just wanted to post one poem from Michaux’s “Ordeals, Exorcisms” that really struck a cord:

Voices

I heard a voice in those unhappy days and I heard: ‘I shall reduce them, these men, I shall reduce them and already they are reduced although they don’t realize it yet. I shall reduce them to so little that there will be no way of telling man from woman and already they are no l onger what they once were, but since their organs can still interpenetrate they still think themselves different, one this, the other that. But so terrible shall I make them suffer that there will no longer be any organ that matters. I shall leave them only their skeletons, a mere line of their skeleton for them to hang their unhappiness on. They’ve run enough! What do they still need legs for? Their movements are small, small! And it will be much better that way. Just as a statue in a park makes only one gesture, whatever may happen, even so shall I petrify them – but smaller, smaller.’

i heard that voice, I heard it and I shuddered, but not all that much, because I admired it, for its dark determination and its vast though apparently senseless pain. That voice was only one voice among hundreds, filling the top and bottom of the atmosphere and the East and the West, and all of them were aggressive, wicked, hateful, promising a sinister future for man.

But man, panicky in one place, calm in another, had reflexes adn calculations in case of hard times, and he was ready, although he might generally have appeared hunted and ineffectual.

He who can be tripped up by a pebble had already been walking for two hundred thousand years when I heard the voices of hatred adn threadts which meant to frighten him.

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