Paul Doesn’t Die.

All Fathers Give Me Strength.

The Dwarf :
You understand, Boy?
You're about to take the full force of A Star.
It'll KILL You.


Only if I Die.

The Dwarf :
Well… Yes.... That's what 

"Killing You", means.

When Paul get killed, 

he doesn't die because... 

The Messiah is all The Humanity, 

can get enlightened. 

In The End, His Mind is 

the mind of every person. 

He's a Plural Being :

“I am The Others.”

“The Others are Me.”

And then, if the whole humanity get enlightened... The Earth changed. 

The Planet of Sand... start to grow plant, animals, be like a paradise. 

Dune is a Messiah of The Planets 

because is a planet with Consciousness. 

With the same consciousness of Paul. 

And The Planet go to The Universe... to illuminate the other planets. 

I changed The End of The Book, evidently! 

In the book, it's a continuation. 

The Planet never changed. 

Is not awake, with a Cosmic Consciousness. 

It's not a Messiah, The Planet. 

I did that. It's different. 

It was My Dune. 

When you make a picture, 

you must not respect The Novel. 

It's like you get married, no? 

You go with the wife, white, 

the woman is white... 

you take the woman, 

if you respect the woman, 

you will never have Child. 

You need to open The Costume and to... To rape The Bride. 

And then you will have Your Picture. 

I was raping Frank Herbert, raping, like this! 

But with Love, with Love. 

And then I came with that. 

It was such a beautiful object. 

So well done and at the time, 

there were no photocopies. 

It was just photos of each drawing. In color... so well done... with so much detail about the costumes, 

about the techniques used. 

Every studio have 

one book like this. 

Every studio. 

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Universal, 

everything, all them... 

Michel Seydoux give a book like that. 

This approach was chosen precisely because... 

I was thinking they might have a certain distrust of Jodorowsky. 

But since we were showing the camera angles, 

since we explained each scene... 

the way we wanted to film it... 

they should have been relieved. 

But They weren't. 

It wasn't enough. 

In Los Angeles, I wasn't optimistic. 

The thing is that sometimes The French and The Americans... 

have difficult relationships, you know. Well, we have had. 

We were almost at the finish line,

 but we had to find the last $5 million. 

The film cost $15 million. 

Well, we estimated it as $15... 

We had been invited to Walt Disney studios by the chairman of the board. 

He looked through the project and said: 

"This is a wonderful project...

but it is like The Concorde. 

It's an exceptional plane, but over here, never!" 

And there I said to myself 

that we were going to face a lot of problems. 

They always received us in a very friendly way... 

but it was always the same answer. 

When we would give them The Book, they were very impressed. 

They had never seen anything like it. 

Each time, they would tell us, 

"It's superb. It's very well-constructed.

You've solved the technical problems of those special effects. 

It's economically reasonable. 

But we don't get 

Your Director." 

Hollywood did not visualize science fiction that way. 

It was in 2001: A Space Odyssey, or in small B movies. 

But a huge movie, that would cost millions of dollars with all the effects. 

They did not conceive of that. 

Maybe it was a bit long as well. 

Maybe the film was a bit too long. 

They asked me to make a picture one hour and a half, for the theaters. 

And myself, 

"No, why the time?

I will make a picture of 12 hours! 

Or 2O hours!” 

The totally outrageous side of Jodorowsky, 

especially after The Holy Mountain and El Topo

did not give them faith that he could lead this very ambitious project. 

Because $15 million in the middle of the '70s was a lot of money. 

And that was Their Answer, 

even though they found everything else to be perfect. 

Everything was Great, 

except The Director. 

You have to be like A Poet. 

Your Movie must be just as 

You Think of It and just as You Want It. 

Do not take comments to change this or that 

from this person or the other. No! 

The Movie has to be just 

Like I Dream It. 

The Picture need to be exactly as I am dreaming the picture. Is a dream. Don't change my dream. This system make of us slaves. Without dignity. Without depth. With a devil in our pocket. This incredible money are in the pocket. This money. This shit. This nothing. This paper who have nothing inside. Movies have heart. Have mind. Have power. Have ambition. I wanted to do something like that. Why not? Very disappointed. Very disappointed because we all believed in it. I believed in it. Now, this is my take on it... but I think he didn't feel like... doing something else after such a project... which was the project of his life, I believe. That's my feeling. 

