Based on the above-stated fragment from the report of a research democratic flotilla of space bombers of strategic tasks K52, I order to perform technological militaristic ownership in conformity with Makristan’s strategy by the following means:
1. Soft orbital bombardments of strategic communication objects of the enemy by using of thermonuclear arms and zero-particles generators.
2. Capture of the detected central settlement by assault groups of space infantrymen of K52 flotilla.
3. Deployment of the system of diplomatic and medical aid to the natives, who have suffered from "act of nature". Perform parallel ownership and control over leading Liberium mines along with deployment of military bases in their vicinities.
4. Maintenance of military-diplomatic control during the three-year period of Liberium’s mining.
The order is to carry out immediately at reception. The report on the done work is expected in 5 planetary days.
P.S.
It’s a question of strategic importance, G., any regret and uncertainty will become a potential hindrance, which contradicts with the high mission of our great Empire.
And may the Maker be with us !
28.09.2010
Plant louse
The Plant Louse gradually and unstoppably crept downhill a mountain.
The wind was blowing into her face, howling and as if begging to stop, the sun was mercilessly scorching her back, which has already become covered in scabs, here and there all of a sudden some holes-hollows of unknown origin were popping up. But she confidently continued her journey downwards – for there on the lowland, as it seemed, a paradise of eternal and lazy pleasure has been awaiting her. Her impetuous mind drove and pushed her forward – there, to the undiscovered downhill distances – and, methodically moving her legs, she obeyed her master and lord remorselessly.
Recently the Louse has dined with her own relative – dead, of course, - which she has found in a pool of blood, already warmed up by the scorching sun. Her comrade-in-arms by the absence of reason has been probably dying in agony, - some of his legs have been dead-burnt by a star and their ashes have already been swept by a wind, and some green viscous poisonous substance of inconceivable for the Louse nature has been flowing from his stomach. That’s why the Louse has disdained a substance – for only goodness knows, what lurks there, inside them, Louses, right ? – but semi blind eyes and some poor excuses of ears have appeared to be rather appetizing, as well as the remnants of brain, still not totally decayed. The Louse, probably, would not even touch the remains of her colleague, if not for that painful hunger, which has been torturing her during last days of a journey There. The Louse had not a slightest idea of why this unstoppable blood lust has suddenly arisen in her, but it has been growing and strengthening with each passing day. Truly hard is the burden of the chosen ones, trying to reach the true paradise, indeed.
It seemed, that very little efforts were required for now. Certainly, the Louse couldn’t view all the horizon of her path – only a small piece of it, still visible for her eternally bent head and weak-sighted eyes – but, nevertheless, it appeared to her that the paradise is almost there, just few more steps and then, finally …
From time to time the Louse dreamt of wings. Of those true wings, possessed by flying heavenly giants, whose shades she sometimes saw on the ground. Plant louses called those ones as Angels – Messengers of Heavens. Indeed, they had the possibility to behold their shades, their pity reflection only – but even this sight sometimes bewitched their poor excuses of souls … The Louse did never gazed into the Heavens – was simply incapable to do so soul-genetically, so to speak. Initially her relatives were terrified of these heavenly ambassadors, believing that they feed on them, Plant Louses, and can devour them, - but, as multi-thousand-year practice has shown, plant louses did not interest them, - were too tiny, probably… The Louse thirsted to fly – just simply stand up and soar to heavenly heights, to see all her way, to say so, from bird’s flight perspective. Once upon a time the Louse overheard with the edge of her semi-bitten off ear, that their ancient ancestors have had some semblance of tiny wings – and they even could fly up low from time to time, - as though in semi-jumps – but after that something has changed in their organisms, was broken – and since that times only rudiments of those former wings were left. And thus entire race of plant louses have forgotten how’s that – to fly …
The Louse masterfully continued the movement, methodically rolling her legs. She was, to say the least, sort of a champion – one of the best ones. Almost ninety percent of her relatives have died out, competing among themselves of who can crawl There before all others and make the first mark on this new land – but this very Louse confidently continued her journey. Some louses died from thirst, being unable to drink some turbid black slime, shining with all colors of a rainbow under the sun, which the Louse has encountered in the form of some small puddles, no doubt left by the Maker himself. The brain of others simply fused under the fiery sun. Some went completely blind, and started spinning round and round, plaintively cheeping in a vain hope to earn a small bit of sympathy from competing brothers. Someone broke several own legs and was devoured by his starved colleagues. Some became deaf and ceased to hear inviting shouts of their leaders in their common journey There, and, thus, hopelessly lagged behind. And some gave up on everything by wing, laid down on a burnt grass, closed his eyes and stiffened. To cut a long story short, were few worthy ones remained. And that Louse was one of those lucky.
