RANTINGS OF A RAVING PEN

RANTINGS OF A RAVING PEN


Don’t suppose this trend only occurs in an undemocratic society... It is so wrong to assume that. An apology, a favourite story, a heartfelt confessions....I would have to start this way.
Even in a society where there are “three legs of the iron-pot”, and if any one of the legs of the iron pot is longer than the other two: It would have powers to make redundant the other two legs, powers to control the other two legs, powers to build a Napoleon behind that shimmering label of democracy... Maybe that’s why my grandmother and those before her had decided to have clay pots that didn’t have legs.

Sometimes the beautiful colours of the rainbow myth are a pointer telling you to look beyond their poetic-singed about beauty and the hollowed hauntings of those rainbow colours results in one colour ultimately playing the god-insect function.

But not even a single one of those savages had the right to claim legitimate authorship to the start of that anarchic situation. No, no, no... It’s so stupid and naïve to think that a powerless individual could do that. No! It must have started somewhere there..., where a single individual, vested with all the powers that begat power, randomly distributed tools of anarchy... such as weaponry, total disregard of governing rules, open and conceited manipulation of all the mirrors of a society and naked provocation for violence by a small group controlled by that single individual.
What followed was total anathema.

There is this trend..., maybe a pattern, I said a pattern... patterns to aid to my augment! I have to start here.
Single purposes! Single purpose is usually the trait of the lunatic..., or is it the fanatic and then things start to take shape? When you try to look at those patterns, when you try to study those patterns, when you try to unlock their frozen meanings.
Single purpose individuals plan for every of their moves; every word, every nod, every silence..., everything becomes, (disguised) planned and patterned events. And there is another pattern?

He knows that if he sits on his laurels and waits for things to follow their undisturbed course he will become history.
That he will vanish into the gossamer’s web of time. So he has to refuse to step aside..., and how? There are some things we will never really be able to control; no matter how good we are at controlling things, even when we are non-paralleled at that. We can only harness them. We can only channel them. We have to avoid blocking them..., freedom? Freedom gives some people the right to rule over others and it is only a few of us who are totally alien to this sweet call, and the quest for it can never really be controlled but maybe harnessed towards a truly altruistic goal.
No one can overcome the need to constantly change and re-invent one’s self. My apologies to change for calling it a necessity here but barriers against change can gobble up continents, alienate the whole population, swallow ideas and limit future expressionisms.

But what else would people need?
We know they want to be free, but let us offer them something else..., not in exchange, off course not!
You tell them it’s the only way towards prosperity, towards freedom. But it’s a delaying or diverting tactic for you and you instil into the minds of these people the importance of this need at the sad demise of the other need. Emotionalise this offer (put all the spices that you can think of): Indians, my Grandma once told me that they were so good at doing that. Putting spices into food..., umm, it smells great..., putting spices into things too.

All right they have two things..., needs, competing favourably...and unfavourably too. But what would people need most?
Not freedom, no, not this one on its own, no!
People need a state of happiness and happiness results from a sense of security and inorder to be secure you need to have something that you can see, feel, touch, taste..., at least in your mind..., I mean something that you can singularly own to yourself.
I will offer them land!

And how did I come to this pedantic interpretation of events..., and that seer couldn’t refrain from assigning it into the narrative convenience dustbin? But, of course, accumulated observation of a countless historical examples: Palestine, Egypt, USA..., suffices enough. And how can we offer this land...? And please do it this way and I am so sorry it is the pedant’s sweet call again but don’t hate me, at least not too offensively for this lazy indulgence.
Sometimes we just can’t help it, being pedantic, I mean.

Just tell someone you want to offer him land. Tell someone you want to take his land away. Tell someone that this person owns more land than that one. Tell them that, that land must be taken and be given to them. You are on a dangerously perilous emotional drive.
All right, let’s drive through and see what would become of this.
Spices..., Indians..., It’s a traversing of centuries and centuries..., of good food-spices-eating-fighting-living, of being, and all the hordes are all up in arms, their laughter..., and their sweet, sweet anger! Talk about the wars that were fought for this land. Talk about the sacrifices, the slaughtering, and those mass killing fields...
The madness! My apologies: may those who have died be patient with the way my memories have faded, the way I am recalling some.
O, those internecine mass killing fields in lands beyond still littered with unburied bones and unassigned anger.
Here you are inclosing hollow worlds in words and I am sorry for the great question of life for these small answers.
Talk the argument back, back, further..., and further to the caves...
Here you are disclosing hollow words into whole worlds.
Talk about the injustices that this people suffered before they took up arms.

