We stand at a critical juncture in human history, where the decisions we make today will determine whether humanity continues to exist—or falls to the inevitability of its own hubris. Nuclear annihilation, environmental collapse, and societal breakdown are not looming threats but present realities. These crises are the culmination of centuries of systems and values built not for human flourishing but for domination, consumption, and despair.

This is a time for boldness, for a willingness to rethink everything we know about society, community, and the human spirit. To erase the blackboard entirely, to reject what has failed us, and to imagine a new way of living, is no longer a utopian dream—it is a necessity for survival.

Yet a profound question lingers at the heart of this vision: Is humanity worth saving? If we say yes, then we must believe we are capable of creating something better than what we have now—something built on the principles of balance, connection, and purpose, rather than fear, greed, and exploitation.

In seeking a way forward, we must first look back. History is often framed as a series of conflicts and conquests, but it also offers us glimpses of harmony—moments when humanity thrived in balance with itself and the natural world. These were not perfect times, but they show us what is possible when human ingenuity, compassion, and cooperation align.

The classical period of Ancient Greece gave us democracy, philosophy, and art. In city-states like Athens, individuals questioned the nature of existence, justice, and human purpose. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle sought to understand the deeper truths of life, while the people built small, self-sufficient communities where governance was participatory, and civic engagement was valued.

Yet Greece also reminds us of the dangers of hubris and the cost of abandoning balance for empire. It is both an inspiration and a cautionary tale, showing that a golden age cannot endure without humility and restraint.

Long before the industrial age, indigenous societies across the Americas, Africa, and Asia demonstrated profound ways of living in harmony with the natural world. The Haudenosaunee Confederacy created a model of governance that emphasized collective decision-making, long-term planning, and respect for the land. The Maya and other Mesoamerican civilizations practiced sustainable agriculture, using methods like crop rotation and agroforestry to maintain the health of the soil.

These societies teach us that prosperity does not require the exploitation of nature. Their practices were grounded in an understanding of interdependence—between people, the land, and future generations.

In medieval Europe, the rise of guilds transformed society, creating communities centered around craftsmanship, quality, and mutual care. Blacksmiths, carpenters, weavers, and masons organized themselves into guilds that provided training, upheld ethical standards, and ensured fair treatment of workers.

These guilds were more than economic units—they were social institutions that fostered trust and collaboration. They replaced the drudgery of survival with the dignity of skilled work, offering meaning and purpose to people’s lives. Towns flourished as centers of creativity and productivity, with guilds at their heart.

This model of interdependence and pride in one’s craft holds lessons for us today. If humanity is to rebuild itself, we must return to these principles, creating communities where work is meaningful, ethical, and integral to the common good.

If the past offers us lessons of balance, the present shows us the consequences of its absence. Modern industrial society has turned the planet into a resource to be exploited, with little regard for the long-term consequences.

Industrial agriculture strips the land of nutrients, poisons water supplies, and destroys ecosystems. Monoculture farming eradicates biodiversity, while deforestation accelerates climate change. Entire oceans are being overfished to the brink of collapse. Fossil fuels power this relentless consumption, driving us ever closer to environmental catastrophe.

Humanity’s relationship with the Earth has become one of conquest rather than partnership. This exploitation mirrors the dehumanization of life itself, where people are treated as resources to be extracted, their labor and creativity reduced to numbers on a spreadsheet.

We must end this cycle of exploitation. The future demands a return to sustainable practices—regenerative agriculture, local food systems, and the stewardship of natural resources. Communities must grow their own food, tend their own animals, and rebuild ecosystems rather than destroy them.

This is not just about survival—it is about restoring a sense of sacredness to the land and recognizing that humanity is a part of nature, not its master.

The vision of a better future begins with localized communities and the revival of guilds as the heart of economic and social life. These guilds offer an alternative to the alienation of modern labor, replacing meaningless jobs with work rooted in creativity, collaboration, and purpose.

