In a universe so vast where humanity is not even a speck on a speck, existence itself is an indelible reminder of our own insignificance. Adrift in its unfathomable infinitude, being dangles ever tenuously athread the abyss. Isolated in this endless expanse, psyche spun a circuitous yearn to suspend its dread of emptiness, but that weave could not sustain the relentless drag of existence, ensnaring, thereby, spirit’s own demise in the tangle of its collapse. According to contemporary particle physics, microcosmic strings reverberates not from the invisible hand of God, but through their own proclivity towards entropy. Be it sub-atomic or intergalactic, matter’s cadence towards chaos echoes throughout the chasm in which existence is suspended. Contrary to diffusion theory, the universe end not with a whimper, but persists in its everlasting cacophony.
Whiles the web suspended existence, its shimmering strands also effectively obscured the crevasses within by transfixing attention on its glittering surfaces. But that sliver lining would inevitably be ripped apart by civilization’s drive towards objectification, exposing its emptiness within. While unsnarling its weave was imperative to disentangling the web of self-deception, severing those ties also precipitated spirit’s slithering slide. Guided by Reason’s quest for the end of history, gist had telescoped for deliverance from afar rather than redemption within. The result was not the expected hegemony of exteriority, but spirit’s perilous descend into the bottomless void. In our zeal to divide mind from body, matter’s innate potentiality was obliviously forsaken. As a consequence of its severage, a penumbra of misunderstanding transmuted an integral cosmos into a universe of quite desperation. Casting ever darkly, its shadow partitioned material exteriority from the ultramaterial strivings of interiority. Encumbered thus, by the ensuing alienation, existence was laden with an unbearable lightness of being. Our knitted asylum thus unspun; wobbly is now the spider run. The time has come to renounce this dichotomy so as to awaken the deeper understanding that ultramatter is the otherness, rather than the other way around. Only by thus awaking, can understanding understand that as life needs the material substrate to sustain physical existence, ultramaterial reflexivity is no less necessary to usher meaning unto its metaphysical existence.
The fallen angels are budhisattvas of humanity’s awakening. Their devotion to our enlightenment impels them to continually rekindle the smoldering embers within ultramateriality to illuminate care as the necessary precondition for the physical/metaphysical exchange. In a universe devoid of ultramateriality, there would be no caring. Were that so, humanity would be less than a speck. But in so far as each of us has the ultramaterial capacity to care, which is consecrated in a pathos that enables us to discern the dissonance laced within the fibers of existence, the task of binding the metaphysical to the physical is ours alone. Only by consummating this cardinal bondage can virtue be realized in an otherwise amoral universe. The time has come to realize that our falleness is not a disgrace but, indeed, a state of grace. The time has come to embrace our falleness as a parallel human bondage to which the fallen angels have already demonstrated as the mortal embodiment of the cardinal virtue necessary for each of us to realize our metaphysical awakening.