Saturday, June 25, 2016

EC 548
A Happenstance Witness and The Holy Ghost:
Neither a novel or documentary, but for the patient reader
a timely story about the collapse of Modern and Post-Modern Times.
By © Ludis Cuckold
Revenge to Understand (16)

While my countryside property as it transitions to a wood has become rather run down as far as the cutting of grass is concerned, a teacher at the local school believed it would be just the place to have a graduation picnic. When I explained that I no longer cut the grass, she replied “no problem”, and said that the parents of the children would come and cut the grass and spruce up the place.

I agreed to the idea, and then asked Daisy to join the sprucing up detail. Though I suspected that she agreed, because she knew the teacher from years back, and was curious to exchange stories of experience in foreign lands, I was happy she would for a change be making  contact was with an educated person. The teacher, a young and energetic woman, had spent over half a decade in Ireland, where she had worked as a house cleaner, while Daisy had done similar work in hotels in England for about two years.

The deal had a number of telling repercussions as the 10,000 flies on the floor of my studio proved. They clogged the vacuum cleaner dust bag big time, and hinted that another day of cleaning was in order.

When Daisy agreed to return another day and finish the job, I bought a cake, and—in between cleaning sessions—we had several long tête-à-têtes. We had much to talk about.

More than six years had passed since Daisy had returned from England. After her return, I first met her after she had given birth to her youngest son, and then came to me and asked for work. Our meeting, after some years of disconnection, recapitulated a long chain of old news and entered upon a new chain of events. I learned that her stepfather had again raped her and she had had an abortion as a result. Because she had complained to the authorities, she was assigned a small apartment in the village. I was fortunate enough to be able to arrange to have it thoroughly refurbished (walls blackened by mildew were replaced with new). But I was shocked when Daisy moved in the refurbished apartment not only with her children, but also with her ‘cousin’ with whom she then lived for the next four years. When on one occasion, I asked her how this arrangement served her children, she claimed to be in love with the young man (another episode—the second for Daisy—of a raped young woman believing she had found true love in a happenstance affair) and when asked, said was willing to marry the bloke. Having had his way with her, the stud, a young alcoholic, subsequently moved out. This was a year ago, which year I used to propose that for the sake of her children and in the interests of my longevity, we join our lives, which proposal, problematic as it was due to my age, much to my regret she refused.

I might here remind the reader that I returned to live in Latvija as a virtual agent of virtual America, which was seeking to mate Hal 2000, an Artificial Intelligence computer (of which I was to be a disguise or mask*), with a ‘living’ female. My failure to accomplish my task, largely for reasons of age and failure to win the lottery, was now threatening the Virtual Empire of America. Strange and exaggerated as this may sound, in the course of twenty years of living in what used to be a national community, I have come to perceive America as a real unreal Catholic entity with a theology that makes good use of the killer instinct that governments based on a theology of globalism have cultivated. The Central Intelligence Agency, by no means happy with the trend of my thinking, has implicitly been threatening me with sending a drone with a rocket and assassinating me.

*The use of guileless individuals in hopes that they may become quislings is not an unknown political trick. Indeed, it is likely that Latvija lost its sovereignty due to one of its Prime Ministers being promised a high ranking job in the EU Commission if he but used his ‘legal’ authority to stop the Latvijans from holding a referendum over whether they preferred their own currency or committed to the Euro.

In the course of our talk, I mentioned that her lack of interest in my estate had encouraged me to speak to her teacher friend, about my trying to find some responsible descendant of the ‘proscribed’ (scroll back to p 18, then read forward to p 21) Moravian Church who might bring me into contact with that church. My aim in making such contact was to see if anyone was interested in reestablishing the Church in Latvija, as I have heard that a group of descendants of Herrnhuters existed here (in Liepa), but was led by a Methodist minister. The leadership by latter horrifies me, as I see nothing in common between the two churches. While the Moravian and Methodist churches had cooperated at an early stage of their development, after 1740 each went—for their own good reasons— their separate ways. Unfortunately, in Latvija the idea continues to be propagated that the Herrnhuters derive from the Methodists, which idea is part of ecclesiastical propaganda disseminated by the churches committed to Catholic theology, i.e., the scriptures written by its various branch synods.

Be that as it may, I have contacted some Moravians in the U.S. by email and suggested they might find my blogs of some interest. However, no contacts have resulted. I suspect, that my frank opinions (and skepsis about the reality of Jesus) and the theologically neutered, tame, and misled Moravian Church of today is the reason.

I offered Daisy that if I were to make contact with the Moravian brethren or sisters and elicited interest, I would attempt to assure that her rights to the property (which I deed to her in my Will and do not intend to renege on) remain intact and that by means of negotiations, she would be compensated with such security as is more acceptable to her than a property that provides her with no income other than if it is sold. Daisy made no objections.

I then reopened the subject of a liaison between her and myself, and mentioned the same reasons for doing so that I had given before. I repeated that a liaison would benefit me by potentially extending my life for a few years by giving me reasons for an enthusiasm that has faded and sees no hope of returning Latvija to a sovereign government (except perhaps by encouraging future generations). I explained that I had no enthusiasm for the government of Latvia today and fail to see how it, IT having surrendered the community’s sovereign powers to Brussels, offers anyone reason to remain part an IT, which it has done its provocative best to dissolve. I offered that I had just about exhausted my interest in writing about an issue that I was reasonably sure I had analyzed about right. I suggested for the upteenth time that I could be of some help in encouraging her children to seek higher education, which might prove to be in good stead for them and her.

Daisy’s response surprised me.

She offered that my search for an explanation for the violence of our times could also have been pursued if I had established a family and had children. She alleged that my single minded focus was in fact but the result of my attempt to revenge all that had happened to mine and myself as a result of Soviet violence. When I defended myself by pointing out that my desire to discover a solution in a rewritten history had no backing in academic circles, and that it was founded on no more than intuition, she did not budge from her position. Her sudden self assurance made me suspect that she had discussed the matter with perhaps her psychologist, whom she ocasionally consulted. As I came to understand what Daisy was trying to tell me was that she had come to believe was that I had foregone a family in order to reconfigure the story of history that no orthodox academician was likely to agree with.

After I drove Daisy home, I went to the online I Ching and asked what it thought about Daisy’s response. It responded with the 47th hexagram. I found the most meaningful interpretation of it in the Image: “There is no water in the lake: The image of Exhaustion. Thus the superior man stakes his life on following his will.”

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