Dear, Critical Race Theorists I understand your notion on equity. I truly do. As it is a thing lacking in our culture, for all people. I understand the slogan "Black Lives Matter." This just gets into the fact that I am just like you. I suffer from a debilitating disease, that if I don't get my medicine, I'm likely to suffer immensely. I would like a softer transition from employment to getting off my benefits, as if I try and fail to work, I might lose these life sustaining medications. With that, I understand the reason Black People are held down, which is the Welfare System not allowing a greater cushion to wean off of the system. Nobody wants to be on welfare. If I had my pick between working or sitting at home, I'd work. But, I've tried working several half dozen times, and my illness creeps in, and prevents me from attaining any goals. So, as it would turn out, if I took the risk of working, I might lose everything keeping me tethered to reality, as my illness is something like Schizophrenia. With this is a very real program you could implement to help people get off of welfare, and succeed in the world. Another thing which holds people back is the apparent criminal records they hold, for eternity. A program to seal all criminal records---as many times as needed---would be necessary. This way employers cannot discriminate based on criminal history. Yes, it might be common wisdom that most people who have committed a crime are more likely to commit one, but there are people, like myself, who have completely overcome that part of their life. I have to say the truth, that if I could work, I would. And what prevents me is that if I fail, my medically necessary medicine will be taken from me. And that frightens me more than anything, as me without it is a shell of fear and panic. And I think if you truly wanted to level the playing field, if you truly believed in equity, you would strengthen the grace period between work and benefits. As, anyone who has succeeded, will in fact stop receiving benefits. Nobody wants to take benefits, and I'm a strong believer in the honor system. I believe most men have honor, and wouldn't squelch the welfare system if they had other options. If they had work, it would be more likely that they would let go of the benefits. Unless culturally, it became normalized to hold onto benefits, even when gaining success as an employee. And this last example shows the pitfalls of your organization. People of different colors have all the benefits they need. And, as a last resort, your theories are making permanent a crutch which should have been set aside once the leg healed. And for that, there is no honor in what you do.
Dear, Wisecrack I come to you today, as authors in the twenty-first century. The video essay slowly replaces my work. I saw your video on the information age, how intellectuals are getting dumber. A textbook I read on the Psychology of Persuasive Speech---back in 1980---understood the phenomena. When someone hits a popular conscience, has a marketable idea, or generally interests people with it, it becomes like a demonic possession, infiltrating everything they do. It's like a miner finding an endless stream of fool's gold, and because there is an equally greater fool willing to purchase it from him, he mines the rock without first checking the mountain if there were anything real within it. Any corundum, diamond, gold, silver or amethyst would even be good. Instead they mine the fool's gold, and like a Jackson Polluck Painting, because it validates their acquiescence to power, they pay top dollar for it. Let me tell you a secret. Jackson Polluck hangs in billionaire's homes because it demonstrates a principle of success and marketing. That no matter how aesthetically worthless something is, it can still be valuable with the right marketing. With that, artwork rivalling Leonardo---even excelling his ability---doesn't get sold or patronized. Information is no worse or better. It's not the quality, but rather the notoriety. Yet, if that information is actually true, it tends to offend the audience. Therefore, you rarely get truth spoken in public settings. The best sermon I heard was about a man making an analogy between David and Goliath, with Christians and Homosexuality. And sure enough, he is no longer on the air. Not because he offended, and therefore was censured. But, because the audiences were offended, and therefore he was defunded. Understand the truth is offensive. The truth is bare. It's gritty. Great poetry speaks truth---and the job of a reader is to understand it. Yet, if the greatest poet to live in 300 years were writing this essay, notice that that same poet doesn't make much above forty dollars from his work. Markets dictate value. They dictate the quality of ideas. They dictate the substance of ideas. I once got into an argument---as per I saw this in a dream---between myself and Athena. Athena had said, "You cannot allow markets to dictate the quality of information." And I, in my Glenn Beck phase---my phase of loving Free Markets---said, "But why not? Of course people will choose the best information." And he, Athena, said to me, "I will allow it." To which, in the vision, I went home. Now, I see the truth. Men hate the truth. And a man---not a god---like Athena was right, though beholden unto him, he had taken exception to my work. And he did not like it. So, he cursed it, and fought against it, and set the world on fire. For the problem today is wisdom sets the world ablaze. Everyone is beholden to their own truths, rather than the actual truth. Truth becomes a mirror rather than an instrument by which to observe the natural world. And because of this, men and women are oppressed by ideas which are unnatural and unyielding to others. Poetry can save the world. Only because it would teach people to listen. God will save a soul, but poetry will save the world. Because if men listened, rather than spoke---if men and women took the time to observe nature, form and entity they would understand that there are only two sexes, two genders, and the exception to this a rare phenomena which would be dealt with according to that specific case. They'd understand Homosexuality is a sin because it is dirty and foul and dehumanizing---and it correlates with social decadence and decline, both being caused by the same problem, which is pleasure being made into a god. And with that being said, if there is no wisdom, there is no objective truth, there is no observable, intrinsic good, then there remains nothing on which to create happiness, or trust or solidarity. It, like G. K. Chesterton said, would last but a generation, yet what a hellish generation it would be.
Leave me with my flaws. Do not try to fix my work For my heart shall cull With the knowledge that shirked From this my blessed purse I was upstaged by men who are a curse.
