Creation is like Moloch's computer. Moloch sits down at his keyboard and creates posts for the forum. He designs them with reasonable care. He artistically places all the words in their correct places. Then he posts them. They are his works of art, his creations.
What if Moloch's words had a life of their own? What if the things he was attempting to say with his creative words, was corrupted because the words took on their own life and changed themselves into things that they wanted rather than what Moloch wanted? What if this happened with almost all of his words? What would Moloch do?
Would Moloch, out of love for the good things the words could say, give the words a second chance to turn back to be as he created them? How many chances would he give them? How long would it take before Moloch erased the batch of his rebellious words, and wrote new words in their place? And how long would he put up with the new words when they rebelled like the old?
Would Moloch ever fall in love with the words so that he would be designing them for their own good? Or would he always be simply doing it for his own pleasure?
How long would it take Moloch before he got a new keyboard? And if he found that getting a new keyboard didn't help, how long would it take before he reloaded the OS on his computer? Or maybe he would get a new computer, and completely trash his old one.
What if Moloch's words had a life of their own? What if the things he was attempting to say with his creative words, was corrupted because the words took on their own life and changed themselves into things that they wanted rather than what Moloch wanted? What if this happened with almost all of his words? What would Moloch do?
Would Moloch, out of love for the good things the words could say, give the words a second chance to turn back to be as he created them? How many chances would he give them? How long would it take before Moloch erased the batch of his rebellious words, and wrote new words in their place? And how long would he put up with the new words when they rebelled like the old?
Would Moloch ever fall in love with the words so that he would be designing them for their own good? Or would he always be simply doing it for his own pleasure?
How long would it take Moloch before he got a new keyboard? And if he found that getting a new keyboard didn't help, how long would it take before he reloaded the OS on his computer? Or maybe he would get a new computer, and completely trash his old one.
That is some epic praise for Moloch, but I like Allen Ginsberg's rendition better:
Quote from: Howl - Act 2
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smoke-stacks and antennae crown the cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible madhouses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pavements, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
Isaiah 14: On the day the LORD gives you relief from suffering and turmoil and cruel bondage, you will take up this taunt against
Quote
How the oppressor has come to an end!
How his fury
has ended!
The LORD has broken the rod of the wicked,
the scepter of the rulers,
which in anger struck down peoples
with unceasing blows,
and in fury subdued nations
with relentless aggression.
All the lands are at rest and at peace;
they break into singing.
Even the pine trees and the cedars of Lebanon
exult over you and say,
Now that you have been laid low,
no woodsman comes to cut us down.
The grave
below is all astir
to meet you at your coming;
it rouses the spirits of the departed to greet you
all those who were leaders in the world;
it makes them rise from their thrones
all those who were kings over the nations.
They will all respond,
they will say to you,
You also have become weak, as we are;
you have become like us.
All your pomp has been brought down to the grave,
along with the noise of your harps;
maggots are spread out beneath you
and worms cover you.
How you have fallen from heaven,
O morning star, son of the dawn!
You have been cast down to the earth,
you who once laid low the nations!
You said in your heart,
I will ascend to heaven;
I will raise my throne
above the stars of God;
I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly,
on the utmost heights of the sacred mountain.
I will ascend above the tops of the clouds;
I will make myself like the Most High.
But you are brought down to the grave,
to the depths of the pit.
Those who see you stare at you,
they ponder your fate:
Is this the man who shook the earth
and made kingdoms tremble,
the man who made the world a desert,
who overthrew its cities
and would not let his captives go home?
All the kings of the nations lie in state,
each in his own tomb.
But you are cast out of your tomb
like a rejected branch;
you are covered with the slain,
with those pierced by the sword,
those who descend to the stones of the pit.
Like a corpse trampled underfoot,
you will not join them in burial,
for you have destroyed your land
and killed your people.
The offspring of the wicked
will never be mentioned again.
Prepare a place to slaughter his sons
for the sins of their forefathers;
they are not to rise to inherit the land
and cover the earth with their cities.
I will rise up against them,
declares the LORD Almighty.
I will cut off fromBabylon her Moloch his name and survivors,
her offspring and descendants,
declares the LORD.
I will turn her into a place for owls
and into swampland;
I will sweep her with the broom of destruction,
declares the LORD Almighty.
How his fury
has ended!
The LORD has broken the rod of the wicked,
the scepter of the rulers,
which in anger struck down peoples
with unceasing blows,
and in fury subdued nations
with relentless aggression.
All the lands are at rest and at peace;
they break into singing.
Even the pine trees and the cedars of Lebanon
exult over you and say,
Now that you have been laid low,
no woodsman comes to cut us down.
The grave
below is all astir
to meet you at your coming;
it rouses the spirits of the departed to greet you
all those who were leaders in the world;
it makes them rise from their thrones
all those who were kings over the nations.
They will all respond,
they will say to you,
You also have become weak, as we are;
you have become like us.
All your pomp has been brought down to the grave,
along with the noise of your harps;
maggots are spread out beneath you
and worms cover you.
How you have fallen from heaven,
O morning star, son of the dawn!
You have been cast down to the earth,
you who once laid low the nations!
You said in your heart,
I will ascend to heaven;
I will raise my throne
above the stars of God;
I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly,
on the utmost heights of the sacred mountain.
I will ascend above the tops of the clouds;
I will make myself like the Most High.
But you are brought down to the grave,
to the depths of the pit.
Those who see you stare at you,
they ponder your fate:
Is this the man who shook the earth
and made kingdoms tremble,
the man who made the world a desert,
who overthrew its cities
and would not let his captives go home?
All the kings of the nations lie in state,
each in his own tomb.
But you are cast out of your tomb
like a rejected branch;
you are covered with the slain,
with those pierced by the sword,
those who descend to the stones of the pit.
Like a corpse trampled underfoot,
you will not join them in burial,
for you have destroyed your land
and killed your people.
The offspring of the wicked
will never be mentioned again.
Prepare a place to slaughter his sons
for the sins of their forefathers;
they are not to rise to inherit the land
and cover the earth with their cities.
I will rise up against them,
declares the LORD Almighty.
I will cut off from
her offspring and descendants,
declares the LORD.
I will turn her into a place for owls
and into swampland;
I will sweep her with the broom of destruction,
declares the LORD Almighty.
