It was once religion which told us that we are all sinners because of original sin. It is now the ecology of our planet which pronounces us all to be sinners because of the excessive exploits of human inventiveness.
For we must be one thing or the other, an asset or a liability, the sinew in your wing to help you soar, or the chain to bind you to earth.
Being, in the testimony it gives of itself, informs us not only about what it is but also about what we owe it.
That nature does not care, one way or the other, is the true abyss. That only man cares, in his finitude facing nothing but death, alone with his contingency and the objective meaninglessness of his projecting meanings, is a truly unprecedented situation.
The individual mirrors in his individuation the preordained social laws of exploitation, however mediated.
Art is magic delivered from the lie of being truth.
No emancipation without that of society.
The poor are prevented from thinking by the discipline of others, the rich by their own.
After the magical act accomplished by Joyce with Ulysses, perhaps we are getting away from it.
It is a changing world because of the newcomers who keep arriving and who leave us behind. Trying to keep pace with them is doomed to inglorious failure, especially as the pace has quickened so much.