PANIC

                                                                 "The revolution for its sacrifices affirms superstition."         Charles Baudelaire

"Given the fact that human beings tend irremediably to create systems of thought to alienate themselves, and frequently admire their world view more than the world itself"--opines Ronald McDonald--"I see nothing wrong with a system of nurturance that keeps everyone happy and occupied.
     --Then consciousness shouldn't exist at all--I sleeplessly reply as I wait for my coffee.
     --That's just a detail--he says and crossing his legs gestures in his favorite pose.  As I've told Rousseau, Plato, and Descartes, a conceptualization is always more important than what's experimental.  Furthermore, if through the means of some mechanism the species were preserved, which is what all ethics attempt, including Marxism, I see no reason for offense.
     I am suddenly possessed by the spirit of Satan, who boils the coffee held between my hands and with my mouth I answer.
     "Maybe what Mr. McDonald has forgotten is that mechanization of human activity doesn't override the existence of Reason which can replace itself with its own infirmities.  Whether or not sufficient technology exists and with the perfectionism of unconscious mechanisms solely can speed the mass suicide of humanity."
     And as he's speaking, a line of miniature Tupamaros march forth from my cup of coffee.
     --Nor is it necessary--he goes on saying--if it requires weaponry our system of control is completely secured and moreover very persuasive.  The actual problems of violence will simply pass.
   But out of my coffee streams a tiny army:  Mambisean warriors carrying machetes, Cimarrons with silver hats, and Guaramies in force, dispersed across the table like an anthill.
     --About rationality, I believe it can be aided through genetic modification we've made speedy advance in that field, you know?
     Now I see coming forth in arms the Aimaraes, Jutus, Yawas, horses, eagles, and tigers gathering in a legion near my cup.
     --And if you don't admire mass suicide what do you propose for a change? Would you prefer it be one at a time?
     The miniature army continues flowing from my cup:  Mandingo, Ambudu, Kombe.  Finally, a complete Mujahadin force of warriors.  Then the demon replies, "not suicide but Homicide!"
     Ronald attentively observes the cup, that far from flame continues boiling, and reaches his yellow glove toward me.
     --Oh, sorry, I didn't know I had the honor.
     --I watch him without an appetite and unable to speak think of my extreme fatigue with just a cup of coffee in my hands.