>Suppose two men at cards with nothing to wager save their lives. Who has not heard such a tale? A turn of the card. The whole universe for such a player has labored clanking to this moment which will tell if he is to die at that man's hand or that man at his. What more certain validation of a man's worth could there be? This enhancement of the game to its ultimate state admits no argument concerning the notion of fate. The selection of one man over another is a preference absolute and irrevocable and it is a dull man indeed who could reckon so profound a decision without agency or significance either one.
>In such games as have for their stake the annihilation of the defeated the decisions are quite clear. This man holding this particular arrangement of cards in his hand is thereby removed from existence. This is the nature of war, whose stake is at once the game and the authority and justification. Seen so, war is the truest form of divination. It is the testing of one's will and the will of another within that larger will which because it binds them is therefore forced to select. War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god.
What did he mean by this?
>He rode out alone on the desert and sat the horse and he and the horse and the dog looked out across the rolling scrubland and the barren peppercorn hills and the mountains and the flat brush country and running plain beyond where four hundred miles to the east were the wife and child that he would not see again. His shadow grew long before him on the banded wash of sand. He would not follow.
Bravo for getting me to feel sorry for a ruthless killer
>What did he mean by this?
Chance sure is super scary and edgy.
-Chance is everywhere
-War is a part of everywhere
-War is a part of chance
-War is the god of chance because people die in war and aint that a bitch
>He'd long forsworn all weighing of consequence and allowing as he did that men's destinies are given yet he usurped to contain within him all that he would ever be in the world and all that the world would ever be to him and be his charter written in the urstone itself he claimed agency and said so and he'd drive the remorseless sun on to its final endarkenment as if he'd ordered it all ages since, before there were paths anywhere, before there were men or suns to go upon them.
I don't pity him. He made his choice long ago to live and die following his own road and yet in the end he amounted to nothing more than another victim in the Judge's game.
War "admits no argument concerning the notion fate," yet how could it be that the "whole universe labored" to bring a man to his death in war? What is meant by the statement that the selection "is a preference absolute and irrevocable," what preference would war as the ultimate game of chance have for those it selects?
What is it about war, specifically, that allows it to contain within it both its own authority and the justification for that authority?
What is the "larger will" that binds men and how does war force a unity of existence? What does this phrase mean, "unity of existence"?
>In this was expressed the very nature of the witness and that this proximity was no third thing but rather the prime, for what could be said to occur unobserved?
Is this why he will, or rather must, exist forever? Must he be the ultimate witness to the ultimate game?
The judge smiled. The fool was no longer there but another man and this other man he [the kid] could never see in his entirety but he seemed an artisan and a worker in metal. The judge enshadowed him where he crouched at his trade but he was a coldforger who worked with hammer and die, perhaps under some indictment and an exile from men's fires, hammering out like his own conjectural destiny all through the night of his becoming some coinage for a dawn that would not be. It is this false moneyer with his gravers and burins who seeks favor with the judge and he is at contriving from cold slag brute in the crucible a face that will pass, an image that will render this residual specie [the judge, as explained in the previous paragraph] current in the markets where men barter. Of this is the judge judge and the night does not end.
Where did ya learn Dutch?
>That night they rode through a region electric and wild where strange shapes of soft blue fire ran over the metal of the horses' trappings and the wagonwheels rolled in hoops of fire and little shapes of pale blue light came to perch in the ears of the horses and in the beards of the men. All night sheetlightning quaked sourceless to the west beyond the midnight thunder-heads, making a bluish day of the distant desert, the mountains on the sudden skyline stark and black and livid like a land of some other order out there whose true geology was not stone but fear. The thunder moved up from the southwest and lightning lit the desert all about them, blue and barren, great clanging reaches ordered out of the absolute night like some demon kingdom summoned up or changeling land that come the day
The answer to every single question you asked is chance, except one
>What is it about war specifically
It's dramatic. This is rhetoric, not philosophy.
>War admits no argument concerning fate
It doesn't need to make an argument concerning fate, it doesnt need to make an argument period. It is how it is, chance.
>whole universe labored...
Chance (also known as fate) brings man to his death in war.
>preference absolute and irrevocable..
Again you cant argue with war, chance, fate, etc, they are vague abstractions that he is prettying up dramatically.
Chance, whatever chance decides is the preference. There is no reason (or argument), because its fucking chance
>larger will that binds men..
>how does war force a unity of existence
everyone is equal in chance
>unity of existence
a pattern among things that exist besides merely existing
If that's true then this whole speech is retarded. You can take any sentence in that monologue and then just add at the end "except Elord".
>The whole universe for such a player has labored clanking to this moment which will tell if he is to die at that man's hand or that man at his,