The Serbs do that to their children.
They talk of 1938; they talk of the battle of Kosovo in 1938 against the all-conquering ottoman Turks.
Here, I am talking about that hot, hot spot they call the Balkans and you can understand why the Balkans has always been a restless spot that it has been.
The Irish talk about the battle of Boyne: and the Palestinians do the same thing to their children.
1948! 1948! 1948!
The loss of the Palestinian state and the subsequent birth of the Zionist state. For goodness sake I am not a Palestinian neither am I an Israeli but the bloody hell why did they ever got sucked into this game: land?
Here, we are talking of that powder keg they call the Middle East.
It is a devastating game that they have perfected out there; the bones, the bullets, the dust and those biological invasions mixes with anger, rage and revenge and it is within this fund that we draw upon haunting cries of the wounded and the dying.

And the morals of these stories are...
Nothing should be forgiven. One day make them pay. Now we have an excuse, don’t we?
We enforce this excuse and everything else can now be sidelined. Nothing now, I mean absolutely nothing..., I said nothing, is more important than this.
But we were only emotionalising our needs!
And there is also this pattern: You are a disguised despot working behind those colours of the rainbow myth that we have talked of before, about colours of the rainbow? What would be the best way of offering that over emotionalised thing so that it won’t appear as if we were belittling the other need, and also remember that throughout that process we want to appear democratic to a people who are already sadly seeing some glimpses of our undemocratic tendencies.
But who really are we? Someone said that if you give name to something, you will unconsciously empower it, and with that in mind, let’s give ourselves a name and let’s call it an act of self-empowerment, indigenisation?

Maybe an institutional name would do fine..., not that we revere it, no, not institutions, no.
Executive! Executive! Executive...
They seem to be a nice ring to the rhyme of this word.
Ok executive..., and remember the three legs of the iron pot?
You have to involve the other two legs and suppose the Law-makers can be whipped into line..., after all, there are all controlled by us since they are mostly from the party that we rule..., and implicit here, I am saying that they are from the party we own, and do you know what you can do with a thing that you own?
Some sage said, (well, I can’t remember his name), but he was this man of mountain wisdom..., not Solomon no, off course not.
He said that the best way to harness the unbridled potentiality of a radical element is to offer and deny two or more important things at the same time.
Here and if I were you, I wouldn’t rule out threats, punishments and killings. You know about the survival patterns?
The Nazi holocaust had collaborators. Idi Amin and Bokassa re-invented the Nazi’s boxing up things (putting (things) into boxes) mentality in Africa and in the same vein created collaborators too.


We can now control the Law- makers and whilst we still have an upper hand we craft some piece of paper, bill, legislature, name it whatever you want to but run it through the now gagged Law-makers, so we are now rolling, and who else can stop us now..., who really can stop us now? Let’s encompass this tin pot bill into the whole hog-wash and in so doing let’s change the whole law into something that would make us untouchables. By the other things we have done, by uncontrollable things like freedom, by our failures and follies and it’s easy to do that: you search around for people who can do that for you.
People who still believe in you. People who are your followers. People who are afraid of you. People who want to selfishly enrich themselves. People who are painfully dying to do you a service. People who are...
It’s a people, people, people landscape that you will create, but it’s also a power base you will recreate.
Expect insanity. Expect dangerous thoughts and extremities. Expect anything that can be done under the sun. Expect stupidity at its unprecedented showing.