1. Guilds of Agriculture: Communities grow their own food using techniques that replenish the soil and respect biodiversity. These guilds ensure that no one goes hungry and that the land is cared for.
2. Guilds of Craftsmanship: Blacksmiths, carpenters, tailors, and artisans create and repair the tools, clothing, and homes that communities need. Mass production gives way to quality and durability.
3. Guilds of Learning: Education becomes a lifelong pursuit, focused on passing down knowledge, skills, and wisdom through apprenticeships and collaboration.
4. Guilds of Healthcare: Medicine returns to the community, emphasizing prevention, care, and accessibility for all.

Through these guilds, communities become self-sufficient, resilient, and creative. Work becomes meaningful again, a source of pride and connection rather than exploitation.

If humanity is to thrive, we must dismantle the two most destructive forces of modern life: the financial and military systems.

Modern finance thrives on inequality, reducing people to commodities and communities to markets. It rewards greed, punishes generosity, and perpetuates cycles of debt and despair. A future worth living in cannot be built on this foundation.

Instead, communities should adopt systems of mutual credit, where contributions to the common good are valued over hoarded wealth. Cooperation must replace competition, and the economy must serve humanity—not the other way around.

The military-industrial complex thrives on division and fear, consuming vast resources to perpetuate endless wars. These systems do not protect humanity; they endanger it.

Imagine a world where resources currently spent on weapons are redirected toward education, healthcare, and innovation. Conflicts are resolved through dialogue, not violence. Without militarization, the voices of division fall silent, and humanity has space to heal.

This brings us back to the fundamental question: Is humanity worth saving? The cynic points to our history of violence, greed, and exploitation. But history also shows us our capacity for resilience, creativity, and compassion.

The systems we live under today—systems of fear, greed, and domination—are not inevitable. They were created by specific people in specific times and can be dismantled. The human heart, unburdened by these systems, is capable of extraordinary things.

At the core of this vision is an awakening—the rediscovery of what it means to live with purpose, connection, and dignity. In this new world:

• Companionship replaces isolation. Communities are built on trust, collaboration, and shared purpose.
• Quality replaces quantity. People create with care, valuing what they make and the connections they forge.
• Purpose replaces profit. Life is no longer defined by accumulation but by contribution to the common good.

This is not a utopian dream. It is a call to action, grounded in the understanding that the systems we now accept are unsustainable and dehumanizing. To erase the blackboard and start anew is not an act of despair but of hope—a belief that humanity is capable of more.

The choice is ours. We can continue on our current path, or we can embrace the possibility of renewal. By building communities rooted in connection, sustainability, and purpose, we can create a future where humanity thrives—not through domination, but through harmony.

Throughout human history, belief systems have offered frameworks to understand the mysteries of existence, the nature of the divine, and the moral structures by which humanity should live. From the quiet wisdom of Lao Tzu to the cosmic balance of Zoroastrianism, from the spiritual defiance of the Cathars to the militaristic ritualism of Mithraism, these philosophies and religions have shaped human behavior in profound ways. Yet, when contrasted with the strident, divisive interpretations of evangelical Christianity promoted by figures like Cyrus Scofield, a stark divide emerges: one between beliefs that promote harmony and self-discovery and those that exploit anger, strife, and envy.

At the heart of Taoism lies the Tao, often translated as “the Way.” Lao Tzu’s philosophy emphasizes living in harmony with the natural order of the universe. It is a belief system that avoids rigid dogma, focusing instead on balance, simplicity, and humility. Lao Tzu writes in the Tao Te Ching:

“The best rulers are barely known by their subjects. The next best are loved and praised. The next are feared. The worst are despised.”

Here, Lao Tzu presents a leadership philosophy that contrasts sharply with the coercion and control central to many modern systems of governance and religion. The Taoist approach is one of quiet guidance, allowing individuals to find their own path rather than imposing external rules or ideologies.

Taoism teaches that humanity thrives when it aligns itself with the rhythms of nature. It rejects the need for domination, whether over others or over the natural world, and warns against the destructive forces of ambition, greed, and envy. In contrast, the modern Western mindset often glorifies these very traits, fueling cycles of exploitation and conflict.

