Last night I was dreaming of a “primitive” culture which had just cremated one of their own in a pit. It was still smoking, and children were digging bone fragments out of the ashes. Their attitude was between play and reverence. They were learning, from a very early age, that death is a part of life. They were living within a realm which we could call mythic, but which was dealing on a very direct, empirical level with the facts of life. Nothing was hidden or concealed, and in important respects, no explanation was necessary. The bones were what they were.
True, organic myths are emergent properties of direct human interaction of life as it is lived. We could look at, say, Aboriginal Australian culture and see things we consider ridiculous, such as the idea that the first didgeridoo blew the stars into the sky. But true myths are merely place holders, they are merely doorways. They are banners, behind which stand important, organic human realities. They enable access to important truths. [I will note that I “accidentally” spelled organic “organize” twice. Consider the deep relation between the two words]
To this I would contrast what might be termed the Modern Myth, which is an artificial creation YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE. Rather than granting you unfettered access to the transcendant, it limits you, it confines you. It places you on a metaphysical procrustean bed, and shapes you to its demands. Think Huxley’s Brave New World. Nothing is real there, nothing organic, nothing larger than the survival of insects is attempted. It is an efficient system, a “scientific” system. But we look at it in horror. It is a world without meaning, without organic myth.
Communism is a retrogressive myth. It confines the human spirit. It is the creed of narcissists.
It is funny, because I see clear parallels between what my mother attempted with me, and what modern leftists are attempting with the world. Obviously, I have to consider whether or not I am projecting, but I don’t think I am. I feel my birth and life have uniquely qualified me for the sort of social commentary I have been doing.
I like to think this was my plan.