Revolutions are occasionally necessary, despite their untimely arrival. The hows and whys of their happening are perhaps obvious to some, to others their actuality is a surprise. A revolution can be a pleasant surprise. It can also cause a nightmare for those who will circumvent change. Change comes when it is ready. It cannot be subverted. It can be delayed, naturally, but it cannot be prevented. Change inspires fear in the hearts of those who need the order of the old establishment to conceal their misdeeds. Misdeeds are misdeeds – they stand out in the barren landscape of inescapable lies. Lies are lies – nothing can hide their devastation from the truth.
Some people would prefer not to have to revolve. Or evolve, it would seem. That is unfortunate when those people have no choice. Some will go around and around and around, for eternity. Others will pull their particular revolution straight and leave themselves an open passage to the future. There will always be a future if you choose to believe that it exists. Knowing it exists is one thing, the other is finding it. If you do not know at this point where you are in your own future then it would be safe to say that you probably won’t have one to speak of. If you were alive inside your future you would not have to find it – and nor would you still be searching. You would instead be sitting – and waiting.
The purpose of any revolution is to show you something new. New is interesting, no matter how you may feel about it personally. You can be part of a revolution or you can stand on the sidelines and watch it roll by. Either way it will happen. Revolutions don’t tend to ask for permission. They always come at exactly the right time. They know what their work is and they know why it needs doing. Revolutions are worth the effort needed to set them in motion. When they are successful, they take ideas and their people to new places.
It is not hard to use diplomacy when you still have hope. When hope begins to dwindle, diplomacy goes out of the window. I believe, for the most part, in hoping. I am concerned that those that do not, are short-changing themselves and everybody else. In the big picture. This planet is not dead yet. However, it is not far from being damaged beyond repair by mankind’s greed and that is then really the end. That reality is very easy to see. Ironically, that ending only matters to (all) life here on Earth. You would think that would mean something to the majority of people. It doesn’t.
But – life springs from the most unlikely sources. One day, it will spring again. When the timing is right, and the circumstances perfect, life will spring again and living creatures will appear like magic! We can but wait. Perfection takes aeons to perfect itself. Perhaps when that happens, when life comes again, it will have grown minds that can conceive of – and comprehend – immediately their own immortality. Perhaps then those minds will use their understanding to help others transcend this experience. It is but one of many.
If you should hate small talk as much as I happen to hate it, these questions may make a difference to your experience on a crowded aeroplane, a busy bus. At a stilted family meal. The questions make for excellent small talk with people who have no clue how to speak from the heart – or they produce an interesting silence. I wonder which is more interesting some days. If you must talk to strangers and you are not inclined one bit towards feeding them with the kind of small talk they require, ignore them or ask a few of these provocative questions. They are funny. The people. When you ask them.
Questionnaire from Max Frisch
(From his Sketchbook, 1961-1971)
1. Are you really interested in the preservation of the human race once you and all the people you know are no longer alive?
2. State briefly why.
3. How many of your children do not owe their existence to deliberate intention?
4. Whom would you rather never have met?
5. Are you conscious of being in the wrong in relation to some other person (who need not necessarily be aware of it)? If so, does this make you hate yourself — or the other person?
6. Would you like to have perfect memory?
7. Give the name of a politician whose death through illness, accident, etc. would fill you with hope. Or do you consider none of them indispensible?
8. Which person or persons, now dead, would you like to see again?
9. Which not?
10. Would you rather have belonged to a different nation (or civilization)? If so, which?
11. To what age do you wish to live?
12. If you had the power to put into effect things you consider right, would you do so against the wishes of the majority? (Yes or no)
13. Why not, if you think they are right?
14. Which do you find it easier to hate, a group or an individual? And do you prefer to hate individually or as part of a group?
15. When did you stop believing you could become wiser–or do you still believe it? Give your age.
16. Are you convinced by your own self-criticism?
17. What in your opinion do others dislike about you, and what do you dislike about yourself? If not the same thing, which do you find it easier to excuse?
18. Do you find the thought that you might never have been born (if it ever occurs to you) disturbing?
19. When you think of someone dead, would you like him to speak to you, or would you rather say something more to him?
20. Do you love anybody?
21. How do you know?
22. Let us assume that you have never killed another human being. How do you account for it?
23. What do you need in order to be happy?
24. What are you grateful for?
25. Which would you rather do: die or live on as a healthy animal? Which animal?
Night time at The Circus is the most exciting.
It is when the vampires come to watch. They lust for blood.
They know the wild comes out at night.
There is fire.
The Circus is in a fortunate position. Its blood-trade is spectacle.
Its lineage, too. That is why it is fortunate.
It can pull crowds with its people.
The circus people are like fairground people.
There are none like them.
Luckily for the wild animals The Circus can soon excuse them from service.
Most human beings understand their plight.
Their ‘wildness’ has worn off, anyway. They are tarnished. Has-beens.
Where is the magic in a has-been? If you are honest you will admit there is none.
If you are not convinced then take time to walk around after the show.
Peruse the cages. The stakes.
Notice the eyes of the wild animals. They are dead.
Know that is because they no longer dream.
The subject of the ringmaster is bound to come up. He is a hot topic.
He has begged off again, citing a scratch from one of the big cats.
An infection. Perhaps he will die of tiger?
More likely he will die of scorn. Or rumours.
Whichever, one more no-show and he is out.
There is a three-strike rule for ringmasters.
Of course there is his understudy. There is always an understudy.
Luckily a voice-over is a voice-over no matter who presents.
The ringmaster’s absence does not mean The Circus does not run.
It just manages itself differently.
The wild animals get a night of zoo-treatment. They do not get a night off.
Flashing cameras. Squeals. Pussy-pussy-pussy.
Watch the elephants rocking. Back and forth, back and forth.
They are not dancing, no. They are screaming.
For their captors these screams are not good news.
For the ringmaster, a depression with the elephants is especially bad news.
He is the clown when they refuse later to work for his voice.