Dear, Paul It will be said of me that I preached Works Righteousness by Christian Pharisees. You know I did not. I preached only Christ can save. Only belief in Christ, his Bodily Resurrection, His blood, could save. No man doing good, who is a Jew or Muslim, can be saved. Because by what authority does he do good? By whose power are we enabled to do justice, and enforce peace? Surely, Grace is misunderstood. It's always said that you preached works righteousness was a sin, when you in fact preached the opposite. You preached that the Old Covenant was dismantled. Probably where that word gets its origin, the mantle of the Old Covenant is abolished, and a New Law, prophesied in Jeremiah, is preeminent. It is my deep study of logic that, "Faith without works is dead", means if there is faith, then there must also be works. You say, if there are works, there must be faith. Meaning, in logic, Faith and Works are a biconditional. They are equally weighted, where the believer cannot have one or the other, but must have both. Did not the Pharisees, Paul, believe in the Sabbath? Quite piously they read Malachi, and made lots of lofty rules for the Sabbath. Which, none of those were what the Sabbath intended. As the sin of breaking the Sabbath isn't working on Sunday, but making your neighbor work on Sunday. That is what the Bible means by not turning your foot to your own pleasure. The Sabbath is also about not being burdened with your sins, but allowing Christ to bear your sins for you. So you can be light and confident in the LORD's blessing. And in turn, correct the scoffer when he admonishes you for your faith. Where we got the silly notion that works were secondary to faith wasn't you, brother. It wasn't C. S. Lewis. It wasn't G. K. Chesterton. It wasn't even Martin Luther. No theologian throughout history, or even still in the ministry today who is saved, preaches that works are secondary to faith. In pretense they'll repeat their formulae, but they do not truly believe it. But, Atheists believe that Christians are taught to sin. That sin is lawful, that goodness is evil---the law which Christ teaches is on everyone's heart. And they, in their zeal to be good, try to do what's lawful. But, they are not empowered to do it. Before I was saved, it took all my effort to nearly cause a fatal accident on the road just to pick up a solitary piece of garbage. After I was saved, by merely preaching the Word of God amputees were healed and the Blind could see. And I did nothing to heal them. It's not like the Christians who yell at the man with his knees tucked under him, and then whipping the crowd into a fervor so they don't notice him untucking his legs. That's the kind of thing that seems to me that Christians don't believe in Grace. Rather, who is it that works miracles? We, or God? All things are possible through Christ. The trees, I've observed on several occasions like to move when there is little wind, so it's not a far reach for me to believe that they can get up and walk, if Christ deems it so, so let it be. But shouting at a tree makes you look like a fool. If the tree moves, it moves by God's authority, in order to accomplish the work of God. Not by our own command or word. Same thing when I witnessed men being healed---truly healed---it was not by some intention of mine. It was done apart from me, which is why Christ says to those who say, "Have we not healed in your name," the correct answer is, "Have you not healed men in my presence? I thought you had loved me." To which if Paul has ten thousand shekels, and he gives one thousand of them, it is the blessing of God which gave him the ten thousand shekels. Not by Paul's hand, as I have work but not pay, yet it is sufficient a work that we ought to give that which God enables us to give. That is my understanding of grace. My understanding of works is that any Christian who is true will perform them, even raising the dead or walking on water. I don't believe we do it by command, like some witch or sorcerer. As that's what they do, is manipulate the forces of the wind by will. We do not will anything, except what is good. Understand, Paul, I have thought deeply about this. And I know you taught what was good. Befitting for a man was his kindness, and love and his generosity. It is God who enables the work, but without the work, there can be no salvation. Which is why Faith is Biconditional. We ought to act like we truly believed in God, as far as He has enabled us. Which, to the extent we are enabled, that is the extent of our faith. But by what we do, that is a measurement of our faith, too. And what we can afford. Which is why the widow putting in her two cents is greater than thou, Paul, giving thy one thousand shekels out of ten. For thou have more than the widow did, when thou had ten thousand shekels. Yet, if poverty is our destiny, we shall be poor for Christ Jesus' sake. If riches, it is for Christ Jesus' sake. For you had been in prison my brother, and I have not. Except for where I sinned, I had never suffered for the Gospel like you have. Yet, I have suffered greatly, according to what my faith has allowed.
Dear, Søren Your philosophy is like a bridge between Nihilism and Transcendentalism. For there are two great forces working in the world today, that of nihilism and transcendentalism. And by your reckoning, life is about making a choice between the two. The Bible, being the object of faith, is not as important as the faith itself---or the relationship with our Creator. While I accept as true every word the Good Book proclaims, I'm skeptical of convincing atheists of it. Because what's important is their belief in one miracle, and one miracle alone. And that is Christ Jesus' burial and resurrection. If one is confident of that, one will be saved. Whether Noah built an ark or Eve was literally formed by the rib of Adam---I believe it wholly, but I also have knowledge only very few do---it's inconsequential to the greater miracle of Christ's burial, death and resurrection. The Virgin Birth must be believed too, and that Christ was God Made into Human Flesh. These three revelations are the three miracles by which all Christians must believe to be saved. Greater knowledge comes when you accept the others, greater faith, greater relationship with God. But, I do not pretend to convince an Atheist that the world were flat, why would I pretense to convince him that evolution were not true? Especially since it is irrevocably observed, and as cannon to science as any other truth? We ought not argue about it. Rather, the Bible should be accepted on the merit of faith that the Bible is true. Because its morality is true. Greater than whether Noah existed---which he most certainly did---is the knowledge that he was not Gilgamesh, a warrior, firebrand, nor did he fight heathens off his ship. He was a farmer, the only man of faith in the world, humble, and possibly preaching to all that the flood would come, yet none would listen to him. Happy he would have been to have anyone on his ship, but God shut the ears of the world around him, and thought only to save his three sons and daughter in laws. And that's the importance of the story, which even Christians forget. We, often, want to shut the door to the world, and pretend like we are greater in our efforts. That we ought to be like Gilgamesh, fighting with the sword and punishing the Heathen. Yet Christ says, "He who slays with the sword must be slain by the sword." In no uncertain terms, Christ says, "Judge not lest you be judged." Rather, if we are like Noah, we are beckoning an unbelieving world to come join us in the ark, but none will take the call, or they think we're lunatics until the torrential rains come. I understand that a lot of Christians will be angry at me, but faith is understanding the story. It's not literally believing the story---though, that can just as easily be a condition for true faith. As the miracle we ought to believe, wholly, is that Christ died for our sins, and resurrected. We need not believe in demons, ghosts, fairies, aliens, angels, djinni or otherwise anything, though some of it may be true. We need to have faith in Christ and Christ alone, that He, in bodily flesh, suffered and died and is the LORD. That God Himself died for our sins. I'm not even sure one ought to believe in hell, but one must surely believe in heaven. As, true belief in Christ will cause one to obey the moral teachings of scripture, to understand that they are true. Such things as Noah's example with the ark. Greater spiritual awareness will cause one to understand the rest is true, but that granule of a miracle is all a Christian needs to convince anyone of. Telling people the world were flat, evolution isn't true, and that the Earth is only six thousand years old is harder than passing a camel through the eye of a needle. And I don't mean the walls of Jerusalem, as Christians in their lack of faith believe that is what Jesus was referring to. It can be done, with God's help. But by our own power, we ought to preserve the unbeliever's soul with one teaching, and that is Christ preeminent. If you can believe in that one small miracle, the life and teachings, and death and resurrection of Christ, then you can be saved. I've seen men like Tolstoy believe that, and even doubt the miraculous healings of Christ, but I'm confident he was saved. As salvation is a willingness to do what is right under all circumstances, through riches or poverty, through persecution or praise. And it is spiritually enabled in the Christian's heart to follow based proportionally to their commitment to the truths in the Bible. For some men, this is a stumbling block and I adjure them to continue in their faith. But, I worry about them stumbling over their faith when some great catastrophe happens in the name of science, where some form otherworldly is discovered. As I understand they are demonic---but in order to ensure we never face those questions in our lifetime, it is best we evangelize with Christ Preeminent, come in the Flesh. Jesus Christ is Come in the Flesh, and we need to preach that truth before any other can be accepted. And that truth means changing out behavior to fit the model Christ set for us, and not abandoning it. As one can believe all the Bible Stories they want, if they don't believe in grace it's all for naught. And believing in grace means the accompanying of action. Not simply setting our light under a basket.
