Question: Hello, I'm from Philadelphia. We were just talking about discovery and intervention. And my question, sort of, is about moral decisions, as a discovery and an intervention in the universe. And, I've heard you speak a lot about the tragedy of Hamlet, and how his fear of the unknown paralyzed his ability to solve the problems of Denmark. But, even if his behavior was completely flight-forward and completely irrational, what about people with good intentions? And, by "good intentions" I mean, like the med student, who wants to save lives, but can't mobilize to stop a complete societal collapse; or the anti-war protester, who can't take one evening to be revolutionary. It seems like these people are gripped with both a fear of the unknown, and an ingrained need to be moral, while blocking on the question of efficiency of moral decisions. Can you discuss tragedy in this type of personality?

LaRouche: Yeah, sure! That's exactly what it is. That's exactly the problem. The Hamlet thing is typical of the problem: That's why it's such a brilliant operation. You have two things: Take the Julius Caesar, take the thing I quote from Julius Caesar--Cassius to Brutus: "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlines." Hmm? So, the individual says, "I'm only an impotent little me: [whiny] "Don't expect me to change the universe! Don't expect me to select the next President of the United States! I'm just a little me! Let's be practical. Let's stick to little me! And let me figure what I can do."

And therefore, he gets in this point, that he has no sense of immortality; he has no sense of accountability to the future of mankind. And he's frightened by the very idea, that he's accountable for what happens after he dies: That is, in the sense of what he does with his life, while he's alive, he's accountable for the effect of what he does, or doesn't do, for humanity, after he's dead. He has no sense of immortality. He doesn't put this question of immortality in the proper place, in respect to what he's doing while he's still alive.

That's the essential form of impotence. You have man, who's capable of knowing the principles of the universe, who's capable of acting upon them, to change the universe. He's capable of changing the way society acts, in order to save it from self-destruction: And yet, he fails to do so, because he's afraid; or because he wants to find a solution, which fits his immediate concerns. He's frightened. He says, "Don't scare me! Yes, yes, it's true! If I had the courage to act, we might save society, but it would scare me to do it. Therefore, don't ask me to do it!." Impotence. That's your typical American.

Now, that's what my function is. I'm not scared, not that way. Most people are, including in our association--they're frightened. Their fears take some very weird forms, because the more conscious they are, the more they're aware of these kinds of problems, the more complicated the devices they use to try to conceal from themselves, the fact that they're being cowards. They won't say, "I'm a coward." They would say, "That's impractical." Or, "I don't think I can believe that." Or, "I don't see that." In other words, they go into very complicated stunts, to try to--you know, where  the simple guy says, "Look, I'm a coward. Look at me, I'm Sancho Panza. I'm a coward! I admit it!" He says, "What d'you eat all the time? I know there are these larger things, I just can't reach out--. I get too worried about my eating. My pleasures." The intellectual gets complicated. He's not honest like Sancho Panza. He lives in a fantasy world, like Don Quixote. And he gets these elaborate, insane kinds of confabulations, huh? To try to pretend he's not what he is: a poor, stinking, whimpering coward.

Now, it's like Hamlet, who is a swashbuckling mass murderer. He's not a coward in the sense of avoiding battle, but avoiding responsibility, for the universe, now, or what it would become as a result of his having lived in it, now: a sense of immortality.

So, very few people have a sense, a developed sense of personal immortality, in life. Very few people would recognize and accept the concept of Jeanne d'Arc's choosing to be burned alive rather than betray the mission which she had adopted. That kind of sense of immortality. And therefore, that leads to all kinds of funny problems, as I've said, especially among people who are educated, because people who become educated, they learn how to talk their way around what the most simple-minded fellow, simply will either admit, or punch you in the nose, for bringing it up. If you tell a simple-minded person he's acting like a coward, he'll punch you in the nose: "Who's a coward?! Who's a coward?! Stand up! Fight like a man! I'll show you who's a coward!" But, he's a coward--like Hamlet. Whereas the so-called intellectual is more devious: He invents elaborate explanations, for what is, in fact, simple moral cowardice.

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