The world
does not seek to have more existence,
nor does it seek to persist in its existence.
On the contrary, it is looking for the most spiritual way
to escape reality.
Through thought, the world is looking for
what could lead to its own loss.

The absolute rule of symbolic exchange:
is to return what you received.
Never less, but always more.
The absolute rule of thought is to return the world
as we received it: unintelligible.
And if it is possible,
to return it a little more unintelligible.
A little bit more enigmatic.

-excerpt, Radical Thought, by Jean Baudrillard, pub. 1995

Oh, now I see.  I understand how the great abstract systems (democracy, capitalism, Christianity, etc.) with the passage of time transform into something unrecognizable, metastasizing into predatory, violent, feeding-upon-itself, patrons devouring clients…  All of our bids to routinize the world, to colonize the world into some totality, have failed.  To define as an essence, what is an undefinable, a living event, is doomed to failure.

What would you call a sacrilege?  To violate the absolute rule of symbolic exchange?

Will we ever learn?   Our failure has never before been so complete.  In a globalized world is our failure to become the doom of Nature, habitat ruin for vegetative and animal life?

In the distance a wildcat did growl..

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OzlN0Guvous

All Along The Watchtower

By Jimi Hendrix

“There must be some way out of here,” said the joker to the thief,
“There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.”

No reason to get excited”, the thief, he kindly spoke,
“There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late”.

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl.

Composed by Bob Dylan