T H E E N D C O M M U N E

There is the sensible world, and the spiritual, or metaphysical world: they are negations to each-other, but they are likewise indeed complementary to each-other, as they are mended in wholeness, the mysterium coniunctionis. Everything that is not made up of stuff has within its geneaology the energy of the numinous, that is, the abstraction we call divine: the soul, love, angst, passion, and God are all sprung out of the great paradoxical sinkhole that is engulfing the sensible, in other words, physical, world. But it is not limited to the confines of the physical world, nor is it halted by the bulwarks of the modern world, which we can observe amongst their kin the conceit and the arrogance of science, the culture of extraversion and hedonism, and the religion of the Jews and all its offspring, exercises, zealous, in thralldom... for sometimes, waters will stir in the sinkhole and rise to the thresholds, and maelstroms will whirl from beneath, the tsunamies of the incomprehensible whipping the coasts and shores of the physical world: when such a thing occurs, the fool will close his eyes, the smug will try to weigh it on a scale, and the ecstatic will call it revelation. Metaphysics are always original to physics; the void original to the space, war original to peace, and death original to life. Did not Tiamat, the glistening and the chaotic one, gnaw her tongue in the depths primordially, and at her death have her scales and her flesh assembled as the heavens and the earth? Did not her beloved son, Great Kingu, have his blood drawn at the fierce blade of Marduk, giving life to the first of the human beings?