Why is Steven Pressfield Saving America?
“WHO AM ï?” | “WHY AM ï HERE?” | “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF Mÿ LIFE?”
If the above questions don’t keep you up at night … ï recommend you grab hold of your cursor, slide it over the small [x] indicating this particular tab and single right click that sonuvabitch. Because everything you read from here on, will be pure shit.
“When fundamentalism wins the world enters a Dark Age”
— Steven Pressfield “thE waR oF arT”
IF THAT’S NOT A SOBERING THOUGHT
Is it possible, here in the US, that we are witnessing the largest fundamentalist movement since the nationally divided days of NORTH vs SOUTH??
The Clock vs The Sun | Trains vs Plows | The Machine vs The Man
Imagine with me, every film you’ve ever seen; every novel, every story. How many can you think of where we, human kind, advance technology into the point of no return?
YOU KNOW THE MYTH
Some way … by hook or by crook, we fuck it all up. We aim too high. We sought progress and understanding but we created BABEL. We were careless. We were greedy. We’ve offended the gods and our natural penance for such a crime; “the end of life as we know it”.
We’re doomed to “reap the whirlwind”. Our robot slaves, initially designed to free us from the constraints of work, have now outsmarted us and taken over our home planet. There can be no victory in advancement. We tried to play “god” and we lost.
Blade Runner | Terminator | The Matrix | iRobot | Minority Report
“wE sweaR, goD, we’ll NEVER do it again …”
— (until next time)
THE QUESTION IS … WHY?
Why are we so terrified of forging our own way? What is that ancient voice inside of all of us?
“What if ï get it wrong?” | “What if ï miscalculate?” | “What if ï FAIL?”
Have we done this all before?? Is this deeply seeded subconscious motif that lives within all of us, some sort of cosmic warning? A remembrance of a life once lived? Or perhaps, more simply, it is the fear of our own TRUE capacity.
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
— Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love
“But WHAT IF!”
[seriously, what IF?]
An “if” that does not yet exist? The “if” in your own unwritten story?
FEAR
Of what? Of something unreal or yet lived. A probable future. The manifestation of your own hell on earth?
Imagine, if you can, the thoughts of our own fundamentalist ancestors:
“TRAINS?? How many horse ranchers will be out of work!?”
“AUTOMOBILES?? How many buggy manufacturers will lose their small businesses!?”
“OIL?? GASOLINE?? How many coal miners will be forced to climb from the pits of hell itself to work in a factory!? Near a city! With books and schools and art and cinema!!!!”
“Outrage! We will NOT HAVE IT!!”
( — 20th Century Fundamentalists)
CHANGE IS SCARY
See, when you are born in “chains”; when all you’ve ever known are chains, your chains feel a helluva lot safer than the impossible task of striking out on your own in search of a new and brighter future.
Bob Dylan left his chains in Hibbing Minnesota. Etta James booked a one way ticket out of her South Central beatings. The Man in Black traded a meaningless life and death on the Arkansas cotton-fields.
FOR WHAT??
To be seen.
To bring forth a new take on an old story.
To inspire the uninspired.
To leave a note … no matter how short or subtle
“ ï was here ”
— (you)
Stoic philosophy gave birth to the individual
Prosperity gave birth to the commissioned artist
Free markets gave birth to the entrepreneur
AND GUESS WHAT
Not one of these was built off the breaking backs of some dying fundamentalist, fighting for anther 2 bucks an hour to make his chains a bit more tolerable.
Theres been rumors of war and wars that have been
The meaning of life has been lost in the wind
And some people thinking that the end is close by;
‘Stead of learning to live they are learning to die
Let me die in my footsteps
Before ï go down under the ground
— Bob Dylan The Bootleg Series
NO
These human inspiring masterpieces were all built and designed on the wings of a few fearless dreamers. Artists and innovators who’s chains, no matter how “normal” society had dubbed them, burned their wrists in a way they would not endure.
“Maybe it’s not the devil and god over our shoulders. Perhaps it’s much simpler than that. Maybe the only “great war”, is that unending battle between the Artist and the Fundamentalist”
— timothy prescott
So what do you say, Creators?
Hell …
Humanity may even depend on us.
