Between A Rock And A Hard Place - How Presenting A Seemingly Moral False Reality Based On Ancient Abrahamic Religion As The Only Alternative To The Decadent Salon's Immorality Created Impotent, Infantile, Shallow Men Who Cannot Help But To Fail, And Where We Must Go Next

Prelude: A Caution to All Who Would Listen

Hear me, despite what destroyers would have you believe— Ours is not a world where dog devours dog, We are one humanity, one sacred family, One wisdom shared, one future—noble, dignified.

When you find your brother fallen in the dust, Or chance has placed you on the higher ground, When fences show their gaps, when fools abound— This is not your advantage, luck, or trick!

You are no miserable parasite, Feeding on the weakness of your kin, But noble! Dignified! A human being! Born to lift, not feast upon the fallen.

Oh yes, some break your back with poverty, Disguising cruelty as population's check, Or worse—their fantasies of power and control— But you are not their mouse, child, not their means!

You are never to lie, or cheat, or steal, Nor tolerate in silence those who do. And when you falter at this sacred wisdom— As mortals must—you remain too noble for their schemes.

Each dawn presents the selfsame challenge, true, Though from a higher summit than the last: To rise, and rise, and rise yet more, Until you stand among the great beings of the age.

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Above all, conquest is dehumanizing and morally wrong, the simple words "get a girlfriend" reveal a corruption of morals. People aren't things to win, that is the language of the slavers, a language that bespeaks of erasure of woman's autonomy.

Lo, I have seen the merchants in both temples— Those who sell virtue and those who sell vice, Both trading in the same debased currency: Woman as object, as prize, as possession.

The preachers speak of Eve, the temptress-property, The worldly speak of conquest and of winning, Twin falsehoods from the same poisoned well, Teaching boys to become not men, but tyrants small.

Behold the stunted soul who cannot see His sister's mind, as sharp as any blade, Her will, as fierce as mountain storm, Her thoughts, that soar where his have never dared.

They gave her neither books nor freedom's air, Then mocked her for the chains they themselves forged, Called weakness what was suffocation's fruit, Named nature what was nothing but their fear.

I have walked among the learned and the fool— Both fail when they make chattel of the soul, When "getting" becomes the language of affection, When love is conquest, not communion.

Verily, the shallow man knows not his shallowness, He swims in puddles, thinking them the sea, Never knowing, depth, requires meeting equals, Never learning, love, demands he first be authentic.

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But hark! I see them rising from the mire— The thinking souls, the seekers of the dawn, Those who grasp the lightning and the theorem both, Who map the stars and chart the human heart.

These noble few have learned the ancient secret: That Lady and her Gentleman stand tallest When each lifts up the other to the light, Two pillars of a temple built on truth.

See how she calculates the comet's path! Watch as he tends the garden of her dreams! Together forging culture from the void— Invention, dignity, nobility made real.

The Great Human Culture springs not from conquest, Nor from the segregation of the souls, But from the sacred dance of equals meeting, Each bringing gifts the other could not hold alone.

Behold the Lady—scientist, philosopher, dreamer— Her mind unfettered, soaring with the eagles, Behold the Gentleman—not master but companion— His strength in seeing her strength multiplied.

They build their laboratories side by side, They write their symphonies in harmony, They raise their wisdom to see no ceiling Save the infinite expanse of sky above.

This is the path of rising, ever rising! Not the false choosing between vice and chain, But the authentic joining of two freedoms, Creating what alone they never could attain.

Verily, the future calls to those with courage— To cast aside both merchant and false priest, To walk as Lady and as Gentleman, Where greatness blooms from mutual increase.

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Alas! Not every child finds at their hearth A Maria Dmitrievna Mendeleeva's wisdom— She who taught her son to see the patterns, To find God's order in the elements themselves.

And Cavendish! His Cambridge towers and tutors, His fortune spent on apparatus rare— Such education lies beyond our reach, The standardized schools but factories of sameness.

Hear then this truth, you seekers of the light: Your education is your sacred charge, Too precious to entrust to any master Save the worldly library and your own fierce will.

