Great is the hand that holds dominion over Man by a scribbled name
Hands have no tears to flow.
Nations gather in the Middle East, increase military presence, and Israel is confident. Israel is very confident it can win any local war not involving Russia or China due to the the presence of the “Allies.” Instead in a simulation of total war, perhaps including atomic weapons used in regional warfare, evidently the overall expectation is warfare correctly conducted will not eradicate the State of Israel. War might expand the Occupation and claim more buffer space from Syria and Lebanon. Peace is on all lips. Salvation of Israel comes first. Israel as not simply another nation state, but a privileged nation state.
This however is really a side show.
After Covid tyranny in 2020 (which remains watchfully waiting) and prior to 2020 is the actual issue. The totalitarian power grab is old Globally. Alexander wanted to to rule the world and consulted with his tutor Aristotle about accomplishing it. Fast forward to the world of today. In our NOW there is a criminal and technocratic world BLOB. This is ownership concentration of Capital. Where say 5 money managing funds owned by one another and black money have market domination. The BLOB is like phases of water but different as the phase form fights for supremacy. The manifestations of forms confuse us-gas, liquid, ice, fog, in cells, or dry ice. Each demanding recognition as #1.
This is the blob. Primitive as yet. Slime mold level. And slime molds are in fact quite remarkable as science has demonstrated. https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/article/slime-mold-smart-brainless-cognition/
I write science fiction. I read science fiction mostly until I lost interest in college by my majoring in multiple subjects on the 12 year plan, dropping out for a while then deciding to go back to college for two degrees. Now of course the genre is mainstream. No one will say Ursula K. LeGuin, a very well known SF writer, is a bad writer or uninteresting. Further if the critic knows her work well they know she attempted prior to the computer and desk top publishing epoch in her novel Always Coming Home to create a complete experience with original music on tape included with the hardback. She is mainstream and avant-garde. Science Fiction has come of age. Imagination, the question of What If, drives the better stories as plot. Writing style - well author by author you find it. As a science fiction writer I can as easily as you spin multiple scenarios from What If. The news slant forces the storyline we hear.
Story shapes this world for better or worse and just so stories are quite popular and grip imagination. Let me then try my hand not at compiling quotes from what I read then frame but by a tale. Billions of humans live. All of us are bound together on one habitable world with resources that suffice double the current population. We, all Humanity, can live peacefully in abundance with existing technology but not with existing social arrangements. What masses of humans cannot or refuse to do is govern themselves. The thought is too complicated. Specialists are required. Specialists we choose. Choose from a limited field of candidates more or less pre-selected. I suppose we feel this is a proper division of labor and trust in our emissary in Congress or wherever on Earth their representation rests can be sacked later if unfaithful to our trust. At this point my eyebrows shoot up as time which heals all wounds reasonably refuses to undo the becoming of the wound. So a man or woman can sign a paper or speak a command in code thrice verified that ends our present world. And we in outrage remove them from office. I see.
So this is my backstory. Thanks to this backscratching arrangement our civilization becomes less than fable. Forgotten. A fragment remains. So then Die “Wende” or the Turning.
5,000 years after Die Wende a baby is born in a vat who at 5 remembers a past no one else can. Draws landmasses forgotten. Grows and recalls even more. Speaks of things inside the body injected as medicine that killed the host but in doing so gave birth to a not human other.
Is this the day after tomorrow?
The Hand That Signed The Paper
The hand that signed the paper felled a city;
Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath,
Doubled the globe of dead and halved a country;
These five kings did a king to death.
The mighty hand leads to a sloping shoulder,
The finger joints are cramped with chalk;
A goose's quill has put an end to murder
That put an end to talk.
The hand that signed the treaty bred a fever,
And famine grew, and locusts came;
Great is the hand that holds dominion over
Man by a scribbled name.
The five kings count the dead but do not soften
The crusted wound nor pat the brow;
A hand rules pity as a hand rules heaven;
Hands have no tears to flow.
Dylan Thomas
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