Sing like a parrot; inaccessible songs are dreams that never get away. Dance like a parrot; it feels like the music can be heard around the world, dance to its rhythm. Talk like a parrot. Here you will recreate a lower grade-class going through its P.E class.
Moi (that fella who once ruled that little black water country called Kenya) was in this lower class-grade for some time and he sang unabashedly, with a beautiful boy’s tenor voice, the songs he was taught to sing by the enormous bass voice of the Uhuru himself. He sang songs that were readable in the language of a fading or lost generation and his music in self-conscious superposition, breathing through his mouth.
Never was there ever such a beautiful boy and for some long unforgotten winters he tantalized us with his genius but one day he woke up with a sore mind and a dead voice.
Sadly for us fellows who had fallen in love with his songs.

Whilst we are still at this, and word of advice fellows: don’t ever include people who will do you a de-service.
Find a way to exclude them..., by the way don’t just extrude them, but if anything, extinguish them!
Since you have all the powers that begat you, this wouldn’t be such a terribly blowing headache for you to do. But you want to appear democratic isn’t it? Go back to the people!
For other disguises, ask for people’s opinions on this tin-pot bill that we have drafted, and this would be another opportunity for you, the executive, to white-wash them by overly repeating..., incessantly..., I said incessantly, how important it is for this very important thing to be valued importantly by everyone.
They have to eat breakfast on it, elevenses on it, lunch on it...
Supper, breath, drink and sleep on it..., they even have to dream on it, dance to it..., dancing like they were dancing to those songs of autumn nights, nights of carousal.


We manoeuvre everything else in the constitution to suite our needs by enshrining well this very important element (need).
We architect a bogus constitution..., one that could have protected us in the future. We consult with the people and in so doing we enhance our public relations with this people.
Do you think he made a mistake by doing all that?
Anyone could be excused for being polemical here, for in human terms, evidence alone without judgments is pretty inadequate.
Ok; let’s try to map the landscape of his thinking. Don’t you think it was all a manoeuvre and it showed him some home truths? People showed him how capable they were at determining what was right from what was wrong. They showed him they were not the gullible sorts he thought they were. They knew what they had been doing all along, have always known, would always know, wouldn’t be blackmailed anymore..., and could see through this deceitful plan.
They reject it!
I said they rejected it..., so resolutely.
Here, much would depend on how you would interpret those results.
People, people..., people...
On a scale of 0 to 1 where 0 rates the less thinking, I would have to give them 1 or any number closer to 1 on this one.


But as I have already told you that suppression of the incompatible is his greatest trait, that he has the Orwellian big brother mentality, the Nazi storm trooper mentality, the terrifying invader mentality, the Idi Amin occultist’s edge.
His other hand; that which is out of sights of the people is sinisterly moving things beyond everyone’s entranced eyes... moving that land of risk into being again.
People have now forgotten that single purposes individuals don’t like to have their plans disturbed or else they would go into permanent disarray, but with this one it’s a different tune altogether.
Tunes! Songs! The Parrots! He is not into Bach, Brahms..., and neither into Beethoven’s ninth symphony. Their viola and violin creates musical colours that are both bright and expressive but also melancholic and volatile..., their music dripping like rain from their thin fingers..., no? They make a philosophical sound that allows you some distances to ponder about the earth and the sky at long ranges so that they have the ability to reach and evoke the arena of timelessness and it is for this that they are not his cup of coffee.
He would rather they were momentous tunes, like pop music, like dancing to pop music, popping upto its curled up dimensions too.
So he makes his own tunes and let others dance to them...
Oh wise man make proverbs and fools repeat them and whilst we are still at this proverbial parallelisms, apply this nonsense to songs too, and you have just discovered him mortals!
Best wishes mortals!


