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Astranbrulth, I know this may sound strange coming from me, but I don't believe you're low enough to be classified as a subhuman. One that low would have been offended by now, or at least had turned away never to look at me the same, maybe flaunt few unpleasant remarks here and there, you...however...
smile! in return! How damn refreshing!

You are worthy of my time.
Astranbrulth:
You are correct, in that I have an evolutionary outlook on things. Let me freely admit that your philosophical knowledge is much greater than my own, (partly because I am drawn to logical, concrete causes and effects), I have only dabbled in the field. This is possibly why I find it hard to penetrate the core of your argument. One the one hand you deny religion (and God??) but on the other you postulate the spontaneous occurrence of a noble man, 'perfect' in every aspect. Are you now talking about *genetic* perfection or *spiritual* perfection? Because if you admit to spiritual perfection, then we are starting to acknowledge the existence of God, and all the consequences of that. And, it seems to me, that if we talk about genetic perfection, then, according to the laws of nature, we are talking of the "master race", because genes get passed on.
Let me clarify few things. I deny religion completely, that's true. But I don't deny the chance of God. I am exactly in the middle of path, between belief and unbelief. I find that those who claim to "believe" are quite innocent to the matter they believe in - we are speaking about a miracle here! something so profound, so inhuman, so beyond human, so
impossible! How can anyone easily utter the words of belief as if it was an everyday language? how can anyone
rest at the fact that he believes? do they
feel what they are choosing to believe in, do they feel its grandness, its impossibility, its risk, do they behold its impenetrable depths? And yet how easily they claim they "believe." I would imagine a one who believes to be endlessly preoccupied with the enigma of belief - one has not a chance to live this modern life, with its conventionalities and thinness. Yet...how with such ease they claim they "believe," with such dissatisfying vulgarity that offends anyone who hears; so easily spewed from the very mouth of the subhuman, we hear "I am a believer" - as easily and automatically he inhales and exhales the air which he does not care about, he claims he believes, with the same exact carelessness...
...on the other hand, how much
responsibility must one claim to say he does not believe, that he is an "atheist." What a profound claim! It is as deep and thought-provoking, as enigmatic and heart-throbbing as the one who says he believes. And yet, like the believers, he who says he does not believe is always overtaken by the same businesses and rush of living, that he, too, forgets what
life is.
Die uns das leben gaben, herrliche Gerfühle...Erstarren in dem irdischen Gewühle! The ecstasies that launched us to this life in which we live today, congeals in the muddled business of living! The unbeliever is as empty of passion, spirit, as empty of life, as the believer, who is supposed to be
the example of a great life.
...everyone says he believes, everyone says he disbelieves, and yet our believers and disbelievers are one and the same - they are both hasty businessmen, drawn to conventionalities, avoidant of anything thoughtfully difficult, fearful of risks, and in the end, living as a machine would: they strive for one thing - happiness and peace of mind. Everything else is unimportant. Their entire life is nothing more than a basic principle of pursuit of sensual pleasure and avoiding psychological pain...
…and yet to believe or to disbelieve: it is the same story, with the same psychological demands and pains. But who is ever so meditative enough today, who is...responsible...enough to claim whether he believes or disbelieves, to in fact
choose the grounds on which he stands? who is strong enough, who has the capacity and depth?
…and what if there was a one who is exactly this meditative upon this inexhaustible matter? He will remain in the middle of the path, exactly believing and disbelieving, doubting and embracing, holding and letting go, and that is,
forever sustained in the web of his very being. One realizes at the end that it’s not a matter of belief or disbelief, rather a matter of something entirely different, far more profound and sublime than mere belief or disbelief. What matters is God? What matters the
lack of God? The issue returns to itself over and over again, and the issue has always been and will always be...
man. It is our own mortality, our impending death, the passing of time, the
meaninglessness of life without our own desires, that is the entire subject, and not merely "God"!
At this rate, one never arrives to the end! One lives in eternity! Who ever had a morality or a law that didn't seek the end of all actions? Rather, not all actions
need an end or a purpose! But it is the wretched modern man that demands for an end to all means, when honestly, some of us, few of us, are capable of the mean alone - what matters is the end?
If you ask me to be precise, I will sound offending to the common ears: I believe in God. I disbelieve in God. I know the answer, but I know nothing at all. Do not mistake me for he who says he "does not know" or that he "cannot know." Oh, far beyond that I am! far too
knowing! Yet I know nothing at all...
To speak about the rest of your case, at this point, I must say that you
exactly strike me where nobody has hit me yet. The matter of "spiritual" versus "genetical." I don't think there is a specific "form" which the noble man necessarily abides. In fact, far less strict and "formed" he is. This "ideal" man of which I speak is, however, "spontaneous" as you say, and in that I mean that purity of heart, to him, is not a compulsion. It is not a law. He tolerates because he is
greater, not because of you or I tell him to. He does not follow the law - he is
great enough to
be the very spirit of the law. He is, perhaps, the example upon which laws and rules are build. He is a Christ. He is a Buddha. He is a Socrates. His life is restrained not "for good," but out of this natural beauty and cleanliness of which I speak. He is, if anything,
not good - he simply
is, and it is the onlookers and passersby who call him this "good." He is not a philosopher, or a "thinker," not a prophet, not a legend, not a hero - he simply
is himself involuntarily, out of Nature, and in his case, it is a noble nature which every inferior animal attempts to clone by the means of education, preaching, “religion,” “virtue,” “philosophy,” “God,” in short: civilization…
…civilization is precisely this sickness and strive to inwardly become what this noble man is, but they establish this not inwardly, not naturally, but outwardly –
scientifically, philosophically, "objectively." This endless strive to achieve what other men did
not achieve is superfluous and will lead to the dead end for humanity.
...if there's a God, when there's a God...his joke is clear: they who belong in heaven are born from the very light of heaven. They who are born inferior and "fallen," fall from the very rejection that God bestowed upon them. They are "accidents." Hence, they have their laws, morals, religions, reasons, sciences, philosophies, and an entire history and civilization all striving for one goal and one goal only: to “better” the way in which we live, that is: to live with ease and peace, as the noble men have, as the noble men
will. But that is all very comical. One day man will realize that his strive is futile – that those whom are doomed, are doomed from the very beginning, and those whom are great, are great from the very beginning as well. One day, a day which draws near, a day which
I draw near, is coming, where man realizes his fatality...
There will be no law in this universe, no morality, no philosophy, no science, that can accomplish the spontaneity of the noble man. He is exactly this rare and this noble, this precious: no one has the right to be him, except he who is him…
Who is deep enough to hear what I'm by now not saying, but merely sighing?