rlbourges

Fiction as Fact, Fact as Fiction

In Current reading, Hautvoir, Local projects, proto drafts, Sanford Meisner on September 22, 2015 at 7:52 am

The woman’s posts are some of the stranger mixes I find when I visit my Facebook page. A few years ago, I’d have deleted her messages (Out of My Sight! Banished! Cease to Exist!) I don’t do many impersonations of the Wonderland Queen of Hearts anymore. For one, I find some of those strange mixes fascinating. For fictional purposes they serve the same purpose as the burr under the saddle.

The woman’s posts then: a mix of rants against the barbarians massing at our gates. The kind of astounding stuff that leads you to believe we (i.e. the ones who believe humane treatment applies as a ground rule, whether you want a person as a close buddy or not) we, then, by our attitude, incite people to flee their bombed out homes and mass at our gates.

In itself, a cause for wonderment. But wait! There’s more. Mixed in with these rants, public avowals of undying affection for her children (to each his own, some people feel the need to hire planes with I Love You banners, who am I to judge). And inspirational ditties culled from the Wisdom of the Ages.

These ditties usually come on a background of a golden sunset or a clear mountain stream and remind me of the holy images we children collected in our Catholic schools. On them, winged angels guided the stumbling steps of little bitty orphans crossing a chasm on a rotten plank of wood. These were supposed to inspire since the Winged One protected the bitty ones but you had to wonder what would happen at the fateful moment of The Crumpling.

At any rate, in these demented times when soldiers are ordered to shoot (without intention to kill) on masses of people searching for a spot to rest their weary selves, I find the woman’s Facebook offerings inspirational in unintended ways.

For those not following international news: Hungarian Prime Minister Victor Orban has authorized troops to shoot at “migrants” with real bullets, conditional on the shots being “non-lethal”. From which I assume smashed kneecaps, destroyed shoulders or a trampling death from a panicked crowd of civilians are part of normal business-as-usual military operations.

We now pause to deal with the day and whatever more fiction it inspires.

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