The natural rhythm of human life is routine punctuated by orgies.
Every gain made by individuals or society is almost instantly taken for granted.
What’s the point of truth or beauty or knowledge when anthrax bombs are popping all around you?
The leech's kiss, the squid's embrace, The prurient ape's defiling touch: And do you like the human race? No, not much.
An irrelevance, and your life's altered.
Good is a product of the ethical and spiritual artistry of individuals; it cannot be mass-produced.