Do not go gentle into that dark night
It writes,
Misquoting in memoriam
Within the fog of a march morning
Remembering the dead
-and the dead still living
It reminds itself that it is no different
That it is the worst of these
That there is no one to blame
-but itself
That the Gods are so far beyond comprehension
That hating them is simply an excuse to lie
The masters have indeed taught us well
-for the love of God is truly the love of oneself
And that killing a thing is killing the God within
Woe to the human whose higher intellect has been used for murder, for greed, for usury!
The day of transformation cometh, and you shall be changed into something else entirely!
And if it is nothing at all, why have you not taken comfort in the moment?
Woe to the lazy, the fat-ass, the video-game demigod who has not shared with others his weakness!
It will miss the leveling of worth and the power of truly being!
Woe to the indifferent!
That which has made you is that which you have become -your identity lost.
Woe to the market for attention and souls!
You have sold not only your own, but those of your children.
The crash is forth-coming, and with it
The Greatest of all Depressions.
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