We used to have a book on the history of philosophers. First was a sixty-page thesis by one great man, soon disproved by a hundred-page thesis of another. It was endless. Every twenty years or so, one sage’s facts were overwhelmed by another’s facts… but none were facts. At the time, each appeared to be the wisest of men (key word), yet, with time, all proved absurd. What tragedies have been inflicted on innocent men, and especially women, by an obsession with “facts”. The Chancellor says it, it’s a fact. Her regime (and the government press) dutifully repeats it, it’s a “fact-check”. When any other Germans speak, it’s a. ignored, or b. fake-news, or c. erased by labeling. Given this situation (unsustainable), myths last forever because people accept them—even long for them--in their heart; versus endless arguments in their head. Facts make us adults in the worst sense of the word--confined to conform—in exchange for a living and health insurance…and acceptance by people who don’t really matter—and often don’t care. Stories that never happened have infinitely greater power than stories that did. The concept of romantic myths are a repressed and forgotten area; latent in every German heart.
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