When the democratic debate concerns equal rights or other boring topics, elected members of Parliament, National Assembly or other such body stand out like lone flies on an ice floe. But up the ante to cries of war? They all show up for work and their main concern becomes who’s best suited to call out the planes and clamp down on anything or anyone who doesn’t march to the rightful step.
I’d love to believe atavistic behaviors can be avoided – you know, all of us earthlings experiencing a sudden flowering of higher consciousness in our befuddled masses and our befuddled leaders. I see no evidence of this as a massive trend. Nor do I expect our champions to challenge their opponents to tickling matches (first one who laughs, wins. In fact, if you collapse in helpless giggles before entering the ring, you earn the triple crown.)
But oh, the gusto, the palpable relief at turning The Sky Is Falling into a reality – for many, at least. As someone or other said: the opportunity at last for a session of Play Station with real blood.
Uneasy times for anyone who doesn’t choose a camp and follow the script handed out with the Talking Points. They have guns, We must have them too. Plus bombs, plus fighter planes, plus, etc.
I liked the letter of a Literature and Theater teacher to his class, published yesterday on one of the blogs at Mediapart. Especially when he writes “…défenseurs du minuscule, il nous faut rester modestes.” (Defendors of the minuscule, we must remain modest). The text is in French. If someone can translate it for you, so much the better.
Revision: I set the fictional story in a specific time frame. How real life will modify (or won’t) the final section of the story, I don’t know yet. I hope to finish the word-by-word revision of Part 1 this morning.