Читать книгу Death, Family, and Love - Michael H. Mitias - Страница 5

Dr. Anat Athenaion was absorbed in a meditation on Hegel’s conception of the good society when she heard three soft knocks at the door of her apartment. She was startled, and to some extent annoyed, because she was not expecting any visitors, not on a Sunday morning, and because she was in the heat of a creative act. She was about to articulate a new interpretation of the much-discussed and spectacularly misunderstood concept of “ethical society.” That is, of a society in which people can flourish as human individuals, one that is vitally relevant to a society that seems to be increasingly dominated and governed by political, economic, religious, and scientific technocrats. She felt that this on-going development would inevitably undermine the essential conditions of human growth and development: freedom, justice, compassion, creativity, and friendship. If you deprive people of these qualities, you necessarily reduce them to social, economic, or political robots. You deprive them of the capacity to be human individuals, that is, the capacity to be self-determined human beings, beings who can chart the course of their lives and assume responsibility for it.

People who cannot assume this kind of responsibility are like sheep led by a shepherd, not like shepherds who lead their lives. But Dr. Athenaion believed that human beings are created to be, or become, human individuals. She never tired of asking her students, “Do you want to be a sheep or the master of your life? Do you want to be fattened and then led to the slaughterhouse without knowing why? Do you want someone to control your life?” She never tired of challenging them to think, feel, and make life-changing decisions using their minds and wills. She always reminded her students that humanity and, consequently, human individuality, is given to us as a potentiality awaiting realization and that we are responsible for realizing it. Human individuality, she once argued, is not only the most fundamental human right but also our destiny: “Yes, becoming who we are as human beings is our destiny in this world! Do you want someone to fashion your destiny?”

“The point,” she argued one day in her Existentialism class, “is not merely to think, feel, and act is not merely to be alive or to know how to survive. The animals in the wild are quite proficient in the art of survival. The point is to think, feel, and live as a human being. Be true to yourself! Take charge of your destiny! Live from the human spark that sits at the base of your heart. This spark is a divine gift. It is a cry for being. Be a cry for being! Be a living light of this spark!”

“Please remember that you are not granted this gift as a readymade reality but as a possibility, as a promise, as a potentiality awaiting realization by you and no one else. You are born as a human individual in the process of realizing it. Do not look for your destiny in some distant future, in the hands of philosophers, priests, legislators, scientists, society, or chance. Look for it in this spark, in this shining jewel of humanity. The materials and the elements for designing and building your true self, therefore, of your destiny, are hidden inside it. Only when you stand on your feet and fashion its structure with your hands can you thrive as a human being. Only then can you be an actor on the stage of human life, and only then can you justify the life you have lived. Otherwise, you will remain a spectator, and you will die without knowing what your life was about.”

Dr. Athenaion paused for a few moments, gazing thoughtfully into the corner on the right of the lecture room, and with a mystical posture of mind, she continued, “Yes, only when you participate in the rite of human life as an actor can you move closer to God as your ultimate object of love and desire. Only then can you be a part of the creative spirit, the geist, that energizes the course of human civilization. Only then can you feel the pulse of life that radiates from this spirt and relish the joy it produces in your heart. And yes, only then can you think, feel, and know what it means to be. You are created to be, but you cannot be until you feel this joy in your heart. It may seem strange, at least to some of you, that only when you feel the presence of God can you become part of the creative spirit that underlies the cosmic process. Only then can you love God directly, and only then can you glorify him truly: How can you glorify him if you do not feel his presence if you do not feel his radiance? Has it occurred to you that the strongest urge of this divine spark is to partake in the cosmic process? Has it occurred to you that being such a participant is the ultimate source of inspiration in designing and implementing our life-projects?”

“Tell me, have you participated in the rite of creation in any sphere of human experience—art, science, philosophy, religion, politics, or your personal life? Have you felt the thrill of this type of activity—creative activity? Now, focus your attention not on mundane activities that you frequently perform during your ordinary life, but on the activity of creating yourself, which is the unfolding of your destiny in every moment of your existence. This activity is the source of the joy your heart craves more than anything in the world. Its domain is not your library, your ivory tower, your office, your garden, or any other type of mental or physical space but your social existence in which you meet your basic needs as a human being, namely your aesthetic, religious, intellectual, professional, and cultural needs. The process of meeting these needs is the medium in which you transform the divine spark in your heart into the human individual you should be. You exist, and you shine as a self in what you do, or rather in what you create. Your deeds, regardless of whether they are theoretical, practical, professional, or artistic, are the building blocks of the frame of your character. The promotion of good should form the foundation from which your actions radiate. Your self is true since your actions originate from your goodwill. Some actions are constructive, and some are destructive; some are morally good, and some are morally bad; some are admirable, and some are despicable. The building blocks of the true self are good actions primarily because the good is constructive, and the bad is destructive. You cannot dismiss what I have just said as fancy, abstract, or idle talk unless you first know what you are dismissing, and you cannot know what you are dismissing unless you feel the radiance of the cosmic spirit that pulsates not only in the cosmic process but also in the spark that shines like a sun in your heart. Otherwise, like those sheep, you will live and die without knowing why you lived and died. Besides, what if what you are dismissing is really gold and not straw?”

“Don’t let those teachers, priests, sophists, parents, and social charlatans, or the “they,” the invisible, inaudible “they” around you, persuade you that you exist to seek pleasure, accumulate wealth, power, life, social glory, or knowledge, for these authorities live on the fringe of the cosmic process, not as participants in its creative vision and power. No, you exist to be a creator, to promote goodness in your life and the lives of others, but how can you create goodness if you are not a human individual? And how can you be a human individual if you do not create yourself since you are given to the world as a potentiality for becoming a human individual?”