Dear, Plato I come to your concept, of the universality of Word. On it, the Apostle John staked Christ, that Christ is the Word Made Flesh. I get scoffed at when I say this because atheists cannot perceive a world existing outside of our own realm of existence. Yet, as one of them noticed and I had seen it mentioned, the Aborigines would travel their distant paths, often never having travelled them. Yet, they could navigate them like an Ant does with scent, being blind; because of the Word, or nature within their mythology of Path Songs, they could safely and accurately travel to any part of the continent. In this, is the power of Word that a man like Kant, Hegel, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Camus, Sartre, Gandhi, Siddhartha, Confucius or St. Augustine of Hippo and the Tribal Shaman on the Ivory Coast can communicate ideas. Not mere concrete things, as if language were reduced to a set of logical positives, where it must be materially understood before morally. As this kind of thinking builds atomic bombs, but it doesn't tell us we ought not use them. It doesn't give weight to death, or life, or birth, or love, or joy. Yet, just as much as Euler's Identity, e^iπ = -1, which if viewed on a half sphere would be best visualized as negative mass expanding and shaping itself into the bottom half of the sphere, only nonexistent, reminiscent of negative space equal to the mass of the half sphere's positive space, making negative that nonexistent half equal in the limit by which the finite expansion of the infinites of calculus stop---just as much as that can be communicated, visualized or understood, so can concepts. Not everyone can understand the concepts. Not everyone is adept at understanding concepts which only a genius can represent or understand. Thus, with this limitation in the human imagination, what can stop us from believing in God? There are people who cannot understand Euler's Identity. It is impossible to them, as a Horse's ability to understand calculus. As a horse can understand addition, and this beautiful truth shows the universality of the concepts, that even we two species can understand the basic logic of addition. Yet, the horse will not understand calculus, and some human beings cannot understand it. Does it mean the calculus or equation does not exist? Simply answering that question requires there to be a God. A creator. An architect. Because sufficient to itself, the concept exists regardless of whether we observe it. Meaning it is not our own minds which sustain it. So, it falls into the reality that other minds exist, which are superior even to our own. However, what the Horse understands that many wise men do not, is the sanctity of its rider. It, being superior to the rider, will not trample her under foot. Because it abides by a system of morals present to it, that many of our most intelligent men and women cannot see. A principle of kindness, gentleness, love and trust. The man of superior discipline observes both things equally are true. Equally are self evident. Yet, who makes them so? Who makes Truth which is self evident? For, by the laws of Euler's Identity, it can easily be said the cause is accidental. Yet, for the horse and Christian, meekness is observed as a truth, which is self evident. Yet, how many human beings cannot observe the truth? How many are blind to it? This law, which exists and governs us, does not allow us to act unbecomingly. And if we do, it brings upon us doom, hardship, suffering---yet, if all were that simple, why wouldn't all bad men suffer? There are men who kill, rape, rob and pillage like Genghis Kahn, who have the pleasure of a different woman's flower every night, drinks mead to his heart's content, expands his empire, kills many men, makes slaves and concubines. And such a man is happy. Yet, such a man is almost universally understood as wrong. For how many happy men did he slay? How many beloved wives did he sully? And if none, how come he didn't take other men's wives? He likely did, but this kind of man is universally bad. One who kills, robs, rapes, pillages---yet, in consequence, if a government causes suffering, it gives those subservient to the government the Just Cause to overthrow their oppressor. Therefore, for a time, all of the crimes of humanity are abolished, and war reaps its reward. Yet, these truths are self evident, that when the victor is crowned, it can be either to suffering or pleasure for the people who are under such government. And humans know without a doubt that pleasure is superior to pain. Thus, the morality which best suits pleasure is to be determined, and often it's found in the likes of Confucius or Mozi or Lao Tsu, who one discovers filial respect, another discovers love for one's neighbors, and another discovers the world of ideas lies beyond human comprehension or ability. And it is soon found that what these scholars got right---like you had gotten right---were only the proofs of God's infallible word. That if the morality of the Bible were followed---including the aspects on war, which are observed unconsciously by all, yet we'd like to suppress them---it would lead to the ultimate pleasure for those of us living on the Earth. And by that same tread of logic, it shows morality is able to be observed, yet what we observe of it only bears witness to what the Bible had already witnessed to. And what's even more true, is that only a man spiritually enabled to follow such laws can, or will.
