I should just stop writing. I should shut up - and so should everyone else. And then we can let the silence really sink in and do its work.
But if I did that, there would certainly be someone to seize upon the space and write some real garbage, completely unhindered. I must continue to put the good out - my good - lest the bad - what I think is bad - drive out the good.
There is a similar problem with capital. The nervous workaholic capitalist sits at his mahogany desk, or what have you, anxiously wringing his hands, terrorstruck that the other capitalists are going to innovate, increase efficiency, and eat his lunch. Or if he were to renounce wealth, all of his friends would sail past him laughing, in their yachts.
And so on with violence. We can't place our guns down, because there is always someone to pick up the gun and take everyone else over.
More generally, there is a constant pouring forth, a pouring outward. And this pouring forth takes its surroundings with it, through sympathetic outpourings in response. It produces a current, an all powerful exertion that sweeps us up.
This is expressed mechanically in our interlocking patterns of cultural reproduction, through the mimetic drive. We see some great power, whether creating or destroying life, and our instinct is to mimic it.
Defense is mimicry out of necessity, and offense to someone else is yet more mimicry as instigation and anticipation. So on it goes.
The memory of the outpouring evokes the outpouring. Anticipation of offense evokes offense, and so offense evokes itself in perpetuity, reproducing its germ even as it crashes against natural limits. Is this to be integral to the human condition?
