Fixing the Problems of Our World
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13. The dead must be consulted. The dead must not just slip away; they must be kept at hand. The dead can no longer be neglected. Despite what has happened to them they are still members of the community.
We cannot simply lose everyone just because we are too noisy and distracted to hear where they have gone.
This is the greatest failing of our species and in fact our planet of animas and systems, the central item we are evading. This is the lost evidence that, when it comes, will break the stranglehold of all fundamentalisms and materialisms, the wakeup call that the rest of the universe wants to witness us receiving.
We alone have the opportunity to heal the cosmic breach because in us it has been most fully incarnated and indoctrinated—jammed somehow into our genetic code. Plus, we have wedged it in, subtly and unconsciously, all the way back to the first carnivorous eels. Since then it has been ramified, fish by fish, cat by hunting cat—church after church and king to king.
The dead are not obliterated; they are transformed, even as the living were in order to get here. Just as the womb is an elegant vehicle for papering and tattooing life energy, we do not see the real sarcophagus arriving; we certainly do not see it departing. We tell ourselves we are playing a different kind of hide-and-seek.
So we don’t understand suicide bombers or their radical cult of death at all. They are conducting politics by other means—cosmic politics. They are trying to blast open the bubble around this world and reveal the dimensions of all acts, political ones immediately, the rest later, because, at that level, there is no distinction. Most of these self-immolating warriors, despite their ideologies, don’t have a clue why they are doing this because they experience it as something else, equally powerful but far more gallant and valorous than it really is.
Their sense of mission, the sublimity and the naïve conviction they express, the sacrifice they make, horrifically as it resonates through the present clime, horrific as they intend it to be, is meant to serve all of us, to carry all of us on the turtle’s back through the hole in matter. Because they do not know how to be truly horrific, because they do not know how to do what they think they are trying to do, they ultimately effect the one thing they would renounce as blasphemy. They are creating the future, beyond Muslim (or Darwinian) law.
Yes, they are doing the work of the angels, but even the angels do not condone it. Like us, the angels are appalled and disgusted by its inhumanity and callousness. Yet the angels have no other choice but to turn it to their ends. It is so barren and ingrate, so futile, that they guide it into the one meaningful radical path. They must. They must use it because it is what the Earth is giving them to work with—people throwing back the libations they were granted. And anyhow—sigh!—it’s where humanity is at. Revengeful, melodramatic, spoiled humanity—so-called King of the Beasts, image of the divine. You can’t get where you’re going unless you start where you are. You can’t wake us up to the dead unless you demonstrate what is actually being done by surrogate to the living.
Despite themselves the suicide bombers are saying: “The universe in which you are conducting politics, are arbitrating the fate of peoples and nations, does not exist. You cannot solve any of your crises of resources and territory unless you see what they really are, who we really are. The winners are not really winners; the losers are not ultimately losers.
“Here, now play this game. You may not like it at first, but in the end it is the only one in town.”
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