Fatalism vs. Knowledge

Evolution/Involution is determined by the sequences of events in a person's life.
These events are a like a chain formed by Cause - Effect - Cause and have their rings tied by past and future Causes, whereas the Effect is always the Present.
It is to say that NOW, we are all under the Effect of a PAST Cause, and according to our "ambitions", we are planning the FUTURE Cause of an even more distant and glorious Effect, and so on.
Let us imagine that this chain is tied around God's ankle, as primordial cause.
The more we understand what we experience, the further and faster we create new rings, prolonging our chain, like a dog to whom his master grants more freedom.
And like a dog, if we go round and about, we entangle our chain.
The ability to manipulate Causes to a calculated future Effect is a virtue only exercised by the non-fatalists.
The fatalists are weak, without any desire to control their environment and consequently, incapable of ruling others.
"Learning" actually means gaining the ability to manipulate the Causes and Effects, further increasing one's desire to control the "world" and thus, all things which exist in it.
Error of judgement of a weakling, leads to remorse or even mourning, the fatalist ends up invoking fate and tangles the chain to the point where he is crushed by the sole of God.

In case of an error of judgement, the strong individual will use the negative effect of the initial cause to create another cause which proceeds a more positive effect, prolonging the chain nearly up to freedom.

Form of from

9.In the beginning there were 9 demons inside a crystal globe with an unbreakable outer layer.
8.They were predisposed to the understanding that the time that had passed is the time that remained.
7.They shattered the fragile inside of the globe into pieces, each of them creating his own labyrinth.
6.The layer was always coloured so the globe was still as an unbreakable mass from the outside
5.The paths of the labyrinths were getting more complicated the more one would dare to go forward.
4.But the labyrinths were one day destroyed by some simple words which came unexpectedly.
3.Seven of the demons were crushed by the walls of the their labyrinths which then each became a circle.
2.The last two demons remaining, were looking deep into each other's eyes.
1.One of them was the creator of the globe

Novus York Rex Ratus

Rex Ratus
della citta Novus Yorkus

  The king of the New York rats was having a nervous breakdown. Over the past few days he was loosing all his chess games, and his whiskers were not curly any more. Out of 15 does which were nightly in his dormitory, only Reba and Elinor were visiting now. It had been a week since the water was not leaking from the pipes and the king declared that "it is the rightful judgement of The Great Punisher, ye non-believers!" Over his land came famine, opinions, then difference of opinions, while the kingdom became dry and barren. There was word that a big plot was forming against the king, who, in spite of the spies sent to the above, refused to believe that the Great Punisher was about to start a chemical war against all the ratkind.
   Moreover, his officers, in charge with the security of the east sewers were suspected of treason and of plotting against the Kingdom. To this last rumour, the king was told to give little credit, since it was spread by Fattisov, notorious for his lies, miracle faking and misleads. He had once declared that he has the ability of night binocular vision for 12 hours in a row, and the other 12 hours he could travel in the past. He was charging 4 grains of wheat for a message sent to a dead relative or friend(who was still living in the past) and an extra 7 grains for the answer. This is how he could be appointed as the kings's advisor, a few days ago, when he paid down the 1.200 grains of wheat required for the position. Fattisov was still a young rat, he lived just one cold season, and being a well fed citizen, in a high position, he could hope for at least another two.
  The king however, being recently overwhelmed by a series of misfortunes, bad news and complaints (the latter, mostly because of the newest gained right to opinions), took Fattisov seriously and started writing a call to arms, in this manner:

" Before reading this, I urge you to gather in groups of 600, include 400 illiteRats in your group, read aloud and instruct illiteRats that when you raise your paw, you should all shout "hurray!!" in one voice, 3 times with half a second pause in between.

My beloved loyal Rats,

We find ourselves in a time of great concern, when our Great Punisher seems to give us the hardest test yet. It is now that I call upon the noble spirits of this kingdom, to sharpen your claws and write a golden destiny for all Ratkind! (raise paw!).
It has come to my attention that the rats of East Side sewer (may the snakes constrict 'round them!) have started a rebellion against our fair kingdom. They are many, but we are more! (raise paw!) Their leader, my formally appointed officer, Zeld, is no longer a son of mine! His betrayal knows no limits, because his honesty was never tested, until our peace was shattered. There is proof that he is responsible for the isolation of the pipes in our kingdom. Our spies saw him taking maps with the locations of the broken pipes to the above. But the devil erased the east side locations!! I have no doubt that this is the reason why only our oasis was destroyed and our environment became so hostile, while the east side is untouched! Our 26 forefathers who bravely descended down here, had a belief, a hope for all Ratkind to thrive and become rulers of the underground! We are the ones who they referred to! (raise paw!)
My message is clear: go forth and destroy everything moving in the East Side, so that my coming will be greeted only by my loyal rats! You shall attack at dawn! (raise paw!) "