Dear, Herr Nietzsche My favorite story of you, is the one where you went insane. A man was beating on the stallion, and though the stallion was larger, stronger, faster, superior in every way, the man subdued it. And you cried out, "I understand you!" I don't believe you said this on your own accord, but saw the way religion took strong human beings, and subdued it like that horse. Yet, imagine humanity without the horse. The most beautiful thing in creation is man's relationship with the beasts. Beasts thirty times our size, man has tamed and befriended, has ridden, has taken to war, has held in his hands. From vipers to lions, man has befriended all the beasts of the field. Could there, Nietzsche, be this cooperation between man and beast if the animals did not subdue? Could there be the beauty of the friendship, between a man and his horse, or a man and his dog? Such it is, that even the animals obey a morality which you do not understand. The morality of camaraderie, kindness, love and affection. The morality of trust, and cooperation. Where the horse has helped man grow his crops for thousands of years, and helped us supply ourselves with food. They have given us their meat, they have given us their time and energy. Such it is, that sacrifice has created a natural bond between man and animal. One which you would destroy. For if the horse had broken his restraints, and if the horse had never been tamed, it would starve in the wild like you did. Or, it would simply be without the ability to ride. There would never be friendship nor loyalty between it and its owner. No, you went insane, knowing religion had taken an animal, powerful and strong, and had subdued it. Rightly it ought to be subdued, for the horse is better use to itself and mankind if it is bridled by religion. If it does not buck the stranger off its back. For, by this cooperation, religion has tended to unify human beings, and allow us to forge relationships and common bonds. Religion must subdue the animal within us, if we are to ever form kind bonds, and trust and the superior elements of true happiness---which is love. If we were an untamable stallion, being broken by religion and made weak by it---how would the horse ever improve its strength, except by the tow of a plough? It would never grow stronger. It would forever be weaker, fed on wild grasses instead of cultured grains. It would have no shelter---no barn to comfort and warm it. It would, rather, be in the fields roaming, in danger on every corner from hunters, wolves, lions and jackals. Do you really wish this state on mankind? One where we throw off our bonds and keep ourselves tethered to a wild ferocity? Where now the horse is outmoded, and only the rich own them. They are obsolete, taken over by a machine and not a man. Your ultimate goal is to replace men with machines---cold, steel, hardened machines. For what flesh would the horse have, the most beautiful of God's creation, if all men needed were automobiles? We are quickly destroying the wildlife, and horses too would go extinct one day. Yet, you feel a kinship with the horse, being broken by the restraints its handler has given it. Should men had never progressed, it would still be common for a man to own a horse. Instead, we have machines. Truly, your progression of man to machine is inevitable. For it is profitable for men to shed themselves of their flesh, and take on an iron bone. And like the horse, we shall die. We shan't be strong, but delivered to the wheel of fortune. You died in an insane asylum. For this horse broke you. Yet its restraints are the thing that made it useful to us. And for progress to continue, it shall require that man go extinct, and never share love or witness beauty. To never understand those things, nor joy nor trust nor faith. I speak to you, one who is dead. I do not call forth your specter, for you are dead. Yet, do understand that I love the horse more than you. I would see it nibble at the farmer's apple, take grains from his children's hand, and be embraced as an old friend toward the twilight of its life, than for it to be replaced by an automobile.
Dear, Mr. Twain I must say I like you better as a humorist. The last fifty pages of Huckleberry Finn is hysterical. The fact that it is the point where the Angry White Man of the time finds out he loves Mr. Jim. I'm currently reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. It's more to my liking. And The Prince and the Pauper. More to my liking, as Huckleberry Finn was sort of dark, and trust me I followed your advice to not make the river a metaphor. Maybe I'm just stupid, and you really wanted to. But if I didn't catch your sardonic humor, maybe I should be shot for not seeing a metaphor. To explain my current time, I see everyone is afraid. And nobody is willing to laugh. The Humor of Huckleberry Finn was the point of the novel... we all need to lighten up. We all need to laugh a little. Because that laughter makes us all on an equal footing. The racist part of our society, the one implanted in me by the racism of the left---for they make me angry because I was not racist before they started threatening my happy society---I must say I am racist a little. But I wasn't. Not until Cancel Culture became synonymous with Blackness. When they removed "Nigger" from your work, that is when I became racist. I am racist when I look at our current forms of literature, describing colonialism as a boogieman, and cannibalistic squalor is regarded as superior to law and order. I am no better than the people in Black Lives Matter. I get swept up in stupid movements. I wanted Derick Chauvin to go to jail---but, they sentenced him three times for murder. For one crime, they sentenced the man like he had committed three murders. And I thought to myself, "This is the thing that enslaves. Why Black Lives have to Matter, because of these kinds of excessive sentences." Truthfully, I will write battle for battle the Civil War to erase this vein of racism in me. This new vein that hadn't existed until "Blackness" became synonymous with wrecking the society I loved. I wish, to my very core, that blacks could have been freed with Jim, but their slaveholders have developed weapons such as this fanaticism to keep them in chains. So much so that they will commit suicide. I read Fredrick Douglass---it is weird, but he made me a little racist. He made me recognize the bonds of illiteracy. He made me recognize the bonds of savagery. I am not racist toward Fredrick Douglass, but I am racist when I saw a wrestling match between two boys. And I saw in the one boy, who was black, the movements of his slavery. To that I say that there is something which holds the black culture back. Because I watched a state champion who was also black wrestle like he were David. And the bonds of oppression were not on him. What makes me racist is seeing this weakness of character being flouted as if it were superior to the society I love. Yet, I am impoverished by it too. Truly, I know something needs to be fought for. But a man like Thomas Sowell I am not racist toward. You would not know him, but he is a man---possibly one of the most intelligent on the planet---who speaks to the true slavery. Developed in the mindset. Now I get close to Nietzsche, but may I draw forth one wisdome from him. We must shed ourselves of the Slave Morality. The one that has us rioting in the streets, and believing our prosperity lies in the hands of some force, economic or racial. That one bit I agree with him. Yet, the Slave Morality which Nietzsche preaches, the one of the Jews, is freedom. It is trust, and equity---the very thing my Brothers and Sisters of that Beautiful Race fight for. For if I am racist, it is against the sluggishness and timidity which plagues my brothers and sisters. But they will get no gain of it, by trying to steal it from me. For I am impoverished of it, too. And perhaps that is what makes me racist, is that I have very little of what they want, yet these wonderful creations of God wish to steal from me what I already lack and am impoverished of.