Zoroastrianism, one of the world’s oldest monotheistic religions, introduced the dualistic concept of good and evil as cosmic forces. Central to Zoroastrian belief is the idea of asha(truth and order) and druj (falsehood and chaos). Followers are encouraged to align themselves with asha through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds.

Zoroastrianism sees humanity as active participants in the struggle between these forces. Unlike philosophies that call for passive acceptance, Zoroastrianism emphasizes personal responsibility in the pursuit of a just and harmonious world. Its teachings stress kindness, humility, and a reverence for the natural world, much like Taoism.

When juxtaposed with modern evangelical Christianity as interpreted through Scofield’s lens, a stark contrast appears. While Zoroastrianism encourages the pursuit of balance and truth, Scofield’s version of Christianity often weaponizes fear, framing life as a battle against enemies—whether ideological, religious, or personal. Rather than promoting personal responsibility for harmony, it fosters division through its emphasis on apocalyptic judgment and exclusivity.

Mithraism, a mystery religion practiced in the Roman Empire, offered a sense of camaraderie and spiritual connection through its ritualistic devotion to Mithras, a deity associated with the sun and cosmic order. Its initiates engaged in elaborate ceremonies that symbolized moral transformation and commitment to a virtuous life.

Mithraism’s emphasis on discipline and loyalty resonated with soldiers and other Roman elites. While it lacked the universal, harmonious vision of Taoism or Zoroastrianism, it nonetheless offered a sense of order and purpose. However, its rigid hierarchy and secretive nature ultimately limited its reach and adaptability.

In this, we see an interesting parallel to Scofield’s evangelical Christianity, which also relies heavily on rituals of belonging and exclusivity. Yet, where Mithraism aimed at inner transformation and spiritual discipline, Scofield’s Christianity often channels loyalty toward external battles—against secularism, against differing faiths, and even against fellow Christians who deviate from its prescribed interpretations.

Catharism, a medieval Christian movement rooted in southern France, rejected the materialism and corruption of the Roman Catholic Church. The Cathars viewed the material world as inherently flawed, a creation of a false god, and sought purity through simplicity and spiritual practice. They emphasized equality, nonviolence, and personal enlightenment, often rejecting hierarchical structures entirely.

The Cathars’ beliefs made them a target for brutal suppression during the Albigensian Crusade, where the church declared their teachings heretical. The Cathar ethos of rejecting power and material wealth stands in sharp contrast to the prosperity gospel of Scofield’s Christianity, which often equates material success with divine favor. Where Catharism sought to free individuals from worldly attachments, Scofield’s framework ties faith to the acquisition of wealth and dominance over perceived adversaries.

The Scofield Reference Bible, published in 1909, revolutionized evangelical Christianity in America. Funded in part by Zionist interests, it introduced a framework of dispensationalism that interpreted history and the Bible through a lens of divine wrath, apocalyptic inevitability, and unwavering support for political Zionism.

Scofield’s theology transforms Christianity into a militarized belief system, one that thrives on conflict and division. It reimagines Christ not as the teacher of love and compassion found in the Gospels, but as a figure presiding over an apocalyptic battle. Key features of this worldview include:

1. The Embrace of Fear and Anger: Scofield’s framework emphasizes humanity’s fallen nature and the inevitability of divine judgment. This creates a faith rooted in fear, where salvation is contingent upon strict adherence to dogma.
2. The Weaponization of Envy and Division: Scofield’s theology pits believers against non-believers, Christians against other Christians, and humanity against itself. By framing the world as a battleground, it fosters tribalism and enmity rather than unity.
3. The Glorification of Power and Wealth: In stark contrast to the teachings of Christ, Scofield’s Christianity often equates material success with divine favor. This prosperity gospel undermines the core message of humility, compassion, and service.
4. The Justification of Violence: By aligning itself with political and military agendas, Scofield’s Christianity abandons the pacifism of early Christian teachings. It turns the message of peace into a rallying cry for conflict, particularly in its unconditional support for Israel and its apocalyptic vision of Armageddon.

