Well in real life I was asked by two people gently, to post an article about Godot, and Waiting for Godot, and link it with today´s discussion about end of the world prophecies.
Some have dismissed this play by asserting it´s pointless and that it´s absurdism betrays a sense of absolute pointlessness.
The truth is far deeper, and truly sinister - this play, in my opinion, explains the nature and meaning of reality as it is.
It´s about a few people who are stuck in a self - created hell somewhere and they keep sinking deeper and deeper into it, and all of them are waiting for a mysterious entity which goes by the name of Godot.
Godot is described to each of them, but it´s like listening to blind people who are asked to describe an elephant they have been asked to touch.
They all talk about different parts and compartments of Godot´s life, and Godot´s supposed existence, but there is obviously no evidence that this mysterious Godot exists.
All this reminds me about the AC wishful thinking, and about the end of the world predictions.
If I believed in Ashtar, and I did once, I would have no need for such a person to take me away from my present belongings and just put me somewhere for the fun of it.
Reality doesn´t work that way.
Reality works somewhat completely differently - in the play, the number 1 stupid mistake the people in the mud did was not attempting to escape their self - created hell - instead they were always waiting for this Godot.
The main characters are termed Pozzo and Lucky, and there is a third character who keeps informing them about ´the impending arrival of Godot´and this character´s name is Estragon.
Estragon had difficulties communicating with the other two characters - and in the end they were still contemplating over whether or not they should commit suicide.
But no Godot arrived, just like today, no Ashtar Command arrived.
What is so sad about this play is that they never contemplated on trying to crawl out of the pile of shit they had created with their lives and just move on and let go of it.
Here they were, having been told by Estrogen that this Godot would arrive, but Estrogen knew the truth - that there really was no Godot.
That those men had to be their own men to survive and stop waiting and hoping all the time for some imagined cavalry to rescue them or some fantasized attacker to hit them from behind.
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