A day in the life of Ivan Denisovich

So it goes...I just spent the afternoon reading the whole book.

I love exploring books that develop new concepts or perspectives. In my sojourn through the realm of literature, I have exposed myself a spread of ideas, some coterminous to the other, others poles apart. And I have cynically processed them, assimilated the relevant and insightful ones, while caching the less palatable or facile ones. The penetrating and astute ideas elicit raptures of praises from me and persist in my mind, while the objectionable or shallow ideas are gradually worn away by entropy.

But rarely do I get emotionally attached to them, and rarely will my emotions be stirred by the author.

In One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Solzhenitsyn has touched me with his gritty realism on Stalin's labour camps just as Vonnegurt shook me with his biting satire on war. In the few hours it took to traverse 142 pages and 20 hours of (Ivan Denisovich) Shukhov, my perception on the desirabilty of Stalin as a leader in Russia has been shattered at its foundations.

Of course, it is inevitable that I'll miss out much at a such sprint to complete a book so pregnant with poignancy, and I must re-read it when the free time arises again. For now though, I think it necessary to put pen to paper the ideas of greatest significance, for this book has been, in a way, almost cathartic.

Of greatest import is the way the book has crushed my supposedly detached views of the necessitiy of dictatorship in 3rd world nations to ensure sustainability. As an observer of history removed from participation as victims in Stalin's crimes, I have often immaturely declared that without Stalin, the USSR would have disintegrated in the face of German onslaughts in WW2, and that so much that Stalin was a cruel man, he was a saviour to his people and that negated much of his crimes.

But can crimes really be negated this way?

When Shukhov is punished simply for surviving and escaping capture; when a soviet hero is punished because an English admiral sends him gifts, is such a leader even worth a modicum of respect? I'm not naive or ignorant, and I know of the ludicrous crimes that have been dreamed up for persons perceived to be threats to Stalin, but most of the time, these were men who remained faceless or just a numeral in the millions of subjugated me. Perhaps my small heart was simply unable to comprehend the immensity of Stalin's monstrosity, so much so I often compared his economic "achievements" to his crimes, and conclude his achievements were more favorable to him! But Solzhenitsyn forces me to look in the faces of each labour camp prisoner, forces me to live with them for one day. He tears the scales from my eyes, and shows me how gulag life has broken these men. When life is reduced to looking forward to a pinch of tobacco, a bowl of grass, and a bite of bread; when life is reduced to sleep; when life is reduced so much one starts to fear freedom! Par dieu, as the characters of Dumas always say. By God! How much cruelty could be doll out to men? Jesus suffered much physical pain on the cross; these men probably would rather suffer that pain and die knowing that people venerated him. Each of these men could be Jesus.

There are really more that I wish to say regarding my revulsion at the Stalin regime, but I lack the emotional capability and words for it now. Another day for this while I move on to a few other ideas that touch me significantly.

Just this Friday, I spent half a day debating with 3 avowed Christians about the existance of God, or at least a supreme being. (On a side note, 2 of them at least seemed to be tending towards the intelligent design idea, which really frightens me considering that I never imagined practical Singaporeans to fall into the trap Americans are falling into.) Then on Saturday, I visited this church (lighthouse evangelism) at Woodlands. A proclaimed Agnostic at a church procession! How quaint! So much for the "who cares about God" proclaimation! But it was a well-intentioned invitation by my boss, and a real agnostic is always open to all ideas! Anyways, what is its relevance to Solzhenitsyn? Well, the 2 events of the pass 2 days replayed in my eye when Shukhov expresses the opinion that "prayers are like our appeals; they either don't get through or are return with the stamp, 'rejected'". On Saturday evening, the instances of miracle was incredible to the state of incredulous. Healing prayers by proxy saved this Phillipino! A hand that brought unbearable pain to its master was quelled! But half a world praying did naught for men in gulags. God's ways are mysterious my Christian friends declared, but certainly this mysteriousness bothers on the malicious, no? I prefer a more palatable God, thank you!

Finally, I end this with a description of work by Shukhov: Work was like a stick. It had two ends. Whenyou worked for the knowing you gave them quality; when you worked for a fool you simply gave him eye-wash. How it resonates with me!

Darwin turns in his grave yet again...

America!
Land of the free!
Wallow in your disbelief!
For the world rejoice,
as you sink back in regression,
as we make ourselves a stronger race!

Je n'ai pas crois que Américains peuvent si stupide! Comment les Américains deviennent le plus puissant pays?!

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/24/education/24evolution.html?partner=rssnyt&emc=rss&pagewanted=all#

Well, for their regression is our progression. It feels incredible that such a technophile nation can still sink to anachronistic ideals!