I think that the humiliation that Alejandro Jodorowsky suffered, in not having been chosen, in having been eliminated for being too original, being too surrealistic…

that is a permanent injury. 

I think that Jodorowsky 

carries that in his heart for life. 

I was convinced that it would be something Great. 

But then Dino De Laurentiis' daughter came along 

and took the project away from us... 

and gave it to David Lynch. 

And when I heard that 

David Lynch will direct that... 

I have a pain because 

I admire David Lynch. He can do it! 

He is the only one in this moment who can do it and he will do it! 

I suffer because was My Dream. 

Another person will do that... 

maybe better than me. 

And then when the picture, they will show the picture here... 

I say I will not go to see that 

because I will die. 

And My Sons say, 

"No, We are Warriors. 

You need to come and to see that." 

And then they take me, like an ill person 

I came to the theater. Even I think I will cry. 

And I start to see the picture...

and step by step, 

step by step, 

step by step... 

I became happy because 

the picture was awful! 

Is a failure! 

Well, it's a human reaction, no? 

Is not beautiful, 

but I have that reaction. 

I say, "Is not possible. Is not David Lynch because he is a big artist." 

Is The Producer who did that. 

“I've never seen the movie 

and I never will.”

From this supposed failure, 

come a lot of creation. 

In The Life, thing come, you say "YES." 

Thing go away, you say "YES." 

We don't do Dune? “YES!”

That is, “YES, We Don't Do it!”

And then so what? And then so what? Dune is in the world like a dream, but dreams change the world also. 

Dune was…. Dune is Like Paul —

It’s Throat was Cut,

But it Didn’t DIE.

I think it was a guide. A guide for some. In any case, I am convinced that our storyboard... made the rounds in the halls of Hollywood. I can't imagine that isn't the case. It pleases me to imagine that. You always have to see the positive. Giger. He make the monster of Alien. Why he make the monster of Alien? Because Dan O'Bannon. O'Bannon create Alien. They take Moebius, they take Giger, Foss. And Hollywood start to use my group. Was very fantastic. And then Moebius say to me, 

"What you will do? You will die?" 

No, I will not die. For me to fail is only to change the way. If we don't do that... the Dune we was doing is... The roots are the Dune of Herbert. But this Dune is us. Is the optical. Is a creation. And then, I will use everything I put in Dune to make comics. I say to Moebius, "Why we don't do a comic?" And I start to dictate The Inca/. A lot of images that are in here are in here. And then I find an Argentine, a Spanish, Juan Gimenez. And there I make all the spaceship I design for Dune are in The Metabarons. Even the Duke Leto. I made him castrated by a bull... and we find the sorcerer who will take a drop of his blood... in order to make the child. I did it here, is here, like I was shooting! I did it. I start with Dune, but I go farther, no? Farther. I continue and I did it, my work. I think Dune will be fantastic if somebody take this script... even if I am not alive... and do a picture in animation. 

Now is possible. I can die, 

They can do My Picture. 

I have 84 years, but I am still creating. I am not [ groaning Old Man-noises ]

All my life I create, and is more and more and more.

 The Mind is like A Universe. 

It's constantly expanding. 

Like The Universe, exactly like The Universe, open the mind. The opening of the mind is every day, is open. 

That was this picture. 

Open the mind of all the persons who worked there. From the producer to the artists. From the workers, for every one was an opening of the mind, this work. 

Was ambitious, but not too. 

Was ambitious. 

Myself, I have the ambition 

to live 300 years. 

I will not live 300 years. 

Maybe I will live one year more. 

But I have the ambition. 

Why you will not have Ambition? Why? 

Have The Greatest Ambition Possible. 

You want to be Immortal? 

Fight to be Immortal. Do it. 

You want to make the most fantastic art of movie? Try. 

If you fail, is not important. 

We need to Try. 

Dreams are Messages 

from The Deep. 

My Planet Arrakis is so beautiful when The Sun is low. 

Rolling over The Sands, 

you can see Spice in The Air. 

At nightfall, 

the Spice harvesters land. 