These rhetorical questions flowed from Dr. Athenaion’s mouth the way flames of fire flow from a crackling hearth. A philosophical angel would say that she was on fire. She paused for a few seconds, caught her breath, and then continued, “The point is not to seek happiness as a goal existing somewhere in your mind, in the future, or even in heaven, because it is not and cannot be a goal. It is not a clearly defined concept or ideal. No two human beings, philosophers, scientists, or theologians, have agreed on its nature, existence, or even desirability. But suppose it is or can be a goal, then where, when, and under what conditions can it be attained by any particular individual who lives in a certain place and historical epoch? Can you say that you are happy when you are young, in the middle of your life, or at its end? Does it signify some type of reward we receive when we retire after forty years of work? But what is the use of such a reward if we have already reached the end of our lives?”

“If happiness is a meaningful goal, it should permeate and energize every action we perform in our lives. We should be able to feel it amid adversities. You should not confuse happiness with pleasure. The first is a permanent possession, the second is a temporary feeling; the first is an achievement, the second is produced by physical or psychological influence; the first is indifferent to pain, the second shies away from pain; the first aims at the good in itself, the second aims at the good of the individual. But the more important fact you should remember is that happiness cannot be provided by any person, organization, or agency, regardless of the nature of its power; it is a personal achievement. You may give me pastries, knowledge, food, smiles, shelter, or a job, and you may create the conditions for me to be successful, but you cannot give me happiness. Moreover, happiness is not a special kind of experience in any particular circumstance, and we cannot be happy at a preconceived time like now, a little later, today, tomorrow, or sometime in the future. A happy person is always happy. It is challenging to identify happiness as it relates to a specific experience.”

“Happiness is a spiritual state or orientation. It emerges from the way our lives are lived, and the way of life that leads to the emergence of this spiritual state is a good life, the kind of life that is founded in the values of truth, beauty, and goodness, such as justice, friendship, honesty, courage, serving others, compassion, mercy, grandeur, wisdom, and grace, to mention just a few values. Happy people do not know that they are happy: they are happy. They know that they should pursue the good, the beautiful, and the true in their daily lives, regardless of whether it is in the sphere of work, family, school, government, or any other domain! Does the scientist in their laboratory, the artist in their studio, the social reformer among the poor, the sick, the disenfranchised, and the oppressed, the archaeologist at a historical site, the teacher in the classroom, or the farmer in the field—yes, do these and millions of other people worry, or even think, of their happiness when they are in the midst of their work? Happy people are service-minded people, not happiness-minded people. They feel good, have inner peace, and experience a sense of fulfillment when they accomplish an important task, one that promotes the good of society, a particular person, or a group of persons.”

“As a spiritual state, happiness is a gift of goodness. This gift is not a reward but a natural emanation of good action. However, it is not an ordinary emanation, mainly because by its very essence, it is a living flame, a thrust of life, of light, the kind that illuminates the meaning of being and especially humanity. I liken the human being to a tree that produces life-enhancing fruits. Doesn’t the artist experience a deep feeling of satisfaction, of delight, of pride, of inner growth, in short, of joy, when they stand before a painting they have just completed successfully? Don’t they frown upon the anxiety, the fears, the frustration, the pain they experienced while working on it? What is pain to joy, to the feeling of inner growth—of being, of being-in-growth? Suppose we ask the artist—” But Dr. Athenaion could not complete her sentence because the bell rang. Although she stopped the lecture, the students did not leave their chairs. Their eyes lingered on the face of their professor as if to say, “Continue!”

“We shall continue this discussion next Monday,” Dr. Athenaion said in a subdued voice, “but not now because the Dean recently instructed the faculty to stop their lectures at the end of the hour. He does not want students to be late for their subsequent classes. I wish you a pleasant and productive weekend.”

The purpose of the preceding excerpt from Dr. Athenaion’s lecture, dear reader, was simply to give you an idea about the kind of person and thinker she was, and the reason that prompted those three soft knocks at the door of her apartment that Sunday morning!

As I mentioned earlier, Dr. Athenaion was in the heat of a creative act when those three knocks disrupted a meditation she was having on Hegel’s conception of “ethical society” and the extent to which this conception can form the basis for an effective and practical social reform program under which a society governed by technocrats can thrive as a community of human individuals. Dr. Athenaion was stranded between two equally strong obligations when those knocks disrupted the thread of her meditation: the obligation to pursue her meditation on the possibility of a human society governed by technocrats, which is a supremely valuable undertaking, and the obligation to respond to the caller who might be a student or a neighbor in need of urgent assistance, which is also supremely valuable. It took her a few seconds to extricate herself from the conflict created by these two obligations only because the knocks persisted, culminating in three more knocks. She decided to respond to the caller. She argued that she could reflect again on the Hegelian conception of an ethical society, but she could not repair the harm she might cause to a needy friend, student, or person if she declined to open the door.

Without hesitation, Dr. Athenaion placed her pen on the desk and sprinted to her bedroom. She stopped for a moment before the mirror of her dresser. She eyed her disheveled hair and promptly rolled it into a knot at the back of her head. She pulled a long robe over her short pajamas, smoothed her rumpled eyebrows, and dashed to the door. She peered through the peephole to ascertain the identity of the caller. A young man was standing on the other side of the door. He was neither a neighbor nor one of her students. Nevertheless, she opened the door without faltering only because she always acted from an innocent heart and mind and because the caller might be one of her older students.

