Now I’ll sound my muezzin again. The man by himself. ‘Allah bismallah! God is God and man is man and has a soul of his own. Each man to himself! Each man back to his own soul! Alone, alone, with his own soul alone. God is God and man is man and the man in the street is a louse.’ Whatever your relativity, that’s the starting point and the finishing point: a man alone with his own soul: and the dark God beyond him.
Oh, we have fallen! And we fall further and further each and every day. Humanity is loved by God just as Orpheus loved Eurydice, and as such, when God’s love causes Him to look back upon His creation, we fall, fall, fall into the hell of our own creation. I met a man in the street, who was more machine than man, and I told him so; I stated the following: “Dear Sir, The machine has got you by the gills, it has its fish hook buried deep inside of you, you have a silicon coated body, a mind made up of circuits, a robotic heart, and a microchip encrusted soul. You are more machine, more computer than man!” To which he responded: “Thank you. That is a wonderful compliment.” So sad, so sad, sadness incarnate. Now, in our desire to be gods, we have become nothing; entities far less than the bugs, we squash under our shoes. We are null, void, personifications of emptiness. Oh, how we have fallen; only the Gods know how far, and only the Gods can save us now.