It lands on my doormat as a scroll,
red ribbon-bound, signed and sealed…
With hasty fingers the document is breached.
‘A Declaration of Independence for Men of Science’
My eyes scan the contents for clues to its compilers.
A motley crew…
The Specialist, instinctively opposed to all symbolic thinking.
The Labourer, adverse to the economy of expression displayed by true lovers of wisdom.
The Utilitarian, colour blind to the extent he believes all previous philosophies redundant.
The Artisan, his fear of disguised mysticism is everywhere manifest…
Their emancipation is clearly one of the after effects of untrammelled autocracy.
The cult of the individual now burgeons and flourishes.
There was a time when science walked hand-in-hand with the gods.
“Away with all masters…”
The cry echoes down the street,
as more of the ‘scurrilous rags’ are delivered,
and doubtless find their mark.