22 Sep But no, at the end they are nothing but cackling hens (WILHELM REICH)
Do you know, Little Man, how an eagle would feel if he were hatching chickens’ eggs? At first the eagle thinks that he will hatch little eagles whom he is going to bring up to be big eagles. But what comes out of the eggs is always nothing but little chicks. Desperately, the eagle keeps hoping that the chicks will turn into eagles after all. But no, at the end they are nothing but cackling hens. When the eagle found out this, he had a hard time suppressing his impulse to eat up all the chicks and cackling hens. What kept him from doing so was a small hope. The hope, namely, that among the many cackling chicks there might be, one day, a little eagle capable of growing up into a big eagle, capable like himself, to look from his lofty perch into the far distance, in order to detect new worlds, new thoughts and new forms of living. It was only this small hope that kept the sad, lonely eagle from eating up all the cackling chicks and hens. They did not see that they were being hatched by an eagle. They did not see that they lived on a high, steep rock, far above the damp, dark valleys. They did not look into the distance like the lonely eagle. They only gobbled and gobbled and gobbled whatever the eagle brought home to them. They let him warm them under his powerful wings when it rained and stormed outside, when he withstood the storm without any protection. Or, if things got tougher, they threw sharp little rocks at him from ambush, in order to hit and hurt him.
When he realized this maliciousness his first impulse was to tear them to shreds. But he thought about it and began to pity them. Sometime, he hoped, there would be, there would have to be, among the many cackling, gobbling and shortsighted chickens, a little eagle capable of becoming like himself.
The lonely eagle, to this day, has not given up this hope. And so he continues to hatch little chickens. You do not want to become an eagle, Little Man, and that is why you get eaten by the vultures.
You are afraid of the eagles, and so you live together in great herds, and are being eaten up in big herds. For some of your chickens have hatched the eggs of vultures. And the vultures have become your Fuhrers against the eagles, the eagles who wanted to lead you into farther, better distances. The vulture taught you to eat carrion and to be content with just a few grains of wheat. In addition, they taught you to yell, ‘Hail, Hail, Great Vulture!’ Now you starve and die, in great masses, and you still are afraid of the eagles who hatch your chickens.
All these things, Little Man, you have built on sand: your house, your life, your culture and civilization, your science and technique, your love and your education of children.
Listen, Little Man!