This one applies pretty well too:
Yea, it findeth you out too, ye conquerors of the old God! Weary ye became of the conflict, and now your weariness serveth the new idol!
The state, I call it, where all are poison-drinkers, the good and the bad: the state, where all lose themselves, the good and the bad: the state, where the slow suicide of all--is called "life."
Towards the throne they all strive: it is their madness--as if happiness sat on the throne! Ofttimes sitteth filth on the throne.--and ofttimes also the throne on filth.
Madmen they all seem to me, and clambering apes, and too eager. Badly smelleth their idol to me, the cold monster: badly they all smell to me, these idolaters.
My brethren, will ye suffocate in the fumes of their maws and appetites! Better break the windows and jump into the open air!
Open still remaineth a free life for great souls. Verily, he who possesseth little is so much the less possessed: blessed be moderate poverty!
There, where the state ceaseth--there only commenceth the man who is not superfluous: there commenceth the song of the necessary ones, the single and irreplaceable melody. -Nietzsche
Blake Houghton đ
npub1p5âŚz54dt
2023-07-28 18:15:44
in reply to nevent1qâŚl6td
Author Public Key
npub1p5wa26hryppj3ezl0zc6vjkg7pkjyuff7a65j047sn8jsfgdrmrqqz54dtSeen on
wss://relay.noswhere.comPublished at
2023-07-28 18:15:44Event JSON
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"content": "This one applies pretty well too:\n\n\nYea, it findeth you out too, ye conquerors of the old God! Weary ye became of the conflict, and now your weariness serveth the new idol!\n\nThe state, I call it, where all are poison-drinkers, the good and the bad: the state, where all lose themselves, the good and the bad: the state, where the slow suicide of all--is called \"life.\"\n\nTowards the throne they all strive: it is their madness--as if happiness sat on the throne! Ofttimes sitteth filth on the throne.--and ofttimes also the throne on filth.\n\nMadmen they all seem to me, and clambering apes, and too eager. Badly smelleth their idol to me, the cold monster: badly they all smell to me, these idolaters.\n\nMy brethren, will ye suffocate in the fumes of their maws and appetites! Better break the windows and jump into the open air!\n\nOpen still remaineth a free life for great souls. Verily, he who possesseth little is so much the less possessed: blessed be moderate poverty!\n\nThere, where the state ceaseth--there only commenceth the man who is not superfluous: there commenceth the song of the necessary ones, the single and irreplaceable melody. -Nietzsche",
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