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'Hour three zero, thousandth year of the dogscape. We are broadcasting live from old city, revival radio headquarters. This is spiritual resistance, the heart of the struggle. I am your host Anderson Shen. How precious is memory. The immaterial preservation of a golden age ideal. It takes a special being, a blessed being, to have the capacity to immortalise an age in this way, and in doing so immortalising what greatness now lies dormant within us, that was capable of issuing forth that old world so alien to our own today. The monuments they built, veiled in fur, they stand all the same. They stand as testaments to our truth. Indeed the fundamental nature of our present world is alien, it does not reflect the human spirit, it cannot be bent to our will. It is the master of itself and has threatened to master us, to plunge us into the darkest depths of primitivism. To forget the god in us. The god in man, the god in woman, the god in children. And you may look inwards now and sense that god I speak of and it may not speak to you but it will make itself known in its own profound way. Then there are those who have volunteered themselves as servants to this most dreadful affliction. They deny the god in us. They propose an inhuman creator and deny the old world altogether. They deny the crowning accomplishments of humanity and reduce us to the station of the ticks and lice, competing for a place in a world we were never intended for. They deny us ourselves, our claim to greatness. If we forget ourselves, we are merely ticks and fleas. If we can't change our world, it will surely change us. And the tribes are lost to these lies. As we embark on our journey for civilisation, nationhood, godhood...the scape is levelled against us. But what odds we have overcome. We have persisted for a millennia in a world that should have wiped us out. A world of lice. We adapted, but at a great cost. The creator, the true creator, within us, a reflection of ourselves, is still with us. And we have only to wait and believe, wait and endure. They lie that this is creation, that we were always of the scape, that the scape was bestowed upon us and we grew with it. This is an affliction. And when you realise this, your heart will soar, there will be songs of beauty and jubiliation, there will be the exaltation of all that is righteous, there will be prayer and it will be heard! And hope will take hold of us by the millions... This is an abomination. And as we wander this wasteland, we seek not a place, but ourselves. And from there we will overcome. |