Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part III – Chapter I – A Narrator's Ideals

PART III

BROTHER CLUSTER TALE

* * *

Consider the following proposition, dear reader: better to have bad ideals as long as reality is good. Is that correct?

I've managed to extricate myself from these real or imaginary contradictions of life by suggesting that we judge ponies not by what they are but by what they strive to become. I'm an awful rascal, but my ideals, on the contrary, are good. I've harboured them as sacred, saved them throughout my career as narrator. But that isn't enough. What prophet or heart-reader is able to penetrate and unscramble them, if the total reality contradicts them and is unworthy of them? None, I don't think.

I remember that I once spoke with Princess Celestia (yes, I'm very real), and she asked me, "Where do you get your ideals?" I positively refused to answer such a question, since no matter the debate we'd never reach an agreement. This is a most protracted controversy and, to me, most momentous. Have the ponies ideals, or haven't they? This is a question of life and death. The controversy has lasted too long, and it's reached that final point where to some ponies the ideals have been revealed as clearly as sunlight, while others are never taken notice of.

As for the moral—"better to have bad ideals as long as reality is good"—with how it's wound up, I'll be the first to tell you that this desire is wholly impossible to achieve: without good ideals, that is, without even vaguely specific longings for the better, no good reality can ever ensue. It's impossible. I will even positively assert that there would ensue nothing but a still more obnoxious abomination. Would you be so good as to agree, dear reader?

But, well, I'm leaving a loophole: if things look unbecoming at present, but with a clearly conceived desire to become better, that is, with ideals of a better future, someday we may even make up our minds and really become better. In any event, this is not at all impossible, that is, it's more conceivable than the proposition to become better with bad ideals, that being evil aspirations and what have you.

I hope, dear reader, that you do not grow angry with me for these few words of mine. I really can't help myself. Let each one of us adhere to his own opinion and wait for... something. I don't know what.

Before we continue on with the story, a few things should be noted. First, that the upcoming section of my chronology will be following in the hoof-steps of our Cluster. I do not know for certain if this is the right move, or if it might be owed to a certain underdeveloped loftiness on my part. I am very much so a paradoxical narrator, precisely because I sometimes break the rules with no notion of a goal, and do so for the mere revelry of spite. You know, it can sometimes be extraordinarily pleasant to act out in spite.

The second thing I wish to note is a brief conversation Cluster had with Princess Celestia, some five years back, about war. Keep in mind that war, at least in Equestria, is an almost taboo topic; that is, virtually everypony is unanimously anti-war. And, might I add, for good reason. As every other pony will tell you, war is a blight, it's a completely wild idea that only serves to add up the body count. Who in their right mind would defend war on moral grounds?

Cluster, being Cluster, did just that. But as is so common in his fashion, he defended the act of war not for a love of paradox or being a contrarian, but he defended it on firm and ardent principles. With the exception of Princess Celestia, every other pony scrutinized him dearly. Even to this day I cannot get a grasp on him.

"On the contrary," he told the Princess, "war is a useful thing. The only type of war that's generally despised is civil, fratricidal. It deadens the country: it'll last too long, and it brutalizes ponies for whole centuries. But, political and international wars—like the wars with Griffons, or even past wars between unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies—they're useful in every respect, and, therefore, absolutely necessary."

"But one pony rises against the other, and that invariably leads to many deaths," said Princess Celestia. "What's necessary in this, my student?"

"Everything. But, to begin with, it's a lie that ponies go to war to kill each other or other creatures. On the contrary, they go to sacrifice their own lives. This is what stands in the foreground. And this is altogether different. There's no idea more lofty and majestic than to sacrifice one's life, or even to simply defend the cause of one's native land. Ponykind can't survive without majestic ideas, and I'm even inclined to suspect that certain ponies love war precisely because they seek to participate in them. It's an urge, and wars were only brought to an end via your rule. Isn't that right, Celestia?"

"So if it weren't for me, ponykind would openly love war?"

"Without question they would. Who feels depressed during wars? On the contrary, everypony is enheartened, everypony's spirits rise, and you don't hear about the usual apathy and boredom as in times of peace. And afterwards, when a war is over, ponies will like to reminisce about it even in the case of defeat. And don't believe the guards who, when attending war, shake their heads and say to one another, 'This is all horrible! What have we come to!' They're only being polite. In everypony dwells a holiday spirit. Nopony will admit these things: they'll say 'brute,' 'reactionary,' and in the end, nopony will dare praise war."

"You speak of these majestic ideas, Cluster, but can't all that be found without war? In times of peace, it's easier to better yourself."

"Dead wrong. The opposite is true. Lofty ideals perish during long periods of peace and, in its stead, we would normally develop cynicism, apathy, weariness, and this—almost for the sake of an idle pastime, and not for any important purpose. With peace the ponies will be obdurated. When peace lasts things would swing the other way. Peace dulls the feelings."

"You said that 'normally' ponies would develop a cynical worldview, but they haven't, have they?"

"Thanks to you they haven't."

"And isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Cluster reached the train station just in time. He found a single pegasus coachpony by his carriage.

"Are you currently available?" asked Cluster.

"Certainly, sir," replied the coachpony.

"I'm going to Baltimare."

"Come along then."

They haggled for a minute on the price and eventually reached a consensus. Then, the coachpony walked back into the station house, got himself ready, came back, and harnessed up.

"Will you be in town tomorrow?" asked Cluster once more.

"Yes, sure."

"Do me a favour, would you? Stop and see Bronze Pocket, and tell him that I didn't go to Appleloosa. Can you do that?"

"Why not? I'll stop by. I've known Bronze for a long time."

"Here's a tip for you. I doubt you'll get anything from him."

"True enough, I won't," laughed the coachpony. "Thank you, sir. I'll be sure to do it."

Soon after they had taken off, the familiar rays of the golden sun showered upon the land. The hues of the sky brightened, one shade at a time, and in no time the sun was raised. There went the Summer Sun Celebration.

A prophecy for you, 6000 years from now...