty into a Hell of our own making.
No age in human history has made a stronger case for madness being the correct diagnosis for the collective – where sanity is the rare holdout of the hated individual whose heart aches at a world collapsing around them; a world in which a mob glorifies your slaughter and writes over the painful and beautiful complexity of your life with vitriolic slander; A world where your virtue is reminted as malevolence and your hopes and dreams will count for naught, let run away into total dilution with your lifeblood as it trickles from your warm, lifeless body on the roadside, to be processed by the same system as the nation’s sewage.
It is a harrowing time where your humanity will be renounced by the vile discourse of the mob and they will vindicate themselves in their miserable hatred, and that boot whose sole purpose is to extinguish the warm light of the human soul will stamp ever harder on the fading light of those who are left.
The business of the Devil makes bold profits at our dear cost.
Was there ever a more fitting time to mourn the loss of civilization and the loss of each individual cruelly spent in the fury – the life drained out of both – with but a single phrase? Here lies a dream.
