Alexander Dugin

ESCAPE


Reality is organised in this way: There is a circle of the manifested, the cosmic, the given, the structured. This is the circle of "This World". Its centre is ordered to the maximum, whilst the order is minimum in the periphery. The circle of This World has its own strict logic, its own laws and fixed organisation. It is not always understood by all. But as you move closer to its center, its pole the general logic grows clearer and clearer. In the centre the power resides. Not only the political power, but anything total the power of the physical material laws, the historic tendencies, the fatal vectors prescribed by the flesh of this world. The name used by Christians for the absolute bearer of this power is the "Prince of This World", or princeps hujus mundi in Latin. As a rule, it is identified as the devil.

This World may also be named the System. The circle of the system. The left extremists often equated it to "fascism" or Auschwitz. This World projects its power on all levels inherent in the constitution of the beings that happen to be involved therein. Whether we come into the world as human beings, animals, insects, plants or things, we inevitably find ourselves under the yoke of the System's total power. It establishes morality, identifies the standards, sets up the laws, determines what and how you should do, where and how you should live, when and how you should die. This World has its own geography, its own integrity, its own logic, and its own fate. It wants to appear as the only one and compulsory for all. It desires to pass off its system as the only possible one, its principles as the universal directives, with no alternatives available. This World is also called the "Old World", its law the "Old Law", and its inhabitants the "Old Creatures". The "Old Prince" is in the centre. The reality is circulating between the System's center and the periphery. When moving away from the centre the reality falls to fragments, loses its ordered structure, suffers, disintegrates, becomes distorted, decays, grows poor, degrades, loses its might, force, power, prosperity and fortune. When approaching the centre the reality grows ordered, reinforced, normal, it comes to participate in the power of the Old Prince and obtains might. This movement under the influence of the two forces centrifugal and centripetal is the only substance of the "Old Existence", the "being within the System". The System itself is forever changing, though its essential property remains intact.

The alleged uniqueness, lack of alternative, inevitability of the ontological Auschwitz are all lies. There is or there may be another circle. It is the "New World", "New Heaven and New Earth", "New Life" of Dante, "New Adam", "New Existence", "New Order". Where and how can we find it?

Anywhere but within the System. It lacks a point to serve as a passage to the New Existence. It just could not have such a point. However, there are two limits that verge on the absence of the System. And this is close to what we are after. The first limit is the centre. It has no illusory dimension. The power possesses a magic gift, it places a creature one foot on the shaky ground of the beyond. That is why the power is so breath-taking. The System's absolute centre displays its fictitious nature, the falsity of its alleged uniqueness. The master comes into direct contact with the Prince of This World, knows its breath, and the sinister odor of its presence. Getting in touch with this black mystery opens up the paradoxical opportunity of taking a look over the Usurper's shoulder. Another light is shining there. The mystery of the regal power is one of the most profound and terrifying mysteries.

The second limit is the utmost periphery. The substance of existence becomes thin as a transparent membrane. The disintegrated fragments subsist independently. The bodies, feelings, thoughts, ideas and objects turn into a sieve. Microbes grow into giants, dimensions shrink like a shriveled peel. The heaven rolls up and finds room in the palm. Strange as it may seem, he who steps over the ultimate boundary will meet the same creature as the Supreme Master will. The same dark silhouette, the same "lullaby" awkward gestures, the same black on black shoulders, waxen hands, with one foot slightly dragging. And the brilliance of the "New Light" again. From behind his back.

Jump.

Something you can neither remember nor describe.

You are on the periphery of a different world. Among the fragments, separate crystals of a mosaic to be put together, within the inferior class, without any status or rights so far, grieved and horrified by what has happened. Who are you? Where are you? You can remember nothing. What has happened to you? Name...? Something is running through your mind and away. This light blinds you; you need darkness.

What new feelings...?

What is it burning in the shoulder-blade?


Translation: New Resistance
Proof-reading: Troy Southgate


ARCTOGAIA