Occidere

I have now decided, personally and perhaps to myself alone, to no longer call the World wars, “World” wars, for they were not an affair of the whole world. There is no one word for world.

I regard the title of the newspaper “Le Monde” as a lie, that has become a definition. The gross domestic product, the economy, money and the dollar bill as forceful, powerful and incomprehensible abstractions. Democracy, an absurdity, that demands people to understand complex abstract things, while distracting them all the time. The Olympic games as an imposition of a particular cultural heritage on the world masquerading as openness and equality.

I realized that what I thought was Modern is but another word for Western, Occidental. Occidere is old french for falling, for the part of the sky where the sun falls, what a powerful thing comes from such a simple word. What is in a name? The word is the beginning and the end of an understanding, atoms and gravity exist for most of us because they tell us, the world exists as it is because of the words we use.

But aren’t we all one… ah… but another meaningless abstraction.

But I am almost certain that I could argue in favour of all these words, and my desire for understanding and clarity sickens me.

After all It is those I resist, from whom I learn to resist, and so it always is, for as they say “It is better to be a man of paradox, than a man of prejudice”.

If Ferdowsi hadn’t fought for his language, the Iranians would be speaking arabic today, what would it matter, nothing really matters. The poor bastard spent his whole life writing the Shahname, only to be given old age and death in the end.

I sit in my chair, arbitrer of what is right and wrong, with complete clarity of what should and shouldn’t be, and then I get back to my miserable work: Perfecting my imperfections, succeding and thus failing, failing and thus succeding.

As Omar Khayyam said, ‘ Drink and forget the troubles of the 72 nations’ , and as Pessoa said ‘there are only two things that stop us from acting, one is sensitivity and the second is analytical thinking, which is in itself a kind of sensitivity’, ‘Thinking is not knowing how to live’

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