Not with a bang, with a whimper

This is the way the world ends 

Not with a bang but a whimper

This is one of the most striking of all of T.S. Eliot's stanzas. It successfully describes and captures the true spirit of man and the future that this earth will hold. As a prelude to this post I wish to confess that I am a pessimistic, borderline nihilistic, semi-anarchist. I have no faith in human nature or the "good works" that human's claim to create. So, as a result of my pessimistic perspective regarding man, I may be biased in the lines that are about to come forth from this post. If this bothers you at all, please discontinue your journey through the lines and words. But, if you give my rant a chance and, hopefully, critically meditate upon it, I wish to enlighten you with Eliot's simple and beautiful words.

There are two things that I believe we can learn from Eliot's stanza. The first is a simple yet important message, one that regards the impending doom that we are facing. I am no apocalyptic fanatic, but I do believe that our Earth is rotting. It is dying from the inside out. It is struggling and facing the daunting task that is in front of it, surviving the harshest animal that has ever come about: humanity. Eliot's stanza understands and underscores this idea, coming to the realization that this world will end. Not this Earth mind you, for it's time is coming but is not the subject of our dissection, it is the world that is coming to an end. Our world that is nearing its expiration date. There is a distinct difference between the world and the Earth that the world inhabits. Our world is a collection of our beliefs, our identities, our societal and political structures. It is our memories, our hopes, our dreams, our collective efforts towards the "common good". It is a compilation of all that we hold dear and all that we hold in disgust. This world is the world that will end. We cannot keep this illusion, this phantasy, this dream alive. It is dying. When it finally gives out, breathing its final breath, we will hold witness to all of the destruction, all of the evil, all of the actions that we have done in this life. Our humanity will not bring forth life, only death. For how can the dead create life on it's own accord? It cannot. It requires a source that is absent of its grasp and control. It needs something that it cannot provide on its own. This idea brings us to the second and, in my humble opinion, the most important message that we can derive from the stanza of Eliot. We will fall, but we will not fall in a blaze of glory. We will whimper like a dog, a beaten animal that has nothing to hold on to, and nothing to call its own. We are not going to die as conquerors but rather as paupers. We will be force to bare witness to not only our own destruction, but also the true nature of humanness. The true nature of our pitiful existence. This is the horrifying revelation, the enlightenment that we will all face. Some will face it before our collapse, others will not be awaken until they see what is to come. This is how we end, not with a bang but with a whimper. And we will all bear witness to the apocalypse of all that we have cherished, all that we have placed on a pedestal, all that we have claimed to be "important" or "good". We will stare in silence with nothing left to say or do. We will have nothing, and in having nothing we might realize the true nature of life. This wretched temporal existence. We will begin to understand that idea that we should have prioritized from the start. Death is only the beginning of  life. We fear this idea, we attempt to side step it and change the question in an instant. We do anything that we can in order to not face the reality that we all must face. The reality of death. We must embrace. Embrace all that is to come and all that has come. Do not think yourself so mighty as to fight against that which nature intends. Do not believe yourself so wise and "modern" as to bring death in the guise of peace. Destruction in the name of Liberation. Terror in the name of Hope. These constructs, these ideas, these sides that we choose will bring us to ruin. They have already ruined us, almost to the point of no hope. This is not the life we are to lead, a life where we attempt to mold and shape the fates, to be "good", to create "change", to do what the master tells of you. To listen to the temporal good and the wisdom of the fools is to die. It is to die a death that has no honor, no praise, no romantic ending. It is to whimper and cower in the face of the death of all we know. It is, as Eliot puts it so eloquently, the way the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper.