Goodly Godly Determinism

The miserable mizzle speckled his glints to the point that he took them off, wiped them, and replaced them with blinders. Daft mischief his. He tramped the Spanish plantations by feelies.

Nowhere but here. Actually not here, but on the plains beyond the western ridge there. It rains there all the time. Mainly does. Manly he. A man moving drizzle by touch. Arms all zombie-like and such. What gives?

His lack of documentation. Lamentable. His will. Insurmountable. At the decanter of Franco — where he laid paternalistic hands on the sign prohibiting access to the tomb — hands like missed exhortations to national unity and sacrifice. Really, more like a soliloquy of the soft white underbelly pinned by a jackboot. He pined for the days of Conquistadors. The vapors of dichotomies. The nights of haves and have nots. The age of MEN.

Oh, the grand days of Tordesillas — halcyon ecstasy. One might say erotic. He thought so, anyway, stumbling and bumbling blind through the country. The days of take what you want ‘cause you can. Come back!

These are just a bunch of lollygaggers not using what was granted to the strong and audacious. So we take it by force and indenture — the hoi polloi can’t do a thing to change the outcome. This was goodly godly determinism. 

He trudged, woebegone and misbegotten — a wanktankerous lech (you should have seen him) — waiting for the boat to a new world made by the strongman reprised. There he waited by the riotous poppies, still blinkered, for the clarion call to put his boot to use. 

What I’m Reading:

There will be no curiosity, no enjoyment of the process of life. All competing pleasures will be destroyed. But always— do not forget this, Winston— always there will be the intoxication of power, constantly increasing and constantly growing subtler. Always, at every moment, there will be the thrill of victory, the sensation of trampling on an enemy who is helpless.

If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face— forever.

— George Orwell / 1984