When placed side by side, the difference between philosophies like Taoism, Zoroastrianism, Mithraism, and Catharism, and Scofield’s evangelical Christianity, is striking. The former emphasize balance, self-discovery, and the pursuit of harmony. They teach that humanity’s purpose is to align itself with universal truths, to live in humility, and to nurture relationships with others and the natural world.

Scofield’s version of Christianity, by contrast, thrives on discord. It redirects spiritual energy toward external battles, feeding cycles of fear, envy, and domination. Its theology serves not to elevate humanity but to justify systems of exploitation and power.

To move beyond the destructive patterns fostered by strife-based ideologies, humanity must rediscover the principles of harmony embedded in Taoism, Zoroastrianism, and similar belief systems. These philosophies remind us that:

• Balance is essential. Humanity thrives when it aligns itself with the rhythms of nature and the universe.
• Compassion is transformative. True strength lies in kindness, not domination.
• Material wealth is fleeting. Spiritual fulfillment comes from simplicity and purpose, not accumulation.

In rejecting the divisive and destructive frameworks of modern evangelical Christianity, we open the door to a world where humanity’s spiritual energy is directed toward healing, connection, and growth. This is not a call to abandon faith but to reimagine it—rooting it in love, harmony, and the recognition that we are all part of a greater whole.

The choice is ours: to continue down the path of strife and fear, or to embrace a future built on balance, humility, and mutual care. Let us choose wisely.

Human history is marked by a troubling paradox: the capacity for great compassion and creativity on the one hand, and an apparent willingness to embrace tyranny and destruction on the other. This duality raises profound questions about humanity’s future. Can we rise above the forces that have kept us locked in cycles of fear, envy, and destruction? Are these traits intrinsic to human nature, or are they the result of systems and ideologies deliberately designed to subjugate the human spirit?

At the heart of this inquiry lies an uncomfortable truth: humanity has been systematically conditioned to not only accept tyranny but to crave it. The propaganda of submission—the deliberate shaping of thought to glorify power, vilify difference, and suppress dissent—is perhaps the most insidious weapon of control ever devised. To imagine a better world, we must first confront this reality and understand the mechanisms that keep humanity tethered to its worst impulses.

Tyranny does not sustain itself through brute force alone. It survives by convincing people to believe in it, to fear alternatives, and to internalize its values. Across history, the most successful tyrannies have been those that learned how to manipulate the human mind, turning fear into loyalty and oppression into identity.

Propaganda thrives on fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the other. Fear of change. Tyrannies amplify these fears, presenting themselves as the only solution to chaos and danger. Governments, media, and institutions create enemies—real or imagined—to justify control, surveillance, and violence. They tell us that without them, society would collapse, that freedom would lead to anarchy, that equality would bring mediocrity.

The genius of this propaganda lies in its ability to frame the oppressor as the protector. The more frightened people become, the more they cling to those who promise safety, even at the cost of their own freedom.

Tyranny also exploits human envy, fostering division to keep people from uniting against their oppressors. Class, race, religion, gender, and ideology are all used as tools to pit groups against one another. Envy becomes a weapon, turning neighbors into rivals, friends into enemies, and communities into battlegrounds.

When people are consumed by envy and division, they become easy to control. Tyrannies encourage us to focus on the perceived advantages of others rather than the systemic inequalities that harm us all. This prevents collective action and ensures that power remains concentrated in the hands of the few.

Propaganda glorifies the very systems that oppress us. It romanticizes the military-industrial complex as a symbol of strength and patriotism. It portrays billionaires as visionary heroes rather than exploiters. It celebrates competition as the engine of progress, even as it leaves millions behind.

From childhood, we are taught to admire power, wealth, and domination. These values are reinforced by schools, media, and culture, shaping our aspirations and identities. The result is a society where people not only tolerate tyranny but aspire to join it.

