Or maybe it was that it should, but should never be shared, or maybe it was a bus timetable and fares – muddled became a story (as the mind is oft to do) of a graveyard, a mass grave with no markers or names where
people, piled twelve deep and miles across are splayed criss cross and tongue tied around each other.
It’s said that there are no visitors – a sign says so in gentle block lettering “No Visitations” and were a curious person to walk in anyway to see if this tale is true – nothing would be found. Not even under stones.
Here they say, is a place where even the birds respect the silence demanded, for what a killing it is indeed that brought them together. It’s a place beyond wishing rest, where sleep is done softly wide eyed.
The buried are not to be missed or mourned or cried “why for why for” in this place. Here the secrets are too old for words, too sacred for memory, and too fragile to know.
Or so they say and how ridiculous a thing – a story like that.
But it’s said that just before a kill is made, all voices gone before can be heard by a few, their speech only for when they offer this comfort (weirder and more true than any other)
that it is known that a mass grave, miles splayed, criss crossed lie the tongue tied, bound to each other – bones locked in solidarity for all time.
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There is quite a bit to understand about the Cultural Revolution and how much of it, as chaotic as it may seem, was not simply random or reactive or due to fractions with the party, but rather Mao’s vision.
Familiar echos included.
This book is taxing me a great deal but I’ll continue to share parts I think may be important/informative.
How can I explain
When there are few words I can choose
How can I explain
When words get broken
(love)
Do you remember
There was a time ahaha
When people on the streets
Were walking hand in hand in hand
They used to talk about the wheather
Making plans together
Days would last forever
Come to me, cover me, hold me
Together we'll break these chains of love
Don't give up
(Don't give)
And don't give up
(Up)
Together with me and my baby
Break the chains of love
Not only do we have our special jab’oliday inclusion and a portion of the Neo Gospel according to Jenna, the devoted @JennaPinkyPoo22, but also this *has* to be a good one, guys.
We have heard Xi stepped on a lego and is moody and not pleased with our insolence. He may do some zoom calls to lay down some extra smite. So with feeling now please. Show them all you mean it and keep the chairman in your joyful heart. Ya ready?
———
👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻🙏🏻So say we all...
I repent oh wise, Covidians.
See my shame and sincere wish to be cleansed of my unholy affliction.
Anoint my lips with sacred coverings.
Strike the cruel delusion of individualism from my mind and the self from my heart.
It is not trivial or selfish to say we must get back to the business of being human. It is a fact and necessary for survival and sanity. Those who claim that we are, and they have been doing all to protect the most vulnerable and preserve life now must, if they are sincere,
approach the future with a more rational and honest set of guidelines and not fear investigation or questions in the false justification of community over the individual. It is a false binary.
We must be allowed to choose and learn about what options are available to us other than standing in what are no more moral or well managed than Lysenko’s broken promises or Mao’s empty fields.
A thread (brain dump) cause I can’t sleep and I’m finding a certain recent NY / member of the “literati” or “intellectual” spooky as hell. They kinda remind me of the stereotypical mean girls. Maybe that’s what’s keeping me up. 😆 They’re baaa-aaack!
Why does it appear that so many seem to delight in public humiliation, cruelty and even the implication of “cancelation?” Do some never outgrow it? The more people claim cancel culture is a myth the darker the fantasy that seems to drive it appears (to me.)
The Maoist/Stalinist lite meets Freddie Kruger LARP would be nothing if the “performative” on display didn’t have a history of well, leading to huge body counts frankly.
What a strange way to concede that cancel culture not only is very real, but that it is violent and quite likely delusional. But it is a concession nonetheless, which in the same way the author was amused at the prospect, is quite “funny.”
She wrote “Nobody loves canceling Bible characters more than God does. Ask Lot’s wife. Or the residents of Sodom and Gomorrah, or the firstborn children of Egypt.”
Now I’m not one to ever belittle satire. However the satirical works when it amplifies the absurdity of a formally defendable position; Johnathan Swift being a popular example. The author may claim this was satire, but it isn’t. What it is is equally as revealing about a