Modernity is Hell
Reflection #79: We, apparently, wanted hell, and so we built it. But there is a way out.
We've hardened our hearts against the aesthetic, against magic, against The Mystery. This is the rational, material, meaningless world that we wished for.
We, apparently, wanted hell, and so we built it. We continue to build endless miles of ugliness along encroaching hideous freeways. They spread across sylvan lands as greedily reaching fingers of darkness from the modern Mordor of our modernized minds. We argue fervently instead of finding solutions. We perpetuate forever wars while people rejoice that their Raytheon stock is going to ‘moon.’ We dehumanize our human brothers and sisters as a rationalization that it is “okay” to hate them. Politicians spew lies and foster dissent for the purposes of consolidating their own power. If there are any elves left upon this earth, they surely must think that Sauron still lives and once again, his armies march across the land in a putrid cloud of darkness.
Our hardened hearts have built shells around our souls in a sort of sclerosis against the aesthetic. We have anesthetized the most important parts of ourselves.
This is why transcendent beauty threatens the modern man. Beauty invites wonder, and wonder, that ‘divine wound,’ – is a power that breaks open our hearts, cracking their shells and exposing them to the true light once more.
“Beauty is not only a terrifying thing, but also a mysterious one. Here, the devil struggles with God, and the battleground is the hearts of men.” – Dostoyevsky
When one wishes to stay in Hell, the divine light of beauty is spiritually painful. The light reminds us that we are choosing, willfully, to turn away from our calling and that we desire to shun our divine destiny.
We are reminded, in the revealing nakedness of that bright light, to remember that we have chosen hell. When we are one of the damned, we feel the pain of existential angst and guilt of turning away from the divine call.
The good news is that this hell is a sort of delusion that we’ve created over a deeper realty, where the true Kingdom lies, calling us, through wonder. And to leave hell, all we have to do is truly want to, as evidenced by our listening to the call of God’s spell.
"The only way to get into Hell is to insist upon it. One must deliberately exclude himself from grace by hardening his heart against it. Hell is what the damned have actively and insistently wished for” — John Ciardi from “How to read Dante” which prefaces his translation of The Divine Comedy
Referenced Posts:
The Mystery
“I’m not sure who you are channeling but it is true and I’m being enriched by your work. You are a wise soul and I appreciate you.” — Ed Penniman on The Mystery
Goblins
“Dude, I haven't been reading your newsletter but I will be reading it now on. Masterfully done, my friend!” — John Orban
The Call of Wonder
“Beautifully spoken. Thanks for a very strong nudge back into quiet, back into wonder. I needed that. Thank you” — Grace Schlesier
The God Spell
“Love to you Clint in exposing truth to readers. Very well thought out words, sifted through the mind and soul of that one known as ‘Clintavo,’ that one small but unique piece of the holistic puzzle called life.” — Louanne Headrick
No AI Zone: Everything written in this post (and all my posts) is written 100% by me, Clint “Clintavo” Watson, a flesh and blood human seeking to grow my soul and come home my truest self; for that is the essence of creativity. I do not use AI to assist me with writing — that would deny me the very growth of my world through writing that I seek.
Poetic expression, spiritual ideas, and musings upon beauty, truth and goodness should be free to spread far and wide. Hence, I have not paywalled the work on this site. However, if you’re able to become a paid subscriber, I’d be eternally grateful. It would help, encourage and enable me to continue exploring these topics and allow me to keep it accessible for a world that is in desperate need of beauty, truth, goodness and love. — Creatively, Clintavo.
This reads like a psalm for the soul-sick—equal parts lament and luminous call to awaken. Clintavo has pierced the veil of modernity’s hollow comforts and pointed straight to the aching heart beneath our concrete sprawl. Beauty is the battleground, and wonder is the rebellion. In a world addicted to numbness, feeling anything sacred is a revolutionary act.
Hell isn’t a place—it’s the architecture of avoidance. But the light is still here, knocking, dazzling, unbearable in its mercy.
To choose wonder again is to betray the cynic within—and begin the long walk home.
I’m walking.
Your description reminds me of the "Nothing" from The Never Ending Story...