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17 january 2013  (0139US)  
happy new year, my neighbor!

The man that saves me from the fire has no face,
no citizenship, no religion. He's my savior.
So it is that I have to see my neighbor.

Happy new year, neighbor!
Who is my neighbor?
This is seemingly simple, my neighbor is the other one.
Yes, but otherness is so infinite that it is impenetrable!

Who on earth is the other one?
When I look at the other one throughout the world and under all possible circumstances, I see he is so various, infinite or indefinite in every respect, that I catch myself seeing a large number of others and doubting if each of them is my neighbor.
In 1492, the year Christopger Columbus discovers America the dwellers of which, Caribbeans and Rad Indians, we Europeans are going to slaughter,  Isabella of Castile expels the Jews from Spain. A Caribbean, or a Red Indian, or a Jew is not the neighbor of an European.
Twenty-one years later, in 1517, Martin Luther founds Protestantism. The Catholic and the Reformed are going to kill or harm each other for centuries. A Protestant is not a Catholic's neighbor and so conversely.
Even once resigned to different religions, Europeans do not experience love: All in all they're interested in the other one not much apart from destroying him, which was done only 100 years: World War 1, 70 years: Auschwitz, or 25 years: the Gulag, etc. ago. Little time actually, almùost nothing on a historic scale.

For instance, Mr Sarkozy yesterday or Mr. Hollande today. Is he my neighbor, since I am assailed with an irrational apprehension whenever I think of him? Quite frankly I have doubts not about the Evangelical principle, but about my real knowledge of what my neighbor is whenever I think of a man to whom I as a man of God means less than his dog. I have to learn much about what the other one is to me.
Otherness is still nothing but the withdrawal of each man, to his self, his family, his village, his ideas, simply to exist, since he does not exist for the other one.
Oh! We have not been short of humanists to call on us to love, from Jesus to Erasmus and Albert Camus… in books.
But in reality I am unsure if things are better.
Things are better but just seemingly. The other one takes up my job, he puts his durty feet on the seats of my train or bus, he takes my family allowance and my national health and pensions money. The "witches of my neighborhood", as Montaigne said, are still there with their veils on their heads, or bubus, or gossiping tongues.
To think that lots of people are interested in their dogs, their cats or in extraterrestrial aliens before they are interested in their neighbor.
All things considered, the neighbor is still someone to be created in my mind.
So it is highly appropriate to wish my neighbor to be born within me by the day in 2013 and wish my mission to be unfailingly spreading two concomitant ideas: Man has to be penitent, that is, to love, forgive, make peace, look for spiritual intelligence and freedom, and penitents have to look for other penitents and so on, ceaseless series of penitents looking for penitents in the course of the generations coming.
This is the fundamental Message of The Revelation of Arès.
Work will not be in short supply in my old years.

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