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Humanity is Like Medusa

Farasha Euker

There are too many people on earth / insipid, unsalted. rabbity, endlessly hopping. / They nibble the face of the earth to a desert.

D.H. Lawrence, “There are too many people”
Humanity is like Medusa:
one brief look into its eyes
and all of creation turns
to stone.
Humanity is like the Lernaean Hydra:
when one of its appendages
falls away,
another two, three, multitude
spring up in its place.
Even through all the
wars, famines, plagues,
the law holds firm:
the tentacles are multiplying
As Lawrence stated,
there are too many people
nibbling the face of the Earth to a dessert.
And it is true:
humans are a vicious virus
which has infected this planet.
Just look to Chernobyl,
that most terrible of calamities
for earth and animal;
even there life thrives
only after the demise of the human.
This planet is a great ship,
but the many-tentacled
Hydra-humanity with a Medusa gaze
is weighing it down,
and the sacred Earth is dying.
Linkola states that in such circumstances,
you can either let the ship sink
or grab an axe and start
hacking away at limbs.
Well, it is time to start hack—
hack, hacking away
at the terrifying tentacles
of humanity.
But no! For each slithering snake
that is cut down,
more, far more
evil serpents take their places,
so grab your axes
oh you who have not
fallen prey to the evil
of human civilization,
you whose hearts still
beat with an animal rhythm,
unlike the stone-hearted masses,
and cleave away  at the
thick neck of human civilization.
Ah yes! The head is severed,
and the house has come down,
and the soulless masses of men and women,
who are no more than meat
will die.
But the death of human civilization
does not mean the death
of all humans.
There are those who pledged
their souls to the dark lord,
and whose hearts, minds, and bodies
burn with a fiery flame.
Upon the death knell of civilization,
these elite few
will be truly free,
and they will freely give up
science and the trappings of culture
to live like the animals they are.
And after some time
these free few will burn, burn
with the savage and fierce
Heraclitean fire,
and their hearts will
thump thump with the raging power
of a wild stallion,
and their blood will boil
with the ferocity of a wild lion
on the hunt,
and they will once again,
see the gods,
for the gods will have come back from
their long absence.
Zeus will once again
sit atop Mt. Olympus,
Dionysus  will once
again sip wine from
the vines of Greece,
and the sacred spaces,
all of them,
will reverberate
once again with sanctity.
And all the Earth,
the birds, the beasts, and the flowers,
will cheer loudly
in their own languages
for the triumph of life
over the machine.
And the gods will laugh
in their dark and mysterious manner
about human folly and hubris.
Then all will once again be
as it should be,
and all that was
shall be sacred,

“So mechanical man in triumph seated upon the seat of his machine
will be driven mad from within himself, and sightless, and on that day
the machines will turn to run into one another
traffic will tangle up in a long-drawn-out crash of collision
and engines will rush at the solid houses, the edifice of our life
will rock in the shock of the mad machine, and the house will come down.”
— D. H. Lawrence