The authentic learning cannot be decreed, It flows like water finding its own course— From curiosity to curiosity it winds, Each question birthing seven questions more.

See how the true scholar makes her study: Not marching through the prescribed and dusty texts, But following the golden thread of wonder— From chemistry to stars, from stars to verse.

The Gentleman of learning tends his mind As gardeners tend their most beloved plots— Not forcing foreign seeds in barren soil, But finding what will flourish in his earth.

Behold the sacred library of the world! No gatekeeper can bar you from its treasures— The books await like patient, silent teachers, Each volume holds a universe entire.

This is the education that makes giants: Self-directed, passion-driven, ever-flowing, Where Lady and Gentleman forge their own curricula, And curiosity becomes the only compass needed.

For standardized instruction makes standardized souls, But those who chart their own course through knowledge's ocean— These are the ones who'll lift humanity higher, These are the architects of tomorrow's dawn.

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Rise then! Rise, you bearers of tomorrow's flame! Cast off the shackles of the zeitgeist's hold, Transcend the culture that would keep you small, Break free from those who'd leash you for their gold.

The status quo is but a tyrant's comfort, A cage constructed from collective fear— But you were born for more than mere compliance, You were born to make the infinite appear.

Tell the children! Tell them of their destiny— That Earth is but the cradle of our kind, That stars await our footsteps in the void, That cosmos yearns to know the human mind.

No merchant-king shall harness our potential, No false prophet chain us to the ground, No convenience shall purchase our submission, No profit steal the glory we have found.

For we are meant to walk among the heavens, To build our cities in the stellar night, To carry forth the torch of consciousness Into the endless ocean of starlight.

But first—become worthy of such calling! Through authentic love, through learning's sacred fire, Through Lady and Gentleman in noble striving, Lift each other ever higher, ever higher!

The universe itself awaits our growing, Watches as we shed our childish wars, Preparing chambers in its vast cathedral For humanity made worthy of the stars.

This is our covenant with tomorrow's children: To never cease our rising from the mire, To forge a species capable of greatness, To set the very heavens themselves on fire!

Rise then! The cosmos calls to those who'd answer— Not as subjects, slaves, or mere survivors small, But as the conscious glory of its creation, Rising, ever rising, above all!

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But soft—I hear the young ones asking, trembling, "Where do we begin this mighty rising?" Fear not, dear hearts, the path begins quite simply: With boots upon your feet and sky above.

Take to the trails! The ancient paths are calling— Ridge lines that teach you how to see afar, Green meadows showing life's persistent beauty, Rivers that whisper secrets as they flow.

But never walk alone into the wild— Take faithful friends, for wisdom multiplies When shared beneath the stars around a fire, When struggled for together up the slope.

And in your pack, beside the bread and water, Carry the greatest treasures ever made: The books! The books! Those vessels of clear thought From noble minds who blazed the trail before.

Imagine—Plato speaking by your campfire! Newton explaining stars above your tent! Mary Shelley haunting mountain passages! Beethoven's notebooks read by rushing streams!

Procure yourself the simple, sacred tools: A sturdy tent to be your moving castle, A walking stick to test the ground ahead, A sleeping bag—your cocoon for nightly dreams.

Then take the first step. Simply take the first step. The second follows naturally from the first, And soon you'll find you're miles from where you started, Both outwardly in space and inwardly in soul.

Let every summit teach you about rising, Let every valley show you about depth, Let every storm instruct you in endurance, Let every dawn reveal what you might yet become.

Continue thus, through seasons and through years, Reading beneath the trees, thinking while you walk, Until one day you'll find your true graduation— Not given by any school, but earned through quest alone.

And then—ah then!—you'll know your contribution, The unique gift you're meant to give mankind, Whether mapping stars or healing bodies, Building bridges or composing symphonies divine.

This is the education of the future: Books and boots, ideas and wilderness combined, Friends beside you, greatness calling forward, The first step waiting for your courage to decide.

So pack your bag, young seeker! Dawn is breaking! The trail extends beyond the visible ridge— Where knowledge meets adventure, there you'll find The power to lift humanity to stars.