Like a thermonuclear power generator locked into an infinity-loop, as the modern poetical myth called science would express it: Today man strives for self-contained hyper-individualism. In his love for liberty he is mistaking and mingling old metaphysical concepts with his academic pseudo-religions, thrown back upon his feeble self by overly populated, chaotic social conglomerates.
The digital age was proclaimed and the Muses wept when script that is culture, was denounced as an unimportant atavism, a thing of the past while I as their lord and leader can only laugh at such fancies as we gods ride on solar winds and create poetry from galactic mists that we form into concrete and well-defined shapes (cause only form is beauty!), we create with and from nature itself! But can man do as we do- can he, envisioning opium-dreams of monadic nomadism realize and make actual this unbound freedom?
To me such endearing attempts are nothing new. Did the mortals not try to match even Me in contests of music and beauty? And the reason for my severity in the punishment of such hubris was not conditioned by cruelty but by my debt to artistic expression that prospers when its lines and the boundaries of the spheres are distinct and clearly defined and when no man impedes the splendour of the gods by trying to make himself Our equal.
So for man this freedom cannot be attained with him still remaining man in all his bestial and compassionate confines, with all his spiritual and imaginary limitations that constitute the foundations of his natural beauty; (but neither is he Satyr or demon, either).
In this day and age I am reminded of my own Titanic blood by some of man’s efforts wherefore I bade my sister to chastely sit beside me and judge and watch from this higher sphere the strive of those human forms: on most who rise up to us we may train our arrows but to a few I might reach out my hand in advice like I once did to the heroic son of Thebes who was Argos' Glory. But thus shall the prophecy be divined: a score will rise unaided and supplant Our Father like he and his brothers once had supplanted Their Titanic forbears.