Evans Experientialism
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| Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900)
Human beings who do not want to belong to the mass need only to stop, and not be comfortable; follow their conscience, which cries out: "Be yourself! All you are now doing, thinking, desiring, is not you yourself."...your educators can be only your liberators... —Schopenhauer as Educator, §1 - From Untimely Meditations |
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THE MADMAN----Have you not heard of that
madman who lit a lantern in the bright
morning
hours, ran to the market place, and
cried
incessantly: "I seek God! I seek
God!"---As
many of those who did not believe in
God
were standing around just then, he
provoked
much laughter. Has he got lost? asked
one.
Did he lose his way like a child? asked
another.
Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us?
Has
he gone on a voyage? emigrated?---Thus
they
yelled and laughed
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced
them with his eyes. "Whither is
God?"
he cried; "I will tell you. We
have
killed him---you and I. All of us are
his
murderers. But how did we do this?
How could
we drink up the sea? Who gave us the
sponge
to wipe away the entire horizon? What
were
we doing when we unchained this earth
from
its sun? Whither is it moving now?
Whither
are we moving? Away from all suns?
Are we
not plunging continually? Backward,
sideward,
forward, in all directions? Is there
still
any up or down? Are we not straying,
as through
an infinite nothing? Do we not feel
the breath
of empty space? Has it not become colder?
Is not night continually closing in
on us?
Do we not need to light lanterns in
the morning?
Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise
of
the gravediggers who are burying God?
Do
we smell nothing as yet of the divine
decomposition?
Gods, too, decompose. God is dead.
God remains
dead. And we have killed him.
"How shall we comfort ourselves, the
murderers of all murderers? What was
holiest
and mightiest of all that the world
has yet
owned has bled to death under our knives:
who will wipe this blood off us? What
water
is there for us to clean ourselves?
What
festivals of atonement, what sacred
games
shall we have to invent? Is not the
greatness
of this deed too great for us? Must
we ourselves
not become gods simply to appear worthy
of
it? There has never been a greater
deed;
and whoever is born after us---for
the sake
of this deed he will belong to a higher
history
than all history hitherto."
Here the madman fell silent and looked again
at his listeners; and they, too, were
silent
and stared at him in astonishment.
At last
he threw his lantern on the ground,
and it
broke into pieces and went out. "I
have
come too early," he said then;
"my
time is not yet. This tremendous event
is
still on its way, still wandering;
it has
not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning
and thunder require time; the light
of the
stars requires time; deeds, though
done,
still require time to be seen and heard.
This deed is still more distant from
them
than most distant stars---and yet they
have
done it themselves.
It has been related further that on the same
day the madman forced his way into
several
churches and there struck up his requiem
aeternam deo. Led out and called to
account,
he is said always to have replied nothing
but: "What after all are these
churches
now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers
of God?" |
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