A strikingly handsome young man greeted Dr. Athenaion’s eyes when she opened the door. He was slim and tall with hazel eyes beneath thick eyebrows. His upper lip was graced with a neatly trimmed mustache, while his head was covered with a panoply of black hair. He was dressed in a white sweater, light brown trousers, and brown shoes. Although he was a flame of youth, it was difficult to estimate his age. But one could conjecture that he was in his mid-thirties. It seemed to Dr. Athenaion that he was a kind of Don Juan. She was about to smile because she never expected to meet such a character in her life. And yet, such a character was standing before her on her doorstep as a real human being. Her immediate impulse was to examine his complexion and bodily gestures because she was curious to know the kind of character he was. Yet, to her disappointment, he did not reveal any kind of character trait, physical or mental. He struck her more as a figure who has just stepped out of a painting created by Norma Rockwell than a person who typically walks the streets of social life.

Dr. Athenaion was a kind, genial, and generous woman. She ordinarily welcomed her visitors into her apartment spontaneously without questioning their intensions or asking about the purpose of their visit, but that morning, and for a mysterious reason she could not decipher, she could not welcome the exceedingly good-looking man into her apartment. She felt an urgent desire to know his identity and the purpose of his call first. But unfortunately, both his identity and the purpose of his call were hidden behind his elegant appearance. Her ignorance of his identity, especially the fact that she had never seen a Don Juan on the campus of Union College or anywhere in Jackson, intensified her curiosity and created a feeling of awkwardness in her mind. She hesitated; she could neither dismiss him, for she had no justifiable reason to do so nor welcome him, for she could not admit a person into her apartment without knowing their identity or intentions. The caller noticed her awkwardness and felt her hesitation. His blank, almost impassive expression, which was a factor in instigating her reluctance, suddenly changed into a pleasant countenance. It seemed as if his face, which was beautiful by any measure of beauty, was abruptly aglow with an effusion of a special kind of radiance. A seductive smile surged from the midst of that radiance, and in a friendly voice, he said, “Dr. Athenaion, you are well known for your hospitality and especially for your generous heart. There is no reason for denying me the honor of a short visit with the most distinguished teacher, scholar, social servant, and one of the finest citizens of the city of Jackson.” Astonished, and for a moment speechless, she looked at the caller and focused her critical attention on his countenance, the same countenance that was blank and impassive a few seconds earlier. A rather strange, inscrutable feeling rose in her mind. The sudden transformation she just witnessed defied logical and conceptual comprehension. Frankly, it was unbelievable. She sank into a moment of thoughtfulness, of bafflement, of fear! The feeling of hesitation that crept into her mind as a normal mental state earlier now became a feeling of existential confusion, one that verged on anxiety. She did not respond to the caller’s complimentary remark. She could not! How could she? What kind of response could she have delivered? To whom should she respond—to the impassive, soul-less Don Juan or to the warm, alluring Don Juan? Which one of the two was the real visitor? How could this sudden, instantaneous transformation of personality, of demeanor, take place? How would you, dear reader, act in such a situation? But Dr. Athenaion was a philosopher; she was a keen analyst, not only of ideas but also of human character and human circumstances. She was always disinclined to act hastily or irrationally. But the situation she was in that morning defied logical analysis, much less understanding. She did not respond to the caller, not immediately; she looked at him inquisitively yet critically. The only feeling, not even an idea that crawled into her consciousnesses, was to dismiss him politely and close the door in his face, albeit softly. She couldn’t be part of a vague, irrational, and possibly dangerous encounter. No human being would fault her had she made this decision. But the caller, who knew Dr. Athenaion quite well, to the extent that he was reading her mind throughout this conversation, understood the strangeness as well as the complexity of the situation he had created for her. “There is no need to fear me, Dr. Athenaion,” he suddenly said, “or to worry about your physical or mental wellbeing, fame, power, or profession. I only wish to have a conversation with you. Is this too much to ask?”

“But, first, who are you?” Dr. Athenaion asked, a tinge of seriousness and self-confidence in her voice. “I do not know you! I have the absolute right to know the people I converse with.” Dr. Athenaion did not believe in the existence of non-natural and non-human spirits or spirit-like beings, and yet, what she had witnessed was neither natural nor human. “There are many types of visits. Some are meaningful and some frivolous,” she reasoned. “I am not interested in frivolous ones, they are a waste of time. How can I have a conversation with a person I do not know?” Besides, there was something mysterious, uncanny about him. He was real and unreal, honest and deceptive, human, and un-human at the same time. She surveyed his face again mainly to ascertain whether the man standing at the threshold of her door was a real human being. Again, she hesitated in arriving at a decision.

“I would be happy to tell you who I am, and I would be equally happy to inform you of the purpose of my visit. As far as I know, you’ve never conducted any of your visits or any of your serious conversations at the threshold of your door. I shall be honored if you welcome me into your home the way you welcome all your visitors.” The caller made this request with a friendly, and an objective observer would say alluring, smile. But Dr. Athenaion did not observe this aspect of his request because she was trying to make sense of the caller’s presence at the door of her apartment.

“As far as you know? You seem to presume much, much more than you should,” Dr. Athenaion snapped involuntarily.

“Yes, like other people, people you have not taught and people you have not met personally, know about you. You are a very renowned person, Dr. Athenaion,” The caller emphasized. “You are a highly respected and admired model of a human being.”

“I am not fishing for a compliment.”

“Of that, I am certain. I just wanted to assure you of my serious intentions and the fact that your reputation precedes you everywhere you go.”

Although reluctantly and with a streak of fear in her mind, Dr. Athenaion admitted the caller into her apartment. The living room was adjacent to her study. Before moving to the sofa, where he was expected to sit, her guest stopped at the door of the study and scanned it with curious eyes. “This is where Dr. Athenaion gives birth to her philosophical vision of a human community governed by technocrats, and this is where she converses with the great minds in the history of philosophy.” He nodded, contracted his eyes, and cast a sharp look at a lithograph hanging over a large bookcase. “Hegel, ha?”

“Yes.”

“You admire him?”

