From April 2020 - after reading essays by Giorgio Agamben and John Ioannidis - until about May of this year, I was ready to mount the barricades. I wrote some pieces here and I was very active on Twitter, looking for ways to fight the Machine. I saw the horrible slide towards medical fascism, towards quasi Communist regimes all over the world and I felt acutely that something must be done, that *I* must do something: up to and including armed struggle if necessary.
No more. I only listen to the Frank Sinatra station in my car, no more news, podcasts and commentary. I do my shopping as fast as possible because the sight of masked faces makes me nauseous. At home, I spend hours in my studio, recording new music, remixing old music, working on promos of my band and - when not overcome with listlessness and fatigue - I write a few lines of my memoir. My wife tries to share what she's seen or read about Hunter Biden, or Rochelle Wallenski, or the FBI raid on Trump’s residence and I simply say: “Honey, I don't give a rat's ass. Can you please make me a cup of tea?”
This new indifference stems, I feel, from a desire to avoid further psychic injury. You see, August is always a bad month for me. This Sunday it will be 54 years since the Red Army and its Warsaw Pact allies occupied the city of my birth, Prague, and the whole country of Czechoslovakia. I have carried the pain of that occupation with me all these decades but have managed to build a good life in the freedom and prosperity of the West. And now, a new Red Army is on the march, lead by the CCP, with most duties delegated to the anti-human hoards led by Gruppenfuehrer Klaus Schwab.
I was 15 during the first occupation. When your hopes are dashed and your life crushed at that age, recovery is very difficult. Younger than 13 - you bounce back easily. Older than 17 - you have enough computing power in your neocortex to find a way forward. 15 is a “stuck in the middle” kind of age.
And now I'm 69 and have to allocate my time judiciously. No more barricades for me. The “West” doesn't have the moral fibre to stand up to the invading battalions. But I still have the energy to invest my time in things that feel rewarding. Fighting masked demiwits no longer does
The East and West of yore aren't but shadows of what this global madness will become once more.
Ruins upon which even the sound of your silence will give us a ground.
Keep sharing your music, your spirit, your silence, your stalwart of sanity for us all.
Hello George or Jiri.
I am from Liberec and I was 14 when Warsaw pact attacked us. I know exactly what you feel. Me and family got out late, but does not matter. We live in Canada and commies are getting grip on this nation with incredible speed. Kids are being indoctrinated at schools for decades now and all their brains knows, is sh.t from TV set and "smart" phones, I-pads..........! Scary stuff. I enjoy your input. Thanks. Have a nice rest of your life.
Zdenek