In a far corner of space, a forlorn planet. On a good day it is a resplendent opal, an orb of goodness that spreads in every direction. But it has become somewhat bedraggled, as planets go, and has lost some of its lustre. It is sick and sad and searches for a cure to its ills.
It is trapped in solitude, even when surrounded by others. It seems cut off, isolated in space, exiled from all good sense, quarantined even. Quarantined to stop the spread of its plague. Its complement and cargo includes a population of undesirable entities. There are a great many entities there that are fine and good. They are in fact the majority by far, and yet there is a malaise that permeates the society as a whole. Struggling to awaken to the day, struggling even to remain alive. It has what would appear to be an infestation – a parasitic population that has bloomed and become toxic. A parasitic population that threatens the survival of its host.
There are many populations living within its biological realm, each having the power to do some harm, and the power to do some good. As with all populations, this power waxes and wanes with the ebb and flow of time.
Those who walk on this world often seem to have trouble seeing life in proportion and perspective. From the human view point it is sometimes not easy to see their position in historical time, much less cosmic time. It is difficult to see the scale and depth of time that makes their ventures and known history seem slight. Nor is it easy to see the timelessness in which the whole drama plays itself out. Sometimes the timelessness is seen but they forget what they have seen, as it can be difficult to remember. Difficult to remember because there is no thing that it can be related to.
There is a legend of an evolution of species - a hypothesis, a theory, a myth - of sorts. There is some evidence that seems to support such a thesis, but looking at the sad case of the human race as a collective it might seem that very little progress has been made in a very long time. Looking at the course of history of the human race in general it is sometimes difficult to see such a theory as being plausible.
The population is divided into various and tribes and cults and sects – each with their populations overlaid and mingled with the others. Quite apart from the languages of words, they all seem to speak a different language of life.
Each has their field of interest and their arena of action. Each has something in which they derive great pleasure in life. They also have their field of pain in which they feel most acutely the sharp edge of life. Some have more of the one than of the other. Some have more of the other than of the one. Bunged-together into the same matrix they bump and grind and inevitably some form of unease ensues.
A bunch of people all thrown together into the meatgrinder of life. It churns away and before long someone emerges who has decided that they shall be the leader of all of the others. None of the others had noticed any need to be led, nor agreed in any way to such an imposition being put upon them. Shortly after the emerging and proclaiming of leadership, a bunch of toadies, sycophants and followers appear. They emerge as if by some form of spontaneous generation..
As soon as this group emerges a fight breaks out. There is snarling snapping and biting as these brutes determine that they should prove their leadership potential and abilities should they be required to exercise it. They bark and bite and tear at each other – it is their way of presenting their credentials. They viciously attack a few innocent bystanders, as it might influence their place in the hierarchy. It might raise their status and place in the pack. The whole planet lurches and bleeds a little bit more. A few passengers fall off, and a few jump off in dismay.
It has been like this for a very long. It has been a long journey, this tribe on this planet, and little progress has been made. If its passengers could be coaxed to behave a bit better, and care a bit more, then conditions might be a bit different.
But we are stuck here and these are the conditions in which we must live. The time of the predatory hierarchy. Something has clearly gone wrong. The species seem to have abandoned wisdom, and wisdom has abandoned them. So it would seem. The whole tribe is left to fend for themselves. Worst of all is that the brutes who impose themselves as leaders and set the course are but a very small part of the population.
It is not just in the social sphere that these ills are seen. Whole species and genera have given up hope for life in this planet. Toxic growths of matter appears everywhere, the light is dim, and the plants that bear fruit and flowers are reluctant to appear.
For all of the millenia that have passed since humankind first appeared on this planet, the same story has prevailed. Even with the passing of aeons and the cycles of yugas the situation remains the same. It is a sad story, and it is the human condition. The planet is dulled as it bumbles through space.
Amongst its inhabitants there are many who will work to make it a better day. Among its complement there is an array of artists and adepts who will ease the burden of the journey for all who fall into their sphere of influence. Artists, anarchists, acrobats and alchemists, altruists and adepts of every type. Not merely many but perhaps even most of the population. They will forget about themselves and work for others instead. They do so, and the smell that emanates from the leader of the pack eases by degrees. The leaders, their followers and all of the sub-members. The stench of their collective imprint is diminished by gradations, and smidgens of gradations.
The planet has been on a bent course for a very long period of time, and it will be a long time before it can be returned to its true course. So it seems – one would need to be very wishful to see otherwise. But then who knows...
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Omega travels through the alpha beta predator world
Beamed from the Saucer Pod by igor@luminouslaboratoryoflife.com at 08:40 6 comments