Ah, the vicissitudes of life!

You shall meet your adversary: Patience.

So often I tell people how much a miracle it was that I escaped my own Gehenna. Some would probably think I'm lying outright, some think I exaggerate, some respecting my tenacity, some marvelling at my shear fortune.

I don't exaggerate, but I still find myself occasionally forgetting how difficult the ascend was. I treat it as a joke, and ever so often, because I forget myself, I stumble over the smallest pebble.

Because I forget, I run myself through this gamut of pain repeatedly.

I see the end of this gauntlet.

True power in the Singapore army

Power is only real, if the entity which wields the power is threatened by death. As a corollary, an entity that is faces no threat to its existence, is an entity with no real power. As a second corollary, power exist in a Morbius spiral-liked reversibility, where its death perpetuates its existence.

So the Singapore army, which group holds true power? The generals and his coterie of officers? The warrants, the potential conduit between officer-dom and the masses? Or, could it be, incredibly, the blur mass of low-ranked foot soldiers?

Of course you know where this postulation is heading.

Indeed, our featureless blob of low-ranked personnel wields real power, and in fact, they are probably the only entity in the army that holds any true power. Officers and warrants alike instead hold a vacuous power.

Why?

Because, unlike the enlistees and specialists these 2 entities do not face any real threats to their existence. Death in the army, figuratively speaking, comes in the form of a court martial or charge. It is only in the form of official punishment that power held by any of the entities can be destroyed. Yet, as one sergeant puts it, to charge an officer, you need to ascend through so many corridors of power that no one actually does it. So while officers can technically be charged, they face no tangible fear. In short, they face a simulated threat, not a real one.

So what does it signify?

Nothing less than the fact that the power officers hold are but a simulation. That directives and rules (that affect the officers) exist solely to serve as simulated threats to the officer corps: Simulated threats to perpetuate the officer corps' simulated power. That, in fact, without these directives, the officer corps would hold no power at all.

So how does this cause true power to fall into the amorphous mass of enlistees and specialists?

Because unlike the officer corps, directives serve as real threats to the lowly-ranked soldier. It is ludicrously easy to charge a CPL, but woe betid the person who submits a charge report on an officer. Real power only exists if it faces real death. From here, it is only a logical deduction: True power lies in the enlistees and specialists.

And finally, power in the enlistees and specialists will always perpetuate itself. Every time 1 man falls into Gehenna, power reincarnates itself amongst the masses.

Darn, only till do I realise that 2 of my fellow scholars are my juniors! Oh, well, I don't really know most stuff that goes on back in school anyways...

Et, j'ai seulement réalisé que la plupart d'entre eux etudients parfait, mais je ne suis pas!

Et...

Je réalisé il est dimanche martin! Mais, je ne veux pas dormir! J'aime beaucoup le weekend, et je ne veux pas dors tous les deux jours!

Hypocrisy?

Wide smile of appreciation;
gleam of cold steel.

Jovial, blithe commiserations;
harsh condemnation.

Sanctimonious preaching of compassionate accommodation;
harsh iron prison

Amity; enmity

I really detest hypocrisy. More aptly put, I disdain duplicity. Often, survival and societal position necessitates dissimulation. That is how, for example, an army survives. By dissimulation of real abilities and simulation of power through the rank structure. Or a feudal state. Or any incompetent government, for that matter. But duplicity for the sake of duplicity is unnecessary and jarring. As my superior in my current vocation, false affection does not beget benefits. False affectation only broadcasts your character weakness (<--my character weakness often forces my to jump to conclusions too! 24/8/2008).

Hi Eugene:
Do you still remember what inspired this piece? Probably takes a while to recall! Entropy does take a toll on the human memory. Do you find this piece a painful reflection of what you are? Have you become what you dread to become, slipping into the cloak that you disdain? Or do you smile to yourself, happy that you have sustained your personal ethos and survived?

Festering hate, dry tinder, and ignition!

That the Georgians believe that they could provoke a drastically superior opponent without repercussions is beyond belief.

That they Georgians think they can rely on American support, after the hypocritical actions of America in Pakistan and Iraq, is beyond belief.

Some people just don't learn.

Yeah!

This seems a good time to start my blog. With the blogging faze completely fizzling out, I am no longer pressured to blog for the masses!

Online records seems better than paper records now anyways. And I do want something to remind myself how far I have come, where I came from, what I went through. With this, I'll be able to trace the process that made me who I am, and perhaps provide a source of encouragement!

No more ramblings, farcical acting. For myself, the living.