When Zeld got word of the recent development of the situation, he was busy with the does which deserted the king, and the disturbing news brutally awakened him. He knew there was little time to make a decision: first options that came to mind were, either flee to Manhattan sewers or gather his army against his father, the king. It wasn't easy...the pipes in his domain were still cracked and resources were plenty, but keeping this fortune wasn't going to prove itself easy. His instinct of self preservation was greater than the ambition of ruling, but suddenly, an idea came to him that promised to satisfy the greed, as well as to grant his safety. He hid himself in a crack of the wall, asked not to be disturbed, and when he came out, his front teeth, were visible up to the gums and his eyes had an evil shine that betrayed self satisfaction and confidence.

"Get me Kassandra and Trixie! Right away!" he shouted!
In a few moments, the does were before Zeld, smiling gently and with their eyes filled with servitude. They used to share the king's dormitory not long ago, but after the isolation of the pipes they betrayed him and fled to the East side to declare their loyalty to Zeld, who was now their resourceful, trusted benefactor.
"Kasandra, you will return to the king!" Zeld said. "And you will spend the night with him.You will tell him that you have finally decided to give him an offspring and that you never went with the others to my bedroom, but went away only to spy on me for him, hiding in the east-side pipes. The king loves you most, so he will believe it. When he will ask you in, you will say that I discovered a magic pill that I brought from above and that you have seen with your own eyes how this pill can make one stronger and younger. You will tell him that all my elder soldiers are now young and powerful and the young ones, became super-rats. Beg him not to go to war with me, lest he will loose it all, but advise him to take his time, postpone his campaign and get these pills himself, or that otherwise he doesn't stand a chance. You will then tell him that you know where we store them and that you will lead him there, during the night, when there are no guards" Kassandra bowed.
Then Zeld went on addressing Trixie :
"Trixie, your mission is to seduce Fattisov. He has never had a doe, so it should be easy. I don't think he knows you, as he has been the royal advisor for just a few days, but you should come back as soon as he's asleep, 'cause the king will get suspicious if he sees both you and Kassandra having returned at the same time. Keep your whiskers down on the ground, pretending to be hungry and looking for food. That way you will blend in with the others.You should sneak in his dormitory after Kassandra will have been invited in. You will also tell Fattisov of the pill, in the exact same manner,maybe exaggerate a bit. Tell him that your brother, from the east-side, broke his vow of silence and gave you this information in a letter. Convince him that your brother can now walk on the ceilings and can lift a full bag of grains without a sweat. So when Fattisov will wake up, he will crawl before the king, humble, pretending that he got incredible news from his valued spies - he will not dare to say he learned this from the concubine he had in his dormitory last night, lest he should ruin his credibility and go against the status of an advisor." To this, Trixie nodded and bowed with a grin

"Katan", Zeld went on, "you are in charge of getting the rat poison pills to the exit hole between the east and west side territories! Hide them under some pebbles in bags of 20 pieces and brand them with a tag which says "Invincible"! Haaahahaha! On the prescription, we will write that only half is enough to multiply the strenght of a warrior by ten. If all works out as planned, out of 100.000 soldiers of the king, at least 40.000, including the king, will take a sufficient dose to ensure our victory!"
Katan asked for no further explaining, then took a few of his subalterns with him, and accompanied by Kassandra and Trixie, they went on to the store to relocate the rat poison pills.

Everything worked out as planned, as it so happened that these pills were unknown to the west side society, merely because their citizens were not allowed to leave the underground (by strict orders of the king) lest they should be drowned, as many others before, following the urge to gnaw on the book of the Great Punisher with the terrible torch and crown on her head.

The end

Saved as

Intr-o  zi, in plina vara, un clovn imbracat strident, statea rezemat in cot si privea spre linia orizontului de amurg dintr-un lan de secara coapta. Ultimele albine plecasera de mult, iar zgomotele greierilor incepusera sa ii izbeasca in timpane ca un metronom, in pulsatia caruia, gandurile ii erau chemate si alungate. Cu ochii stransi, isi imagina zeci de sageti de mouse ingramadindu-se in jurul unui punct imaginar unde se incarcau cu intentii soptite. Nu era nebun, fiindca stia cum sa faca vocile sa taca, doar ca singuratatea il facea sa fie un mare las. Cu un efort de concentrare sustinut, se orientase pe o singura sageata, dadu un click dreapta si reusise sa inchida pagina. Liniste, intuneric, pustiu, imens pustiu, de necuprins, iar cand cuprins, cuprins in intuneric.