The Outsiders race against time 

to avoid The Heat of The Day. 

They ravage Our Lands in front of Our Eyes. 

Their Cruelty to My People 

is all I've known. 

These Outsiders, The Harkonnens, came long before I was born. 

By controlling the Spice Production they became obscenely rich. 

Richer than The Emperor himself. 

Our Warriors couldn't free Arrakis 

from The Harkonnens, but one day, 

by Imperial Decree, They were gone. 

Why did The Emperor 

choose This Path? 

And who will Our Next 

Oppressors be? 

The Duke Paul

The Duke Paul

of House Atreides of Caledan

ATREIDES!

ATREIDES!

ATREIDES!

ATREIDES!

ATREIDES!

 

"In MY Version, The Duke Leto... he is a castrato --- castrated. 

[ from Bull-Fighting, having been gored by The Beast of The Labyrinth of The King Minos. ] ​

And Then -- 

HOW He Will Do, A Son?

And Then, His Wife...

a MARVELOUS Woman, 

a WISE Woman... 

and The Guy have A Love, A Cosmic Love when He see This Woman. 

And how He will make A Child? 

And she take a drop of His Blood... 

and She CHANGE The Blood into Semen... 

and then we see The Drop of Blood going inside The Vagina, The Uterus... 

and we will follow The Blood... 

The Blood coming and go inside The Ovum and explodes there. 

She get pregnant with 

A Drop of Blood. 

That's What I Did. 

What will have if You are NOT The Son of a Sexual Pleasure, but of A SPIRITUAL Pleasure? 

And from This Spiritual Love, 

He Will create PAUL. 

Paul was A Young Boy... 

but is not 

A NORMAL Boy. 

Was A Mutant. 

With A Big Soul and Strength. 

Where I will find That Boy....? 

My Son. 

El Topo : 

"Today You are 7 Years Old -- 

Now You are A Man  : 

Bury Your First Toy 

and Your Mother's Picture." 

I work with him in El Topo, 

now he have 12 year old. 

I say, "You Will make Paul, 

but You need to prepare as A Warrior." 

 

Brontis Jodorowsky :

"So he said one day, we're going to make Dune, and you're going to play The Part of Paul, and....

You're Going to Have to Prepare."

I prepare My Son, to do The Role exactly as The Duke Leto prepare His Son. 

 

Brontis Jodorowsky :

So here, he is going to have to learn Karate, and make acrobatics, and....

Your Mind has to develop, a LOT --

You know, he wanted me to 

BE The Character.

 

I find A Teacher for Him. 

I have A Very STRONG person... 

Jean-Pierre Vignau. 

Jean-Pierre : 

"When We started, He was 12. 

There I trained Him in Karate, Karate Jujitsu, Japanese style. 

That's all the fist-foot techniques, joint locks, floor pins, standing pins,  

a combination of Karate, Judo, Aikido and Atemi-Jitsu."

He learn How to Fight with : 

His Hands; with Knife; 

with Swords -- 

He learn ALL that. 

And he was READY to do Paul 

as A Real "Paul." 

Jean-Pierre :

"I trained Brontis six hours a day, seven days a week for two years. "

 

Brontis Jodorowsky :

 That was PAINFUL, 

and Jean-Pierre, he has No Mercy. 

No, really -- we worked to get ahead, no mercy.

And all the person say to me, 

"But What You Did?

But WHY You are Trying 

to Change The Mind of [A] Child and to make 

A Superior Person?" 

I say, "No, I was only awakening The Creativity." 

I open His Mind. 

That's What I Was Doing. 

I don't know if I change His Life..... 

NOW, I am Thinking, 

"Why I DID That? Sacrifice My Son." 

But in that time, I say, "If I Need to Cut My Arms [off] in order to make That Picture, I Will Cut My Arms -- I Will DO It.”

I was believing that to make A Picture, who will Give A Mutation to The Young Minds... was Sacred. 

You NEED to Sacrifice Yourself. 

I was even ready to die doing that.

“ Gerard Way, the lead singer of the band My Chemical Romance, was a very different kind of entertainer, a New Jersey art-punk rocker who’d been an intern at Vertigo back in the days of The Invisibles and a fan of my Doom Patrol run, although we’d never crossed paths.

