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1. Splitting apart

Updated: Dec 18, 2020



We will leave you alone to die in the cold, in the tracks of our wagons. This has been the law of movement, for eskimos and wagon drivers, for centuries: this is the cold retirement. It is the law of the river, it is the law of war: it is the law of life. America has taken this law to its greatest extent in her twin expansions: outwards, to the far West and California and, eventually, outer space itself; inwards, into the exploration of consciousness through psychedelic drugs and the Internet. America is the last expression of Europe’s Faustian drive towards infinite expansion; her last act, the last of Western civilisation, will be to seed the outer worlds with life. The biological substrate of European man will continue under new, vital conditions. This step outwards and upwards will also be a return; for, as you know—if you probe deeply enough—we came from the stars, from the forge of war. Consciousness, personified in the gods, is ready to welcome us back into the black velvet of space.

Splitting apart. It does not always do to split, to break. To break a marriage will never do; to break an oath of loyalty will never do; and to break an altar is the highest crime. There is a moment when division is required; the cells tearing themselves apart to reproduce bear witness to it daily. If you want to live, leave. We know the relief that comes over us when a guest leaves after staying too long, old friend or old relative: enough. The void is a very beautiful thing, her stillness is kindness. It is the kindness that is so cold that it has become warm. At the end, all will be one again; for now, the very dissolution is what maintains life at its most primitive level.

Now is the time to fall upward. But to be away from the Earth does not have to mean that we will abandon the spirit. The spirit abides on a cosmological scale, and, for Europeans, so rightly chastised as the cold men from the north—the warriors and untrustworthy smiths whose forges have brought blood and gold to the world—the spirit abides in the outer darkness. We only need to reach up and pluck a black apple from the sky. Far better to go this way than to stay Earth-bound, to stay with those who detest us and those who forever raise an accusing hand. Let the Earth be their dominion if that be their wish! There are Earths enough in the stars; and, if we find no Earth, we shall build one. We shall forge it from cosmic dust and errant comets. That is the way we have always been.

For those who complain that Europe has brought enough blood to the world this destiny is pleasing: there are no squabbles at a distance. Let the giants ride their rockets home and let Mother Earth settle accounts, for good or ill. The cries of protest and the burning cities fade into the distance; many demand that the giants return, since their protest was a demand for more parasitism—not less. The strongest voices come from among the giants themselves; it is those giants who have forgotten themselves who remain the most dangerous: they will incite the mob to clasp at the feet of those men who climb the sky ladder. Words are worse violence than steel spears; words bind us to the Earth: we do better to think in pictures alone, to manipulate space and not other people. Space means clean emotions forever.

There is a great cosmos out there and there is room enough for every man to be a god over his own planet. This is every man’s desire; we have explored within, within the womb of consciousness and the tendrils of the Internet, so like the tendrils of a psychedelic mushroom, for too long. We must move out, and let the ways part.

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