It is a paradox of intelligence that the primary thing that could give humans the ability to survive in a world where things die gave them the understanding that they die, and hurt them greatly. How could they possibly deal with such a world, where something lives for a time and then rots away? They tried to think of ways in which it was not true: scenarios that would make the appearance of becoming a corpse merely apparent, using the imagination to invent ways to become immortal. Perhaps the best people at coming up with ways to use the imagination to invent ideas that gave immortality gained a degree of power in this situation.

It is strange that humans did not think so much that the intellect that allowed them to understand things and invent tools would guide them in a direction toward some kind of physical immortality. Perhaps, they looked around themselves and saw nothing but things that either were inanimate, or which would one day become inanimate, and thus were content to put themselves at the whims of their imaginations, which could see a world where things were not this way.

Perhaps, the fact that the imagination could see a world where there was no death caused them to believe that all was imagination, even death itself and the entire murderous Earth that seemed to swallow things. Fear of death was surely something that could be overcome by eliminating the distinction between the imaginary and the real, no? They must have discussed it vigorously everywhere they lived.

Being the weakness that it was, fear of death surely allowed anyone with the imagination to propose a solution to death to organize people around said solution and give order to their social group. Taking away the sting of the fear of death was the reward for doing what was expected of them, and being made to be afraid was the punishment for angering those with power. It became easy to manipulate people for those with the imagination and the intelligence to do so, because all one had to do was make others more or less afraid of death, and more or less afraid of suffering. The priest was the one who held the power; even the head of the social group, the one that dominated everyone else, needed the blessing and support of the priest in order to keep their power.

Thus was established a dual relationship, where the priest takes care of spiritual things to make people happy or fearful through their belief, and then the chief of the social group who with the blessing of the priest commands people in order to maintain their power. Social life became more ordered, with threats to order being held in check through deities as well as raw power. The priest and the chief both had the role of inspiring devotion, and they created systems for the imagination to help people determine their roles in society.

The artist must have had the particular role of using their talents in service of the priest and chief, creating works of art which would provide a sense of shared culture and through which various things could be remembered, various myths propagated, and various people venerated. Artistic achievements are some of the highest feats capable by the human mind, and so the talent for engaging in art must have emerged slowly. However their talents came to be, they are highly esteemed in the best and most successful societies, and so the artist, the priest, and the chief are like a triumvirate for a small social group, one that is responsible for the creation and preservation of a culture.

Two primary forces work in the psyche and are the domain of this triumvirate: sex and death, or as Freud would have it, eros and thanatos. The priest made rituals that involved these two forces and conducted them, presiding over birth and death through various means, controlling sexual behavior, and dispensing rules, advice, and morals that were to be adhered to, while the chief was in charge of the raw manpower that upheld and defended the society.

Until recently, our religion in the West has focused very much on thanatos, with little to say about eros, other than controlling it and prohibiting its expression except under specific circumstances. The fertility cult--where the priest celebrates and presides over sexual activity--has been seen as something evil, even though it is a celebration of life. Recently, there have been various attempts made to revive this type of cult, but it has not exactly met a warm reception. Usually, eros belonged to the artist, whose "decadence" was taken for granted by the populace. Can anyone think of a person less inclined toward sexual modesty than the artist? Even in the prudish culture of Christianity, by the Renaissance, paintings of nude people became normal.

So this triumvirate, that of priest, chief, and artist, is the focus of eros and thanatos, and when the triumvirate breaks down or becomes antagonistic, the result is the corruption of human society. Are we perhaps seeing the dawn of a new type of human, however, one who has the features of all three parts of the triumvirate? It is interesting that there could be a human who has both the esoteric knowledge of the priest, the capability of communicating it through art, and the ability to use these two skills to be chiefs of their own tribes. Do these people exist among us, and will they be able to create order among a troubled human race? Perhaps, we shall see.