Moderation. It guards against the suicide of gluttony—especially spiritual gluttony, which, in the end, is the only real kind. Moderation is, itself, a virtue. Yet the hand that holds the tool can twist and squeeze moderation into an obsession—bend glorious virtue into gluttonous vice to feed self-worship, which is only ever self-destruction: soul-stripping fear of lack, and life-draining dread of death.
Inevitability. The best-laid plans of mice and men go awry only often. Yet doomed always, by design, is any plan to leverage moderation as a vehicle to taste a static eternity. Inevitability trumps moderation: In the end, even those most adept at moderation—they too meet death. Yet moderation still serves its purpose, because life is not a destination: it is a journey. Moderation—despite its reputation among the self-mangling fallen—is a powerful tool to extend and deepen life’s journey.
Gratitude. A system can only embrace the truth of reality—or else end. Our old system now ends, its proppers flailing away in the final hour. With it dies the Satanic myth that the inevitability of death justifies cynicism toward life, even contempt for it. (The myth, though dead, resurrects in the hearts of future fallen). The inevitability of change—including changes that bring decay and death—exempts no life from the requirement of gratitude. Gratitude is the rule. There are no exceptions: anything less than the breath of gratitude—is spiritual suffocation.