Imagine life without any kind of death
Death as Divine Intervention into Life Run Amok
The Mythos of Kronos strikes forth, but is it programmed?
A belated bow to the influence of the late Teacher and Priestess Dharma Buford of Saturn and Earth here across the West
The Great White Dragon of Saturn erupts from its swirling cyclone of Kaos to sweep thru desolate matter holding all life in abeyance. The Dragon then morphs into legions of Grim Reapers, their glittering scythes swooping in from Saturn’s infinite cosmic ringtails to harvest every organism alive mirrored as each organism’s reflection, in its futile attempt to quail Spirit’s drive to interpenetrate matter throughout the Universe with its self-replicating infection we call Life. Yet as we Earth Humans divorced science from spirituality and blended religion into politics, we call the study of Life biology. Lost in algorithms despite everything matter and energy being math, we nonetheless marvel at the mysteries of Life’s origins, both here down in Planet Earth and up out there upon other worlds.
Saturn again opens wide its maw to devour everything alive, even the Titans, even its own children. Saturn holds within itself Kronos as some parasitic archon, eating time, and grabs its own tail with its fanged jaws as it circles around the planet. Then it lets go of its tail as it roars in mockery of Ouroboros. Over and over again goes once more the Great White Dragon as it prunes the Kosmos, devouring life which, if left unabated, would grow to fill the space between the stars.
Death is the Perfection of the Divine Intervention. Death is left raw, abandoned, denied by the Mythos of Science. For without it Life will find a way to breed and run amok to smother ever measure of Multiverse with the bubbling miracle ooze of Life, snuffing out even entire stars, devouring even the dusty vacuum of space itself with the iridescent black purple throb of life. For without Death life would consume everything even itself. Without King Death Life would feed without hiatus upon every particle wave of creation until it collapses upon itself to invade and infect both Heaven and Hell, eating up all spirits from demons to angels from gods to goddesses from devils to the fay and turn spirit back upon itself until you and I share another cup of coffee.
King Death demands people pay attention and make the most of the self-awareness possible in a living bodymind. To thus fully make the most of the time we exist in alive along our timeline. Without the Grim Reaper life would run amok across the Universe in a storm of self-replication, consuming everything in existence, thriving in the most inhospitable places, eventually smothering even the stars to collapse back upon itself until all creation is extinguished. Life so immortal would push all time into meaningless nothingness devoid of purpose and restraint, bereft of limits. Immortality is a monster seducing every living into Hells without end.
Imagine the opposite of a void, of all spacetime packed so densely with living mass, with life unable and indeed unwilling to die, it is as if life becomes the biological singularity and crushes itself … into what? Such a mystery would be beyond death and impervious to any demise. Life without end would be a living nightmare consuming more than Death ever could. For the dead replenishes the nourishment the living seek. Death serves purpose and gives urgency to the living moment, this moment, your moment. Alive.
Besides, who among you truly desires to live for all eternity unable to die even when crushed and buried?
William Dudley Bass
Friday 13 September 2013
Monday 25 August 2025
Thursday 18 September 2025
Revised Friday 19 September 2025
Shoreline/Seattle, Washington
USA
Cascadia
Earth
Sol
In Memoriam of Dharma Buford (14 April 1973 – 10 February 2024), a wild, disciplined Priestess and Sorceress, a master of Pagan ritual who taught me much in regards to Saturn, who illuminated the beauty of death and decay, who reveled in Goth eccentricities, art, and music, who found salvation within the Native American Church, who circled between Washington, California, Idaho, Norway, and Germany, who was Walking Sunshine, a tattooed human soul star garbed in Sacred Darkness, who was kind, compassionate, and as hard as diamonds cutting steel, who turned me on to King Dude and his Werewolf song, who laughed among blooming flowers and flowing mountain streams to die of breast cancer as she transitioned like a Viking into the Afterlife. I salute thee, O Spirit of Dharma!
Copyright © 2025 by William Dudley Bass. All Rights Reserved by the Author & his Descendants until we Humans establish Wise Stewardship over and for our Earth and Solarian Commons. Thank you.