subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_24

Chapter 24


I had taken the big step in my life from the paranoid land of my birth, if I am permitted to call it that, to the south-west part of Germany. The city I lived in was on the border to France. Borders when not what they used to be. I have been told that on most days there is no one to control crossing. In resent years, international relations had eased away from their former stress. The region of the Saarland had changed hands from Germany to French to independent and again back to German. That was resent history. Europe had a long history of small regions killing one another for control of tax paying farmers. They had, and some countries still had them, kings and queens. Their role was not the all powerful, usually despotic, rule it had been only a few hundred years ago. In comparison, a few hundred years ago, my home country was only populated by a darker skinned people said to have descended from wandering Mongolians. The Spanish killed most of the much earlier settlers off in the southern regions while the other Europeans countries, British in much of the northern area, where busy killing the most of them in the north. The natives had not developed compatible religions or political systems to be of use to the European culture of disease and conquering.

The region in which I now lived had flourished before and after the second world war because of its coal resources. These coal resources where now one the causes of its financial desperation. World prices where much too low for the Germans to compete. The miners income was largely subsidised for the last thirty or more years by the government. Every year more money was thrown into these big holes to avoid added unemployment.

Other than that, I know that Germany started two world wars. They had a long history of wars in which they tended to lose much of their population. A thirty-year war cost them half their population. In the last half-century, they were looked at as Nazis by people that had not caught the news in the last fifty years. One thing that helped them to keep coming back was their stubborn will to work when all looked hopeless and their dedication to higher learning in the years when other countries where not supporting research in the sciences. World renown scientist, philosophers, psychologist, physician and musicians where a good part of their history at times when they kept war to a minimum. Surprisingly, many still can think of little other than Nazis when they think of Germany. I know my impression of Germany included a wall in Berlin and occupation by French, Americans and Russians. The wall was gone. The poverty lingered but the people were once again free to come and go as much as their financial situation allowed them. I had pictured leather shorts with flowers embroidered on the leather straps and fat rosy faced simple people drinking large mugs of fine beer. I have been assured that there is still a region where many still have such clothing that is occasionally taken out of the closets but seldom will you notice a difference between Germans and North Americans. Perhaps they had a different mentality, it would be likely since their history was much longer and different, but as far as I could tell, they appeared to do the same thing as I had seen before.

I am troubled by the dirty kitchen. Something one might not expect of a German kitchen, but I lived in an apartment with four others. We took turns cleaning and it always ended up a monstrous pile when it came to dishes. One of the people I lived with is also a foreigner. He came from Chile and since English was not one of his three languages he spoke, we could not communicate so well. We tried sometimes and he offered to pass on any jobs that paid cash for a day's work. I did not need papers for such jobs. He was enrolled in the university for Italian and Spanish as far as I could tell but he was almost every night in his room with a few friends smoking. The laws about smoking marijuana are more lenient here. It was surprising to see how in some ways they are more liberal than in the land of the free. And the home of the brave. Another fellow studied at the university as well. He speaks English and I was glad when he had time to fill me in on what was happening in my new land. There was another roommate who was working to become a surgeon. He was very excited, as excited as he gets, which is not much more than a smile, one day after completing his first operation. It was a complete success with no complications. He had the mentality for being a surgeon. He was always steady. He liked to drink two beer and smoke many cigarettes when he came home. It was his ritual. He had a tape he listened to all the time. It reminded me of elevators, when not a bit too lively. He washed dishes a certain way with important cigarette breaks taken through the course of the event. There was a certain mediation to all his actions. There was a certain hectic calm that made me a little uneasy with him. It was nothing that could be seen and might lie dormant his whole life but I was convinced his calm was developed to contain an uneasiness.

There was one other roommate. She studied at the university as well. Unless she had a job. Not knowing German made it hard for me to keep track of details. There was tolerance for each other. Tolerance was something Germans had to have because they lived so close together. Their land became smaller after every world war.

There was a pair of young boys who live above us. They had a loud stereo that seemed to only be programmed with heavy pounding base dance rhythms that reminded me of some of the gay clubs to which Danny took me. I missed Toronto. I missed people.