 Dorinta de a striga, ramasese doar o intentie care, in mintea lui se consumase... si cum se consumase: volumul strigaturii fusese intentionat ascendent, dar se auzea descendent, fiind mai incet cu cat striga mai tare, iar in apogeu se auzi ca ultima replica a unui ecou. Asa ca renuntase sa mai strige, cautandu-si sagetile cu ochii stransi... iata ca aparu una alba. Cu un click dreapta, vazu optiunile, dar ii fu frica sa selecteze "close page", asa ca alesese "Save Image As" si ajunsese in partitia D, unde dadu un nou click dublu pe un oras ce se anima, secunda cu secunda cu oameni ca pareau sa il observe cand treceau pe langa el.

Chiar isi izbise umarul de o femeie frumoasa, care  il privi mirata, iar el o lovi cu pumnul in spate fara ca trecatorii sa observe. Se oprise in fata vitrinei celei mai apropiate si se vazu curat, barbierit, pieptanat, imbracat ca la oras, cu o servieta in mana stanga (pe care o tinea foarte strans) si isi dadu seama ca stie directia pe care trebuie sa o ia. Incepuse sa fuga si pasii ii devenisera mai mari, sariti, pana cand observa ranjind ca fugea pe capurile localnicilor, mototolind palariile damelor cochete, lunecand pe perucile varsnicilor si sarind peste copiii mici, ca sa nu se impiedice din pricina diferentei de nivel. Un barbat ce purta un tricou pe care scria "am 39 de ani", fusese ales pentru aterizare. Ii sari cu mainile in gat si acesta, sub greutatea poverii cazute de nicaieri, fusese trantit cu fata pe asfalt, dar nu murise, ci spusese "multumesc". Ii semna tricoul si se ridica privindu-si mana stanga, unde mai tinea inca servieta. Incerca sa o lase, degetele inclestate refuzau sa il asculte. "Dar am ajuns!" isi spusese, apoi isi cauta in buzunarul interior un cutit de 38 de cm cu care isi taie mana. Servieta se deschise cu combinatia 0390 si inautru gasi o poza cu o mana taiata si un aparat foto. Facuse poza si apoi, vazu ca in poza din servieta, mana fusese inlocuita cu o alta, ce imortalizase o femeie ce lua cina, zambind de partea celalta a unei lumanari. Dublu click si simti gustul carnii de caprioara, dar isi zdrobi dintii intr-o alice. Iesi repede pe usa care se deschise singura si acoperindu-si gura cu ambele maini, fugise in fata oglinzii. Acolo, sufla ca sa abureasca oglinda, iar dupa ce o sterse cu o carpa, dintii se refacusera. Era complet dezbracat si foarte batran si asa se intoarse la femeia ce il astepta la masa zambind la fel. "Terminam imediat" spuse ea, taind urechile caprioarei cu o lama murdara de par si spuma de ras. Incepu sa mestece urechea si auzi padurea fosnind; se ridica in coate pe covorul de frunze umede ca sa priveasca in jur. Deslusi o poienita si se ridica ca sa se indrepte inspre acolo; descult, aduna frunzele intre degetele picioarelor, iar picioarele deveneau tot mai mari si cuprindeau tot mai multe frunze, care se adunasera in fata lui ca un zid pe care trebuia sa-l impinga. Pipaise zidul si simti o clanta. O apasa si intra in Iad, unde o holograma a lui Satan, il implora cu o voce ce trada extenuarea, sa-l ucida pe Durante Aligheri. Ii dadu o harta marcata cu locatia curenta poetului, o faclie vesnica si un mouse cu 7 clickuri. Aligheri scria...era intors cu spatele si parea sa si vorbeasca in acelasi timp, atat de concentrat incat nu-l observa cautandu-i prin sertare. Ii gasi toate lucrarile si le dadu foc, timp in care Durante scria... apoi, cu mouse-ul se folosi de patru clickuri ca sa incarce imaginea in paint si sa ii stearga capul lui Aligheri. Ramasesera foile pe care poetul tocmai le scrisese la masa de lucru, asa ca incepu sa le mestece si le inghiti dupa un timp. Atunci, peste flacara vesnica incepu sa curga un siroi de apa din tavanul spart, iar aceasta se stinse. Disparuse apoi si mouse-ul si harta, iar el deschise usa ca sa iasa si cazu cu ochii stransi. Se izbi de pamant, dar il sparsese si cazu din nou si din nou prin tot mai multe straturi de pamant, pana cand ceva ii prinsese piciorul. Cu capul in jos, isi intinse mainile si simti podeaua. Statea in maini cu fata la perete si se arcui sa-si aseze picioarele. Apoi se lasa pe spate si vazu ca din tavan coborau paianjeni rosii, care ii atingeau fata rand pe rand si apoi urcau grabit pe  panza si fugeau sa se ingramadeasca in coltul tavanului. O femeie goala deschise usa camerei si il pofti politicos sa iasa, iar el facuse intocmai. Afara, vazu un pod suspendat ce se pierdea in ceata. Incepu sa-l treaca, iar cand se uita in jos, isi vazu imediat propriul cap privindu-l din abis. Se speriase atat de tare incat isi smulsese inima si o arunca in gura larg deschisa.

 Atunci pasii ii devenisera siguri iar el inainta pe pod fara sa-l faca sa se legene. Hotari sa treaca podul privind spre cer ca sa nu-si vada inima mestecata in abis. Dar si acolo, in cer, era tot capul lui care ii lasa inima dintre dinti sa cada in gura-i cascata, iar el o inghiti si aceasta i se poticni, muscata, din nou in piept. Il durea acum. Pasii ii devenisera nesiguri si podul se clatina, dar odata cu el se clatina tot orizontul si el ametea, ramanand in echilibru. Deodata, isi dadu seama ca nu poate fi si nu va mai putea fi altundeva decat in singura imagine caruia ii daduse "Save as"

Spectatorul fluierator

Cazaturile lor se auzeau pocnind si bubuind pe o asperitate indistincta, precum un bec voluminos facandu-se tandari. Jos, se formase o masa de cioburi care oglindeau franturi de cer nocturn; stele insinuate prin cupola demontata, loveau echilibristii prin unghiuri de refractie ce ii trezeau si ii faceau sa-si piarda echibibrul; apoi, o alta pocnitura facea ca oglindirea stelelor sa fie si mai mult cuprinsa in cioburi. Nu mai erau multi somnambuli in echilibru, iar cei care inca se plimbau, erau huiduiti zgomotos de spectator.Era iritat pentru ca procesiunea dura deja prea mult... contopirea trebuia completata ca de fiecare data pentru ca spectatorul sa se intoarca in pat, la somn. De data aceasta insa, un echilibrist, mai balansat decat oricare altul inaintea lui, se trezise si nu cazuse de pe sarma. Mergea inainte si pas cu pas se apropia tot mai mult de scara, in fluieraturile descumpanite ale spectatorului. Un echilibrist traieste, echilibristul care traieste, viata echilibristului mentinuta in echilibru de trairea si viata echilibristului celebral, care cand ajunge la scara, priveste in sus si zboara spre stele. Privind in urma, observa cupola circului inchizandu-se cu un acoperis sferic pe care scrie “Teatrul Circ”

"M-am trezit mai repede decat lumina cu gandurile-mi somnambule facand echilibristica pe dendrite straine" 

  