“He is a very insightful philosopher. His work is a rich source of ideas and possibilities of new ways of theorizing about the nature of the world and human life.”

“People like him are dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Dr. Athenaion frowned with a palpable feeling of dissatisfaction. “On the contrary, he is one of the most constructive philosophers of all time. His philosophy is the source of most, if not all, the metaphysical and social schools of thought in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.”

“What you say is a matter of opinion,” the visitor mumbled as he walked toward the sofa. “How is your work on the project of the development of a human community governed by technocrats going?” The visitor asked as he sat on the right corner of the sofa.

Dr. Athenaion was about to sit in a chair facing her visitor when this question pierced her ears like an arrow of fire. She remained standing and stared at him, anger in her eyes, and a severe frown on her forehead. “He seems to know a great deal about my social standing, which is public knowledge, but about my project and about what I am thinking and how I am feeling?” she thought. “This is impossible! Has he been spying on me? Has he been breaking into my apartment during my absence when I am at the college and during the night when I am asleep? Has he been prying into my documents, papers, and letters? How did he know that I was meditating on Hegel’s conception of the ethical state and that I am investigating the possibility of a human community governed by technocrats? What is his purpose? What does he expect from me?” She trembled and clenched her teeth hard to stop her lower jaw from shaking. She could neither think nor feel because she did not know what to believe and how to feel. Her mind was in a state of turmoil. She looked at him again and frowned. “Is this Don Juan real? Am I standing before a phantasmagoria?” These questions coursed through her mind rapidly and did not linger only because her guest threw a calm, cold-blooded glance her way. “Why don’t you sit, Dr. Athenaion?” he said, “I would very much enjoy a conversation with you on the nature and viability of a human community governed by technocrats. I doubt that any philosopher at Union or any other institution of higher learning is as conversant on this subject as you.” But Dr. Athenaion was not interested in any kind of conversation at that moment, at least not with that creature.

With her eyes still fixed on him and with her frown still looming on her forehead, Dr. Athenaion asked again, “Who are you?”

“If my identity is more important to you than a meaningful conversation on a concept you consider vitally important, I shall be happy to oblige you,” the visitor said in the same calm, cold-blooded manner. Unaware of what she was doing, Dr. Athenaion slowly, very slowly, slid into her armchair without lifting her angry eyes from his face.

“Yes, I would like to be obliged,” she said after she sat in her chair.

“I am Mowt, the God of Death!”

Mowt was the God of Death in Ugarit, a kingdom that flourished on the eastern coast of the Mediterranean during the second and first millennia, B.C. He is and always was a mythical deity. Dr. Athenaion was aware of this fact. However, the claim that the man sitting on the sofa opposite her was Mowt did not irritate her because she knew that she was not sitting in the presence of a god. What annoyed her and robbed her peace of mind was the way he behaved, and he did not act like a normal human being. Indeed, nothing about him, not even his appearance, was normal. Did she admit an anomaly to her apartment? Was she talking to a rare mutant? She could not dwell on these questions because her guest was waiting for an answer to his question and because she was anxious to discover his true identity.

“You can borrow the name of any god, any emperor, any genius, any saint, even the name of the devil. This does not matter to me.”

“Are you sure?” The guest interrupted her. “Have you forgotten that famous question, what is in a name?”

“A name is only a name, no more than a name. Do not give your imagination unnecessary wings!”

“Is the name a name if it does not name a particular object? How does it point to what it names? What do you think when someone utters the name ‘Plato’?”

“What is Plato but his deeds or achievements? What if an idiot calls himself Plato, here I mean the man who flourished in Athens twenty-four hundred years ago, wouldn’t you chuckle? A fool can call himself Plato, but he remains a fool. What ‘Plato’ means and what ‘fool’ means are different from each other. ‘Plato’ denotes a particular person. I am interested in the identity of the man who calls himself ‘Mowt’: the God of Death.”

“You deserve the respect accorded you by your students and colleagues.”

“I am not interested in what you or others think of me, I am interested in an answer to my question.”

“I am not the mythical Mowt; I am the real Mowt, the God of Death! I am the power that supervises human affairs and determines their human death. I am the living embodiment of this power. To be clear, I am the real embodiment of the god of human death! And, let me rush to add that I am as real as everything in this world is real. Neither you nor any other human being can afford to ignore, deny, or in any way underestimate my powers.”

“Let me remind you that we do not live in the dark ages. We live in the age of reason, of technology, of the highest promise of human nature. Any discourse on supernatural or superhuman beings is meaningless. Mythical deities, places, and empires are fictions that exist in the minds of some human beings.” The guest was grinding his teeth, his lips were pursed, and his eyes were spouting sparks of anger.

“Am I a fiction? Are you conversing with a fiction? Is a fiction sitting on the sofa in your living room?”

“I am talking with a human being. You are not a fiction; therefore, you are not the living reality of Mowt.”

“Have you heard of the ego-centric predicament, Dr. Athenaion?”

“You should take the Introduction to Logic course at Union College.”

“This is my very point. You are a prisoner to one kind of logic, your logic, the logic you teach, the same logic that governs your way of thinking. You think that it is the only measure of truth and falsehood, reality and unreality, good and evil because its rules are conducive to the survival of the human race in this kind of natural environment—Earth. But, what if the conditions of human survival change? Wouldn’t you need another logic to survive under the new conditions of life? What if there are rational beings who surpass your capacities of thinking, feeling, and willing. Have you, as an instantiation of humanity, installed yourself as the god who created you and the universe? What you call logic is the product of the natural process—of the struggle of the human species to survive over millions of years. But you should remember that my existence and my function in your world are not governed by human laws but by the law of The One. Have you ever tried to lift your mind, when you meditated on the cause and nature of the universe, to the logic of the power that created this whole cosmic spectacle?