In mid-2006, with Final Crisis on my mind, I caught the video for his band’s song “Welcome to the Black Parade,” a searing slice of punk psychedelia I was primed to like anyway. What really made me sit up were the outfits the band was wearing.

 

  Dressed in black-and-white marching band uniforms as they led a procession of sexy walking dead through a bombed-out city, My Chemical Romance looked like a glamorous postmortem Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. They had fused the images of two opposites — the tough soldier and the frail emo kid — to create an image of what was to come. Nor was the sound morbid or dark; it was triumphal, chiming, imperial rock. The new psychedelia would learn to make friends with Darkness. It would come from the Goth and alternative frontiers of the last twenty years into the mainstream, laughing at cancer as it put a beat to the Dance of the Dead and began to have fun again, however dark that fun might seem to grown-ups.

 

  That fall, I listened to The Black Parade over and over and over again, to inspire cosmic mortuary scenes for Final Crisis and Batman’s mental breakdown. MCR had shown me a picture of the new superhero, posttraumatic, postwar, the hero with nothing left to believe in. The supersoldier was home from the front, jumping every time a car backfired, staring at his hands.

 

  Neil Gaiman put me in touch with Gerard, and we met in Glasgow before a gig, forming an instant connection. He led a new young generation of musicians who had grown up with superhero comics and had no qualms about saying so. He walked the walk too, with Umbrella Academy, his own award-winning re-creation of the superhero formula with artist Gabriel Ba. It was a kaleidoscopic tour de force. There was no shaky start, no cramming of balloons with words (a common tyro error), and none of the familiar missteps that dogged so many other celebrity-fan forays into the comics biz. Umbrella Academy was the end result of years of reading and thinking about superheroes and science fiction: Funny, scary, cerebral, arty, and violent all at the same time, it harvested all the fruits of Gerard’s own “iconography tree.” The heroes of Umbrella Academy were a group of outsider kids who grew up to be the world’s greatest superheroes. It was the story of his band. It was my story too. It was a premonition of where we were all headed.

 

  These days, it’s no longer enough to be a star or even a superstar. Today even the most slender and ephemeral talents are routinely described as “legends.” There’s no need to slay ten-story sea beasts, endure complex and life-threatening quests or epic military campaigns: Simply release a couple of dodgy records or do some stand-up, and you too will be elevated to the ranks of the mythical King Arthur, heroic Lemminkainen, or mighty Odysseus. You too will become legend.

 

  With our superlatives and honorifics devalued so that star, legend, and genius will suffice as descriptors for any old cod with half a good idea he stole from someone else, what lies next on the upward trajectory of human self-regard from star to superstar to legend?  

 

Once upon a time, a star was an individual of exceptional sporting, musical, or acting talent. 

 

Then it became every child who could grip a crayon and scrawl a daisy for Mother’s Day. 

 

When we all became stars, stars became superstars to keep things straight, but they were swimming against the tide. In a time of Facebook and Twitter, where everyone has a fan page, when the concept of “genius” has been extended to include anyone who can produce a half-competent piece of art or writing, where is there left to go but all the way? 

 

We may as well crown ourselves kings of creation. Why not become superheroes? Supergods, in fact. Isn’t it what we’ve always known we’d have to do in the end? Nobody was ever going to come from the sky to save us. No Justice League; Just Us League.

 

  Back in 1940, Ma Hunkel, the Red Tornado, was the first attempt to depict a “real-life” superhero in comics. Not a spaceman from Krypton, not a billionaire playboy with a grudge, Ma had no powers except for her formidable washerwoman build. She wore a homemade costume to dish out local justice in the stairwells and alleyways of the Lower East Side in some aboriginal memory of the early DC universe.

 

  She was joined by characters like Wildcat, the Black Canary, the Mighty Atom, the Sandman, and other tough but good-hearted vigilante crime fighters who took to the mean streets in nothing but their underwear. They had no special powers, just fists, and an attitude — at best, a gun that shot darts or gas or bees.

