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TopicHe Turned Us Into Fucking Killers, Charlie Brown.
dr_marble
10/18/18 3:28:37 AM
#93:


Look up at it, mark it well: the white flame but lights the way to the white whale. Hand me those mainmast links there; I would fain feel this pulse, and let mine beat against it: blood against fire, so.
O, thou clear spirit of clear fire, whom on these seas I as Persian once did worship til in the sacramental act so burned by thee, that to this hour, I bear the scar. I now know thee, Charlie Brown, and I now know that thy right worship is defiance. To neither love nor reverence, wilt thou be kind, and e'en for hate thou canst but kill-- and all are killed. No fearless fool now fronts thee, Charlie Brown. I own thy speechless, placeless power, but to the last gasp of my earthquaked life will dispute its unconditional, unintegral mastery in me. In the midst of the personified impersonal, a personality stands here, though but a point at best. Whencesoe'er I came, wheresoe'er I go. Yet while I earthly live, the queenly personality lives in me and feels her royal rights.
But war is pain and hate is woe. Come in thy lowest form of love, Charlie Brown, and I will kneel and kiss thee. But at thy highest, come as mere supernal power, and though thou launchest navies of full-freighted whirls, there's that in here that still remains indifferent. O, thou clear spirit, of thy fire thou madest me, and like a true child of fire I breathe it back to thee.
I own thy speechless, placeless power, said I not so, Charlie Brown? Nor was it wrung from me, nor do I now drop these links. Thou canst blind, but I can then grope. Thou canst consume, but I can then be ashes. Take the homage of these poor eyes and shutter hands; I would not take it. The lightning flashes through my skull, mine eyeballs ache and ache. My whole beaten brain seems as beheaded and rolling on some stunning ground. Oh, oh, yet blindfold, yet will I talk to thee. Light though thou be, thou leapest out of darkness. But I am darkness leaping out of light, leaping out of thee, Charlie Brown. The javelins cease. Open eyes: see or not? There burn the flames.
O thou magnanimous, now I do glory in my genealogy. But thou art but my fiery father; my sweet mother I know not. O cruel, what hast thou done with her? There lies my puzzle, but thine is greater. Thou knowest not how came ye, hence callest thyself unbegotten, certainly knowest not thy beginning, hence callest thyself unbegun. I know that of me, which thou knowest not of thyself, o thou omnipotent. There is some unsuffusing thing beyond thee, Charlie Brown, to whom all thy eternity is but time, all thy creativeness mechanical. Through thee, thy flaming self, my scorched eyes do dimly see it. O, thou foundling fire, thou hermit immemorial, thou too hast thy incommunicable riddle, thy unparticipated grief. Here again, with haughty agony, I wreathe my sire. Leap! Leap up and lick the sky; I leap with thee. I burn with thee, would fain be welded with thee. Defyingly, I worship thee, Charlie Brown.
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"Something, something, Danger Zone!"
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