‘Live by the whims of nature, die by the whims of nature. And by nature, I mean everything that exists.’ ~ EON
Rome is dead and buried, yet it somehow lives on, through the legacy it has left behind. So does Ancient Greece and dynastic China, and the empire of the Franks, and a few other great civilizations.
But the Mayans and Aztecs and the rest of the native Americans died a more permanent death. They’re nothing more than a faded memory. Their brutally resounding caveat is a sad story for the ages.
The demise of the native Americans was tragic yet natural. Their bloody fate fell well within the scope of the world as they saw it, in tune with a world determined by the natural paradigm, which they worshipped. They lived by the elements and died by the elements, and none should be surprised by their demise. Disturbed maybe, but not surprised.
The decimation of these proud but ineffective cultures arose from their parochial belief systems. Their fascination with their specific brand of animism proved fatal in terms of development and technology, which they scarcely commanded, especially when compared to the West. They were ill-equipped to compete in a game whose deadly rules they ought to have mastered on account of their uncanny grasp of nature’s workings. They endured the fearsome American weather with all its chaotic imbalances but failed to realize how nature rips through the planes of life without mercy, on all fronts. They knew that harmony hustles with anomaly and disturbance, with mutation and realignment, and yet they didn’t prepare themselves for such an onslaught. They couldn’t. Their culture did not factor in life beyond their narrow worldview.
Thus they were swept away by the Western winds of change and all that they entailed.
Their failure was profound, and their own. The native Americans failed themselves. They were the architects of their own demise which was, over time, facilitated by a storm of fate. They need to own that fact, not deflect it. In the natural world, just as in the pragmatic one, outcome speaks louder than words and intentions. What has taken place is a fait accompli, a precedent that determines the course of the future, of life itself. One needs to own one’s actions and outcomes.
Bottom line, if something’s gone and dead, it’s gone and dead for a reason. It went away because it failed to live up to the task, because it was ambushed and destroyed by an adversary, or simply because luck didn’t roll the dice that day. Or maybe time just ran out.
The point is: what did the dead and buried leave behind? Which parts of them live on, what do they say, how do they affect the unfolding future? Stop trying to glaze over the demise of the departed and you might just figure out the important things their past achievements can teach you. You may even learn a thing or two from their death, such as how to avoid their fate, or postpone it, or even subvert it in favor of another, more challenging eventuality, if you’re smart enough. Raise those standards ever so slightly and up the stakes for the next generation.
The key term is Generation: not the mere next batch of people coming one’s way but the production or creation of something; the propagation of living organisms.
The next generation.
Rome, my friends, is dead and buried, yet it lives on, and so does Ancient Greece, and so does dynastic China and the empire of the Franks and a few other historic civilizations. They live on through the system, which has inherited and applied their wisdom over the ages, in specific times and places.
The Mayans and Aztecs and the native Americans at large, on the other hand, were not so lucky. They died a more permanent death, becoming less of an inspiration and more of a caveat. They killed themselves, becoming an example to avoid.
At least they did that. They made their mark, however sad, avoiding the fate of total anonymity, which the little and insignificant cultures of the world suffer throughout eternity. At least someone knows the Mesoamericans existed, which is more than most peoples of the world can say about themselves, or each other.
Thus spake the generations of the world that lived on, reminiscing over the ones that didn’t. Contemplating the future they were busy constructing, they wrote the world’s history, and still do, and will do for as long as they live.
Intrigued? Watch this space for more.
From the collection of writings EON: THE ANGRY COMING OF AGE