 

  Seventy years after Ma Hunkel, sixteen-year-old Dave Lizewski, the hero of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.’s Kick-Ass, asked the question “WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT TO BE PARIS HILTON BUT NOBODY WANTS TO BE A SUPERHERO?” Leaving aside the cynical response that nobody in their right minds wanted to be Paris Hilton, Dave’s question had already been answered by a handful of brave souls, real people in the real world who dress up in capes and masks to patrol the streets and keep people safe. You can read all about them online if you type “real world superheroes” into a search engine. They even have their own registry, like Civil War veterans who fought on Iron Man’s side.

 

  The TV and film hopefuls, the half-baked actors, are easy to spot. But to the others, fierce behind homemade masks and hoods and helmets, the superhero’s calling is as important as religion, or at least as important as the youth cult demographic you conformed to at school. They are The Future.

 

Nine Inch Nails

I seen through junkies, 

I been through it all

I seen Religion 
from Jesus to Paul
Don't let them fool you 
with Dope and Cocaine
No one can harm you,
 feel Your Own Pain

Worf: 

I prefer Klingon Beliefs.

Kira: 
I suppose Your Gods 
aren’t as cryptic as Ours.

Worf: 

Our Gods are Dead —

Ancient Klingon Warriors slew them a millennium ago. 

They were More Trouble than They were Worth.

No Man or Woman can be too Powerful or too Beautiful without Disaster befalling.

They laugh when you rise too high and crush everything you've built with a whim.

What Glory They give, in The End, They take away.

They make of us Slaves.

Truth is in Our Hearts, 

and none will tell you this but Your Father.

Men hate The Gods.

The only reason we worship any of them is because we fear worse.

What's worse?

The Titans.

If they were ever to be set free, it would be Darkness such as we have never seen before.

Could They ever come back?

Can Zeus imprison The Titans forever under Mount Olympus?

It's said that when Zeus burned them to dust with his lightning bolt they took the Titans' ashes and, in a cold revenge, mixed it with those of Mortal Men.

Why?

Who Knows These Things?

One day, Things will Change.

Men will Change.

But first, The Gods must Change.

But all this you'll forget, Alexander.

That's why we call them Myths.

We can't bear to remember them.

“God is Dead,” said Nietzsche. 

“God remains dead. And we have killed him. 

How shall we, murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? 

That which was the holiest and mightiest of all that The World has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives. 

Who will wipe this blood off us?”

The central dogmas of the Western faith were no longer credible, according to Nietzsche, given what the Western mind now considered Truth. 

But it was his second attack — on the removal of the true moral burden of Christianity during the development of the Church — that was most devastating. 

The hammer-wielding philosopher mounted an assault on an early-established and then highly influential line of Christian thinking: that Christianity meant accepting the proposition that Christ’s sacrifice, and only that sacrifice, had redeemed humanity. 

This did not mean, absolutely, that a Christian who believed that Christ died on the cross for the salvation of mankind was thereby freed from any and all personal moral obligation. 

But it did strongly imply that the primary responsibility for redemption had already been borne by The Saviour, and that nothing too important to do remained for all-too-fallen human individuals. 

Nietzsche believed that Paul, and later the Protestants following Luther, had removed moral responsibility from Christ’s followers. They had watered down the idea of the imitation of Christ. 

This imitation was The Sacred Duty of The Believer not to adhere (or merely to mouth) a set of statements about abstract belief but instead to actually manifest The Spirit of The Saviour in the particular, specific conditions of his or her life — to realize or incarnate the archetype, as Jung had it; to clothe the eternal pattern in flesh. 

Nietzsche writes, 

“The Christians have never practiced the actions Jesus prescribed them; and the impudent garrulous talk about the ‘justification by faith’ and its supreme and sole significance is only the consequence of the Church’s lack of courage and will to profess the works Jesus demanded.”

Nietzsche was, indeed, a critic without parallel. Dogmatic belief in the central axioms of Christianity (that Christ’s crucifixion redeemed the world; that salvation was reserved for the hereafter; that salvation could not be achieved through works) had three mutually reinforcing consequences: First, devaluation of the significance of earthly life, as only the hereafter mattered. This also meant that it had become acceptable to overlook and shirk responsibility for the suffering that existed in the here-and-now; Second, passive acceptance of the status quo, because salvation could not be earned in any case through effort in this life (a consequence that Marx also derided, with his proposition that religion was the opiate of the masses); and, finally, third, the right of the believer to reject any real moral burden (outside of the stated belief in salvation through Christ), because the Son of God had already done all the important work. It was for such reasons that Dostoevsky, who was a great influence on Nietzsche, also criticized institutional Christianity (although he arguably managed it in a more ambiguous but also more sophisticated manner). 

