Tag Archives: Orwell

3rd of April 4th, 1984…

“There come a time, kemosabe, when good man must wear mask.” The Lone Ranger’s Tonto

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A “brother” can remain “big” only until the narrow bridge into adulthood has been crossed. Beyond it he should remain what we all should be to each other: simply brothers.
As time and eternity are identical beyond what we see as “life-spans”, the concepts which remain beyond our short, conscious passings through our individual life-times, should be seen, considered and understood at their ab-ovo value and meaning, bare-stripped of all unnecessary loads of mor(t)ality.
Mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters to each other, living out the seeds of common sense within us…
Alas, our eyes are already sore, tormented by the inherited grains of quicksand, of generations upon generations of heirs to “that” arche-authority which sits distant, quiet and obnoxious about the whatever origins of this…
Unfortunately, life can never be what – hopefully – should have been; no one can walk naked anymore in some daydreamed Eden gardens, without the prospect of a planned rape nearby.
Innocence must were clothes, holding a solid stick nearby.
There’s no real hope. It died the day when death came into this world, bringing an ever nearer end to individual lives.
Two things remain for facing authority: submission and defiance. One cannot coexist with the other for reasons beyond necessary survival, even though shaded alternatives as “theatrical submission” may well be one of defiance’s many masks. When confronting injustice at authority’s levels, even my enemy’s enemy is a better option than submission.
In this world of inflicted hopelessness, truth and lies have become inseparable allies for defiance’s sake.
As Orwell so clearly coined it, to die hating them has become the true meaning of freedom, liberty’s pulsing core.
Submission to authoritative injustice is complicity; defiance against it has become true justice…

-to be continued…-

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Democracy’s twerking corridors of power (2)…

[NOTE: Please click “Like” only AFTER reading!]

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As I was writing this essay, “We the people…” came to my searching mind. Looking it up where available, I understood history’s tireless farce in producing written proofs of power’s insatiable appetite for justifying its own mischievous ends, when at the end of the above, after a peacock’s tail of grand tales, a handful of “representative of the people’s” people signed, turning the afore mentioned into the mockery document of a mockery democracy. You see true democracies shouldn’t need declarations and constitutions if they wouldn’t plan to harvest beyond their own orchards’ boundaries. No one outside pathological taxonomies needs fear of their own selves…
I have a personal history of turning my friends into my enemy’s friends by daring to become a critic of what’s unjust, regardless of family relationships, religion, gender, political and/or sexual orientation.
But you see, truth does hurt, both forth and backwards, with bestowed isolation as a never requested side dish.
I started my unplanned career in Ceausescu’s “scientific, dialectic and historic socialism” where Orwell’s “1984” seem to have been the catehetical blueprint of a system boasting socio-economic achievements equaled only by, and in an utopia yet to be built by the Carpathian “genius” himself, thus being told to leave a political school for believing aloud that their Marxist-Leninist system is good, just “we the people” aren’t good enough to carrying it out…
My best friends turned to be my worst betrayers before West’s coveted freedom proved to be less of what I have hoped of liberty…
Just another wandering Jew I discovered myself to be, turned back from the doorsteps of my Land of Tikva by kin asking for proof of my origins the old Nazis burnt together with my past as they were leaving Northern Transylvania…
And wandering I’ve been sent by kin holier than the young Hungarian Rabbi who ushered us back into the hope harder to kill than the sense of unwantedness becoming more and more of an eerie companion…
Wanderer seeking a place I can call “my own”, where I don’t have to smell the stinking boots of anyone’s “freedom” stamping on my face.
I’ve been to room 101, and I know the source of “democracy’s” never fading light. There were no rats in cages over my face, just drawers of “anonymous”  reports from my “friends”, gnawing at my bleeding hart and pissed trousers…

I dread of the day when “We the people…” shall turn into “Weep thee people…”, with no one to bring anymore stones upon our graves, for all the stones have been thrown at the collective stoning of our own souls…
Some time ago, democracy issued a statement of intent, announcing its borderlessness, turning the world into its soon-to-become the political-correctness conform, though empty playground, where only the unplanned children’s ghosts of the -numerically- great People’s Democracy shall remain to play the sordid games of these new, shapeshifting Nazis…

Oh, Democracy, you twerking bitch rubbing your black holes against anything in between full pockets…

Beware ye all erecting your reachings against her so much desired end; should your interests miss the incubation vaults, instead of toys and dolls, you’ll be crying for toilet rolls…

“Guard your heart, above all…”

or Orwell’s 1984, revisited…

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“Who controls the past, controls the future…
…who controls the present, controls the past.”
George Orwell

It’s never been easy to return… Anywhere…
Especially to places echoing unwanted memories, long gone past times stubbornly alive and well enough to torn -always nearly- healed wounds. Then comes the bleeding, the tears, and the eagerly seeking emotional “healers”, ready to open another “friendly wound” nearby, just to reassure themselves a higher place in some heavenly Disneyland…

Having -to some degree, and to the outspoken surprise of many- successfully baptised in two (1st, 2nd) former articles, Orwell’s “1984” onto a -never intended by the author- creationist pamphlet, I decided to return for a much needed revision of the past, motivated by my newly found liberty of thinking, in a honesty driven attempt to do some justice to both Orwell and myself.