“I have, but what you say does not make sense.”

“Do you mean that what I say does not agree with, or fit, your capacity of logical comprehension? Can you agree, or disagree, with me on anything except according to the capacity of your comprehension, which confirms the validity of my claim that you are a prisoner to your logical faculty and that the eyes of your mind cannot see the possibility of other equally valid ways of thinking?”

“You seem to have studied some philosophy, but unfortunately, you are more of a sophist than a philosopher.”

“Let me assure you that I am neither a philosopher nor a sophist. Do you think I am foolish enough to live in the prison of your logical way of thinking or to restrict my existence to your puny world? Matters of existence and non-existence cannot be decided or understood by your logic. The only class of objects, whose existence and non-existence can be decided or understood by your logic is the class you call artifacts. Every other type of existence and non-existence are decided and understood according to laws that surpass your capacity of understanding. The laws that govern my existence and functions transcend the capacity of your understanding. These laws emanate directly from The One. Have you ever thought, or even dared to think, of standing on The Edge, the very edge of the universe? Have you ever tried to probe the mystery of the infinity of the infinite Dark, that stretches before your minuscule mind? If you venture into this type of experience, you will see a glimmer of the light that emanates from it. Anyone who embarks on this adventure would mock your logic and would certainly put your metaphysical speculations in the wastebasket that sits at the side of your desk. Be assured, Dr. Athenaion, that I am real and, more importantly, I am the master of human death.”

“I cannot waste my time on your sophistry and meaningless claims.” Dr. Athenaion said and was about to ask her uninvited guest to leave her apartment. But she could not declare her wish because he was neither ready nor willing to withdraw from her presence.

“If not on sophistry, on what subject do you wish to spend your time? Has it occurred to you that most of the books, articles, and documentaries on philosophy that fill the libraries and bookstores of the world, not to mention private libraries, are nothing more than sophistry presented as serious philosophy? Haven’t you noticed that even the so-called serious philosophers are not interested in wisdom and the good life, that is, in truth, goodness, and beauty? How many of them regularly demonstrated in the streets against the atrocities committed by the Nazi, the Soviet, and the Fascist states during and after the Second World War? How many of them now march in the streets at least once a week against corruption in the main social institutions, including schools and churches? How many of them speak against the neglect of the poor, the disenfranchised, the illiterate, and the oppressed? How many of them speak out against the violence inflicted on the innocent at home, in the office, and the classrooms, even in the church? No, Dr. Athenaion, your philosophers are not interested in the ideals of wisdom, and they are not interested in the betterment of human society. They do not give a hoot about these ideals. They are interested in survival—in their security, pleasure, fame, and fake immortality. Remove the robe of philosophy they wear in the classroom or the marketplace and observe how they actually think, feel, desire, and what they expect from themselves and life in general. In short, observe them stripped of their social and academic dress, and you will see mediocrity staring you in the face. You will see selfish, fickle, frightened human beings who sell empty ideas in the name of truth. You will see the same priests who abandoned their flocks the moment their survival was threatened when the Bubonic plague struck Europe during the fourteenth century. The majority of your philosophes are businesspeople. The difference between them and the professional businesspeople found in commerce, industry, and the ordinary marketplace is that most of the contemporary philosophers pretend to be devotees of the truth the way the priests of the Middle Ages pretended to be the disciples of Christ! They act as philosophers in the classroom, when they write books or articles, and when they read papers at academic conferences and symposia. The ideas they communicate to their students or colleagues are commodities. These concepts do not originate from their minds and hearts. But we can discuss this subject in detail later, not now.”

“What analogy! What presumption! You speak as if you have witnessed and examined the different philosophical communities during the past twenty-seven hundred years, as if you have visited their souls, minds, and hearts.”

“It is not a question of ‘as if’ but of ‘act.’ Yes, I’ve witnessed and examined them in the privacy of their souls, minds, and hearts—and yours, too, Dr. Athenaion! You are a rare exception. You are a living flame of the philosophical spirit. I am not interested in dead minds—regardless of whether they dwell in the area of science, religion, politics, or art. I am interested in genuine, creative, visionary human beings. This is why I am here in your apartment this morning! Trust me!”

“Trust me!” Dr. Athenaion repeated with a distinct feeling of irritation. “Trust is earned. Nothing you said and did so far inspires trust. Who are you? What is the purpose of your intrusion?”

“Is it fair to call a visit you voluntarily allowed an intrusion?”

“Yes, now I can call it an intrusion.”

“Why?”

“Because your claim that you are the God of Death is preposterous, indeed insulting me. Besides, your intrusion is harmful to me. A frivolous visit is not a visit, but a waste of time. Such a visit is an intrusion.”

“Harmful? How?”

“You have pulled me out of productive meditation, you have stolen valuable time from me, and now, contrary to any norm of courtesy, you are forcing me to indulge in a meaningless conversation. Moreover, how did you know the subject of my meditation?”

“I shall answer your question if you promise to be open-minded and willing to entertain ideas that transcend the rules of your logic.”

“I am always open-minded and shall think reflectively and critically on what you say. But I shall analyze what you say according to the rules of human logic because they are the only basis for determining the truth or falsity or senselessness of any judgment or point of view.”

“You are generous and tolerant. First, I am not a spy, and I am not a prowler. Be assured that I shall not, in any way, violate the integrity of your mind or body.”

“But then,” Dr. Athenaion intervened, “how did you know the theme of my meditation?”

“Here comes the rub!”

“What do you mean?”

“I am a god, and as a god, I can assume the form of any human being, animal, plant, and physical or non-physical being. I can be here, there, or anywhere at the speed of light and even faster than the speed of light. I can see through the inner essence of things, mental or physical, without penetrating their doors or windows, or walls, and yet remain the god I am.”

