After 'knowing' the truth, and being made free consequently, the world order must change. The world, entails my self consciousness, and the narratives that come with it, and the power to name and create. Such that, the last few days have been full of light in areas that have hitherto been dark in my mind, and the consequence has been a radical shift in my 'world experience'. Power is a mysterious word, easier said than understood.

I remember the words of Lord Acton, and I look into my heart, and even the deepest recesses of human nature and its frailties, and even knowing my earthly nature, my heart doesn't despair of a deep love, and earnestness for God, even in his holy presence, and for myself, and for man. Nay, perhaps I should have put myself first and said that I have willingly given myself to find it. And I have no other self to lose. Such that my selfish act is pure love filled with the sight of our identity as humans as implied by 'self consciousness', a product of illumination.

Self consciousness changes the order of things, illumination is a struggle, and the power to name full of responsibility. Yet that's what Revolution is about. The other day I was listening to Robespierre's sentiments as they contemplated what to do with the deposed King. And there the question of Justice and identity arose, and I found no surprise that indeed the Revolution was lost, for the thoughts therein couldn't identify Saint Just and the King. And beheading one was beheading the other.

Instead of the guillotine, true Revolution uses the 'torch' or rather, the Sun. Yet Robespierre, you'll say, invoked the power of the Sun. But how far deep, did the rays penetrate? And now, how much light has penetrated now? The dialectic of history is the path of illumination.

And Revolution is about safeguarding this path, and protecting humanity from destruction. Protecting myself from destruction. Living, becoming.

There's nothing looming over the horizon, everything has already happened. We only remember.

And now we remember King Nebuchadnezzar's statue falling, and a new dialectic building. A golden dialectic for every tribe and nation. And remembering, is happening, being, becoming.

The statue of a morality that can never be pure gold, for alchemy hasn't reached its height, and now only iron and dust rule, despite a golden head.

The rule of iron and clay; base metals, can only offer the ways of evil and slavery, and religions offer no hope but lies. Even our highest moral ideals are wicked, and goodness evil.

I let this thread be, inviting all to come and share the cup of liberty through self reflection, and loving conversation.