Ultima poza din viata fara de scop a unei tatzoase fara scrupule

  Intr-o zi, tatzoasa fara scrupule se trezi cu un fel de pojar. Nu stia nimic despre aceasta boala, simtea ca nu e drept... Nici ca isi deschisese ochii si simti ca fatza ii era plina de bube si iritatii. Se panicase si fugi cat o tineau calcaiele la oglinda din baie. Un strigat ascutit, robinetul incepu sa curga si ea incepu sa scuipe in chiuveta ca si cum ar fi vrut sa se lepede de infectie... Apoi, deodata o superstitie puse stapanire pe ea cu o putere covarsitoare: Dumnezeu intr-adevar pedepseste!
 Si vru sa se salveze... asa incepuse sa-si aminteasca toate lucrurile bune pe care le facuse, hasurand cu gandul peste toata ocara, barfa si minciuna. Simtise ca a reusit sa deseneze o pisicuta alba de cateva saptamani, care se plimba dragalas si neindemanatic pe un fundal roz cu violet deschis. O admira cu constiinta adormita, si crezu ca inimii ii cresc ochi de Nefertiti; dar apoi aparu o pereche de ochelari de soare, oglindindu-se intr-o balta in fata careia pisicuta se poticnise, fiindu-i frica s-o treaca.
  Si-atunci inima isi stranse ochii, pisicuta si fundalul roz-violet se pierdeau in micimea infinita a zarii, cu fiecare pas al pisicutei. "Stai pisicuto, nu pleca din inima mea!"; dar pisica nu se mai intoarse, continuandu-si mersul dragalas tot mai departe, in zare. In urma animatiei hasurate, ramasese loc pentru un poster urias "Viata fara de scop a unei tatzoase fara scrupule". Tatzoasa isi scutura capul, dar nu reusi decat sa blureze putin literele, care mai apoi se distingeau la fel de clar.
  Neavand ce face, incepu sa se uite la pozele ce se derulau sub titlu. Simtea ca mancarimile erau mai puternice de fiecare data cand pozele aminteau de rautatile fara scop care devenisera un reflex zilnic, necontrolat. Imaginile o prezentau pe ea, tzatoasa fara scrupule, ranjind si soptind ceva intr-o ureche neatasata de nimic. Tintele defaimarilor si barfelor ei ii aratau pozele mari si inramate si inganau "scarpina-te, da, scarpina-te!" intr-un tumult de voci soptite. Era o amestecatura a soaptelor din pozele deja vazute, cu pozele care inca nu fusesera aratate si cu cele ce inca nu au fost pozate... Tatzoasa auzea voci de musuroi, de nori de praf, de pietre de moara, de traznete, de fete de varsta ei, de muzica si note, de filme si CH4, de viitori fetusi ce sclipeau in ochii copilasului privind-o din bratele unei femei grase cu aparenta inestetica.  
  Formase numarul mamei ei, dar cand vru sa apese butonul verde, raspunsese fara sa vrea unui apel venit de la un numar ciudat, pe care nu avusese timp sa-l distinga. "Alo?" si vocea spuse imperativ "Kratzen sollst du dich, kratzen!!!" Incepu atunci sa simta ca mancarimea nu mai poate fi astamparata decat cu scarpinaturi foarte apasate. Unghiile i se inveleau si amestecau cu pielea tenului, fruntea ii era brazdata de zgaraieturi curgandu-i sangeriu din sprancene peste ochii mari si mirati; tzipa tzatoasa fara scrupule si tzipatele ei erau drepte.
   Durerea de sub care se nasteau alte mancarimi, sub care era alta durere, sub care erau alte mancarimi, nu mai putea sa fie acoperita cu nicio animatie hasurata, inima cu ochii scosi tremura intr-un coltz interior al cosului din piept, unde simtea o mancarime inca si mai puternica. Cu o mana continua sa-si scarpine fatza, iar cu cealalta incepuse se-si zgarie tare tzatza, in cautarea inimii fricoase.
   "Astamparati-va, astampara-v-as, astamparati-ma, scarpinati-ma mai bine, mai tare!!" urla ea cu unghiile mainii stangi adanc infipte in limfa fetzei curgand in mici bucatzele.
 
Vazu penultima poza. Urechea in care soptea era despicata din propriul ei cap, iar ea vedea in oglinda a carei rama o tinea cu ambele maini cum isi mutilase chipul. Auzea inima amortita cu ochii scosi batand infricata sub coastele pe care le ajunsese cu unghiile, sub tzatza tzatoasei fara scrupule.

slow mo' punch in the balls

If u don't leave your country...your country will leave you...


Humanitarian or evolutionist? First one is just a mask if we are to observe manipulation from the times of early Christianity to the latest political doctrines and social movements.
Evolution on the other hand, has left children dying, mothers crying, fathers hanging themselves and old people drowned in the mud. Still, while evolution is seemingly endless, humanitarian/ethic causes are limited and already defined in the time of Platon and then, Aristotel - the reference for all philosophical religious doctrines for more than 1500 years.

The labour migration is a perfect modern replica of the ancient migrations. 
money or climate, they both have to do with survival and food. And if we are to compare the two Roman Empires with EU and USA, I would say they will have to face the same fate... let's see who falls first. Most would say that Europe cause it is chaotic, lacking a certain identity and because there are more than one Trojan horses inside its monetary systems. And IMF is the new Pope...

It is ironic how things turn... Roman Empire has destroyed the Greek civilization and after more than 2 thousand years, the offspring nation of those brilliant ancient Greek thinkers takes revenge on the new EU- children of the ex- Roman Empire.