human world were perfect. The Almighty Deity, the FirstCause, the Absolute One certainly has no cause fordiscontent.Would not Perfect Bliss on this planet constitute death? Mustnot Pain slightly outrun Pleasure just to keep us going? Ithink the self-conscious human mind provided for theintelligent organization of our lives is a sort of Trojan horseor Pandora's chest, don't you? All sorts of ills are released forour evolutionary good, and we are, regrettably, heldresponsible for them. Not only are we conscious of pain andpleasure, we are conscious of the individual self and itsinevitable extinction on this plane of existence. The self-conscious mind is, in a sense, the reflection of a disease atthe radical root of our civilized discontent - we have Reason,to be ashamed of our natural selves. Therefore Psyche,goddess of the arts, presides over mental illness.Man has long wondered at the enthusiasm or god-possessionof talented thinkers and artists. We rightfully fear theirintuitions and effusions, for art is fundamentallyrevolutionary. One might say that art is an effort to tame thewildness evoking it, to master the overflowing power - todance - to sing - to ponder - to fly. And sometimes art fliestoo far beyond its basis in the community. Not only doovertly active men and women overdo themselves, but menand women of symbolic action often think too much for theirown damn good - they might ascend to exhilarating butpainfully alienated heights, then pine away in mentalhospitals, or join criminals and saints on scaffolds or indungeons, or perhaps starve in garrets and gutters.Moreover, from the lucid perspective at the metaphysicalsummit above the dirty details, some great authors,authorities in their own right, blinded by the highestauthority, have lept to doom instead of faith. I think weunderstandably hide our faces from the Sun lest we realizetoo soon the scorching brunt of the absolute truth aboutourselves.