Morning Light. Deus Ibi Est.

I was on the pet food aisle for the night, trying my best to runaway from thinking about eugenics. It seems important, but I didn’t want to face whatever lies ahead.

The same vague pictures keep appearing in a  spinney, at dawn, in my slightly crippled imagination. When I was spending much time fretting over all things hashlike and psychedelic in recent times the same spinney would be there in my mind but it was just before midnight, barely a star in the sky, not even an owl, a fox or a batty sparrow for company.

Now, there is a brave little ginger breasted Robin close by, egging me on to follow him up a very narrow path that’s dangerously sloped. I have seen this barely beaten path before. About thirty years ago I wrote:

‘Morning light, failed to hit us once again.’

I won’t bore you with the whole of the childish poem, just a few more lines:

‘Sliding down a path that’s dangerously sloped,

Bumping into thorny bushes and vicious country nettles.

I might be bleeding, bruised and somewhat weary

But my peace of mind lives on,

Smiling without query for some morning light.’

It has dawned on me that I’m being egged on to climb the hill that I slid down so many years ago.

Not quite ready to do it yet. Never quite ready. Fear.

I wrote something else many years ago, which I sang to the same tune as ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon

‘The darkness in my soul is opening it’s floodgates, sucking me inside; sacrificing everything that is sacred to me. Everything is black except for the sky; shades of red and grey. I’m lying on a bed of nails, dinner for the demons that are lurking within… The Darkness has captured me, I’m screaming but no-one hears my cries… How do I get out of this blackhole?’

I was such a happy child!

Whatever it was that I pictured in my mind then, it was probably something to do with the fear of death.. A cry into the wilderness of fear. I don’t know, I’m too slow a typist to keep up with these thoughts.. But where ever it was, I am there now but it isn’t dark anymore. Morning light.. I best shut up.

Anyway..  I was on the pet food aisle for the night, trying my best to runaway from thinking about eugenics.  So I turned to an audio course about the fall of the pagans and the origins of medieval Christianity. A lecture about the ‘Mystery Cults’ and another one about Platonism and Stoicism. Much of what was being said went in one ear and out the other, but it was interesting all the same, but I wasn’t able to escape my eugenical thoughts.

So I listened to a short one-hour talk about the history of eugenics. The picture faded, and when no one was looking (apart from dozens of CCTV cameras!) I thumbed a quick email on my mobile device.. Which very quickly turned into my last rushed blog post.

There is nowhere to run. Unlike so many of the tasks I’ve set myself in recent years, this particular task (Eugenics to Transhumanism) is not going to be abandoned.  I’ve been lurking around in the dark for so long.. sliding down the path was effortless.. It was a mistake. I believe that this the moment where I am facing in the right direction and there is only one way to go.

I didn’t believe that at the time.

I moved on to listening to an audiobook that wasn’t really written with me in mind.. one of those ‘conservative’ boilerplate books about  ’19 hard truths that the left can’t handle’.. I couldn’t skip through the chapters fast enough. But it has been useful in a way. I’ll explain that some other time maybe.

I then stumbled upon an audiobook version of ‘Trouble with Lichen’ by John Wyndam.. And I found myself slowly walking up the path. Then a little while later I was listening to a Calvinist sermon about the Virgin Birth.

Childhood memories came along quite vividly, pretty good ones. I won’t bore you with all that.

Then I listened to some music, some ballads about some broken seas or something. Then back to the Trouble with Lichen. My shift was over and my stroll home led me here, typing out these words.

I’ve worked out how I’m going to sift through the New York Times articles about eugenics. I have started climbing the hill  that I slid down so many years ago. Better late than never.

One of the songs I listened to is this.

Deus Ibi Est

by Isobel Campbell  and Mark Lanegan

Against my will to these sad shores, an unknown force has drawn me
Bound unto a future shaped by ancestors before me
Day on day I march the beat to someone else’s drum
I have searched far foreign lands there’s nowhere left to run

Impending storm rise up rise up, oh demons I shall shame you
Down the barrel of my gun and one by one I’ll name you
Day on day my brothers leave go marching off to war
Yet we never understand for what we’re fighting for

Deus caritas et amor
Deus caritas
Deus ibi est

Worldly desires and worldly gains designed for worldly men
I’m a master of the heart with ears and hands to lend
Soldiers come and soldiers go some changed by love for thee
A circle in the chain of life all fighting to be free

Deus caritas et amor
Deus caritas
Deus ibi est

Deus caritas et amor
Deus caritas
Deus ibi est (Deus ibi est)

So come my lord and we shall dance to God’s own private drummer
Sweet Jesus and the holy vine the afterlife to come
Day on day I march the the beat to someone else’s drum
I have searched far foreign lands there’s nowhere left to run

Deus caritas et amor
Deus caritas
Deus ibi est’

That’ll do.



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