Saturday, January 19, 2008

How I learned to love the apocalypse

If life is a sea, then the end must be the shore.

The end of us all is an under-appreciated theme, much like death itself. It makes cameos in this civilization: it's a side effect of exploding films and it's in zombie movies and some albums of music which I love. It's in crazy Scandinavian metal bands and in some crazy people scattered here and there, but everyone else is being steadily eaten by the insane desire of immortality.

They talk about it with comforting metaphors and reassure themselves that death is not the end. They cry when they lose loved ones and mourn each death, they pretend as if no end can come, they wear their terror on their sleeves and cover themselves in darkness when one leaves.

Else they buld cults to immortality, they find cosmic loopholes to jump through to save themslves. The righteous are taken up to heaven, the brave in battle are spirited away to valhalla, an underworld is the dwelling place of the dead.

It is necessary that death occur, and no superstition may stay its hand.

The scope is greater at The End; if each death is needed, then great numbers of the living demand many deaths. Going on forever gets you nowhere. A glorious snuffing out is the only way.

I could speak of balance, but the balance is tipped in favor of massive all-consuming hordes spreading like a cancer. Mere balance would not cease the ravaging growth, it would delay it only a little.

But an End, a mass-destruction, would return some normalcy, some sanity, by way of struggling chaos. Primitive conditions would teach this population what it means to Worship, for they would worship huddled together in the mud, bowing to figures in hopes of bringing the rain, dancing in hopes of finding bounty rather than starvation at the end of a harvest.

The fat and happy peoples of this world will understand death and they will appreciate it, or else it will break their minds. It will break them, and they will continue to prattle on about the sorrows of those left behind by the dying, they will continue to dream of heavens for their friends and fantasize about hells for their enemies, and they will rebuild what they now have until, once again, they bring about their fall, a Ragnarök to cleanse and begin the world anew.

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