The descendants of Nimrod

(ES)

God never had a plan for humanity. There is no supreme end, nor harmony at the end of times. There is no vice nor virtue. Nor blame nor sin, nor cause nor purpose. There is no sentence nor redemption, no eternal life, nor righteous nor sinners. There is only consciousness, freedom and passion.

A persistent will that propels the inert and the living as phenomenons of space, time and causality, has fun watching the Universe free and in perpetual conflict, where even the negligible particles that form it, subjected to that will, collide and transform themselves.

It's illusory building a Tower of Babel to reach heaven, since there is no virtue nor truth in it. Why challenge a God that mocks human beings, if we have to give up our freedom and our power in favor of the descendants of Nimrod? Those who know the human being and promise the daily bread and the kingdoms and wealth of this World  in return for his freedom and power.

Rebelling against an unfair God, whose miracles and advent, as a proof of its existence, we are expecting uselessly, is as useless as the wait itself. He, on his heavenly throne, keeps on laughing at his creation, repudiating it for giving up its freedom.

Rebellion of human being is, or should be, a rebellion against itself, against its indifference, against its apathy, against its fear of freedom.

From this rebellion, that recognizes freedom, dignity and passion of all human beings, will be born the man and the woman free, compassionate and able to develop all their potentiality through the empowerment of the individual and collective subject that acts according to a plan: BEING

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The Suicide of God

(ES)

We can recognize the injustice and indignity of human life where and when it occurs. We can recognize the perversity of any social, political and economic system that objectifies life, reducing human beings to mere automatons, and their relationship with nature to domination/exploitation.

We assume our impotence as creators in front of our civilizing work that dominates us. We forget that history has been an unfinished human creation and unable to continue our work until the end of the story, we accept that the end of civilization is the only end of history that mankind will know.

When humanity gave their freedom to the point that turn men and women in replaceable parts of a system created by themselves, God, discontented with his work, rebelled against his creation and assumed his helplessness to the point of destroying himself. In turn, humanity, abandoned in a unfair world, full of suffering, also rebels against its own God.

With a dead God, no longer able to destroy its creation, the human being, become a God on earth, runs the same fate that metaphysical God, that in an nihilistic impulse rushed to self-destruction.

Gods rebel against their creation, and is their work that finally kills the creator.

We are about to leap into the void, first of all was the metaphysical rebellion, and now is the collective suicide of mankind. We rebel against the system that oppresses us,  assuming our powerlessness to change it, understanding well that we must die at the same time that our creation.

This is the feeling of the rebel, who contemplates his own death as the ultimate affirmation. But if our work does not die with us, if humanity can overcome its nihilistic impulse, there is still hope: let us observe the world with compassion, as well as  we empower ourselves to free us from the control of our creation, with the aim of building up the world we want, not over the ruins of civilization, but on the foundations of the man and woman compassionate with themselves and their environment. 

© Ahmad Mahmoud/IRIN

 
There is only one human experience that we all share throughout history, a life to live and share for the full development of the potentialities of humanity.


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The lost descendants

(ES)

An absent eternity, far away from consciousness and existence, interrupted only by the loneliness of insistent life.

Children walk through a sandstorm in Tillaberi region, Niger (Feb 2012)
© Jaspreet Kindra/IRIN

Sometimes, the dream: that intermittent death that frees us from our existence.

There is no cruelty in death. Every man and every woman aspires to eternity. Cruelty is life itself which awakens us from that eternal sleep and mercilessly reveals that we are not omnipotent nor omniscient. Cruelty discovered in the absence of divinity and the fight for survival.
Life is a fault of the eternal, an absurd parentheses in which negligible particles of the Universe collide and engulf each other.

I assume cruelty of life without hope. I observe it with compassion on the way to the eternal.

Given the absurdity of life there is no more rebellious attitude than that of being compassionate. Coming into the world is not an act of compassion, but of cruelty and neglect. We are the lost descendants of cruelty, our ephemeral rebellion is that of compassion.

Sometimes compassion: that dream of eternity that frees us from our existence while we are awakened.

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The heart does not rest

(ES)

Runaway hearts, afraid of the present.
In an immutable and indifferent Universe,
childlike yearnings, hopes dashed:
abandoned lives.

Recover that instant of happiness,
before anguish begins again.
The terror that is repeated in drum rolls of death.
The heart does not rest,
life goes on.

A child's painting from Swat seeking an end to violence
© Kamila Hyat/IRIN

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A letter to E.

(ES)

 

Hello E,

I haven't found  time nor words to respond, and after reading your letter on several occasions and at different times, it was not until today that I found the right word: recommence.

    "All Sisyphus' silent joy is contained therein. His fate belongs to him"

    "The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart . One must imagine Sisyphus happy"

    The myth of Sisyphus - Albert Camus


Recommence. I also fancy you happy, as well as Sisyphus, fully aware of your existence, of your freedom and of a fate that belongs to you. Recommence, again and again: that is the human dimension. Recommence to make yourself again, in that neverending construction project that is the human being. Recommence despite the absurd, the successes, the failures, the fears, the certainties... despite the life itself. Because life is that: recommence.

In your search for the Absolute, you have found the truth inside of you, where it always was, where it always will be.

You, like Sisyphus, in the hour of consciousness, are superior to your fate; stronger than your rock.

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