And how could the Soul lend itself to any admixture? An essential is not mixed. Or of the intrusion of anything alien? If it did, it would be seeking the destruction of its own nature. Pain must be equally far from it. And Grief- how or for what could it grieve? Whatever possesses Existence is supremely free, dwelling, unchangeable, within its own peculiar nature. And can any increase bring joy, where nothing, not even anything good, can accrue? What such an Existent is, it is unchangeably.
Nostalgia can be contained and marketed—but actual difference would threaten the hegemony of the one worldview. The “Gift Economy” of some nearly-extinguished “primitive tribe” makes excellent TV; our mourning for its disappearance can only boost the sales of whatever commodity might soothe our sense of loss. Mourning itself can become fetishized, as in the victorian era of onyx and jet and black-plumed graveyard horses. Death is good for Capital, because money is the sexuality of the dead. Corpses have already appeared in advertising—”real” corpses.
Hakim Bey, The Obelisk
It is old. Older than the world itself. Some say it came from another place, somewhere far away; maybe even amongst the stars, if such a thing is possible. Whatever it is, I can’t say, for I’ve never seen it and anyone who has is sent insane.
Steven A McKay, Knight of the Cross: A Knights Hospitaller Novella
We can have whatever we want, whenever we want it, and it’s getting boring. I want something I can’t have.
Guy New York, The Ortolan Hunters and Other Disturbing Tales