Toutes les grandes actions et toutes les grandes pensées ont un commencement dérisoire. – Albert Camus
A cycle which completes only once is not a cycle. The anomaly especially provokes skeptics, who demand a second performance. The world follows certain ironclad rules, and we should be able to see it again, assuming the act was genuine. Until such demonstration, judgement is withheld. Though, if it was a magician who performed it, then he refuses to — because he cannot — repeat the trick. So much for miracles.
Cycles, which impress me more than miracles, require wizards or machines, perhaps both in the form of the engineer. The world-cycle, the hatching of cosmic eggs, falls under the jurisdiction of God, almighty sky-wizard (this is no mere deus ex machina). To prove his might, he reminded us the world is his plaything: the king of kings rained over his own art just to punish us. Ask Ovid or Moses or any other of the great historians. When the world began again, we hoped things would be better.
That was our inheritance, the cycle of violence begotten by gods. The Omnipotent creates, preserves, destroys. Mistakes are realized, the modifications made — thus it begins again and again. In retrospect, we call it a Dark Age.
We know not when Ragnarok will come. What shall we do in the meanwhile? The man who accomplishes great things but dies once is a magician, having achieved nothing. Where was his rebirth? He was a one-act play. Let us take up the cycle ourselves. Let us a die a hundred thousand deaths of our own accord. And let us do it quickly.