They are so much stronger and better equipped, they are so well organized—always poised for immediate, or at least timely, action—and their will is demonstrably indomitable. What could we, the righteous ones, possibly do against such a formidable adversary? Whenever we clash, our forces disperse after their first charge, or perhaps after the second. We proudly refuse to use their weapons. We will not partake in their evil designs. And thus they have won too many times, and we have lost one time more often. It appears that we lost at the very beginning, before we had a chance to make a choice, or even before the very division existed. But we will not give in, we will not succumb to the impossibility, for the victories and defeats do not, and could not, matter to us, the cunning ones. We are worthy of them. Ultimately, we know, the entire species is at stake: the degradation must go on forever, as an index of our vitality and our purpose, and of the abyss that separates us.

Addendum (July 3, 2015)

So many years later, I would not change a word in this account of the struggle I joined in my youth. In the meanwhile, their lead has only become so much more pronounced. They are formidable, indeed. And we, the righteous ones, are ever more puny, if not also laughable. Nobody thus pays us any attention any longer. We are history in every sense of that word while they are still vibrant and chipper. Nay, exuberant. The best I can do so many years later is to wait and see what will become of them when Mother Nature takes a few swipes at them at long last. And she surely will, for she simply must. We, the cunning ones, could not do a thing to stop them in their tracks, but Mother Nature is an entirely different kind of adversary. As ever, I can only hope to be a witness. A lucky witness, I hasten to add, for we have been decimated by now. Few and far between, we are a pitiful sight at this stage. In her way, Mother Nature is our only solace, for the degradation seems to be reaching its bloody end. The entire species is at stake, as I guessed rightly in the flower of my youth.