Sunday, January 28, 2007

And Again, the Fallen May Rise

It had been fifteen years since that day that everyone said would surely wake them up once and for all.

Fifteen years since the bastion was breached.

Fifteen years.

Floods, famine, pestilence itself: all may come and go, and yet ignorance seems always to prevail. Numbed, crazy...ignorance.

It truly amazed him, how the daft find methods to cope. Adapt.

He would think, "improvisation", but, they were, after all - the daft.

Logical sense would tell you...dictate, really...that when one lives in the lap of luxury, when one wants for nothing, nill, nada - Why on earth take chances with such stylized opulence? Why do anything, anything to chance it; to throw it all away?

What could possibly be more important?

Some said it was the lust that got them. The desire for something that they were somehow denied in this life.

Why turn against a master to have something that by staying in His realm would one day be yours anyway?

It was that way with the fallen. For Les, they'd always been an enigma.

More than curiosity, or academic pursuit, for him they'd become personified. Real.

They weren't just from the realm of legend. They were once angel's. What was Shakespeare's quote? Hamlet, I believe? "In form, how like angels, in apprehension, how like a God!", or some such something.

If only they had apprehension; even a little.

I think this was the intrigue for Les. How not at all unlike ourselves were they, the Fallen.

I once heard him lecture at a local civic club. His ideas were radical, even back then.

Of course, after the great attack, well, things had changed. Now, his ideas have some stock, now that people are once again all concerned with good, and evil.

"Of course they had it all, but they wanted what they had not. They were jealous of God's gift to man (woman)...any angel in the universe was at their call, but they yearned for that beauty given to the lowly man."

It seemed peculiar now. The enemy, it seems wanted in this life to cross to the next to get what the Fallen had come here for in theirs, the creation of evil.

Peculiar.

Peculiar (and daft).

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