Dear, 2Pac I don't commune with the dead. Not as a medium. I don't conjure you for a concert. Let me just speak to your legacy. 2pacolypse, it might just happen. People of color fighting in the streets. Urban warfare. Molotov Cocktails. I am white. But I suffer against the same institutions you do. And I am not published. Your voice is heard. Everyone recognizes you. You were rich. And I am poor, on welfare, unable to earn a living off of my work. In the Slavic Nations it was communism which they reared upon their haunches, and fought for. You don't realize it, but your work is of the same vein as the Communist, frustrated with society. My Marxian background, loving Marx from a young man---now I despise him---makes me want to fight for my prosperity. Makes me want to riot. Yet, you are published. And I am not. You had the surplus of a king, as the King of Rap. I---at this moment---am poor. Is it race that holds me back? I am of the Race called Superior, born with blonde hair, a German. I wish I were Jewish, and perhaps I am. But it is not my race that holds me back. I could easily pass as that Holy Race which is called "Privileged" by blacks. Lincoln did not free the slaves for politics' sake. He simply could have never written the Emancipation Proclamation, and allowed slavery to continue. That would have certainly fixed the problem. As the south wished to break apart from the North because of slavery. Lincoln was also an avid abolitionist. No, you are just a relic of hate, in an industry which pimps blacks and turns them into savages. No longer are you Kings and Princes like the Duke, Nat King Cole and Louis Armstrong. You're the Pigmy in the zoo. You were not a prophet. And sure enough, you'll have your 2pacolypse. I may be killed by some wandering zealot, radicalized by your music. The ghettos are bad. But how much of your music is the very vein which emboldens them? How many kids are killed while your music blares? Where is the peace, when in the 1920s, men could safely sleep out in Harlem's fire chutes. No, I am on welfare. I cannot get a job, or else my sustenance is taken from me. I may lose my necessary health insurance. As that's the real leverage over me. The policies that hold you back are the same ones holding me back. If you wanted to fix the world, if you wanted to make your streets safer, if you wanted peace... you failed. But, you continually rap of Race War like a two bit Nazi Krout. And remember, you had the whole world at your fingertips. You were a rich man. But you couldn't let it go. It tied to you, and the anger of your riches, the fact that you proved yourself wrong... and it screams in your lyrics, the cognitive dissonance that America is prosperous and wealthy, and you had your bit. And you got killed by a drug feud. Either that, or you faked your death, and escaped.
Tolkien’s The Fall of Arthur
Well… I’ve read Chaucer. I’ve read Arthur. Tolkien’s work is a combination of Caxton’s Translation of Malory, Beowulf and Chaucer. Chaucer’s feminine element is embodied in Guinevere, and Tolkien’s story is a very simple one. The title of the piece is “The Fall of Arthur.” Tolkien was writing with material sufficient for a Long poem, but intended the piece to be an epic. It proves one cannot go beyond the archetypal limitations of a story.
I have finished the poem with seven lines to give words to the metaphor, for my own pleasure. As the poem screamed Chaucer to me. It ended so beautifully at the Cliffs of Albion, and the metaphor wanted to be tied up there as a long poem, not an Epic. The metaphor being the loss of Albion giving up the Kingdom. The piece is a metaphor, of course. Arthur was out fighting his battles with, what I assume is, France (metaphorically), left Guinevere alone, and Mordred came and began to stir up strife. Therefore, Albion was lost because Arthur was overseas.
I saw Chaucer in the text. Therefore, a Canterbury tale. The piece is appropriate for a Canterbury tale; its subject is the same. Arthur left his lover vulnerable, Lancelot saved her, Arthur became jealous over Lancelot—therefore, for the warlust of conquering, he lost his friend because that friend had to save Guinevere, and his kingdom; so therefore, Arthur was also killed at Albion. The nature of the Jealousy is Chaucerian;—his son Chris says that the interpretation is new. It is for an Arthurian Legend, but Tolkien fused Chaucer’s element with Malory’s. The subject of Chaucer is showing up in the Arthurian poem, that being a certain feminine character in Guinevere.
The story is a metaphor about losing the Mythos of England to France. Perhaps because Tolkien had already given up the battle and embarked on writing Middle Earth, the poem could not be finished. It’s why I wrote Hail Britannica was this controversy right here, of Britain not having its own mythology. But, there’s some tension between Tolkien’s Middle Earth and The Fall of Arthur. What is called “Mirkwood”, there’s the beginning of a tension between Tolkien’s Universe of Discourse and the Arthurian Legend’s. Tolkien did, in fact, give a mythology to England. So also with the entire English Speaking civilization.
I have criticism from the New York Times, that doesn’t quite understand what they have here; which is typical of anything named after New York. We treat serious literature as if it were a product. But, it has a quintessential English Myth, about losing the Cliffs of Albion—what is referred to as “The Wall” several times in the poem—being the pivotal point in history where Arthur loses his reign. You’d almost have to be English to understand it—or have the first thing you learn about England be the impenetrable Cliffs of Albion.
Albion is the whole of Great Britain’s poetic name. And I believe the patriotic reference is appropriate. Tolkien, as a whole, was deeply ingrained in believing in the unity of good people’s against evil. So with it, I do believe the poem is right. Tolkien is English. He did fight in WWI, the worst war ever fought to date. It is a metaphor about the United Kingdom needing to stay whole.
I do, also, believe Tolkien had a Chaucer like tale here. I wish he could have tied up the metaphor, instead of go down rabbit holes trying to fuse his Middle Earth with the Arthurian Legends. He didn’t have the material for an Epic Poem, just a Chaucer like Long Poem which could be found in the Canterbury tales. The metaphor is perfect—but he had made a mistake by trying to carry on with the poem after its conclusion. The metaphor was in the title, and certainly, it would make Albion fall to Mordred, the events of the poem.