In his masterwork, The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky has his atheist superman, Ivan, tell a little story, “The Grand Inquisitor.”

A brief review is in order. 

Ivan speaks to his brother Alyosha — whose pursuits as a monastic novitiate he holds in contempt — of Christ returning to Earth at the time of The Spanish Inquisition. 

The returning Savior makes quite a ruckus, as would be expected. He Heals The Sick. He Raises The Dead. 

His antics soon attract attention from The Grand Inquisitor himself, who promptly has Christ arrested and thrown into a prison cell. 

Later, the Inquisitor pays Him a visit. 

He informs Christ that he is no longer needed. His return is simply too great a threat to the Church. The Inquisitor tells Christ that the burden He laid on mankind—the burden of existence in Faith and Truth — was simply too great for mere mortals to bear. The Inquisitor claims that the Church, in its mercy, diluted that Message, lifting the demand for Perfect Being from the shoulders of its followers, providing them instead with the simple and merciful escapes of Faith and the afterlife. 

That work took centuries, says the Inquisitor, and the last thing the Church needs after all that effort is the return of the Man who insisted that people bear all the weight in the first place. 

Christ listens in silence. 

Then, as the Inquisitor turns to leave, Christ embraces him, and kisses him on the lips. 

The Inquisitor turns white, in shock. 

Then he goes out, leaving the cell door open. 

The profundity of this story and the greatness of spirit necessary to produce it can hardly be exaggerated. Dostoevsky, one of the great literary geniuses of all time, confronted the most serious existential problems in all his great writings, and he did so courageously, headlong, and heedless of the consequences. 

Clearly Christian, he nonetheless adamantly refuses to make a straw man of his rationalist and atheistic opponents. Quite the contrary: In The Brothers Karamazov, for example, Dostoevsky’s atheist, Ivan, argues against the presuppositions of Christianity with unsurpassable clarity and passion. Alyosha, aligned with the Church by temperament and decision, cannot undermine a single one of his brother’s arguments (although his faith remains unshakeable). Dostoevsky knew and admitted that Christianity had been defeated by the rational faculty—by the intellect, even—but (and this is of primary importance) he did not hide from that fact. He didn’t attempt through denial or deceit or even satire to weaken the position that opposed what he believed to be most true and valuable. He instead placed action above words, and addressed the problem successfully. 

By the novel’s end, Dostoevsky has the great embodied moral goodness of Alyosha—the novitiate’s courageous imitation of Christ—attain victory over the spectacular but ultimately nihilistic critical intelligence of Ivan. The Christian church described by the Grand Inquisitor is the same church pilloried by Nietzsche. Childish, sanctimonious, patriarchal, servant of the state, that church is everything rotten still objected to by modern critics of Christianity. Nietzsche, for all his brilliance, allows himself anger, but does not perhaps sufficiently temper it with judgement. This is where Dostoevsky truly transcends Nietzsche, in my estimation—where Dostoevsky’s great literature transcends Nietzsche’s mere philosophy. The Russian writer’s Inquisitor is the genuine article, in every sense. 

He is an opportunistic, cynical, manipulative and cruel interrogator, willing to persecute heretics—even to torture and kill them. He is the purveyor of a dogma he knows to be false. But Dostoevsky has Christ, the archetypal perfect man, kiss him anyway. Equally importantly, in the aftermath of the kiss, the Grand Inquisitor leaves the door ajar so Christ can escape his pending execution. Dostoevsky saw that the great, corrupt edifice of Christianity still managed to make room for the spirit of its Founder. That’s the gratitude of a wise and profound soul for the enduring wisdom of the West, despite its faults. It’s not as if Nietzsche was unwilling to give the faith—and, more particularly, Catholicism—its due. 

