I see this as trying to climb back onto the tree, back to the nest, to relieve oneself of responsibility.
Is there, in all of the world's thousand's of religious tales, a story more glorious than that of the monkey that dared to leave the shelter of the trees. That saw the wide open plains, and ventured out there. That erected itself, that he could gaze upon the horizon and see the stars?
The microscope is my temple, discovering the very matter we are made of. The telescope, gazing at the very origin of the universe, is my cathedral, soaring upwards to the heavens.
What glory to the man who dares to let go of his mother's hand, dares to let go of master and god, who stands tall, walks proud and upright!
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