Over the last week of writing and musing I have come to change my understanding of certain things.  The wretched writer I have spoken frequently of in a manner odorous, pleasant, and passive has done something I wish to do.

She had become (albeit accidentally and on a minute scale) a human defibrillator.  She tamed the mighty Zeus and commanded his commission. I have decided that I want that, only on a much larger scale- and I want it to be directed omnidirectionally- controlled chaos.

I am reminded of the great early horror movie line, “there is no hope in chaos”.  I am reminded that the way to personal salvation, (not spiritual) can not be tread by those who seek it, but only unknowingly– the way is found by those prodded like the nietzscheian cattle we all are into all directions, but headed to the same destination.

I want that prod.  I am no shepherd, nor do I follow one (see my last post,) but I want to be a part of the rancher, a cowboy- like I used to pretend to be as a child– where the whole world was open and the sky was a blanket that fell upon man, as he looked to the stars whilst the cattle held their heads down to endlessly and listlessly graze and fail to gaze into the wonders above them.

That is my new goal.

I want to be the direction for my fellow cattle, the thing that gets them to raise their heads above the herd and see beyond the fields in which we graze and ultimately fall– to think beyond the fences put-up presumably for safety, but definitely for control.

I want to be a shock to the system.  The shock that reanimates the heart of society- the shock that startles, yet gently guides.

I want to be a shock to the system- the whole system, our system of government and governance, of society and sociability.

I want to be a human defibrillator.

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