The Louse has just finished eating newly found corpse of her comrade-in-luck, and was going to continue advancing as all of a sudden something has sharply and desperately changed in all her surroundings. Unknown huge and incomprehensible shadow covered the earth ground in all possible vicinity, something great and unstoppably has suddenly begun moving towards the Louse – and towards the entire race of plant louses, moving in ranks … something greatly dreadful for them, plant louses.
- Oh my, did He really exists ?! – the Louse has had a few moment of time left to think. – Oh, forgive us for our Lousy way of life ! – she urged to peep, but there was no more time left.
Someone has smashed the Louse and all her colleagues in a single step, thus finally and inevitably solving a question with a fate of all these … under-humans.
13.12.2010
Priest
Good health to all of ye, oh laymen!
Thus I have decided to address you in such a wonderful and marvelous way. For we, priests, you know, feel somewhat too boringly from time to time, that’s it. You go here and there to us in the crowds on festivals and public prayers, bow us up to over legs and kiss our white hands, yet you have almost no desire even to speak with us a bit. Maybe during only a confession – but do you believe that we do thirst for yet another tiresome monologue of that repugnant acts of yours? And deeds these of yours are sometimes so horrific, that we desire to curtail ears of ours into a tubule and to furiously hush on you – yet one has to suffer, listening to all that shitty rubbish, and to sigh sadly in the end of it, having once again saying that phrase intimate like a robot about the remission of sins of yours, for it all has been prepaid according to the pricelist by you already. And thus we can do no other but to listen to all that bullshit, pretending that it interests us up to exhaustion, while feeling boredom there, in that booth confessionary, especially for that purpose being dark and concealed, so that you cannot see expressions on the faces of ours.
Or, say, to all these corpses, in iron boxes by us collected and as relics by us named, you go and worship, for we once have dared to call them as sacred … you almost kiss them in these yours attacks ecstatic, and some of you even decided to speak with them, as if the dead ones could talk … and of us you didn’t remember as if we were not live at all and they were more live than us?
And it also happens sometimes that some layman arrives, forms on public prayers on all his family up to the tenth generation having filled silently and gloomy, and throws
them in hands after having paid according to the pricelist in a cash desk … and we have no better thing than to pray either for a health or resting in peace of their souls in that services of ours, as if we know clearly of what sort of people in mentioned in form of these – possibly, some truly disgusting ones? And so we have to pray for the ones we know nothing about for the purpose we know all about – for the sake of gold, surely … for what is the other reason to make a prayer cost money?
And even more nasty parishioners do appear from time to time – they silently enter our temple, insert bought from the third parties candles in our candlesticks and light them up … and they are doing all of this so quietly and mournfully, being afraid to utter even a single word, so that a strange feeling sometimes overwhelms me that this temple is not a house of God at all, but truly resembles some sort of cellar or a cemetery … oh, horrific! Myself I am being frightened by that thought, but can do nothing, for such are the orthodox canons of behaving in these churches of ours. And if someone dares to violate these rules invented by us – either dress himself somewhat differently, or sing something strange – publicly curse him will we, faith of ours and morals thus protecting, may he bear no doubt of that!