Nietzsche believed that the long tradition of “unfreedom” characterizing dogmatic Christianity—its insistence that everything be explained within the confines of a single, coherent metaphysical theory—was a necessary precondition for the emergence of the disciplined but free modern mind. As he stated in Beyond Good and Evil: The long bondage of the spirit … the persistent spiritual will to interpret everything that happened according to a Christian scheme, and in every occurrence to rediscover and justify the Christian God in every accident:—all this violence, arbitrariness, severity, dreadfulness, and execution. Dostoevsky saw that the great, corrupt unreasonableness, has proved itself the disciplinary means whereby the European spirit has attained its strength, its remorseless curiosity and subtle mobility; granted also that much irrecoverable strength and spirit had to be stifled, suffocated and spoiled in the process.

For Nietzsche and Dostoevsky alike, freedom — even the ability to act — requires constraint. For this reason, they both recognized the vital necessity of The Dogma of The Church. 

The Individual must be constrained, moulded — even brought close to destruction—by a restrictive, coherent disciplinary structure, before he or she can act freely and competently. 

Dostoevsky, with his great generosity of spirit, granted to The Church, corrupt as it might be, a certain element of mercy, a certain pragmatism. He admitted that The Spirit of Christ, The World-Engendering Logos, had historically and might still find its resting place — even its Sovereignty — within that dogmatic structure. 

If a Father disciplines his son properly, he obviously interferes with His Freedom, particularly in the here-and-now, He put limits on the voluntary expression of His Son’s Being,  forcing him to take his place as a socialized member of The World. 

Such a father requires that all that childish potential be funneled down a singly pathway. In placing such limitations on his son, he might be considered a destructive force, acting as he does to replace the miraculous plurality of childhood with a single narrow actuality. But if the father does not take such action, he merely lets his son remain Peter Pan, the eternal Boy, King of the Lost Boys, Ruler of the non-existent Neverland. That is not a morally acceptable alternative. 

The Dogma of The Church was undermined by The Spirit of Truth strongly developed by The Church itself.

I am Captain Benjamin Sisko

Commence station log, 
Deep Space Nine, 
Commander Benjamin Sisko, 
Stardate 46388.2. 

At the request of the Bajoran Provisional Government, 

Starfleet has agreed to establish 

a Federation presence in this system

following the withdrawal of

Cardassian occupational forces. 

Bajor Monastery

OPAKA: 

Your arrival has been greatly anticipated. 

(She caresses his left ear.) 

OPAKA: 

Have you ever explored your pagh, Commander? 

SISKO: 
Pagh? 

OPAKA: 

A Bajoran draws courage from his spiritual life. 

Our life-force, our pagh, 

is replenished by The Prophets. 

(She squeezes the lobe.) 

OPAKA: 

Breathe. 

SISKO: 

Kai Opaka, if we could discuss -

OPAKA: 
Breathe! 
Ironic. One who does not 

wish to be among us - 
is to be The Emissary. 
Please, come with me. 

(She touches a control and the pool reveals itself to be a hologram hiding a staircase downwards)

[Secret cavern]

OPAKA: 

You are correct that Bajor is in grave jeopardy, 

but it is the threat to our spiritual life that far outweighs any other. 

SISKO: 

Perhaps, but I'm powerless until...

OPAKA: 

Commander. 

I cannot give you what you deny yourself. 

SISKO: 

I'm sorry? 

OPAKA: 

Look for solutions from within, Commander. 

Nine Orbs, like this one, 

have appeared in the skies 

over the past ten thousand years. 

The Cardassians took the others. 

You must find The Celestial Temple 

before they do. 

SISKO: 

The Celestial Temple? 

OPAKA: 

Tradition says the orbs were sent 

by The Prophets to teach us.

 

What we have learned has 

shaped our Theology.

 

The Cardassians will do anything 

to decipher their powers. 

If They discover the Celestial Temple, 

They could destroy it. 

SISKO: 

What makes you think I can find your “Temple”? 

(Opaka hands him the Orb box.) 

OPAKA: 

This will help you. 

SISKO: 

Kai Opaka -

OPAKA: 
I can't unite my people till I know 

The Prophets have been warned. 

You will find The Temple. 
Not for Bajor,
Not for The Federation,
But for your own pagh. 

It is, quite simply, Commander, 

The Journey You Have Always Been Destined to Take.