Players meant to be their own playwrights
Branches blocked out the sun, denying saplings sunlight
The tenants foreclosed on the landlord
The clay criticized the potter
But for our sake the God became a priest
The Divine became a prophet
The last shall be first
The dispossessed and the untouchable
became precious belongings and firmly embraced siblings and kin
Aliens became neighbors
The disaffected and disenfranchised found their voice and were listened too and heard
Widows and barren women became mothers
Orphans became heirs
The king of kings became servant of all
The innocent became the atoning sacrifice
His death conquered death
The stone the builders rejected became the cornerstone
So that the scattered could become gathered
The many could become one
The divergent could become equal
Disciples became friends
Followers became leaders
Members parts of the whole
Students became masters
Fishermen altered the course of civilization
Revolutionary became establishment
and the persecuted began persecuting
Pilgrims sought religious freedom in order to be able to establish theocracies
and the lions are thrown to the christians
So now we have Sartre looking around and saying, “look at this shit- someone spewed toothpaste everywhere!”
Kierkegaard tries to spread around the tooth paste evenly so at least everyone has to deal with the same toothpaste, whereas Hegel is so pissed off that he’s demanding that everyone put their “God-smitten” toothpaste back in their freakin’ tubes!!!
Anyway, I think it’s pretty ironic that so many Hegelians are so afraid of Hume and Berkley that they end up practicing Nietchzeism- even though they decry Nietchze as an atheist and blame him for all our post-modern predicaments.
The same sorts laud John Stuart Mill but unwittingly exercise Darwinism more than any Darwinian would because they imagine he was a blithering blasphemist, when in fact he was quite devout.
In the end the Machiavellians win, which (ironically again) is a heinous sin. Irony of ironies is that we thinks that his tongue was in his cheek, satirizing the very vile vermin who’ve taken him so much to heart.
So Socrates asks Pascal “what if we’re not all being tricked by an evil genie after all?”
Descartes doubts there ever was a genie while Plato studies shadows on the wall.
Meanwhile Thomas Hobbes shakes Adam Smith’s hand, but it’s a short, brutish shake. John Locke clears the table, and Sartre is caught between being and nothingess, looking for an exit.
Alice B. Toklas: Gertrude? Gertrude? What is the answer? What is the answer?
Gertrude Stein (on her death bead): What was the question?