And so here it comes out that we, churchmen, have already become sort of robots to you, and cannot we exchange the word live and salutary with ye. And if it comes out that you bear a desire to talk with us in a personal conversation – then of you, our ill ones, have we to talk entirely, edifying you constantly as necessary! Oh, what a difficult business is that – to lay out councils and spit out advices. It happens that one of you comes to one of us and, you know, starts to be grooved – here’s something is wrong in his life, there something is not right is his life once again, and thus he totally misses and lacks something based on his endless desires. And here we must sit, listening to you, or even worse standing still like a monument, inventing advices on the fly. And what advices can we lend ye, if we know both you and your situation only superficially? And thus we are forced to give you advices general, universal, by the time itself proven, - to come and visit our church once again, to buy yet another candle from our hands, to order a monthly public prayer (it’s possible to order one-time prayers as well, but no so greatly effective they are, for they are too cheap in a money equivalent, ye know). And so you can become so tired from these monologues monotonous and advices identical, that to howl on a moon you desire only, thanks God that it’s invisible during the afternoon.
And after all we too sometimes desire to express ourselves, to expose the souls of ours and torments of conscience of ours to you, brother laymen! And wanted I to confess once, but then thought that inappropriate it would be for me, almost holy one, to confess before the very same priest, realizing clearly with what attitude will he listen to these inflaming speeches of mine coldly and indifferently. And thus have decided I to expose that my soul before you without any hesitation, oh my beloved laymen, my gold-bringing lambs, my humiliated and offended. And what should I hesitate and be afraid of, you will ask me, if I am going to tell you a little bit more of myself and stop right there, never going too deep into all those unworthy nasty details? And then I will simply absolve my own sins, thus becoming pure once again … it’s that easy, after all.
And I am going to begin with my preparation for entering of a spiritual seminary. Believe me or not at all, but have truly lacked I any serious diligence from the very childhood, as well as a desire to work hard and long. Liked I greatly to sleep for twelve hours or so, and to luxuriate at the table, having stuffed my stomach with all sort of delightful delicacies. And haven’t I developed any useful abilities or skills during the time of my boyish years, cause didn’t see I any sense in such sort of things – for only one live do we live, and may a flood wash them all astray afterwards!
And so, when the time has come for me to decide my future way, my father advised me to enter a spiritual seminary to become a God’s person, or so to speak. Work, he said, is not a wolf, would not howl from a grief on a moon, and besides it’s a stable source of income, especially if at due time one manages to become a head of own church, that’s it. Know only how to perform church services, carry out rituals, chide public prayers and talk with parishioners pro forma from time to time, taking sympathizing and merciful sight. To convince before you here must I, that not so greatly did I believe in that God, the Maker of us, but whether it was truly necessary in order to execute some dumb rituals and learn several prayers by heart? Every monkey imaginable will easily handle that task mentioned !
And so, well, have I rushed into a whirlpool with all my head – it doesn’t take you too much time with a desire, you know. Have educated myself, not showing my inner disbelief, and was assigned as the assistant to a prior of a local temple for my successes considerable. And successes of mine on that field were truly oh-so-great, so that I couldn’t help admiring myself, to speak nothing of the attitude of my parents. Have I learned by heart somewhat about thirty prayers, having not clearly understanding it’s meaning, however, - but who is going to understand them if they are written in the out-of-date language, not these fanatical laymen, really? Was able I as well to find quickly quotes necessary in writings sacred, and explain effortlessly why Orthodoxy ours is so much better than all these devilish religions, these sectarians Catholic, Protestant and Buddhist homebrewed. Biographies of our sacred ones in general I have memorized well so that to impress people with their deeds both just and unjust, and even more to impress them with a quantity of these sacred ones canonized than with deeds of theirs, - for the more religion of yours have affirmed holy ones, the more powerful it becomes in the eyes of its followers, yeah? Well, a good priest must I have become, confessionally professional and religiously resistant.
