Complicity

Complicity in evil – ultra-evil. There’s no stepping back. No pause. No way of holding ourselves back from the ceaseless screaming horror.

We are made part of the evil. They’ve signed us up for the evil. They’ve conscripted us for evil. It’s not enough that they’re evil – we must be evil too.

 

We desecrate ourselves. We’ve been made to desecrate ourselves. We destroy ourselves. We’ve been made to destroy ourselves. They’ve make us satanic.

 

We live in the world of lies, and we are made liars. We live in the world of death, and we are made dead.

 

Hatred is our truest feeling. Truth – in the form of hatred. Hatred as a way of loving what is true, what is right.

We hate because of what is good in us. We hate because of what is true in us.

 

Our horror: the inverted image of the light. It’s how we know the light.

 

The abyss of the world. The world-abyss. The world that hates us, and that we must hate. The evil that hates us, and that we must hate.

The world is turned against us. Their world – because they own the world. They’ve seized the world and laid hold of the world.

 

Why must we negotiate with evil? Why are we forced into the middle ground – their middle ground. Their so-called middle ground.

 

And this is why we must be fanatics. To resist their hideous strength. Their power of ruination. Their work of death. Their constant operation.

 

We live in the truth. Which is the meaning of our torment. Which is the meaning of our drunkenness. Which is why we are who we are.

Which is why we’ve come to the coast. Like Christians who look to the east for the risen Christ. Or who ascend pillars to await him. At least we’re waiting. At least we know the world is incomplete.

 

The coast is the place. Where the lie is exposed – and continually. By the extent of the sky. By the vastness of the sea.

The coast is for the undeceived. The coast is for the unfooled. The coast is for the not entirely destroyed.

We come here for the truth – to live in the truth.

The fogs of the coast: illumination. The clouds of the coast: brightness.

 

A last redoubt. A last holdout.

Will we be able to resist, at the coast? Will it be able to reach us, at the coast? Will their stormtroopers knock at our door at the coast?