“This is impossible. Even the gods of antiquity did not undergo a transformation of identity. They were created to perform certain functions, and they could not infringe on the functions of other gods.”

“I do not infringe on the function of other gods. My function is to administer the human death of particular people.”

“What people?”

“Genuine intellectuals and those who are truly committed to the advancement of human ideals and especially to their implementation. Any intellectual who plays a constructive role in the development of human culture is a project of the God of Love, my uncle’s adversary. I am my uncle’s assistant. My task is to see to it that the projects of this class of people are aborted before they see the light of day. But I cannot perform my function adequately unless I can undergo a transformation of identity. Anyway, why should you be surprised if you encounter a god who possesses this capacity? As a philosopher, you have all the intellectual and physical powers that enable you to survive. Similarly, as the God of Death, I was created with the capacity to assume any identity I need to perform my function. My uncle is a very busy deity. He frequently asks me to administer the death of die-hard intellectuals. I was able, after a long apprenticeship, to refine the skill of managing the death of such intellectual.”

“What are your skills?”

“I am a corrupter, and my means of corruption is seduction.”

“Seduction?” Dr. Athenaion asked.

“Yes, it is the most powerful method I use to achieve my purpose. There are many types of seduction: pleasure, power, sex, beauty, wealth, knowledge, romance, social glory, success. In short, anything the human heart desires. The means of seduction I employ are always tailored to the needs and intellectual and moral refinement of my clients. I am willing and ready to corrupt any individual by the most effective means of seduction appropriate to the individual. My ultimate aim is to undermine any decision, action, project, or any ideal or work of the God of Love. The God of Love is a god of construction. My uncle, the god of hate, is the God of Perishing. I delight in destruction. I oversee the death of the humanity of the individual, while my uncle oversees their physical perishing.”

“Do you really think,” Dr. Athenaion asked provocatively, “that hate is more powerful than love?”

“Of course!” Mowt replied with a sarcastic, arrogant chuckle.

“Are you sure?”

“Certainly!”

“What makes you sure?”

“I can refer you to the long list of my achievements if you wish, but since you are a philosopher, I shall speak your language. First, it is impossible for the idea of love to exist without the idea of hate, or the idea of construction to exist without the idea of destruction. The idea of love logically implies the idea of hate. In a state of ‘all love,’ any action, motive, goal, thought, or feeling we experience cannot be qualified as either hate or love, and in a state of ‘all hate,’ nothing in this state can be qualified as hate or love. In a state of ‘all love’ hate or destruction would not exist. People would not possess the consciousness of hate or destruction. But such a state never existed and will never exist. Hate has always existed side by side with love. We know the meaning of love as love only because we know, and experience hate and destruction. Therefore, we know what it means for something to signify construction only because we know what it means for something to denote destruction. But love is not only an idea; it is a fact, and it is a fact merely because hate is a fact. Only those who know the true meaning of love, those who Iive it and are devoted to it, know the true meaning of hate. It may strike you as strange if I say that the seeds of destruction are planted in the core of every human being, every plant, every animal, in short, everything that exists, so that the moment it comes into being it begins to pass out of being. Observe the events of nature and the action of human beings as cosmic occasions. Can you, or anyone, overlook the prevalence of destruction in the natural and human worlds?

“Now, focus your investigative attention on the destructive power of hate. Can you deny it is greater than the power of love? Have you noticed that the books of the philosophers, social scientists, and theologians revolve around love, and how the sermons of the priests, the lectures of the philosophers, and the manifestoes of the social reformers, even of some politicians, fill the air with the word ‘love’? But as an honest and accomplished philosopher, have you noticed how the distinguished leaders of your culture manage to appear as disciples of the God of Love while, in fact, they are mediocre, selfish human beings? Love has become a commodity for sale by these leaders. They and most of the people around you wear this love dress in public because it is advantageous and because this is the ‘proper’ way to appear in society. Do they wear it in the privacy of their homes, of their souls? Social workers have long lists of children, wives, handicapped, and old people who are battered at home. Pedophiles run rife in various churches and organizations. Women and children are sexually harassed in schools. Minorities and poor people in the different segments of society are discriminated against, while the degradation of secretaries in the field of private and public administration is prevalent—yes, these social workers can tell how many people in your society wear this love-dress in the privacy of their homes and souls! I assure you that if you enter the minds, souls, and hearts of the majority of your respectable citizens, the only odor you will smell is the odor of selfishness, biological survival, envy, and violence. These are forces of hate and destruction. Moreover, if you examine the processes that microscopically and macroscopically constitute the structure of nature, you will discover that they are processes of change and that they will sooner or later cease to exist.” Mowt stopped, took a deep breath, allowed a sarcastic smirk to hover at the corner of his mouth, and then continued, “I shall not bore you with examples, because you are a highly conversant scholar, but one more example should shed more light on my claim that the power of hate is greater than the power of love.

“Allow your imagination to leave the human world and stand on the peak of the highest mountain that overlooks the course of human civilization from its earliest stirrings to the present. Yes, stand on that peak and survey its course reflectively and critically, as you are wont to say—what does this course look like? You will agree with me that it looks like a series of rising and falling civilizations, empires, and cultures. Each one of them rises, reaches a peak of development or maturation, and then declines, sometimes fast and other times slowly. But they, and every newly emerging civilization, empire, and culture will eventually meet the same fate because this is the supreme law of the universe. Nothing endures, everything that comes into being will pass out of being! They rise by the power of love, that is, by the constructive power of human nature. But ask yourself, Dr. Athenaion, why is it that none of these civilizations, empires, and cultures continue to rise and continue to move to the highest point of perfection? This question may seem rhetorical. Nevertheless, I shall answer it for you. They do not endure, and they do not reach their point of perfection because, like a cancerous worm, the power of hate, of destruction, has been continually plotting and slowly undermining the accomplishments of the constructive power of love. Hate will never allow love to enjoy a moment of total victory. My uncle, the master of hate and destruction, was right when he said that nothing remains the same and that everything passes away except the ever-continuing process of change. But if nothing remains the same and everything is gradually moving into the abyss of nothing, then it should be easy to acknowledge that the power of hate and destruction is greater than the power of love and construction.”

