True Compassion

I do not aim to cure all your ails.

We can certainly extend a hand to one another, in a mutually beneficial agreement. Definitely! A small exchange on what to do next works too. But I cannot, in good conscience, give you your paradise. Lay down my arms and my home for you to perpetually rest.

Nature doesn’t work like that.

Someone benevolent enough above the power ladder could give us a private isle and every resource they’ve acquired. In fact, if one high up enough so wished, we could end world hunger. Today. It wouldn’t be difficult at all.

The key word though is TODAY.

Today’s conditions may allow today’s granted paradise, with many sweets and fast cars or whatever else you’d want.

But today then ends. Tomorrow comes. Many tomorrows more, and the embedded entropy of the world; what then? The paradise inevitably corrodes, as whatever power formed it today shifts under its weight, or shrinks, or something breaks. In that fallout so the brunt of reality claims the newly dysgenic blood, unable to survive on its own merit.

Solving world hunger today means dealing with advanced world hunger in our tomorrow: quadruple the mouths to feed, helpless to solve their ache. Crop wastelands. A ballooning rat experiment until catastrophe.

Walking around a divine swept tower and all the video games one could want and all the books one could know with all the movies and foods and now years later staring below the balcony, along the wall. See the bricks cracking. Know next is the fall.

Tower demolished, and in that crumble you’ll have to get up. With years of loafing about, in a degenerated state, one may forget the very skills of baseline living. One’s cognition and strength withers.

In some ways I’m quite thankful we are all restricted to only seeing the present. Can you imagine the 500 A.D. trying to make sense of today, with all the online mind rotting? Or us looking at the bloodshed they were used to for each feudal war, of thirty families cut down to five through famines and diseases. But they got back up.

Nature in its design ushers endless conflict, as a divine hand sculpts, and you must remain vigilant. Strife is inevitable, if not in this realm then in realms beyond the stars shall we ever fare. Demands change on the second depending whether we’d meet some aliens, Kaijus to decimate city centers. Who knows what alien fleet waits outside the limits of our home, watching carefully, extracting from the suffering happily. Some folklore calls them demons.

This is why Atlas wishes for broader shoulders.

Because you will never lighten your burdens through discarding or escaping: you only destroy yourself that way. Whichever ones you manage to drop so a new burden spawns right on top, perhaps heavier in the shirking, the degeneration spiral.

If burdens are endless then it only makes sense to become strong and indifferent. They shall lighten until insignificant in proportion to your strength.

The game of life never ends, however many amnesties we could plead. The cycles still rage despite peacetime ordained, as the muscles atrophy, critical thinking too, until one is a plain amoeba in Eden’s silence. Empires to fall.

True compassion comes downstream from that reality: we are put here to become our own gods. We have to break our own chains. To break another’s is to cement their death sentence in Nature’s onslaught rising.

In the darkest hour only you (with your family) can get up.

Please get up! Persevere!

We have some business deals to make…