A Charlatan's Ramblings

 The following is something I type, with advance (and sincerest) apologies to the Big Guy and anyone of faith who chances upon this disjointed assortment of ruminations for in the worst possible scenario, they may be compelled in the extreme to disregard their preconceived notions about it. Reason is a potent motivator, with the requisite allure to make a messiah out of man, complete with unchecked power and no responsibility. Niccolo Machiavelli made quite sure of that. The doors to the realm of heresy demand no rite of passage, rather are more than happily willing to swing open of their own accord. Mind you, this is a realm that does not discriminate on the basis of degrees of abstinence, allowing everyone an equal chance at slowly and eventually (quite violently, I might add) embracing their primal selves.

In an increasingly profane world, as more and more cracks start to appear in the myriad pristine lenses of idyllic outlooks, more and more disillusionment starts to set in as well. The literature that once set imagination free has now been made subject to the conventions of theory. This theory goes on to encompass, contextualize as well as deconstruct reality itself, hollowing out the spontaneity of lived experience, substituting it for a series of overly verbose 'one-size-fits-all' approaches, which are pre-emptive at best, yet are tragically flawed by virtue of being somewhat limited in their scope for mass outreach, spawning discrete 'echo-chambers' all the same. Think of it like an an army, encamped at the outskirts of a city. You as an outside observer, ask to speak to the man in charge, who convinces you quite haughtily that the city is sure to be taken, pending just one final decisive charge. All due inroads have already been made by dutiful scouts. Noticing the confidence in the assurances of the accompanying cavalry (additional reinforcement), you become more or less taken in by the claim. However, you find that it was only after laying siege to the city itself and encountering the pockets of resistance still within, did the campaign truly fall flat on its head. The city had never been conquered, rather the illusion of conquest sold in all of its marketable glory, combining just the right cues: body language, and behavior patterns. Theory is this commander of the future, a performer of epic proportions who thus passes off a motley crew of unsavory sorts as an experienced infantry brigade willing to fight to the death. The pockets of resistance are the true nuances of lived experiences that fully resist and eliminate the superficial advance of faux battle-readiness. 

It is this encroachment that outdates belief in a world that transcends one's own, a world which demands submission before the unseen. Unheard melodies are sweeter only because you can't hear them. Those that are heard, can be transformed through understanding patterns and creating anew on the basis of that. More probably than not, Hans Zimmer listened to Beethoven and Bach and was inspired to create the theme for a heartbroken Davy Jones in  Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. More probably than not, Hans Zimmer's music eclipsed the popularity of both Beethoven and Bach in terms of 're-listening' potential. With due credit given to the greats, here is a man having forever changed the musical landscape. Some idiot in future would reason that given the tenets of the artistic process, incorporating Zimmer's motifs in my own compositions would elevate their quality considerably. Quite certainly, given the chronic vacuum of discernment and a knack for immediate gratification, there would be viewership on the YouTube channel. Sooner or later, some studio executive would stumble upon his music based off of popular reception. Before you know it, the plagiarist is well on his way composing for big-budget films (learning from his mistakes in the process as well, because he is swarthy) where the true artist still finds himself struggling with the weight of inspiration and acknowledgment. 

It is then that with this avalanche of rational thought, one can ascribe patterns to the mystical and the divine. Yet, the downside is that this penchant becomes quite addictive, leading many to forsake belief in that what need not be questioned. The reasoner can thus argue that the prophet was no more than a blind fanatic, polarizing the established secular order of his time. Similarly, God Himself acts in a similar way to that of a loner, threatening to throw the 'disbelievers' in a pit of fire if they do not submit to His authority. Non-compliance to this authority, problematizing of unanimously discerned concepts is what sends one hurtling down the pit of uncertainty, which becomes heralded as the stepping stone for true enlightenment (that is not the case, lest the reader begin to ponder upon this, taking it at face value). Yet, it is a notion beginning to be reinforced and disseminated through all forms of popular media (the 2023 Edward Berger film Conclave as an example. We have previously indirectly glamorized Satanic worship over time through films like The Blackcoat's Daughter in 2015, only to now be showing demonic entities being triumphant over human beings in films like Baghead ultimately coalescing to antagonizing faith itself).

The truth is that reason seems a worthy substitute for faith as it demystifies and brings the untold to its knees, giving one the power to "play God without permission" (Mr. Robot).The father of the atomic bomb in moments of pristine clarity, having witnessed the first atomic test, envisioned himself as the destroyer god Vishnu. Earlier the "power of the Sun in the palm of one's hand" premise had been conceivable only within the scope of Promethean tragedy, a literary tour-de-force of mythical proportions. As a result of the three decades of scientific progress before the Second World War, it had now become a larger-than-life reality, an invisible sword to dangle over your enemy, to thrust into at a time of your own choosing, to satiate this or that geopolitical interest. 

It is indeed with the gift of reason that has dominion over the practical, that the charlatan becomes more powerful than the faith-healer, the silver-tongued philosopher has more sway over the tyrannical mystic. In this clash of titans, it is truth that retreats to an invisible grey area from where it is difficult to salvage.