In the beginning was the logos, the reason for it all.
In the vast, infinite emptiness of space, arose a single point, a divine soul which named itself Chaos. It contemplated everything a wise, cosmic being such as itself could ever contemplate. However, once Chaos opened its onyx eyes, only to realize and see the wonderment of it all, it felt the pull to create in order to share this wonderful existence. In one big bang it diffused itself in every direction. Out of Chaos, that divine soul, evolved a second point, which begat the line. Next, the third point begat a surface, and the fourth begat the solid. This ultimate order created the mathematical grounding for the heavenly cosmos. However, the four points didn’t just provide the basis for the physical universe but also for consciousness. It also begat intelligence, understanding, opinion, and sense. These created the pre-established harmony. Then, all of a sudden, Chaos blinked its onyx eyes and a wave of energy traveled throughout the cosmos and set it into motion. Out of Chaos arose Earth, Eros, and Tartarus. These were the Primordial gods–the first gods. These Primordials were the keepers of heaven and earth, striving to balance the cosmos. They were giants wielding great power and might.
Â These gods filled the vaulted, dark skies with brightly lit stars that danced. They covered the Earth in rich, green grass. They then filled the deepest parts of the Earth with water until it quenched the land. Upon earth, beings began to come and eat from the great Earth, one being was named man. It sacrificed in awe to these great divinities, as it looked up with reverence and piety. As eons passed, these great gods gave birth to a new generation of gods named the Titans. However, so frightened of losing their own power, they tried to subdue this new, strong race. Their attempt failed and the Titans prevailed as Uranus, the god of the heavens above, was chastised and overthrown by his own son, Kronos, the god of Time. After this struggle, the Primordials disappeared into the ether of things, never to be heard from again.
Kronos ruled the cosmos and brought about a golden era of peace and prosperity, but he still heard wind of a prophecy that, like his father, he too would be overthrown by his children no matter how justly he ruled. Kronos sired six children, one of them being cunning Zeus, who tricked Kronos. This new generation was named the Olympians. Kronos tried to prevent a rebellion but it was too late as lightening flashed and thunder clapped, and history was repeated; a long, devastating war broke out between the Titans and the Olympians. Through the struggle of generations, of the oppression of parents to their children, to make way for a new dawn, a challenge presented itself, a struggle to overcome the bygone days to make way for a new order of the ages. The Olympians wanted to set foot atop the hegemonic hold over which the previous generation had held. Both bent on devotion for one’s own people, the great Titanomachy occurred. Out of this war, the Olympians conquered, and through that came peace and order, but at a price. All the titans, save a few, were cast into the underworld. The few that had the foresight to side with Zeus, one being Prometheus, sat among the Olympians. However, contempt grew in Prometheus’ heart for this god of gods for what he had done to his once mighty race.
This new ruthless ruler, Zeus, looked down upon man and saw a scared and fractured people littering the mortal realm. He wanted to do them in. However, Prometheus, with the love of humanity in his heart, stole fire from Zeus and gave it to mankind. From the gift of fire civilization began. Humanity was able to cook their meats, heat their homes, and it also brought a special power to man. It lit a light within mankind that led to the cave of creativity for rational deliberation, for poetry and prose, and for philosophy and science. Wanting to create anew, Zeus decides to flood the world ridding all men and women from the face of the planet. Prometheus, witnessing Zeus’ decision, decides to turn the tides and hide his son Deucalion and his wife Pyrrha, and told them to build an arc so the human race can live on. After the flood, Deucalion and his wife throw stones, given to them by Prometheus, over their shoulders. The stones Deucalion threw became men. The stones Pyrrha threw became women. This was a new beginning for mankind.
Time after time the human race sieged war against itself. Prometheus’ children were a blot on the earth, Zeus believed, an utter failure to see between seas. Over time he saw a need to rid the earth of mankind once again. What they were doing to the earth and to themselves was a terrible sight to see.
As a beacon of light amidst the cloudy heights, an ancient titan, Prometheus, the god of foresight, sat there contemplating. Wanting to relieve man of this unruly cruelty, with a sight that had mental acuity, Prometheus, felt it was his duty to lighten the load with a means to mind, and bestow the blows. Seeing humanities own struggle of generations, of the oppression of parents to their children to make way for a new dawn, for freedom, it was time for Prometheus to take an interest in human affairs once again. Wanting to steer the way by putting the right person, in the right place, at the right time, he thought he could change human history. Nonetheless, Prometheus knew there is only one sure fire way to forge a man who will find his steel. So Prometheus traveled to the council of Zeus.
“My lord, I agree mankind is at an impasse. However, I believe it may be more prudent to go another course so not to be too coarse.”
Looking at Prometheus with both brows bent, Zeus said, “Man has had its chance titan.”
“My lord, please, I see a future where man and god live in harmony. Where man sacrifices in awe to your great divinity. There is no need to wield your powerful might against such a being. There is another way, a gentler way to show your strength in mercy.”
“You stood in my way last time titan. You will not stand in my way again. Man must feel the weight and fate of their own mortality.”
“I agree, they must feel this weight to achieve a life worth living without sympathy, a life lived with dignity. Through the storms and stresses man must overcome or succumb. Wisdom through suffering is the surest path to look pass troubled times in order to focus with fortitude toward the future.”
“What are you saying, Prometheus?”
“I believe there is still a last hope, my lord. I’ve found one young youth that might have the grist for such greatness. This mere mortal can forecast a past that will lead the way towards a golden era unsurpassed, but we must give him a gift to help him along the way. If he can’t suffer the blows, only to break rather than bend, then you can decide humanities fate.”
Tired of this titan’s talking, Zeus holds his head as Prometheus waits. “It is done. This man may receive your proffering you are offering.”
“Thank you, my grace.”
There are two great jars that stand atop Mount Olympus. One holds humanities mean miseries, the other their beautiful blessings. The Gods live an eternally blessed life. However, human beings receive a mixture of the two. This is a story of a single youth who lived as if he were on the isle of the blessed, contemplating things of first importance. Recognizing this ill-proportion of received blessings, Zeus and Prometheus corrected his course, with mixed, mean, malice and malady so that he felt the weight and fate of his own mortality.
With a Hellenic look, Prometheus thinks with a thousand-yard stare. Perched atop the mountain, standing in the storm, lightning strikes, one could only see a flash of a god in the darkened sky. Hearing the rain hit his body like granite, he lengthily looks at this young man with love and pity.
“Everyone wants their play to be beautiful,” said the titan deeply, “but the price for admission does not come cheaply. Let’s watch as you weave your way through troubled seas. The only way out is through unless you flee. The soil is set, the sun shines bright, let’s watch this green tree grow despite all plights. For there is hope in humanity if they stand firm during the storm and stress. There is much work to be done, my dear son. The time has come where this God’s rule must come to an end or humanity will soon suffer again. Hang in there, I’ll be there, young Daniel Daedalus.
When the oracle fails us, when the saint is silent, and God chooses not to reveal himself, that’s when, in the darkness of fear and confusion, we turn on the light that lies within. (D. Robinson)
Resting in his basement flat, with only a bag, a blanket, a chair, and a lamp, rests a man unprepared for manhood, who has been wondering, for some months, where things went wrong, what kind of life is right for him, and what his life is amounting to.