To the Harbingers of Meaning

Reads: 116  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic


To the Harbingers of Meaning

 

A thinker should move through the risk of refuting his own presuppositions and arguments in the first utterances he speaks, before validating those same arguments to make of a case his win territory. In a good thinker's mind, however, the duality-bound idea of "winning" or "losing" is non-existent: the 'why' which is often infested by adamancy, arrogance, and the thirst for dominance (more prone to be portrayed in male behavior) is filled by the longing for truthful inquiry. And the others? The others are simply the populace, the lovers of the customary, the followers, the flock.

The reality dissector, the inquirer of the truth, for the truth, is the truly rare in this epoch of masks and socials, of groups and identity politics, politicizing the air out of all that breathes, rigidly preaching to compensate for the misunderstood immaculate conceptions  as seen in the zeal-fueled desperation which make dogmatists slaves to their very ideas. In this epoch of "God is everywhere, God is everything, I am everything and everything is I," even the noblest virtue is fine-tuned to groundless spiritual claims such as "the Men with self-generating-values" in modern spirituality through individuality and neurotic self-centrism. Here the only answer the 'why' is filled by is "self-transcendence", a term often misused until it no longer means anything besides the allegiance to "hustle-culture" preached by self-help books and motivational gurus and "life coaches."

Tell me, modern Man, if I seek to better myself, will I have to drink out of your vegetable-infused juice? Will I have to adhere to environmentalism which portrays climatic change as the danger of dangers? Will I have to start a hashtag-social-movement with my brainwashed community and followers who all walk as the living-dead do with heads and eyes stapled on phone-screens and ads of beauty products? Will I have to buy the latest phone and follow the "hottest trends" and think like the herd that is to say, to not think at all? Will I have to march with you as to preach your idolized pursuit of freedom which is fueled by an ungrateful liberalism and thirst for post-modernist trends? Am I expected to oppose the "tyrannical" patriarchy and be a vehement feminist activist or else to be called a misogynist? Will I have to conform to a withered conservatism out of which totalitarianism flourishes to manipulate the masses? Am I expected to follow your road to theocracy, that is to say, to bow to your temperamental tendency to low openness? This is no call for rebellion! We have had enough of that… Enough of acting without thinking; enough of being a slave to the basest of emotions and dogmatic shallow thinking; enough of being driven by biases, blind spots, and mental restrictions. Your mind is warning you to the risk! Beware of the fallen, neurotic Man! Ask yourself: why are you doing all this? For freedom? For the betterment of mankind? Or for contemptible reasons? Are you afraid of such judgment that collapses the castle you have been building, hitherto supplied to you by your existential self-deception – is it why you need to render consumerism and possessing ideologies encrusted in all? Ask yourself, you modern Man: do you own your ideas... Or are you a slave to them? Are you an agent who believes in the “happiness utopia”? Tell me, why is it that you deify the importance of those chemicals in your neural fabric? Why do you insist upon being happy and wealthy? As to dissemble that which makes you hideous and depraved? Why do you insist to understand your fellow sufferer and to sympathize with the destitute? As to make of your sprinkle a chunk? Tell me, what is it that you beg for? Validation or redemption, goodness or exaltation? Do you yet search for that blitz, that hit you became addicted to as to reward your often-bombarded brain by pledging allegiance to hedonism? What have you become, you ugly creature, you modern Man, writhing your path to the bound and safe? The earth and you yourself are both drearily weeping at the sight of this appalling spectacle. Yes, you both are too cunning to repudiate that which is demonstrated every day.

A sad creature is what you are on the inside. What is more tragic, however, is that you are incapable to see, or yet to accept your predicament. Oh, accept! What am I tattling about? Certainly, you do accept your sadness and lonesomeness. The fear inside is so perceptible that you create for yourself tables, chairs, and ceilings to shelter you from that which renders your heart frostbitten, your mind scorched, your members paralyzed. Is this all the result of fear? Can your life be abbreviated at the scale of making case that, so far, the expression of your will is the result of death-anxiety? Can we ever know? From all your collective efforts and diligence of relativizing opinions and putting them, even rigidly so, on a scale which makes them equal to one another, the tyrannical post-modern abstraction have flourished: and it preaches equality for everyone! Even for the dumb, the uninformed, the retarded, the morally dissolute, the ungroundedly irrational, the rough, inconsiderate and often ill-tempered, behold! Your opinions are equal to the genial, curious, fair, moralistic, the visionary and builder of tomorrow! If anything, this is a call to rejoice, fellow modern Man! Flood your socials with spiritual “self-transcending” ideologies. Meditate to calm your restless brain, and let me judge you, you who meditate! Observe me and be still and see my inefficiency in writing these words! The blindness you accept to undertake, that is to say to shut down your mind and observe as helpful as it can be, and you will see the fixation you impose upon your mind. Consider this – in this epoch of impending mental distress, your responsibility is to think, and think carefully! Think about your sadness, your lonesomeness, be embraced by the depth that calls to you, that glacial abyss, the rift-maker in your heart – let it consume you, and emerge like the dying whale that doesn’t perish: out of the depth before suffocating, no nullifying doom to chill or ignite you! No dispassion or zeal to separately possess you, for they both make the fabric of your will now: it understands the next step; it knows the present and past woe and longs to be exalted through your work and your love; even through melancholy it prevails if it is ripe. And it can be nurtured, forged, and morphed – thus the other Men shall be abashed by your Will to Control and all that concealed goodness you are the harbinger of.

Possessed by goodwill, you shall march on the steps of the previously-fallen-in-combat, and wage the wars which your forefathers failed to be victors in – instead, a projection is what they were able to realize: an abomination, truly. I can feel the souls, and they still cry till this day! And they shall haunt you too, you harbinger of better times, you reviver of meaning – burdensome is your life but not your mind. Often times, you feel the weight in your mind, but your mind is verily the freest. It is your redeemer, the sentinel and lighthouse, your boat returns to when you re-emerge from the icy depths: thus the partial victory of the flame-within on the ice: it is for everyone’s benefit that you will struggle with scars of frostbites and icy winds: so you always remember to herald, to reconnect with your sentinel, to be the farsight of the peoples, the founder of tomorrow despite the sorrow inhabiting your heart. From it, you grow to understand, to listen, to shelter, to preach without pride even if pride is a sin you sometimes are guilty of, to help without receiving thanks, to not cling to futilities, and mostly to forgive by means of forgetting the grudge you held when you were wrongfully wounded. From this all, it is your responsibility, the call-to-heed if your heart longs for meaning, not happiness, as it should – even a quest in which demons must be slain and territories explored procures joy à nul-autre-pareil.

In spite of your words falling on deaf ears, your efforts overlooked by the modern Man, despair not! As this meaning crisis shapes the life of the modern Man, inasmuch as a lack is held accountable for the existence of certain phenomena, the harbinger has to encroach, with his will, beyond the horizons of the known and the customary, to blow the war-horn which calls for the assembling of a heraldic collective, for even heralds need their own kin to not succumb to lonesomeness, for it is the ultimate will-giddier. A new breed of collective, however, must the harbinger look out for in his fellow comrades, the other harbingers: A group they shan’t be, a movement they shan’t be as to not fall into those contemptible modern trends – diligent workers they will be, preachers of thinking and free-thinking, vigilant to human vanity by exposing their own vanity, forewarners against scientism and dogmatism, dissectors of the mind, as harbingers of meaning they will unite by in this mad, ugly world.


Submitted: December 08, 2021

© Copyright 2022 khalil brahem. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by khalil brahem