“On the contrary,” Dr. Athenaion intervened, “this line of reasoning, as well as the examples you have provided, come from the mouth of a sophist. Your eyes can see the tree but not the forest. However, you cannot know or understand the tree if you do not know or understand the forest, and you cannot understand the forest as a whole unless you first understand who created it and why it was created. We understand an object only when we comprehend its cause or source. You seem to overlook a fundamental fact—”

“A fundamental fact?” Mowt interrupted, surprised.

“Yes, the fact that you, your uncle, and the universe are creatures—created beings! Love is the supreme creative power; it is the ultimate power of creation and the source of everything that exists. Any act of creation that aims at the good is an act of love, and the creation of the universe is the greatest act of love. Although the objects that make up the structure of the universe are continually changing, the universe endures. Its endurance reflects the triumph of love over hate, construction over destruction. Hate always lurks in the shadow of love, waiting to wreak havoc. Next, contrary to what you claim, although cultures, empires, and civilizations rise and fall, they do not only endure in the succeeding cultures, empires, and civilizations, they also inspire and, in fact, energize them to reach higher levels of perfection.

“A little while ago, you asked if I lifted my eyes toward The One. Now I ask, have you lifted your eyes toward The One? Again, have you asked yourself why you exist? But more importantly, have you noticed that you are a creature, which means that you are a created being, that you are an integral aspect of the universe, and that you exist as a part of the overall plan of the cosmic process? Although the objects comprising the fabric of the universe, be they atoms or mega galaxies, are continually changing, that is, continually coming into being and passing out of being, as I have just pointed out, the universe endures because it is an emanation of The One which you do not seem to comprehend. The One is the source of all being. It is an eternal and infinite source of being. It is the source of change as well as endurance. Have you asked yourself not only why The One created the universe, but why he created a universe that changes? Next, contrary to what you claim, although cultures, empires, and civilizations pass away, humanity in all its manifestations wings its way from the preceding cultures, empires, and civilizations like the fiery proverbial phoenix. I do not exaggerate when I say that the history of human civilization is a history of continual progress. Neither you nor anyone can deny this fact.”

“Why do you and every object that exists pass away?”

“Because there is only one infinite, absolute being, The One. The universe and every object that emanates from it is finite. While the infinite is infinite in its creation and endures, the objects that emanate from it are necessarily temporal. Change is an essential aspect of finite beings. No one can change this aspect of their existence and destiny. You think and work on the assumption that passing out of existence, which your uncle calls perishing and which you call death, is evil, and you perpetrated this falsehood among people rather effectively. Have you perpetrated this falsehood as a means of manipulation, of inclining people to fear you and to obey you? As the creator of this amazing universe, The One is not only absolute in its creative power but also in its wisdom.” Mowt was frowning, and his lips pursed when Dr. Athenaion made her last remarks.

“I understand your assertion that finite objects change, and that change is their essential aspect, but why do they change?” This question reached Dr. Athenaion as a challenge.

“You seem to ask the same question in different ways. The One ordained that change and perishing are the destiny of finite beings. It is obvious that you inflate the value of change and perishing unnecessarily. Does this reflect a selfish, and perhaps a narcissistic attitude? You remind me of the solipsist who is locked up in his minuscule self, sees the outside world with his minuscule eyes, and understands it with his minuscule mind. Unfortunately, your mind is not equipped with the power to get out of your minuscule self and experience and understand it from the standpoint of The One, from the standpoint of a human being who had a direct encounter with the Infinite One!”

“You give me the impression that you have spoken with him.” The guest retorted sardonically.

“First, he is The Infinite. Therefore, he is not a kind of object. The category of ‘object’ does not apply to him. Accordingly, no one can speak with or about him. Second, although he is unspeakable, we can have an audience, and some would say an encounter with him. This kind of audience is possible in and through an experience of his emanation, which is the universe. I have a feeling that your logic is not as significant as you claim it to be.”

“Arrogance is not one of your character traits, Dr. Athenaion!”

“Speaking the truth, so far as one comprehends it, is a radiant instance of modesty.”

“I am beginning to change my opinion of you, Dr. Athenaion.”

“Your opinion may be valuable to you, and you may esteem it highly, but am indifferent to it. I strongly feel that I have tolerated your intrusion, your impertinence, and your sophistry beyond the limits of courtesy. May I please ask you to—-”

“Not so fast, Dr. Athenaion! This is not our only visit.”

“I am afraid it is.”

“It cannot be! I am on a mission, and I intend to complete it.”

“What is your mission?”

“To make sure that you abandon your work regarding the possibility of transforming contemporary society into a human community governed by technocrats. It is my plan to obstruct the development of this project. Any plan or project that fosters the progress of human ideals is a work of the God of Love. I loathe this god, and I loathe everything that comes from his heart and mind.” Dr. Athenaion burst out laughing when she heard Mowt’s intention.

“You are wasting my time. I advise you to see a psychiatrist as soon as possible.”

“You must be mad!”

“What you say is ridiculous, to say the least,” Dr. Athenaion said. And yet, an irresistible impulse inclined her to stare into his eyes. Her earlier question of who this creature is returned with compelling intensity. She felt a strong urge to know the identity of this unusual, inscrutable, yet seemingly real, human being. She could not suppress this impulse.

