Socialism, When The Last Word

There Is Another Way Of Disqualifying The Metaphysicians.... Judge Them By Their Works. What Have They Done For Mankind Beyond The Spinning Of Airy Fancies And The Mistaking Of Their Own Shadows For Gods?

His Conclusion Was That Things Were Not Always What They Appeared To Be. The Cub's Fear Of The Unknown Was An Inherited Distrust, And It Had Now Been Strengthened By Experience. Thenceforth, In The Nature Of Things, He Would Possess An Abiding Distrust Of Appearances.

My Life Shall Be Free And Broad And Great, And I Will Not Be The Slave To The Sense Delights Which Chained My Ancient Ancestry. I Reject The Heritage. I Break The Entail. And Who Are You To Say I Am Unwise?

All My Life I Have Had An Awareness Of Other Times And Places. I Have Been Aware Of Other Persons In Me. Oh, And Trust Me, So Have You, My Reader That Is To Be. Read Back Into Your Childhood, And This Sense Of Awareness I Speak Of Will Be Remembered As An Experience Of Childhood. You Were Then Not Fixed, Not Crystallized. You Were Plastic, A Soul In Flux, A Consciousness And An Identity In The Process Of Forming--ay, Of Forming And Forgetting.

Life? Bah! It Has No Value. Of Cheap Things It Is The Cheapest. Everywhere It Goes Begging. Nature Spills It Out With A Lavish Hand. Where There Is Room For One Life, She Sows A Thousand Lives, And It's Life Eats Life Till The Strongest And Most Piggish Life Is Left.