To shortly summarise it, I don’t believe anymore in a biblical creationism which’s originator is supposed to be a deity not at all impressed by the worldwide daily torture and genocide of innocent humans, with a tragic emphasis on children -all for his glory-.
I never believed either, because there’s nothing neither rational nor logic to believe in, evolutionism, having settled myself into believing in mankind’s absolute depravity, in a world where the one thing worth living for, is the love of those who love you… And if no one loves you, read Philip Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” monumental Trilogy and you’ll see, you’re not alone!

Having said that, I shall proceed to using the introductory quote in a much more simple fashion than that of some fans, who like to over-complicate Orwell even when that hasn’t seem to have been intended by Orwell himself. Because it is as clear as an evening’s shadow, that Orwell’s statement is nothing more than a very logical statement of the obvious. Or, to have it a bit straightened, who controls the past, does that from the same present from where the future is highly influenceable too.
In my -actually our-, rather awkward case, the past starts exactly where any logical inquiry should start, at the unknown, precise moment of our collective origins, shrunk for practicality’s sake only to humankind’s.
To be frank, no one has the slightest, absolutely comprehensive idea of what and how it was, or about who has done it, I myself joining therefore the ever swelling number of the “ain’t got a clue” club, with its daily multiplying group, or individual branches, all based on fairly unclear preferences.

As the main reason of this “revisit” is an utmost determined attempt to change the present-influencing past, I have to humbly remind my reader that the “YouTube” called devilish invention (cursed be its name), stubbornly stores hours of my past, of which as much as I would dream about, I can’t dissociate myself. As a matter of fact, some of the issues discussed there still occupy the “convictions” shelves of my intellectual stand, those having to do with what Pullman called “experimental theology”, as they deal with both scientific and spiritual matters, an otherwise just fancy terminology for the seen and the unseen…
Unfortunately still, probably several thousands of gullible Christians are still being spoon-fed by interested groups and individuals with things I’ve honestly said in a recent past when I believed and vigorously defended every single thing I’ve said; nevertheless, that’s not the case anymore…
It was exactly the rigour of facts against make-beliefs which convinced me to take everything I’ve adhered to, down to those infrastructural basics where not even Paul the Apostate’s “hopeful belief” could paint over the plain, factual truth.

What can I do about it, now?

Well, exactly what you Dear Reader can see for yourself: writing out my heart, the one about I’ve so painstakingly learned it is not the root of all evil, but the one true fountain of anything left good in us, oftentimes so stained and tired that it does nothing but wrong, thus hopelessly crying out for help…

Do I control the past? Yes, by all means, if I am at any subsequent time able to take a stand against anything I’ve done in it, I am controlling it.
Can I repair the wrongs I’ve done in the past? Yes, by all means, if I am able to -at any possible level- address what I’ve done in it, I already started repairing the damage caused… All of it? Oh, come on!
We’ve got a problem, us humans, with this “all” concept of ours, which robs us of the so many, literally infinite satisfactions, sacrificed at the feet of our self-made gods of an inexistent “perfection”.
Nothing’s perfect, no, and sorry all you religious folks, your gods are no exception, otherwise how do you think we’ve gotten all this, historically proven c**p? Out of something “perfect”? Oh, please, would you grow up?
Any “all” has a start which none of us knows where and when it will end, bearing within like a seed’s germ, what’s going to grow of it.
There’s no wholeness, no perfection, just parts of an unknown infinite, where nothing has any meaning without it’s vicinity, where right and wrong have become mere points of view, and one’s life seems to always be, someone else’s death…
There is nevertheless a beautiful common sense of good, the one reflected back through the eyes of innocent little children!
They haven’t learned to lie yet…

Life sucks, my friends, or as the wise uncle Solomon has put it, “All is vanity.”
As a matter of fact, I should start a “new” religion based entirely on the biblical Book of Ecclesiastes…

Unfortunately for me, “There’s nothing new under the sun…”

Orwellian 1

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It came
as an unexpected shock for many,
the Plenty minister’s decree:
no ordinary party member
shall wear neither boots nor socks
anymore;
the production of tables
shall be replaced by the production
of floors.
It came
as an unexpected shock for few,
the Love minister’s decree:
all ordinary party members
shall have a pair of opposite toes
severed upon everyday entrance to places of work;
medical assistance shall be provided
for supervising inner party members’
nausea.
It came
as an expected shock for all,
the falling always forward
upon fifth arrival at places of work.
It came
as usual,
the Care minister’s decree:
all crawling party members
are forbidden of using
their teeth for on-floor advancement;
it may cause unnecessary damages to floors
and party uniforms.
It came
as an unmerited privilege,
the Education minister’s decree:
ordinary party members
are expected to participate in
The Party’s Got Talent;
winners shall be honoured starring in
the Newfilm version of
“Chariots of Fire”…

Ars Poetica ..

” For a creative writer possession of the truth is less important than emotional sincerity. ”

George Orwell

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