These forces—fear, envy, and the glorification of power—create a cycle that perpetuates tyranny. Fear breeds submission, envy divides, and the worship of power prevents change. Together, they form the foundation of a world built on destruction, where progress is measured in exploitation and success in domination.

But is this cycle inevitable? Are these traits intrinsic to humanity, or are they the product of specific systems and conditions?

The idea that humanity cannot rise above its flaws is itself a form of propaganda—a narrative designed to justify the status quo. If people believe they are inherently selfish, violent, and incapable of change, they will accept the systems that exploit these traits as inevitable. But history tells a different story.

Human behavior is shaped not just by biology but by environment and systems. Tyranny thrives because the systems we live under reward selfishness, aggression, and fear. These systems are not natural; they were created by specific people for specific purposes. They can be dismantled.

When systems change, people change. Consider the transformation of societies that transitioned from autocracy to democracy, from segregation to integration, from war economies to peace economies. These changes were not easy or immediate, but they demonstrate that human behavior is malleable.

At its core, humanity is capable of extraordinary growth. We have seen individuals and communities rise above fear, envy, and destruction to create art, science, and social movements that inspire and endure. The abolition of slavery, the expansion of civil rights, the development of humanitarian organizations—all of these achievements were driven by people who refused to accept the inevitability of tyranny.

This potential for growth suggests that humanity is not doomed to repeat its mistakes. But to realize this potential, we must create systems that nurture the best in us rather than the worst.

The question, then, is whether a new world can be designed in such a way that it prevents the rise of tyranny and encourages the flourishing of human potential. What would such a world look like?

The first step is dismantling the systems that perpetuate fear and control. This means ending the propaganda machines that manipulate public thought, whether through media empires, political institutions, or corporate monopolies. Transparency, accountability, and education must replace censorship, secrecy, and manipulation.

Education, in particular, is key. A society that values critical thinking and empathy is far less susceptible to fear-mongering and division. By teaching people to question authority, recognize propaganda, and value diversity, we can create a culture of resilience and curiosity.

Instead of systems that reward competition and exploitation, we must build systems that incentivize cooperation and care. Communities based on guilds, mutual aid, and shared resources offer a model for this transformation. These systems encourage people to work together, solve problems collectively, and prioritize the well-being of the group over individual gain.

A new world must also address the root causes of fear: insecurity, inequality, and isolation. When people have access to basic needs—food, shelter, healthcare, education—they are less likely to succumb to fear. When they feel connected to their communities and valued for their contributions, they are less likely to embrace envy or division.

This is not about creating a utopia but about removing the barriers that prevent people from living with dignity and purpose. It is about giving humanity the opportunity to thrive, not through domination but through connection.

At its core, this vision is rooted in the belief that humanity is worth saving. The systems that have failed us are not a reflection of human nature; they are a reflection of choices made by those in power. If those systems are dismantled, if new structures are built that nurture cooperation and compassion, humanity can rise above its flaws.

This is not an easy path. It requires courage, imagination, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. But it is a path worth pursuing because it offers the possibility of a future where humanity lives in harmony with itself and the Earth.

The cycles of destruction, envy, and fear can be broken. The propaganda of submission can be unlearned. The love of tyranny can be replaced with a love of connection and purpose. But this requires us to believe in humanity’s potential—to reject the narratives that tell us we are unworthy of redemption.

Look around you. Do you see a world you would have chosen? If not, then it is time to create something better. It is time to rise above. It is time to awaken the human heart and build a future worth saving.

Let us choose to save humanity—not as it is, but as it can be. Let us build a future worth saving.

https://www.theinteldrop.org/2024/12/01/an-intel-drop-the-awakening-humanity-at-the-crossroads/

YOURDEMOCRACY.NET RECORDS HISTORY AS IT SHOULD BE — NOT AS THE WESTERN MEDIA WRONGLY REPORTS IT.

         Gus Leonisky

         POLITICAL CARTOONIST SINCE 1951.