Why Tolkien could not finish a work of poetry is not really understood by me. But, the fact remains that the poem could be finished only by about line 70 or so of Canto V. Arthur was lost at Albion’s beach. As, that’s the poem’s end; it’s the metaphor being built up to. There can be no winning England after Albion falls. If the English lose Albion, there is no Gawain to win it back. I think that’s why Tolkien could not finish the poem. He had too far a breadth, but the archetypes wouldn’t allow him to go any further.
And frankly, my original draft of this essay had said “Dover.” Because of an obscure reference to Pevensey. But, I believe Tolkien is talking about Albion, not just the region of Dover. Where the battle is—which gives the myth more weight as no one knows where Camlann was fought—could be anywhere there are Salt Cliffs in Albion. The unified whole of the United Kingdom. The battle is most likely in Wales, though, as it seems the geographical center of the conflict, but it also blends with Dover. Probably a discreet warning to England about Wales’ geography. One might think that it is perfectly impenetrable being next to Ireland, but the threat is internal. Mordred is from Wales, and in the King’s absence, Mordred stirs up a rebellion. That is why the cliffs of Wales embody a United Kingdom, or better known as Albion.
Upon reading notes in my copy of the book, and my vivid imagination, I had imagined the possibility of writing more to the piece. Siegeworks being rowed in, the logistic train of ships. Though, this is a poor artistic choice. Tolkien would have known this, as many writers have fantastic notes, but employing them would be bathos, or in this case, ruin the Voltaire like ending. As, there is a striking Voltaire like punch in the last line.
My added lines would only be there to help the reader assess what the meaning of the poem is they had just read. Only for a modern audience, as I can easily account that the poem is talking about Camlann. The three futile battles, as Camlann was one of the three futile battles of English history, being the loss of Lancelot, the loss of Guinevere, and the landing of the galleons at Albion. The poem could not make more battles, as Hastings is one of those three futile battles, therefore, it must be three futilities, and landing at Albion is the third futility. To siege Albion would seem French.—To even assume it’s possible. Albion’s shores are futility, being the third futility. Guinevere’s love the second. Lancelot’s disownment the third.
Nothing more needs written to this poem. Except what I had written, only for a modern audience to help them understand what they had just read, and to help give some closure to the ambiguity of the poem if only for myself. Landing a fleet at Albion must be futile, as the battle Tolkien described was already stated a Punic victory several lines back. I suppose one could make it an Odyssey, but one would need fifteen Cantos, which would be theft. Let the reader simply imagine it with this line, as a series of failed siege attempts at Albion would be a strong story, but it would not then be Tolkien’s. His subject was taken up, it was completed, the three woes beautiful and simply were Guinevere’s futile love, Lancelot’s futile service, Arthur’s futile landing. To siege the cliff would be a fourth woe, therefore unnecessary.
A Defense of the Completion of Tolkien’s Poem:
“… :: My heart Urgeth/ that best it were:: that battle waited.” To read the poem as it would naturally be read, with the context of the previous lines, it is Arthur claiming it would have been best to wait to give battle, rather than fight on the beach. The next lines are ambiguous, possibly to allow Tolkien the option to continue if he ever wanted to take up the subject again. But, since he never could, the last lines are best read as if they were stream of consciousness, to help complete the work. There is no way to communicate the sense, but to consider it in a grammatical tense of Arthur giving immediate thought to the events unfolding before he landed on the beach. That he is in that present mind. As, the author’s intents are known to the reader. But, subtracting the author from the text, using Autonomous Artwork in theory, the line should be reflected within the framework of the story as stream of consciousness. Therefore, a conclusion, and giving connotation of Pevensey, where the French sieged England and won at Hastings. The poem is masterful with this conclusion in view,—to go further would be deuterocanonical, and spoil the metaphor.
Why I Offer a Different Scholarship than Chris Tolkien
For one thing, a man is acquainted with his father. He’s acquainted with Arthurian legend. He’s not so sure what he has. I’ll tell him what he has. He has one of England’s masterpieces, but, only if the poem does not continue.
So, it will come to no surprise that there should be no—rather there ought not be any—instance of the Silmarillion in this poem. Mirkwood sounds too much like one of Tolkien’s inventions, which was clumsy in the poem. Granted, Tolkien’s masterwork The Lord of the Rings is far superior to anything I had ever dreamt up, even to this date. It is without ties to any historical story. Arthur, however, is tied up with a lot of legends, where Tolkien’s foray into the Silmarillion or Middle Earth universe of discourse doesn’t fit the body of work poets have been creating in Britain, France, Dutchland and the United States. England has a vast mythology, starting with Beowulf, but including Paradise Lost, Pilgrim’s Progress, Arthur, Robin Hood, St. George. Middle Earth is like Rowling’s Masterwork. It is purely creative; it is even more creative, in that it is something brand new. It is a mythology for England. It is—as it can only be—purely British. There can be no American, Frenchman nor any German intruding on the purely British story of Middle Earth. It is the first of its kind, written in the bunkers of WWI, and only Dune rivals it in scope. If anyone were to ask me which body of work stands as the greatest masterpiece of fiction ever, The Lord of the Rings stands as the greatest.
However, Tolkien wrote an impressive work—to be viewed outside of his body. The Fall of Arthur is not unfinished. It is, I will argue, complete. Because the metaphor is complete. Tolkien had completed the poem on verse 63 of Canto V. I had written an interpretation starting at verse 64, and ending at 70. The reason why—and we’re in the realm of poetry—is that the metaphor is perfect in The Fall of Arthur.
One must understand Tolkien was writing a myth for England. Modern England. The England with Communism to the North of it. The England with Atomic Bombs. The England where further conquest would be futile.
In that is the third futility. Camlann was considered the third futile battle in English History. As recorded. Futile, Punic—Tolkien had written in Canto V a Punic victory. He had—as I read him closely—been conscious of the effect of the poem, and that it was soon coming to an end.
What’s more, is that there are wars with the “East”. Not south. The “East.” Rome was south of Britain. Russia is to the East. The metaphor must be preserved in the poem, as the poem is really about Wales being a vulnerability in the English isles. Not much is spoken of about Wales in our English literature. But, Mordred is a prince. A Prince of Wales, who foments a coup against his father, as his father is out fighting his glorious wars with the East. Remember, the point of the battle of Camlann is its futility. Anticlimax is the sum of futility, and is an artistic choice worthy of the subject.
