Kinda Sorta

A guy once told me that if God loves you then you’re gonna travel much. The guy had his share, willingly or forcibly. From Middle Europe up to Vorkuta, north of the Arctic Circle, and back again. From the Carpathians down to Gibraltar and back again. His eyes have seen battlefields, concentration camps (from inside the fences), airplane jumping, forced marches, gulags, frigid concrete cells (that made the Soviet Gulag look like a walk in the park, according to his remarks) and constant social exclusion. He played the piano when he had one at hand. A witty little man, he got together with a Russian piano teacher so that they could play together. Sing about the wonders of life, share the last penny in his pocket with a homeless on the stairs of the subway in Madrid. You figured out that he’s never been rich, in the sense of the world, yet he’s always been Sovereign, as above and beyond the world and its senses.

Another guy, loved by God nevertheless, served in the Soviet wars in Karabakh, visited the Baikal in his travels to Vladivostok, earned a living in Moscow, Sankt Petersburg, Berlin and Barcelona. A fitness freak, he knows who he is: a Soviet Spaniard (make what you wish out of this statement).

Once upon a time, there was a little girl, a Bavarian princess, who followed her love in marriage, unknowingly right into centuries-old feuds, struggling to keep the fort against nationalism and nihilism together. Those two ghosts troubling the nineteenth century only to incarnate into the Nazis and the Kommies of the twentieth.

Have a quote from a book no one reads.

“There was no Unix in 1867, dear. But…”

“But it was the pinnacle year of Sissi’s glory. Remember? She saved the Austrian Monarchy for her man, giving the past another chance, while comforting the genuine aspirations of the Hungarians to their sovereign, but integrated, Kingdom. With unequaled charm, she gave the Caesar what belongs to Caesar, she gave to God what belongs to God, and to the people what their hearts were longing for. And making the future peacefully cohabitate with the past.”

“A true angel, your Sissi. No wonder that Kronos had an affair with her. A Platonic one, since she died healthy. Now, can you catch up with Maxwell’s demon?”

He knocks once, scratches a bit with his pinky finger on the tablet and then, as a dark plume of vapor grows out of it, his palm blows it into my face. Bit taken by surprise, I flinch.

“Be cool, honey, it’s just a text, an excerpt from Wikipedia. Take your time and read it thoroughly. The words in orange are hyperlinks. Gently touch them and a target text will replace the present one.”

Oh my God, the text floats in thin air, with enough contrast to stand the sun light and give me a comfortable read.

“In 1867, James Clerk Maxwell introduced a now-famous thought experiment that highlighted the contrast between the statistical nature of entropy and the deterministic nature of the underlying physical processes. This experiment, known as Maxwell’s demon, consists of a hypothetical “demon” that guards a trapdoor between two containers filled with gases at equal temperatures. By allowing fast molecules through the trapdoor in only one direction and only slow molecules in the other direction, the demon raises the temperature of one gas and lowers the temperature of the other, apparently violating the Second Law.”

Sure, there have been piles of politics on the table of the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867.

Declassified rumors of the epoch add romance and charm to history.

Elisabeth was a personal advocate for Hungarian Count Gyula Andrássy, who also was rumored to be her lover. Whenever difficult negotiations broke off between the Hungarians and the court, they were resumed with her help. During these protracted dealings, Elisabeth suggested to the emperor that Andrássy be made the Premier of Hungary as part of a compromise, and in a forceful attempt to bring the two men together, strongly admonished her husband:

I have just had an interview with Andrássy. He set forth his views clearly and plainly. I quite understood them and arrived at the conclusion that if you would trust him – and trust him entirely – we might still be saved, not only Hungary, but the monarchy, too…. I can assure you that you are not dealing with a man desirous of playing a part at any price or striving for a position; on the contrary, he is risking his present position, which is a fine one. But approaching shipwreck, he, too, is prepared to do all in his power to save it; what he possesses – his understanding and influence in the country – he will lay at your feet. For the last time I beg you in Rudolf’s name not to lose this, at the last moment…

…If you say ‘No,’ if at the last moment you are no longer willing to listen to disinterested counsels. then… you will be relieved forever from my future… and nothing will remain to me but the consciousness that whatever may happen, I shall be able to say honestly to Rudolf one day; “I did everything in my power. Your misfortunes are not on my conscience.”

The Austro-Hungarian Compromise has been the closest political animal to a modern Europe for the Europeans, quite similar to a Swiss- or American-type of self-governing. But politics prove even more volatile than relativistic physics.

Fifty years later, the charms long gone to other dimensions, Germany puts Lenin in power.

“In the middle of April [1917] the Germans took a sombre decision. Ludendorff refers to it with bated breath. Full allowance must be made for the desperate stakes to which the German war leaders were already committed. They were in the mood which had opened unlimited submarine warfare with the certainty of bringing the United States into the war against them. Upon the Western front they had from the beginning used the most terrible means of offense at their disposal. They had employed poison gas on the largest scale and had invented the ‘Flammenwerfer.’ Nevertheless it was with a sense of awe that they turned upon Russia the most grisly of all weapons. They transported Lenin in a sealed truck like a plague bacillus from Switzerland into Russia.”

Winston S. Churchill
The World Crisis, Volume five.

One cannot control the red fire spreading throughout the woods, from all the Russias, across the German states, to multi-national Hungary. Unless, as a seasoned fireman would advise, one should start a new fire, a counter fire: the red-Nazi fire!

Go on, people, burn everything left and right, breed chaos and industrious death only to congratulate yourself for the reconstruction plans. After all, war is good for business.

South African President Cyril Ramaphosa has said the ruling African National Congress must initiate a parliamentary process to enshrine in the constitution a proposed amendment, paving the way for land grabs without compensation.

Ramaphosa, who vowed to return the lands owned by the white farmers since the 1600s to the country’s black population after he assumed office in February this year, said on Tuesday that the ANC would introduce a constitutional amendment in parliament.

“The ANC will through the parliamentary process finalize the proposed amendment to the constitution that outlines more clearly the conditions under which expropriation of land without compensation can be effected,” Ramaphosa, a prominent trade union leader and a close associate of Nelson Mandela, said in a televised address on Tuesday.

‘They want us all to leave’: South African farmer wants to move to Russia, change name to Ivan
Published time: 1 Aug, 2018 04:40

PRETORIA (Reuters) – Chinese President Xi Jinping promised $14.7 billion of investment on Tuesday during a state visit to South Africa, where President Cyril Ramaphosa is on a mission to kick-start economic growth after a decade of stagnation.

BUSINESS NEWS JULY 24, 2018 / 6:12 PM / 9 DAYS AGO

What a coincidence.

Nationalism and nihilism, those two ghosts of the nineteenth century haunting the jungles of the twenty-first. Business as usual.

By the way, backstaging: the plague bacillus, aka Lenin, according to Churchill, acts like an impersonal demon, like a colorless poison gas, like a borderless fire.

Imagine Saxony fifty years from now.

Photo by James Connolly on Unsplash

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