It is 2021, and while I have a hundred strong opinions, I would rather drink vinegar and bleach than share them.
Shish kabob your opinion and watch it sizzle and spit as it slowly cooks over the fire range of reality and public drama. Perhaps there, in the charring colors of red and yellow and orange, it will find a way to be edible.
I have quite given up hope of being transformed into a public orator, and in this I am quite glad. For we have no Areopagus, nor would we want one. We want only to hear the sound of our own voice and swim in its divine knowledge. We are our own gods, and what we think we are, we are as much.
The rest of knowledge can burn.
No matter if it were given 4000 years to be tried and tested through centuries of angry men who raised their own flags and called themselves gods too. They too died and they too rot beneath the earth.
But. We are far better than they because we say so. Our flags are 10 times as large and our voices 10 times as strong. Our guillotine is 10 times as sharp too. We sharpen it with a rock of seething fury and malicious ignorance.
These so called gods ravaged and raged and ran wildly into their own theatrical drama, only to find it was short lived and not well attended. Certainly, God did not think much of them.
Are you too much of a fool to think you are writing a history that has not already been written 10 times over, and blackened darker than the ink it is written with? Will you listen to the raised voices of angry men who pillage words that only will suit them, while digging a grave for truth?
The rest of knowledge can burn.
But truth. Yes, truth.
Truth would resurrect itself from any inferno, any noose, any concentration camp and any guillotine. Truth will find you in your grave and before God. Truth will stand with the gavel and the record book and will ask you why you pretend to be ignorant. You will be a stammering fool then. For your opinion would have been better washed down with vinegar and bleach or cooked so long as to be unrecognizable.