Summary

The website content reflects on the inevitability of death and the human condition as a series of sacrifices to time and the gods, marked by vulnerability, loss of control, and the relentless approach of mortality.

Abstract

The text "This Mortal Debt" is a poignant meditation on the human condition, likening life to a loaned body that is destined to return to the earth. It portrays existence as a slow contemplation on death, where the heart beats within a landscape of inevitable decay and sacrifice. The essay underscores the omnipresence of death, which consumes and propels life, acting as a force of gravity that cannot be escaped. It introduces the concept of a higher power, personified as a merciless entity akin to Kali, who demands sacrifices and delights in human pain and bewilderment. The author, Carlo Zeno, conveys a world where individuals are subject to the whims of fate, much like Isaac was at the mercy of an unstable father, leading to a life filled with humiliation and the surrender of one's rights. The text also touches on the broader implications of sacrifice in the face of larger existential threats, such as climate change, suggesting that the gods are growing ever more hungry. The poem within the text laments the sacrifices made, the pain endured, and the illusion of control, ultimately acknowledging the relentless nature of the gods who feast on human suffering.

Opinions

The author views life as a debt to be repaid to death, an unavoidable and often humiliating transaction.
Human existence is depicted as a series of sacrifices, with individuals having little to no control over their fates.
The concept of death is personified as a female deity, akin to Kali, who is both terrifying and revered.
The text suggests that the sacrifices made by humans are not only physical but also emotional and psychological, often involving a loss of dignity and autonomy.
The author implies that the gods, or forces of nature, are indifferent to human suffering, perhaps even deriving pleasure from it.
There is a sense of hopelessness and resignation in the face of larger forces, such as time (Kronos) and the inevitability of climate change, which are seen as insatiable and destructive.
The poem conveys a deep sense of grief and despair, highlighting the futility of human efforts against the power of the gods and the relentless march of time.

This Mortal Debt

Destined for dust

The debt is certain, unmistakable. This body on loan. This mortgage. This house of nerve and bone. This yoke. This rock bound for earth. This plant destined for soil.

What am I but a slow meditation on Death?

Beating heart of some autumn red landscape.

Total sacrifice.

Death consumes some, propels others. Either way it is gravity.

Gravity pulls and menaces. Sometimes She shames, chains, blames, murders.

There is no dodging Her ire.

Your own Boss turns Kali Incarnate. Holds your life in her hands.

You have no rights. You have no protections. You are an ear-marked animal awaiting slaughter.

Much of life is rape. Violation and humiliation. Ingratiating sacrifice.

Dumb unwitting Isaac looking up at an unstable Father — hoping, dreading, waiting for the terrifying whim of the hour.

We are all of us blood sacrifices, terror-laden lottery balls of a passing hour.

We are subject to rape and violation, accident and interruption.

We are Isaacs bound to our own temperaments like stakes — humiliatingly saying ‘yes’ when we mean no.

Helplessly yielding our human rights to our Aggressor.

Like an arbitrary bond refund promised at birth — your own body is traded as unceremoniously as common money.

Your very words are wrenched out of your mouth against your will, at your own expense.

Humiliation is your daily bread.

Kali lives on your sacrifices. What doesn’t She throw in the flames? Our beliefs are made sport of. As for reason, is there an older joke? Our illusion of control is Her favorite candy.

Remember that gutted feeling in San Francisco after your best friend committed suicide? Who’s to say She didn’t delight in it? Our grief warms Her altar. And it’s not only Kali. Violent Varuna is binding you — He is not taking bribes anymore. Yaweh wants your first born — He is not settling for cattle this time.

Climate Change is a growing holocaust — the gods are getting hungry.

What have we done? What are we doing?

Even now do I sacrifice. Anxiety of dripping time Kronos eats the excess fat. Stress is His staple. Your pain is His nourishment. You feed Him your unknowing paralysis, your deep bewilderment and infinite defeat.

Like a slit throat spilling out an entire Sky — Sacrifice can only sing like a gypsy, wounded and plaintive. The gods show no mercy — they delight in your pain and eat your sacrifice.

__________________

Blessed, Blemished, Broken-Hearted

Poem on mixed blessings

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A Loss For Words

The way of failure

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