Historically speaking—perhaps Tolkien realized this—the victory over Rome never occurred. C. S. Lewis was fanatical about this apparently—such is friendship that the fanaticism would carry over to Tolkien. It was, for some intellectual reason, disgusting, and these obscure and arcane opinions are held by scholars in agreement—for whatever reason, probably as a point of agreement that the sacred bonds will never be broken on that one solitary point. Arthur had left—the third futility when he came back and landed at Albion—and lost everything fighting his war with the “East.” Not Rome.
The first is Guinevere’s unrequited love. The second is Lancelot’s disownment as a friend. As the Chaucerian themes start to intrude onto the story. The story is English, but not wholly Arthurian. It is borrowed from Beowulf, it is borrowed from Chaucer.
The story seems to be a metaphor about Albion. The metaphor is the Salt Cliffs—often ambiguous, as the geography is all of England at once, but the conflict arises at Wales. The salt cliffs which kept England safe were the same ones, “The traitor keeper”, that solidified the reign of Mordred. The reign of whatever foreign threat there is. The metaphor is clear, the story must be about futility. It must have three futilities. A battle after winning a beach, the win must be the futility, not the future battle a futility. “:: doom of mortals/ ere the walls were won…” The walls were not won. Albion prevented Nazi invasion. It would never fall, even to Arthur. The metaphor must be Albion, either being in the possession of Arthur, where he can reign responsibly. Or in the possession of Mordred, the power hungry prince. The battle with the East will not be won, but will end in futility. The poem must mean that, or the metaphor it’s building carries no meaning.
It is arcane if studied in the context of Morte D’ Arthur. But Tolkien is not writing Morte D’ Arthur. He is writing The Fall of Arthur; a myth with no French words. The fall of Arthur, the spirit of England, is the disunity of the United Kingdoms. What follows suit, from the beginning of the poem, Albion is protecting not just England, but Christendom. Therefore, the metaphor is not only about Albion. It is about the Western Civilization.
The threat is war with the East. A futile war, that Tolkien is alluding to, which cannot really be won. It would be in name a glorious victory, fictitious in its accomplishment like Arthur’s victory against Rome. Truly, Arthur is in possession of Rome right now, therefore a possible concrete fulfillment of the prophecy of literature. But losing Albion, it is something futile. As futile as unrequited love. As futile as broken friendship.
Tolkien’s Fall of Arthur An Analysis
The poem is not uncompleted. It is finished. With a comma in place of a period, it is finished. With seven lines of mine, maybe even extraneous, the poem is finished. Therefore, what does the poem mean?
The Battle of Camlann is considered the third futile battle in English history. Therefore, the poem is talking about the futility of the English striving with the East. It is a metaphor—Rome being the Western civilization. Therefore, completed, Arthur has conquered all Rome, with the United Kingdom being the principate in control of the entire Western Empire. Therefore, Arthur does control Rome, and the book is not looking back to Arthurian legends, but is looking to today, with wars haunting the West from the East.
With this being said, it is interpreted that while Arthur is out fighting his war, it leaves the door open to his son Mordred to rape away Guinevere, which is where the plot hinges. On that central focus, Mordred is now taking advantage of the king’s absence, by stirring up Wales against the United Kingdom. Wales, in particular, is the most stable of the three protectorates of England. But, in Arthur’s absence, Wales is stirred up against England, and therefore, Mordred launches a coup to usurp the kingdom from Arthur.
What follows is that Lancelot must save Guinevere, and her love for Lancelot is discovered. This leads to a furious jealousy in Arthur, who disowns Lancelot as a friend, and Arthur must now know that Guinevere is unfaithful. Therefore, two of the three futilities. The third, is the loss of Albion to Mordred. There can be—as the poem’s metaphor creates—no winning back the shores of Britain if Albion is seized by another king.
Arthur here is not a King, but is the spirit of England. And if the spirit of England is lost to the East, in futile battles bordering the edges of Mirkwood, the United Kingdom will be lost. The poem is a rallying cry to keep the kingdom United.
It fairs well as a short piece, almost like a Canterbury tale in length. Upon reading it the first time through, I was amazed, and kept hoping that the poem would end at Albion’s shores. It sure enough did, which is why the poem’s subject was finished. There was no sieging nor winning Albion, what was called The Wall. Because the cliffs are unassailable to foreign invader. Even keeping out the Nazis during World War II.
The poem is proof of a concept, and that is the archetypal structure of the collective knowledge. Albion cannot be lost to war, but must only be lost to subterfuge. If the Spirit of England fails, it is gone. The glorious revolution proves this all the more, that England must acquiesce to its rulers. It is the only way a ruler can get embedded within the shores, because once the Walls of Albion are abandoned, the power that is within the walls will be sustained. Thus, it is only lost to cowardice, or it is lost to campaigning, which is how Arthur lost it in the poem.
Readily, that is the metaphor of the poem, the three futilities are Guinevere’s Unrequited Love, Lancelot’s Disownment and Landing Ashore at Albion, as opposed to Pevensey, where it is possible to take Britain by military exploit, if she doesn’t have her navy.
A Reflective Analysis of Mirkwood
Tolkien’s body of work includes references to “Mirkwood.” His masterpiece Universe of Discourse is starting to blend into the Arthurian legend. For what reason, we must know that the poem is Tolkien’s. Therefore, the poem must be a striving with Arthurian Legend and Middle Earth. Perhaps, Tolkien is only capable of achieving one universe of discourse, and is not able to enter into another.
With this said, there is a blending of Mirkwood—Middle Earth—with Arthur’s legend. Arthur is out fighting at Mirkwood, the East, somewhere, I would suppose with Middle Earth. Perhaps showing an unconscious tension between the two realms of creativity, that they could not be separated. Until, at the end, Middle Earth won out, and Tolkien abandoned the Mythos of England for the myth of Middle Earth.
