*** First: the primeval fear and wonder, the fact of existence itself, the gaping at the savannas, the odd and menacing creatures abounding, the vast sprawl of the stars. Noting the deep growl of hunger, the insistent urge to sample tubers, mushrooms, fruit from the trees, the slow and hapless life forms crawling beneath our gaze. The terror of being prey for stronger and faster life forms, with their shrieks and snarls and rumbles through the night. Hearing the helpless wails of our mates being devoured. The seeking for shelter and haven. The cowering. The thinking. The gathering of stones. The noting of friction. The sharpening. The fine point, primed to stab and gouge, to ward off predators and subdue prey. The sight of sparks. The collecting of leaves and twigs. Combustion. All of it the rudiments of inquiry and physics itself. The staggering growth of reason, tools, language, culture. The imagining of gods. Boats, wheels, transport. The staying power of tribes, fear, acquisitiveness, aggression. Religion. Gunpowder. Industry. Those become a revered, ravenous, lethal trinity. Their harnessing by the nation state. Wars—of aggression, of defense, of abstraction (honor, pride, fame). Wars, too, for knowledge, battling ignorance, the relentless yearning to learn the whys, the hows, the where-tos of all that presents itself. That yearning begetting science, the arts and humanities, the exploration of truth and beauty—and discovery of the atom. Its splitting. Its unprecedented power. The awful, awesome realization of that power’s applications for good or ill. The rationale for ill use in service of the greater good. The conscience stricken and paralyzed, questioning that rationale. The conundrums, the torment, the moral wrestlings in the night. The fears of proceeding, the fears of not proceeding. The decision. The headlong pursuit to be first, the terrible knowledge of second as horror, inconsolable. The testing. The light, the gale, the blast and roar to the gates of heaven. The whoops, the plaudits, the raw evidence of Prometheus, finally unbound—now inside you. Your impulse to expel him. The voice to serve his call. The day of ultimate, world-shattering terror. The impossibility of return to anything as it was, the very soul of humanity now unto a God, the power of creation and destruction finally total, inarguable. The only certainty the uncertainty of what lies ahead. *** *** *** *** Comments? Questions? Suggestions, Objections, Attaboys? Just scroll on down to the Comments section below. No minimum or maximum word counts! Check out this blog’s public page on Facebook for 1-minute snippets of wisdom and other musings from the world’s great thinkers and artists, accompanied by lovely photography. https://www.facebook.com/andrew.hidas/ Deep appreciation to the photographers! Unless otherwise stated, some rights reserved under Creative Commons licensing. Elizabeth Haslam, whose photos (except for the books) grace the rotating banner at top of page. https://www.flickr.com/photos/lizhaslam/ Library books photo by Larry Rose, all rights reserved, contact: larry@rosefoto.com Morning through the trees by Andrew Hidas https://www.flickr.com/photos/andrewhidas/ Nuclear blast by Burnt Pineapple Productions https://www.flickr.com/photos/51686021@N07/
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