‘If the knowledge the world is currently feeding on were food, it would be Spam.’ ~ EON
The reason modesty remains an inhibitory factor in the advance of those who wish to advance is that hubris is disallowed and persecuted. A massive number of defeated and pathetic modestitians run the show. They band together and take down whoever dares disturb their circles of passivity.
It’s the only way to keep themselves relevant, and they always make sure to make their numbers count, these priests of how-to.
Ever wonder why the world is still operating in the quaint ways of the previous century, maybe even the Middle Ages in some areas: dated, confused, going round in circles, in vicious, perilous spirals, all after humanity has achieved so many things — progress and achievements that make those dreadful eras bygone, and their principles obsolete? Ever wonder why life hinges on so many dated premises when general relativity, quantum theory and other mind-bending discoveries were made roughly a century ago? Why hasn’t reality caught up with the available knowledge?
Because a massive number of defeated and pathetic modestitians and other faux-luminaries stuck in the past and unwilling to embrace the new data — they run the show.
This is a modest person’s world, living out a modest life. This is a contented man’s world, happy to wallow in yesterday’s traditions and practices. A believer’s world. A silent majority playground ruled by propriety. A nanny state’s house rules designed to keep everyone in check. An average state of affairs circling ever closer to the middle.
An awareness retarded by way of convenience, is what it is.
An intelligence frustrated and shackled to the wall of institutionalized mediocrity. Crucified and persecuted at the slightest criticism of the powers that be, at the slightest attempt to redefine our scriptures and doctrines, be they religious or secular.
It’s a fiasco, that’s what it is, an outrageous excuse not to live up to the times, gorging on yesterday’s recycled leftovers, unmentionables and excesses — lapping it all up and calling it progress.
I like to call Spam. A spam existence lived out by spam civilizations.
Intrigued? Watch this space for more.
From the collection of writings EON: THE ANGRY COMING OF AGE