And remember do I that once upon a time, while I was serving under the command of my brother-in-church, my prior, this hellish demon, at the back and call like a stepson, some young maiden have come to our temple. Oh, wonderful was that maiden by her look and proportion, so that I was almost losing my mind! She was about seventeen years old only, but was ruddy like the ride apple, with breast large and attracting and face of an angel. And she was speaking, as far as I could remember, that she have become orphan recently, and decided she to turn to the God for the remaining lifespan, and thus she have come to us to become a nun in our humble temple. Such a silly human flesh, - I thought that time, - decided that the very God is living here with us … would He even care to listen to us, traders unscrupulous, for even in the previous time decided He to banish all us with a whip instead. But I, certainly, showed no sign, for too painfully beautiful was this young girl. And thus we, well, accepted her into our monastery by my advice to the prior. And that advice did give I with an ulterior motive, indeed – gradually, from the very first day have I started to cajole her, attaching to the sanctity of our church. And both a prayer aloud did I read to her, flaunting, and candles for her on the first floor in the evening did I lit for a bigger romanticism, and tried both this and that approach, and still I wasn’t favored. Have been longing she during days and evenings in that home of ours, grieving of something personal and far, unknown to me, and by all signs was it obvious that this place was weighting her, and haven’t she found here something she has been looking for, and might she leave us forever soon enough. And from desire my unfulfilled performed I the act desperate – into her private cell during the nighttime I rushed, her door with my keys having unlocked, and threw her on the bed, and jumped on her, being consumed by my burning desire. Wanted she to shout and call for help at first moments, but skillfully did I make her mouth shut with my hand, while deed of mine quickly performing. And didn’t that maiden manage to made even a single peek, and ceased to resist soon enough totally. And, leaving, threatened I her that would we separate her from the sacred church of ours if she decides to tell anyone of what has just taken place here, and will we scold her publicly as the one who have turned away from the God, and so greatly will we abuse and scold her,
that even her parents who are resting in peace in the other world, to us unknown, will be frightened. Reconciled this maiden and nothing did she say in reply to these threats of mine – only on the following day have we found her hung up on a linen rope in the cell. Surely, silent like a death was I and told nothing, and even if I did – would commoners twist fingers only and grin, having not believed in that. Sort of sacred have we become in the eyes of these fools, innocent. Well, and this is probably for the best. Oh, and you should know as well that the prior of our temple was soon dismissed from the service for that awfully accident, due to his oversight which has occurred, so as his second hand soon I have occupied his place and have taken all his privileges … quite skillfully, right? Ways are inscrutable, or so they say.
So, I have known neither a grief, nor cares, nor need since these days. Recently I have even though up an ingenious plan – to start producing temples inflatable, rubber. So that a procession can come into a new place to all these unholy non-Christian laymen, inflate that temple here on the spot quickly and effortlessly for a week, and then christen them all, and pray for forgiveness of their sins, and read the burial service for all, and bless all and damn everyone out there. Oh, faith our inflatable, to what ideas can a cunning human mind once come! And for that idea mentioned, should I note, by the higher church ranks I have been granted holy permission to wash cars of parishioners with a holy water for symbolic dues. Recently I even learned the art of banishing demons from these very gold-bringing parishioners, and such a simple procedure it appeared to be in practice : at first declare you someone terribly afflicted and a spawn of the devil, no less, and everyone jump then away from him in a fear and start christening, and fearing him like as if he is infected with pestilence, so that he even cannot say something in his defense, - and after that you start performing all sorts of “exorcism” rituals upon him, improvising until you get bored … both a honor and authority to your temple and a feeling of relief to the under-possessed! So that business of mine now grows and spreads, not by days, but by parishioners, as they say. Recently, for example, we have forbidden our poor sheep to bring candles along with them, no figs given! Let they buy our ones from a local factory three times more the cost, if they dare to pretend oh-so-believing. Faugh, contemptible ones!
On the Wings of Hope : Prose Page 26
