On The Wings of Hope : Prose

But until you have flown to the skies, remember – all the evils you see around is the crime and the punishment. Yours crime and yours punishment.

28.09.2010

The last word

-    So do you insist that the feeling of sincere patriotism in relation to the native land is not only negative, but is also fatal, harmful trait of the human person ?

-    Your so-called “patriotism” is your curse. These are your chains – threads, through which you are very convenient to be operated by someone another. Because of this “feeling of sincere patriotism” wars have been waged on the Earth and some of them are still going on, because of it you sacrifice things, much more important … much greater, than the goals of your politicians. It’s not even patriotism, it’s plain and total blindness. People keep dying and you sing in joy – for it promotes achievements of the aims of your state, most certainly great and all, and all, and all.

Are these truly your purposes ? Do you really want to slaughter each other ? Maybe those ones, whom you innocently kill, want it to ? Whose goals are these ? Yours ? Or injected into your consciences’s by the political top, injected very skillfully, by the way … even sweetened a bit for greater persuasiveness ?  You have already faced terrorism in own lives and have come through it. But when you are ready for either natural resources or land territories to wage terrorism in a much greater scale for “peaceful” purposes, as you are trying to believe, - is it not even greater and obvious crime against the humanity ? And what is most stunning – is that you do not consider such actions as any crime, for it’s the goodness of your own country, your nation … and you as a part of it.

You have been transformed into puppets in hands of your politicians, you became their ideological slaves. You even cannot say “no” when it’s truly needed, when the time demands it – and that’s the problem. You are being sent on a slaughter – and you willingly go on a slaughter. You are being sent into a battle for a next piece of resources – and you are ready to die for the glory of your motherland … ready to die for nothing.

You are not even free – you have never been free. You only dream of it, sing about it, speak among each other about it – but you are never free. And when the time comes for you to say “no” – you are saying “yes” instead …

That’s the problem, the greatest problem of mankind history – that the man is too suggestible, too controllable, for he is too weak to be his own master. The problem is that there are always those who can readily take advantage of it and use it for their own sake. And it will always be so – just until you become the masters of your own life.

Remember it – remember that well. Your future depends on it.

* * *

Spacious apartments. A heavy oak table near a wall sideways from a window … the working ancient wall clocks which are beating out their mysterious rhythm … an icon of the Savior in a gilt frame on one of the walls … and more, and more, and more …

Bom … bom … bom … - clocks beat slowly and methodically. And once again – bom … bom … bom …

-    Mister President, we suspect that you should familiarize yourself with these materials. It’s important for the stability of our power.

-    Show it then.

A soft flash – and the video display starts working. Lines and words, words and discussions, discussions and thoughts. After only fifteen minutes the demonstration of “materials” comes to an end. Ten seconds of silence …

-    What sort of clown is that ? Yet one more fighter for freedom and all. I’m stuffed up with that nonsense. Remove him.

Five seconds of silence …

-    Are you sure, mister President ?

-    Just remove him. And … well … take care of his family, of course. Do not refuse them in indemnification for his “accidental” death. And don’t let ones like him into our channels – or you can forget about your jobs. That is my last word. Is everything clear ? Nice. So  - what’s the next thing on our today’s agenda ?

Heavy oak table near a wall sideways from a window … an icon of Savior in a gilt frame … ancient wall clocks, beating out some mysterious rhythm …

Bom … bom … bom …

And once again – bom … bom … bom…

21.10.2010

The lesson of war

A roar of ranks of iron-armored monsters. A whistle, scratch and gnash, tearing air apart. Agonal screams of people - men-derelicts. Ones, who made themselves as such with own hands. Explosions, roaring in a far distance. Bearing death iron, cutting air apart. A crunch of human flesh under wheels of tanks, who are plowing this field of death and regret. Rage and hatred. Agony and horror. Pain and destruction ...