But Jerusalem was won, the old dream. One who interprets dreams is listened to by the king. To him belongs the power over the country and the people. Jerusalem liberata.115 Conquers finally, after the times of the Crusades. The goal of the Christians of the West. And was not America’s war in Europe a returning Crusade for freedom, back to the promised land of their ancestry, of the eternal, after 2000 years, realizing the old culture, of the dreams with the Apocalypse as its price and a Last Judgment, loss of all that hitherto existed and acquisition of another life, that has arrived in this way.
“Europe’s heart beats in Israel.” At the edge of the continent, in the dream of western art of a divine justice, the soul quite naked, the social relations dissolved, free for art, to carry it all round the world, of world-congresses and symposiums, Europe as a province, an enclave between the new and the old promised lands of the Atlantic. The USA-Israel axis. Finally peace, mastering the elements, everybody is warm, sated, everyone is free, one can go anywhere, at any time. The joyful Apocalypse for all, as a multimedia show of the liberated.
The border-restricting narrowness of nations has been dissolved like a curse of history and all roots as a burden for one who flies into space, the cosmos, the future. Germany finally awakened from the deep sleep of the nightmare of its need for identity into the arbitrary guilt-consciousness of its being. The furor of its disappearance becomes the triumph of the redemption into nothingness. For 2000 years this art wept, for 2000 years this art of Christianity dreamed of the eternal Jerusalem. For 2000 years in close proximity to the Old Testament, they have lived close to each other for 2000 years, the followers of the Old Testament and those of the allegiance to the New, mistrusted each other for 2000 years, separating themselves, envying, battling, persecuting each other and it is often asked who whom, changing with imitating identities, interwoven through suffering, at each other’s throat and heart and now the Other has, in the heart of Europe, fulfilled its dream, Jerusalem, the eternal, conquers and gifts us, with the help of America and unconscious sacrifice, assigning guilt to the dull dreamer in the center so that the Other may win? The world-spirit rides through us all on the firmly delineated track of our path. Thus, we have won and lost at the same time. In ourselves, and the price is the victory, and the victory is the price. Entangled in each other are loss and gain in each of us, and ever more internalized the burden and the happiness. Woe to whomever may not lament, woe to whomever forgets joy, the highest part of art. It cannot be gifted, it must be experienced and borne within us. The books will speak of it or else poetry will be extinguished. The pictures will be only in this way, or in vain. The tones full of tears, or laughter; we determine if it was worth it, and is and will be, or everything is in vain.
Entangled in each other as they share with each other like brothers; in the case of the prohibition of images, the one makes the pictures and the other then sells them. And, in the case of the vow of poverty, one makes business and the other history. And when he makes it with war, he takes revenge on the cowardly, on the other, and the other on him, on account of the blood-thirstiness of war. Everything interlocked into a contract, the one for the other, the pictures, the guilt, the suffering, the victory, the losses, symbiosis and gain, the businesses or poetry, power domination or spiritual pleasure.
The lost victory in us, now a hell of the damned, winners becoming losers, the losers turning themselves into a victory, secretly, conversations of the dead, on the drifting ice of self-profit in us. But who then wished for art again, divided again into mutually battling parts, races, nations, religions or peoples? Art, which carries out and bears what it has made out of this world, the way it leaves nothing behind, us, purified, refined, pressed, held high above or low, failing and surviving?
For one who has dreams has also art. And how does it look now, in the happiness of the social businesses of our republics?
The new inhabitants of Israel hounded by the Erinyes116 of their guilt, which does not appear in their mythology, and abandoned by their old kings?
The Jewish world-interpretation follows the Christian, as earlier the Christian the Roman and Greek culture. Now therefore those analyses, pictures, determinations in art, science, sociology, literature, politics, the information media, as up to this emancipation of Christianity. Marx and Freud as cornerstones mark out the way from East to West. Both are unthinkable without Judaism. Their systems are determined by it. USA-Israel guarantee the outer limits. And people feel, think, judge, act and inform in this way. We live in the Jewish epoch of European cultural history, which we have so accepted as to await, at the peak of technological power, in an apocalyptic manner, our Last Judgment. Of the Christian god. Does it seem so then choked in the technological welfare as never before, for all, without spirit and sense?
One should know that the often enumerated and by now well-collected intellectual merits, and the gladly named characteristics of their science and their cultural accomplishments and art — from Berlin of the ’20s to New York today, and from Karl Marx, who enticed men into the unchristian following of the secularized utopias of materialism, to Freud and his 20th century Socratic version of “Know thyself,” and to the revenge of the atom-bomb — awaken natural resistances, as power always provokes a resistance, whose suppression through a bonus for suffering must lead to a clutch of problems with which nobody can be compliant who means well with the condition of culture, who wishes for more than the power advantages of aesthetics and a global tradition from Einstein to Kafka. For one who bears the burden of the world in its worst condition takes over the responsibility and invites fury on himself so much the more if the bonus for suffering means unforgiving pressure of memory, where all of the growing future is manipulated, as if jammed into a new ideology, as for the final persecution of oneself. So much the more when everybody everywhere bows down, unless there were to come out of it a myth, and ritual and form, in the shape of a new god. But then one would like to call out in a professedly and voluntarily godless age: “Best of luck and do well.” Call out as one perspective in the many-sided dispute of the worlds and ages, one version of a scenario of global education against so many others.