Harmony is foreign to us. Given all mortal possibilities and limitless opportunities, we choose greed. We speak of natives and naturals, expatriats and ironclad patriotism. We divide by state lines, align to banners and prophets to perpetuate our ravenous hunger.
In God we trust; in each other we suspect treason first, use reason as the second line of defense. Battle-hardened and mettle-tested, mere survival is a treasure that we glorify as victors at the top of the current chain. We align resources against each other, the Art of War our manual for supremacy.
We idolize our gladiators, build vast castles to watch them slay our enemy.
Thumbs down, so say the masses. Life is sacrificed for our amusement and crusade. We cheer loudly with violent spittle, sport the heralds of the winning side. They say,
“Better luck next time.”
But there is no luck involved with these human conquests, no mercy, no conciliation, no humility,
No harmony. I think most intelligent people have a shallow understanding of the concept of equilibrium. True harmony is an exercise of balance and moderation, a restricted spectrum of highs and lows. It is a unique discipline that humankind sacrificed to climb the evolutionary ladder.
An efficient conquest requires appropriate resources and tactics. Once, we employed these skills to stabilize a planet that was wild to our advance. Once the natural world was controlled, our expansion was guaranteed.
Across peaks and seas, plains and savage terrains, we pushed our dominion.
“As God wills it”, they say with holy blades and ironclad crusades, crafting human refugees with every assault and absolution. Generations forget the past and the sacrifices in the name of Benevolence, Scripture becomes policy, harmony is compromised for compliance. Mytholaw creates extremism, elevating gladiators to princes and politicians. We become the beast and the sheep in a common field.
Endless war is assured; the conquest for the Grandest prize given to a Word that keeps our armies marching:
Lulled to sleep by the disharmony, we accept and respect the ruler that shakes in greeting with one hand, and breaks hope with the other. Nothing good can come from this savage slumber. All of the generations of evolution has led us to become slothy soldiers in someone’s else’s war. After all that we’ve achieved and endured, there is one lesson we can’t seem to learn:
The real battle is within, not in the fleecing of another mortal’s skin.