Sometimes I wondered what it was I intend with my continued feeble actions. I had the poison of nihilistic existentialism. I had spent many days wondering about the function of life, how it worked and other ridiculous questions one tended to be attacked with when one had more time than things to do. I had things I could do but I could not get myself to do them. I wondered how our consciousness fit in to the plan of events or the planlessness of chaos. As far as I had reckoned, life was a general thing; specific points of reference, such as one's self, tended to distort the over all picture.

I visited the zoo here. Danny and Lee where missing. One of the events depressed me. It was a cold day and many animals where inside. We, my friend from German class and I, watched the flamingos prune themselves before we went on to the African pavilion. There we viewed elegant, pretty and cute furry animals. I questioned that observation. What had us convinced all these things were sweet and cute? Those where learned beliefs. Things where as they where whether or not we where there to judge them. I was convinced that if a tree fell in the forest and no one was there to witness it, nothing would be any different because of the lack of witnesses. Each thing happened in its way and each thing tried to survive in its particular way characteristic to its nature. Why each thing was like it was, was most likely directly related to the niche it filled to be part of the life that fed on life that fed on life that fed on life. Everything fed on life.

Upon our relaxing trip through the animal prison, we came upon the ape and chimpanzee pavilion. First thing to be noticed out of the ordinary was that something black was coming out of the back end of one of the inmates. It was soon apparent to be the head of a baby. I thought we were in for a beautiful moment where new life came into the small community.

The birth raised a terribly awful loud and frantic stir. The mother, who looked quite old, was harassed by others. She ran and jumped and climbed and swung and eventually she held the baby to her chest. I did not see it come out for she was out of sight for a moment. The screaming continued. She screamed and clung to her baby. But the baby did not cling to her. I do not know about baby primates but it seemed quite dead to me. It may have been a still birth. I may have accepted that answer because it was better than other answers I could think of.

All was lost as far as I could tell but the torment got worse. Her baby was stolen from her and the thief was bigger and would not and did not give it back. He carried it as others pursued and screamed. The baby was carried gently at times yet upside down. Other times the new owner carried it by holding its arm in his jaws. Still the, what I perceived as ugliness, increased. With the afterbirth and blood scattered on the floor, some gentle examining went on just before the madness increased. I saw the eye hanging out as the new owner went by on one pass. On another pass, after a short time away to see the apes, I saw the face was well ripped or bitten off. Apparently, it was not working.

Maybe they could not understand that. I do not know if it was always dead and the new owner, the thief or father, was frustrated and lost his senses or he was the boss and did not think it was his kid or maybe none of it made sense because primates in prison were not normal so the scene may have been relative to the environment. It was terrifying for the humans to watch.

It was hard for them to stop watching. When at last I saw the new owner probing the baby in its anus as if it was carrion or a broken toy, I cared to see no more. Perhaps it was the fault of the zoo keepers. If the mother had been separated, which I had heard is usually the case, perhaps the dead meat would have been a baby chimpanzee. There where too many things I did not know to draw conclusions but it left me a little uneasy.

The vision of the face ripped off after that and the final sight of the master forcing his finger in and out of the baby's ass has not left me. I suspected that the master did not understand the delicacy of the situation. He, like many males in power, lost control of his actions when he felt threatened.

The event lead me to question religion. It was not the first time I questioned a set of beliefs. I tried to picture what purpose it had held and if it had any useful beginning. I was convinced that it was there to rape the mind, leave it week and desperate. It made fools follow the most ludicrous absurdities. Thousands of different creeds had manipulated masses most of the ages. It kept the people in order, submissive and ready for war. I was sure that war was as important to religion as religion was to war. I have tried to examine a few religions and always came out with horrendous faults. I reasoned that as a simple people, still young in consciousness, it was necessary to have a guiding force. Guidance was necessary for children. Guidance and constructed assurances brought the feeling of security. One problem with religion was that even if it was designed to serve the insecurities of the people, it was abused by those in power to make the people do as those in higher places found most profitable. It made it possible to use people as a commodity. It was more productive than just slavery and rule through torture. In the museum near our school, is a quote from Hitler: 'The bigger the lie, the more people will follow'.



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. chapter_25



© 2001 | the jose wombat project