"WE WANT TO RELOCATE THEM IN OPERATIONAL ADJACENCIES RECOGNIZABLE TO THE NAKED EYE."
Anchor of the somber volume of what is restless, converted into a dynamo of adjustments—of opinions reduced to vague and ineffective opposition; we should at least make the details of our reactions a meticulous communication, not a demonstration of impulse-based separateness. And with a secret pencil, salivate again under the tongue, first anonymous words, buzzing through a new mask, seeking once again the right measure, composing the matter naturally, in an order stripped of hermeticism—for a little of "that" the Chinese call "CHI" (and with a Buddhist affection for criticism) in world relations. Integrate everything into a cold reality, dedicated to slow, mystified preparation. Turntables, and a healthy cooling of expectations, molding in the lobby of some Ritz. We would examine ourselves in the mirror: from our indifferent carcasses would come words that we would all desperately seek NOT TO UNDERSTAND. AH! WE NO LONGER FELT ANYTHING MUCH. All those pretexts! So much promise of totally selfish torpor that could only be approached with kid gloves.
In the world's hegemonic Control Center, however, the mirage had become more detailed. Something that at that moment seemed true disarmed any word to the contrary. Instead of the fever of ineffluxed senses, there was now only a distant circumspection, where any cruel doubt dissolved into imperceptible smiles. --- "WE WANT TO RELOCATE THEM IN OPERATIONAL ADJACENCIES RECOGNIZABLE TO THE NAKED EYE." Reducing any inconvenient lucidity to its true market proportions, we then turned phrases around in our mouths in the hope of broader abstractions, where our youthful habits, our calm tone, would find an intact falsehood of means, and risk the upward movement of the herd.
However, the clashing forces were heterogeneous, and the order of reactions frustrating; there was no equivalent nucleus between one nation and the other. Secret inflections of a minimally telephonic subtext: the glances we exchanged silently, from a distance, mentally, varied nuclear blackmail with doses of slippery irony and ruined journalistic representations. A bit of that suspicious theoretical hygiene in our hurried minds. In the irremediable vagary, getting by (?), and so much "clamor-mundi" amidst the desire for de-threat. Add another conference call, and once again we would experience a mutually ruined sense of dignity, right? The abrupt tone of someone speaking to strangers on the subway. Well, that's the outline!
(line by line, promising later influence)
Rejection and condemnation en masse.
I DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT WAS THAT TOOK ME OFF. I CALLED A SORT OF TRUCE BACK AND FORTH. I EVEN TRIED TO APOLOGIZE. BUT I SHOULD HAVE SEEN MYSELF WRITING THAT LATER. A HALF-CLOSED EVIL EYE AND MY NECK AND SHOULDERS HALF-STIFYING FROM THE TENSION OF THE MOMENT:
ResponderExcluirMy CONDUCT seems petty in the eyes of the world, I know. But I am aware of my actions; I will stand out again in the eyes of my people. Versions, diacritical marks, interferences invisible to the naked eye. Indecipherable revision microscopy generating changes to a secret code, while pickled computers eat Parnassian screensavers, wondering what kind of debt burdens the country with insinuations of peace. IN THE MONITORED FIELD OF WAR, NO GUILT. Invisible relationships (GUA, as the enemy calls them) to the untrained eye. Influence is exerted by persistence, but only in a few restricted areas. The unstable center of the world shining in the personal mirror.
Mediating the American marvels of war with an army of engaged un-marvelers. So much empty formality to fire a missile. And so many insults, suggesting parallels with the impassable day. RÚHÉ: "It's like what? HOW IS IT? HOW IS IT?!" Difficult to translate from classical Chinese. See Pulleyblank. MISFORTUNE! LOSSES! One must adopt a modest attitude, and install all one's challenges in a *(-------- illegible) where the internal silence has coagulated until it transforms into good news. Outside, others share DOXA at the limit of facts. Thinking (for them) is unprofitable, lacking all calculation and wallowing in the illusion of authenticity. Personally, I am familiar with much American research on "Chinese language." I remember that once a group of Chinese was sent to the United States to lecture at several universities for several American linguists. At the end of these meetings, some of the researchers had identified a problem: that neither Chinese linguistics nor the Chinese language were exactly "at the service of Politics."
ResponderExcluirTo which the Chinese replied that this was due to a recent deficiency inherited from dealings with the Europeans. But it would take too long to delve into the matter. Since the Cultural Revolution, in fact, no one has found the time to discuss it. However, my personal view has always been that, discounting all the absolute political totalitarianism, the radicalism, the obsessive discursive monologue, the monomaniacal fabric of a text without "flaws," and the chauvinism and militaristic Sinocentrism, the Chinese language remains very precise; I think it is possible to express one's thoughts in it with incredible precision.
ResponderExcluirPost scriptum
ResponderExcluirHALLELUJAH!, BROTHERS!, IT SEEMS ENOUGH TO SUSTAIN THIS FAITH IN THE PROPAGANDA HERO UNTIL THE END AND CELEBRATE ON THE INTERNET AFTERWARDS, BECAUSE EVERYTHING WILL WORK OUT VERY WELL, deeply believing that the ruling classes of the First and Third World are indeed still capable of imprinting intellectual and moral direction, that the material bases for such direction have not been dismantled along with all the tools of mobilization, enlightenment and political organization, in the last fifty years; and that YES!, HAIL!!!!, that the new "compromise solutions", amidst all the "unstable balances" of today's world, have not completely vulgarized the ideological-cultural sphere in which the classes aspiring to Leadership were formed. Obviously, the reader who might want to courageously undertake this noble task of confronting me intellectually, of refuting everything I gratuitously state here, should not be in any way surprised, much less offended (as happened so often with the newspapers I worked for), if she sees me, in the midst of her arduous, retort-inducing explanation, throw myself on the floor and writhe with laughter, as I begin to evaluate the result of such efforts ---- all the more hilarious the more well-intentioned they are.