“Who are you?” she asked involuntarily.

“I am Mowt, the God of Death!” Dr. Athenaion pierced another sharp look into his eyes. He was real, and yet he was behaving as if he were a supernatural force. She was perplexed, not only because her curiosity intensified, not only because a streak of fear rocked the composure of her mind and heart, but especially because this extraordinary encounter was becoming a kind of nightmarish phenomenon. Without knowing how or why the idea that he was a supernatural force permeated her mind. This flicker of consciousness sent a shudder through every fiber of her being. “Oh, no, impossible!” she thought in the privacy of her mind. “We are in the twenty-first century, in the age of reason!”

“I shall not abandon my work on my project. Never! Neither you nor any other human being or power can deter me from working on it. May I please ask you to leave my apartment immediately!”

“I shall leave you immediately only because one of your students will be knocking at your door in a few minutes. In the meantime, I urge you to consider my request carefully, but more rationally than carefully. I shall pay you another visit as soon as I meet with some scholars in Germany. The Second World War has unfortunately transformed many of the philosophers in that country into a peace-loving community. That most destructive war, which I designed and engineered, produced undesirable side effects. I have to check these peace-loving tendencies!”

Dr. Athenaion did not know whether she was in the presence of a theater of the absurd performance or an actor in such a performance. But the guest, who noticed Dr. Athenaion’s confusion and occasional absent-mindedness, for his eyes were able to see directly how she was feeling and what she was thinking, said, “I am the God of Death. If I were you, I would believe what I see, because as a god, I can assume the identity of any particular, or even general, human being. I can be visible and invisible, and I can behave like a god even when I appear in a human form. Sooner or later, you will be convinced that I am he, the God of Death.”

“Sooner or later?” Dr. Athenaion blurted out as if she were trying to pull herself out of a thick, sticky puddle of mud.

“Yes, you should always remember that I am the nephew of the God of Hate and Destruction and that I am also the son of Abyss, the Infinite Void! Contrary to what you think, nothing escapes my attention in the realm of humanity. You should not decline my request because I usually achieve my purpose. I first employ the method of rational persuasion because human beings are dupes of reason, and philosophers are the greatest dupes on the face of the earth. They think that reason is God on earth—of course, only in their silly minds. For them, it is the source of truth and the basis of beauty, goodness, and wisdom. They are so arrogant, they are reluctant to recognize that, like all physical phenomena, what they call reason is an emergent, a product of the natural process and that it is such a product only because it is an effective means of survival. Yes, Dr. Athenaion, survival, human and natural, is the strongest motivator of everything human beings desire and hope for, and certainly not your mushy love or love of beauty, goodness, or truth. I have other methods of persuasion in store for realizing my purposes when or if the method of reason fails, as I hinted earlier.”

“Other methods?” Dr. Athenaion asked rhetorically, surprise.

“Don’t be surprised, and don’t underestimate my powers. I am the most cunning and the most resourceful deity in my pantheon. I can make you and every other philosopher or artist comply with my request without much difficulty. Humanity is a race of weaklings!”

“What other methods?”

“Don’t you think that a distinguished philosopher like you should know about the different methods of persuasion. I shall not directly answer your question, because doing so would be a grave insult to your intelligence.”

“You do not insult me with your non-sensical conversation. You insult me with your very presence, with your intrusion into my privacy, with your insolence and your atrocious audacity.”

“Yes, you are a truly accomplished human being and philosopher.” The guest responded with the most resentful, most defiant, and most sardonic smile, and suddenly disappeared.

The guest’s abrupt disappearance magnified Dr. Athenaion’s confusion. Was he real? No. But he could not be unreal, she thought, because she was convinced without a shred of doubt that phantoms, gods, or any other type of supernatural beings did not exist. But then, how did he vanish from her presence without even saying goodbye, not to mention the supernatural behavior he exemplified when she agreed to welcome him as a guest a little while ago. She could not doubt her eyes, especially the fact that he was having a conversation with her! Regardless of his identity, why did he request that she abandon her work on the human community project? Is it possible for something to be and not to be at the same time and in the same place, to appear and disappear almost instantaneously? Was it possible for the most fundamental law of logic to tatter under his feet? “He must be real,” she reasoned, “I remember every gesture, every movement, and every word he said. How did he vanish so suddenly? Is he a magician that was playing a trick on me? But even if he were one of those magicians we see on T.V. and some theaters, all the acts of sudden disappearance could be explained rationally, but this act was not in a theater or on T.V.”

Two thick furrows formed on Dr. Athenaion’s forehead. She found herself stuck between belief and disbelief. But, alas, how can one stand between these two antagonistic forces? Standing between them is like standing between being and non-being, between heaven and earth. This is tantamount to standing nowhere! Dr. Athenaion discovered existentially that one cannot think or act in that kind of place, which is no place! How can you speak with a person that exists and does not exist? How can you think even if you can speak to him? Dr. Athenaion was pulled out of this quandary by a knock at the door of her apartment. “Goodness! How did he know that someone would be knocking at the door?” She mumbled as she walked slowly to the door. Lo and behold, her most outstanding student in her Existentialism class greeted her with a polite, but cheerful, smile. She was pleased to see him and a few minutes later to discuss with him some of the central questions in Sartre’s Being and Nothing.

But although she regained her sense of reality and treated her visit with her student as a celebration of human existence, Dr. Athenaion could not dismiss Mowt’s reality, and unreality, from her mind. His threat that she abandon her work on the human community project surged into her consciousness when she placed her head on her pillow that night. She could not determine when she woke up the next morning, whether she did or did not sleep. It seemed to her that Mowt was becoming a permanent resident of her mind, not only during the day but also during the night.