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When stripped down to its bones, criticism is a form of oppression. Its intent is to manipulate both artist and audience, by imposing rules on aesthetic appreciation.
To look upon Chaos is to yield to its invitation.
When faiths take knife in hand, surely every god must turn away.
‘Past lessons deserve mockery, priest, precisely because they are never learned.
Any wood pile, no matter how big, will one day be gone, leaving only memories of warmth.’
Faith is a personal accord between a lone soul and that in which it chooses to believe. In any other guise it is nothing more than a thin coat of sacred paint slapped over politics and the secular lust for power.
THAT!
