But catastrophe nears. Poetry can prescribe the medicine our sickness needs. The Buddhist concept of night livelihood demands an ecotropic poetic. Because we can no longer distinguish this from that, constructing the new Skambha requires a new definition of evil. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.
Respiration changes the weather.
Vile priests crudely tapped into the energy trapped in the dead. The globe is strewn with sacrificial corpses. Priest-class control of the masses through sacrifice served as a yoke to keep them working, piling up wealth for the overlords. Life was perceived as a mask worn on the face of death. Poets sang out the party line.