Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity. (W. B. Yeats 1933)
We tend to see ourselves as individual beings defined in space and fixed though time, though we accept, per Yeats, that we are “…fastened to a dying animal.” Post-moderns, more skeptically, see each other as bodily collections of [li]abilities and desires.
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.” (Yeats 1920)
But either modern or post, when at our innocent best, we acknowledge, often tolerate and even accept that we each have unique abilities and desires. Though, sadly, when passionate our worst often gets the upper hand.
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere (Yeats 1920)
But none of our innocence or passion matters, compared to falconers’ greed, they from their eryies through their sharp-sighted yet blind falcon-drones “Turning and turning in the widening gyre” don’t see us as anything but parts. We earthbound humans are worth less to them whole than for parts. Our desires are but glints of gold in limitless field. This “Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,” is seen only as an opportunity for enrichment.
If you don’t believe me, google a desire, on your i-phone, an “…artifice of eternity” for sure, then tap amazon, and let it “Consume [your] heart away” Now wait for the shadows of the drones on high to darken your screen and your life.