"OUR Virtues?—It is probable that we, too, have still our virtues, although naturally they are not those sincere and massive virtues on account of which we hold our grandfathers in esteem and also at a little distance from us. We Europeans of the day after tomorrow, we firstlings of the twentieth century—with all our dangerous curiosity, our multifariousness and art of disguising, our mellow and seemingly sweetened cruelty in sense and spirit—we shall presumably, IF we must have virtues, have those only which have come to agreement with our most secret and heartfelt inclinations, with our most ardent requirements: well, then, let us look for them in our labyrinths!—where, as we know, so many things lose themselves, so many things get quite lost! And is there anything finer than to SEARCH for one’s own virtues? Is it not almost to BELIEVE in one’s own virtues? But this “believing in one’s own virtues"—is it not practically the same as what was formerly called one’s “good conscience,” that long, respectable pigtail of an idea, which our grandfathers used to hang behind their heads, and often enough also behind their understandings? It seems, therefore, that however little we may imagine ourselves to be old-fashioned and grandfatherly respectable in other respects, in one thing we are nevertheless the worthy grandchildren of our grandfathers, we last Europeans with good consciences: we also still wear their pigtail.—Ah! if you only knew how soon, so very soon—it will be different!" (Friedrich Nietzsche, "Beyond good and evil", 214). I am just now becoming conscious of the fact that, much more debauched and dishonest though we are, compared to our forefathers, our grandchildren will nonetheless look up to us as somewhat brave creatures: we were born in times utterly different from ever before; we grew in a world where everything wanted us weak, meek and bleak, and yet our souls survived and flourished; we were born in times when the very ground we tread, the food we eat, the milk we are raised with are poison; we barely had been born, and already (((unmentionable powers))) wanted us to go extinct—*and we shall have survived*! We saw the light, which so great a part of us, being blind, considered fire and wished to quell... are we not really worth respect, for walking somewhat upright in utterly deranged times? We compare ourselves to knights of old and bow our head in shame—our grandkids (better raised than us, we hope) shall see our feats, and salute us proud and thankful. Think not ill of yourself for being not like your elders: among the sheep that march into a new world, only we can see. We were truly born in interesting times.
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