Plato is famous for his story about the cave. According to the story, man lives in a cave, strings are attatched to his head, forcing him to stare into the end of the cave wall. Behind him is a small wall of earth. Behind the wall of earth people walk forward an backwards with sticks, attatched to the sticks are strange figures. Behind the people, a bonfire is alight. But behind the bonfire, there is a long shaft leading up to the above. Out here the philosophers roam. Plato commands the philosopher to dive into the cave bringing light and truth to man in the cave.
There is a falsehood in the eqaution, let me try to explain. I am under the curse of the duckpond. In the duckpond, right now, the waters are black, there is no transperency. Beneath the black surface of the water, lurks strange and sick creatures. They are punctured with metalrods through there whitely frame. They live on lies and deceit. If you blow light into the darkened water, they scurry and hide beneath the rocks. But they will bite. Every once in a while they surface their disfigured faced and try to bite the white swan of the philosopher.
Paddling around on the surface of the water, vile ducks promenade, lies are in their wake, evil in their foul breath. Some of the ducks know glimpses of truth, and they peddle these truths as merchants at the market. Other ducks try to hide the truth, corrupting it the best they can. Some ducks are paddling around foolblinded by ignorance.
The foul creaters that lurk in the dark, represent many of the men tied to the cavewall. The ducks are the persons carrying the sticks of strange figure. They are the leading persons of society claiming to represent truth, but they only light faint lightbulbs of truth with uncertain sources of parentage.
In the swirling waters of the duckpond, attacked from all sides, the swan swim. It is agile, courageous, and as reflected by its white colours, it tries to penetrate the minds of the ducks and the waters of the duckpond. The foul monsters lurks, and attacks from beneath, and the ducks paddle around trying to ignore the swan.
The ducks have names like; the duck of dust, the duck of angelbreath. But the most hideous of all ducks is named the duck of the silken line. This duck sits on a small throne of corruption, lies and immoral behaviour reeks from the abomination. He is the duck that befriends islamists and spews halfdisclosed fountains of antisemitism. He is the worst fiend of man, the cloud to shroud the light.
The swan is not alone. Beside him, valiant nights of light protects him and lend their hand to justice, some of them even fly the banner of beauty. These nights in shining armour are called Lionheart, Holger Danske and David. They are brothers in arms.
And this is the mistake of Plato. The light will not enter the cave or clear the water without war. The foul ducks of the pond, the vicious creatures of the darkened water will attack and kill if they can. As they killed Theo van Gogh and Pim Fortuyn. They will strangle any imposer to the dark throne of multicultural deceit. And they will do anything in their power to kill the swan of the pond. Therefor, dear Plato, forget about the peaceful walk into the cave, talking blows from the cave dwellers. Blows have to be enchanged with blows, warriors of light has to band together and enter the cave. Only in this way will the enlightentment of Europe and its inheritors be put full ablaze again.
