"Do you know the tragedy of humanity?
They are unable to see themselves. They require a reflector to validate their existence and their image. They come to know and understand themselves through mediums like images. Thus, image and the mediums of reflection become significant to them.
They live for the image.
They survive based on the image.
They die for the image.
They kill for the image.
They construct spaces for the image.
They surrender for the image.
They emancipate for the image.
They are uncertain about themselves.
They are plagued by self-doubt.
They continually seek validation through images.
So, Mr Kant, you need to be corrected. Reason does not create morality. This tragedy, this self-doubt, and this reliance on a reflective medium or agency shape character. This pursuit of self-reflection through images gives birth to aesthetics, not your judgments."
As God gulped down his sixth peg of rum, he shouted at Immanuel Kant. Kant sat in a corner surrounded by empty bottles, each labelled with their capacity to intoxicate, representing different liquors and qualities yet capable of intoxicating generations.
Karl Marx, who was drinking vodka from Gulag, remained silent.
These days, he found happiness as his oligarchic communist politburos had transformed into corporate agencies competing to exploit human labour for capitalist consumers. His Gulag supply was no longer considered immoral.
It had gained capitalist approval.
Capitalism determined morality and sold fairness cream alongside tanning cream to democratize aesthetics. They capitalized on the Communist Manifesto through post-modernism and its theoretical reasoning for the "death of authour."
Kant and Marx shared their drinks.
I bore the weight of God on my shoulders, a deceased postmodern author.
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