All you who clamour selflessness, humility, equality of worth, FOR ALL--you, who cannot bear any burden of pride--do you not see how the puny bees even perish for the protection of their Queen, the jealousy of wolves--how these rituals in Nature bring such blood, sustenance, nobility and glory to their kind? Where is the religion in such things? Where do you find any lie or falsity in all their holy buzzing and their gathering, as you find yourselves at "home"? Do you not see how your feigned leaders, swaying you with their words, compromised promises, their sullied breaths, how they keep you miserably "safe" in all your lazy, inverted- deluded-bitterness?
Hierarchy is divine, rank is to stand upright; it's in the very history of these words, the history you've been bred and fed, drunken into oblivion, then consoled to erase--rank is in the way you reek, it's all-too-transparent in the wretch of your self-despise. It's in the
ressentiment you harboured toward everything free of use, free of manipulation, free of time and place--
anything full of play and innocence you find
intolerable to behold. Nature itself as a divine chasm with no fathomable ground nor heaven to hold up its stars, despite what your fathers have lain. The
stellar beings shall all ever hold, and form, and swerve in a fatal dance,
suspended by love--indifferently moved--with
every being in Time
, as I once loved you.Your democracy as a sham, just a preliminary stage before the final corruption is complete, and the rot reveals itself, like that of a stump on a decapitated corpse, as any democratic regime has become, in all man's history--
the rule of the common man--a short ruse following the beheadings of kings, of gods, despots, the revelry of mobs, then the inexonerable stockpiling of the treasures of divine empires. Where lie all the fabled gold of Babylon now? Do you know
just what rotten democracies become? You cowards!
Your leaders, surely crackpots, crooked from their birth, and their oily spirit,
if you can call it that, trickles down into your very skins, through bureaucrats, and bosses, and bus drivers, and uppity schoolmasters
, careerist swines, them all! I smell you whenever I stand too long on the streets, when I leave this empty room, you and your petty kind, gorging yourselves with the illusions of these spectres borrowed from a
power you'll
never dream of within
such a life. I curse, I spit, I trample upon your ways, as I depart for a land cursed
a thousandfold what you have seen or even heard, my homeland from which I've been stripped, to fill my hardened heart with
all the curses upon which I've ever had a claim, and I will be moved
--once more again. AND YOU will be beautified, sanctified, purified, in your everlasting demise, like the flicker of each comet, failing, falling from the infinity of sky, incorporated in the springtime glory of a new star's ascent. Then
--and only then--shall I find myself returning here again.
So I leave America then. To somewhere in Europe, a secret Imperium of
unseen light and
unfailing protection I now retrace my ancient steps. The wheel turns again, the spiral-circling renews, while ascent can appear from your perspective only always as a decline. Unlike your kind, I do not run from; I move now towards.
Therein lies our distance and our divide.
But YOU! My inexorable friend, and champion of my youth
! I know that
You live. Will you meet me there, alas!
"O my brothers, your nobility should not look backward but ahead! Exiles shall you be from all father-and forefather-lands! Your children's land shall you love: for this love shall be your new nobility--the undiscovered land in the most distant sea. For that I bid your sails search and search.
In your children you shall make amends for being the children of your fathers: thus shall you redeem all that is past. This new tablet I place over you." - Thus Spoke Zarathustra