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By C.K. Williams
That there is an entity, vast, omnipotent but immaterial, inaccessible to all human sense save hearing.
That this entity has a voice with which it can, or at least could once speak, and in a possibly historical
but credible even if mythic past it did speak, to a small group of human beings, always male.
That not only did these primordial addressees receive the entity’s disclosures with perfect accuracy,
they also transcribed them (writing them down as they were spoken but no matter if years later)
literally, with precision, and no patching of gaps with however inspired imaginative spackle.
That the disseminators, adepts, prophets, priests, of these forbiddingly complicated inscribings,
these clumps of bebannered slashes of chisel or quill, interpreted them so as to extract correctly
the mostly illogical imperatives, prohibitions, and rigorous modes of existence implied in them.
That inherent in these interpretations was the thesis that the now silent entity intended its legitimacy
to be transferred to various social institutions, which, though in no obvious relation to it itself,
would have the prerogative to enact in its name anything necessary for the perpetuation of their dominion.
That what is often specified by the inheritors of those thrice-removed sanctifications, that certain other groups,
by virtue of being in even potential disagreement with the entity’s even tacit wishes, become offensive,
and must be amputated, slaughtered, has been deduced correctly from these syllogistic tangles.
That the corollary also holds: that those selected to commit slaughter, shall be prepared to be slaughtered,
to give up this life, this brilliance—(can’t you see how briefly it gleams, this sliver, this glimpse?)—
gamble away, discard, the absolutely precious fragment of time and space they have been granted.
That the “leaders,” who orchestrate and finally most benefit from this slaughterer-slaughteree equation,
having slathered themselves with entity-merit, are to be considered uniquely necessary and essential,
and so exempted from any harmful or potentially harmful results of what they themselves effect.
And that all this will continue, go on and on, the same formulations, same unfaltering faulty logic,
same claim of truth extracted from the ticks of good or bad, yes and no, existence, non-existence,
these binomial mental knots we suffer and destroy for, and which go on and on, on and on and on.
Poem available in Salmagundi No. 153-154.
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