Before his songs were confused, disturbed, I mean his plans..., he was already breaking new ground and looking at those disturbed songs from dry ground emotionally...and unemotionally too. His feelings, emotions and moods are nothing seen before. They tower beyond dreams, myths, imaginations and explanations. They are smooth when he is under terrible obstructions like the river when it empties into the sea yet they soar dangerously, rage formidably, and soar violently when he is not under obstructions. He likes obstructions and he doesn’t like them in one and the same breath. He can be complete opposites in room enough to change invariably from one form to another, or even being contrasts at the same time.
Ahhh..., can’t we speak silently, and be silent at the same time?
Happy and sad?
Beautiful and ugly..., at the same moment, and why not...What is beauty? Is this that we disagree about or it is about what ugly is? Greening around the core, no..., not greening no, but maybe greying or decaying in the core and exuding strengths all around the outer edges. A pail of words which although pretty archaic aren’t bad at all, are they?
Isn’t that a terrible beauty; is it ugly?
Maybe both...and I said at the same moment and there are lives within him which he couldn’t keep under check.
He exudes dimensions, edges, bottoms and depths beyond multiple understanding for he is now a brute force of nature unleashed with medieval anger on the entire human dissent.
Ok, I would have to go back to the beginnings to find the wellsprings of these ravings. Would you please let me go back a little bit with my ravings? I know I am asking too much from you, but please would you lend me about two or three years. Ok, I know I am being too self-indulgent but if you would allow for that just this moment then I would start on it. I would allow groups to form..., after all, isn’t that always so beautiful watching them growing. I would allow groups to form whatever are their intentions and I would let them evolve and wield some stupid powers over me. Obviously they would be demanding for something as a smock screen to their actual (veiled) intentions.
Don’t give them anything out rightly! A little bit of sweat is good here and let it all come closer to their extremities but not beyond such that they would almost dream that getting what they want is heaven-status or anything as closer to that as is possible, just like some traveller in an endlessly ice-capped land could dream of, and at the same shiver, equate heaven-status to any kind of warmth.

When people fail to realize their ambitions they inflict pain on themselves and ultimately on that that has been denying them such fulfilment. Now allow them to demonstrate some of their anger and vapid power before they get to a dangerously volatile condition.
You all along have been denying them things, ...and all of a sudden, and at the flicker of a second, you are accepting all their grievances..., so apologetically, so regrettably, so genuinely, ...and offer more of whatever they had been demanding.
You will leave them in dangerous disarray and in confusion too because at the moment they are now bloating themselves on the Captain’s right to booty that you have just awarded them.
In the same vein, at the same time, they have forgotten all their other interests, but the loot, of-course only the loot!
Sadly they now permanently equate everything to a monetary value.

With unequalled speed and whilst everyone is celebrating..., this people and that group, and I said with speed..., immeasurable! You throw the spanners at work.
All of them are yours..., and I said all of them. So this group owes you a favour?
I remember something and some philosophy...
There is this old Chinese philosophy that says if you save someone from death, that someone you have saved would now belong to you and it would now be your obligation to look after them, their lives, their loves and their happiness too.
You can ask for anything and they would simply have to give it to you, whatever it is that you have asked for. And they would also shout on top of the mountains saying that they were not occupiers of the farms but land redistributors and nation builders for you. They would do that for you.
Do you see the things that you can do with things that you own!


I said you throw all the spanners at work. You throw this group onto the people. All the seven hells and all the fires! I said all the seven hells and all the fires. Oh, I can hear someone whispering about eight hells...yes, even that and don’t forget the fires, the fires. It burns, let it burn, let it burn, let it burn!
I would target an element of this people and unearth that emotional (never to forgive) concept once again, striking all the way back to those tiny-tiny cellular beginnings. But why is it that we do not want to forget?
The Fools! The past! Forgiveness..., forgetting,
It’s a full spectrum of the impossible tribalistic tendencies that are brought forth for us to share in ...so foul, and so full of the ages. Maybe there is always security with the ages..., and the past too.
You know everything because someone once experienced it and expressed it and someone also kept it in their tribal memories, thus in yours too. It’s quite different with the future because there is not knowing what the unknown would turn out to be. Maybe that’s why people prefer living in the past, or maybe it’s because they fear what they don’t even fear which is not fear itself but maybe the reason for fear..., which is, “being there.”



But he should have known that it is a fool’s myth to believe in the use of the sword as the basic instrument of governance.
He should have known that a sword can only lock a person into a predictable pattern of behaviour, that the sword would incite heroism from the oppressed.
Hitler tried it on the Jews and Europe and it exploded.
The Soviets tried it and it rotted in Moscow’s gutters. London tried it on the colonies, and it burned to ashes in Africa.
History is replete with many other examples but whilst we are still interpreting these results let’s muse... by maybe estimating the possibilities of this historical agency.
Just a little bit.