Tuesday, July 16, 2019

RICIMER - TANGLED TIMES

A little boy, aware of his Destiny, sure of his determination to fulfill it …

a youngling lad, far from home so that he can master the knowledge and skills he will need in order to succeed, surrounded always by those from whom and with whom he is taught, yet alone always, alone with the demands of his Destiny …

a young man developing ties which will further his career, ties that will prove vital as the motion of his Destiny carries him ever onward along that path …

a man grown, gathering into his own fists the lines of control, sure of his direction, confident in the strength of those ties and of the lines of authority which carry the strength to his own hands …

a man, solitary, whose supports are one by one by one knocked from beneath him until when finally, in death, he can say the words “We did it” most of the companions, the ‘WE’ to which he refers, have gone on ahead of him into death.


They say we all die alone … but … maybe not.


One man.
One Destiny.

Not to rule but to break forever the power of ‘Comply or Die’.
Not to force his own will, but to force the Peoples of Europe to find, forge, fight for, and follow their Own Will.

One man.
One Destiny.

A continent at his command.
Hear the command of Ricimer:
‘Think or Sink!’
‘Fight or Fall!’
‘If not now, when? If not you, who?’

One man.
One Destiny.

Ricimer opens the maw of the smelter – and some call it hell – whose fire already burns, shoves in the raw ore, works the bellows, and steps away.
‘Think or Sink!’
‘Fight or Fall!’
‘Choose or Lose!’
‘Freedom belongs to you. Where now your Faith? Who cares for your Family but you? Choose wisely your Friends lest they become your foes. You hold in your hands, today, the Future of generations not yet even conceived.’
Such is the message of Ricimer to all of the Peoples he encounters.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He tells the Peoples until his throat is raw, his voice hoarse.
‘You have now, today, the Freedom to Choose,’ he tells them. ‘Find the Will to do so.’
The maw is open.
Now CHOOSE!’ he shouts.
And shoves the Peoples of Europe into the gaping maw of the smelter from which will emerge the Iron Will of the Peoples.

One man.
One Destiny.

A mother weeps for her son, who must do what no other can or will, no matter what.

Ullin of Iona counts, again, the Tears of Anna.

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