If one would take the already walked path from the Gas Chambers of Auschwitz to the Wall of West Bank without pondering, then logic is dead. The maze that the pundits meticulously knit is frivolous and hides the facts into a stew of tasty cyanide interests.
If the radicalization is not directly linked with oppression, then the Lady Justice should be just a syphilitic bitch licking her bipolar delusion at the intersection of our major roads: Hope St. & Believe Me Way. You can throw her a quarter and you may touch her stony nipples but do not expect a felatio. After all, her figment of imagination is so contagious that the inflicting pandemic had enveloped the world in a barb wire condom for the sake of keeping it very balanced.
The Universe of Eddington & Einstein transcended morals and ethics for a brief moment only, even though it represents the truth. Nationalism and ridiculous beliefs were surmounted by these two great minds in order to reveal to the feeble minded flock one of the greatest breakthroughs in our history. Then, we seemed to be heading toward the path of true reason, not just reasoning our absurdities.
Regrettably, as we all know now, that road that represented the way of true freedom was smothered once again by the same old habits, the circle of comfort, which, even though oppressive is embraced by the masses in the same manner as the abusive parent. “One must deal with whatever one was born” – hence we start from a false premise which it will never lead to a true result.
The incapacity to change or to accept progress dismisses the truth for the convenience of a make-as-you go to fit the status quo impartial justice. The truth has no anthem. It just is. The belief it does. It is emotional. It has to attract the earthlings like the fire’s light deceits the flies in its lethal caress.