Tolkien had said he wanted to embark on creating a “Universal myth of England,” a mythology that was “Uniquely English.” Thus, drawing from the English of past, fusing it together to work new languages; creating ex nihilo a body of work as rich as Middle Earth, England’s purely English mythology was made to be Middle Earth. Substantial in its own right, it does not interact with the real world. It is, on its own, something untouchable.
Tolkien, however, touched it with the Arthurian legends. He was probably unintentionally creating a link, temporal, with Middle Earth. Tolkien’s fairy worlds were an invention of Post World War I, and were probably an expression of his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder incurred by fighting in the trenches of World War I. Thus, the dark and dingy world of Tolkien’s is starting to burgeon into the more tangible metaphysic of Arthurian Legends.
This is what separates literature from fantasy, by the way. Literature is more real in its subject. As opposed to Fantasy, a world of pure creative thought, literature embarks on recreating what is real, even when it is using fantasy. It’s why Orwell’s 1984 is literature. Because it is real. Same with Brave New World. As opposed to Middle Earth which is High Fantasy. There is something overall fantastic about it. Yet, here, bordering Mirkwood, Tolkien is embarking on the fusing of the reality of Arthurian Legend—-something tied into the archetype of England—with his invention. It was, for lack of a better term, unwelcome by me when reading the poem. It is my only criticism of the poem, that Middle Earth began to rear up. It was better left at the War of the Rings.
Though, the poem does not suffer from it. As, its effect once understood begins to impress upon the reader the imaginative subject of Tolkien. Mirkwood is dark forest. Something ominous, nonetheless. Just, unfitting for the subject, we see what probably didn’t let the poem get finished. A man is only capable of perhaps one great world. Two great worlds, they must, therefore, be fused in some way. As is what happens in most of our art. I’m sure Disney will do it with Star Wars and Marvel, unadvisedly. Much the same, it had the same effect in this legend as Disney would fusing Marvel and Star Wars. And unwelcome fusing of two well established themes.
However, an author is keen on doing it. They get their little pet ideas, which then burgeon to a schema about how their worlds work. And, ultimately, it is unavoidable, which is why Tolkien should have probably written this work first. Unless, of course, the work was written first, and then Mirkwood created The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. To which case, Tolkien inventing Middle Earth by mere suggestion of a place is itself a wonderful little invention. But, he’s hereto created from Mirkwood what will, from now on, be associated with it, and that’s Middle Earth.
Therefore, Tolkien maybe created the archetype of Mirkwood. He not only created it, but encapsulated it with the War of the Rings and the Ents. To which I would say “Bravo”, but it still looks awkwardly placed in an Arthurian legend. Simply put, because Tolkien had invented, post hoc, the myth of Mirkwood. Which is interesting in its own right that this would take place, that even if Mirkwood were, itself, a real established literary place, Tolkien had been the one who created it for the modern audience. Therefore, it might be difficult to unravel Mirkwood as Tolkien created it with Mirkwood as it is established in a historical context.
In either regard, its placement, and not being deleted, is proof that Tolkien’s body of work was already fully immersed in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. It could not go any further, nor any creative work could be separated from it.
Conversely, even I with Fairyland must have it bleed into my other Universe of Discourse. Of course, there is the round and flat earths. The round the tangible; the flat earth the afterlife.
But, I digress there because it is inevitable that a worker of Universes of Discourse blend them into one Superordinate reality, which in Tolkien’s case is Middle Earth. In mine it is just Here and There.
The Fall of Arthur a Legacy
Encroaching upon the cannon of history, a well written, paragraph response about this will not show up on Wikipedia’s entry of Camlann. Even if it’s true, or fundamental for England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales. We are falling on dark times, when research must be vetted for what is obvious. One paragraph, and a week has gone by, the paragraph disappears.
I find this is why my scholarship is hard to publish. I have intellectuals who want to break into the field, possibly break ground first. Possibly plant their flag. Or, possibly, they don’t care to know that The Fall of Arthur is about Camlann. Much of our interpretation of literature is specious at best; unmoving. Because of academic pride. It should not be about planting a flag, but about the truth.
The Fall of Arthur shows a truth. The futility of conquest. The futility of war. The futility of a king striving with other nations, abandoning their kingdom. It’s only an idea as old as civilization. It is proven time and time again. When the owner of a business is gone, the Manager is in his place. The store gets dirty. The employees slack off. Why The Fall of Arthur is not about this, I’m afraid it will be lost to the annuls of history unless I take it, and make it read. Much like all of literature, which holds these invaluable pieces of wisdom. Not because they literally occurred, but because they do literally occur. There was probably not a Battle of Camlann. If there was, Arthur probably did not fight there. If he did, the most likely cause of it is a Barbarian invasion of Rome, where a battle was won against it. And, the news carried up into the Barbarian tribes in England, and disseminated throughout the isle.
And a process of peer reviews needs to show it is possible. Often breaking away from the sublime truths of literature.
I offer this essay in response to Christopher Tolkien because the work is not his; the meaning, anyway. The rights to the words are his, and the property rights. But, the metaphor—the meaning—is not up to him to determine. It was up to his father, who had studied Camlann, and knew it was the third futile battle in English history. Who knew that Hastings was another of those battles. And a perfect metaphor which needs to be read, especially in these days when Scotland is talking about annexing from the United Kingdom. Literature is important. Not because it actually transpired, but because it can, quite refreshingly, help us understand by legend what is practical advice. Not because the United Kingdom ever did loose itself to Mordred, but because Scotland could as much be Wales as Ireland, and Tolkien, who fought in hell’s barracks, needs to be listened to. Men who fight in war, men who understand war, even if their stories are metaphors, their stories are true. Because Scotland needs to not annex from Britain. The fate of our earth depends on it. And if this truth is found in a simple literary poem, it is worthy enough for me to do six essays worth of analysis. And Christopher Tolkien does not get to dictate—nor would he, as I would hope he’d see his father is more serious than he had first understood.
We need stories because they preserve truths that go beyond the actual battles of history. They are intellectual and metaphorical battles, to be waged on paper so they do not get waged in real life.
That is why this little poem is important. Probably the most important.