The Tyranny of Technology

The power of authority has in the the last hundred years or so been reinforced by electric power and technology. It is stronger than it has ever been in all human history. So confident are the ones at the top of their security that they may no longer fear revolution. On the contrary, they may be curious to test their instruments of oppression against a disgruntled population. They may wish to demonstrate their invulnerability and to break the spirit of would-be revolutionaries. Helicopters, laser-guided weapons, satellites, microchips... Would Ghandi's passive resistance have succeeded were he and his followers tased where they sat? Would the Bastille have been stormed if the French king had helicopters circling over Paris, spraying fifty caliber rounds into the gathering mob? Resistance can be nipped in the bud through rigidly controlled information systems. Fare violations on Canadian transit systems now show up on identity scans when offenders try to cross the border into the United States. Given the triviality of such crimes, what else do authorities know about us that hitherto remained private? For these reasons I don't hesitate to post my innermost thoughts. I let it all hang out, as they say. Essentially I have nothing to hide. And while I have a rebellious streak, I'm too much of an individual to align myself with a group and thereby pose a threat. And authority need not feel any privilege in knowing all my secrets. They have failed to turn me into a zombie. I see the listless looking people helplessly playing on their computers and play stations. The technology of oppression may extend to medical advances. Aldous Huxley forecast a Brave New World in which workers would be scientifically conditioned to love their servitude. Drugs played a major role to this end. Today when people become disenchanted with their lives, they are directed to a physician who offers them an antidepressant chemical. Many patients receiving these treatments are from among the ranks of the unemployed, who have more time to analyze the world around them and reach depressing conclusions about it. Coincidence?
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© 2010. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

All My Friends

All The Lonely People is a miniature novel by British author, Gervaise Phinn, that borrows its character names from the famous Beatles song Eleanor Rigby. It explores the troubling issues raised by the sex scandals of the Catholic church in recent years. Father McKenzie is a solitary priest with a terminal illness. Virtuous and the furthest thing from a pedophile, he is nonetheless approached by police in a public park and told to keep his distance from the playing children. Membership in his parish is declining and the building is falling into disrepair. He is approached and befriended by a small boy who doesn't receive enough attention from his mother. The boy's mother, in turn, longs for the companionship of a man. Miss Rigby doesn't appear until the second last chapter. She is an elderly widow, wealthy and deceased. A comforting read for a homeless, single musician on a dead Sunday afternoon.
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Food for Thought

As a small child, having a vivid imagination sometimes backfired on me. When it did, it was usually because of my sweet tooth. I remember these artificial grapes we kept as a centrepiece for the dining room table. They looked so real, so ripe and juicy. I stared at them for a long time. There was no way they could look that good, I reasoned, without also being delicious. My little hand went out, plucked one from the bunch, and popped it into my eager mouth. I bit down and the glass grape exploded. There was no taste but the taste of blood from my violated gums. I ran to the bathroom sink and spat the pieces back out. On another occasion I was making mudpies...
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Sunny Side Down

I'm not sure if it's a genetic thing from my father being a combat veteran, but the powdered eggs they serve in the cafeteria here fill me with homicidal lust. My first thought, upon finishing my food, is that I want to kill. I want to kill. Kill. KILL! HA hahahaha Apparently they are the same powdered eggs they serve the Canadian military.
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Thank You, Santa

Cleaned up this year for Christmas. Lots of presents for David S: flashlights, jeans, shirts, hoodie, sweats, gloves... Very nice. They have taken good care of us here. And Santa was pretty cool to let me get away with calling him Satan.
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MERRY CHRISTMAS!

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

Keep On Trekin

While I've made it well known about myself that I enjoy the science fiction show Star Trek, I like it more for its fiction than for its science. On the whole, I find it too optimistic to be believable. I don't think there is any other intelligent life in the universe. I don't believe in Klingons and Romulans. I yield to the travel barriers posed by the speed of light. As an object approaches light speed, its mass approaches infinity. I laugh at the transporter beam. When a molecule is displaced, it never returns to precisely the same location. Language is the invention of humans. Out of all the animals on the planet, except perhaps whales, we are the only ones to possess the power of speech. It seems foolhardy to expect a similar development from the differently evolved life of an alien planet. I don't think the problems between the nations of the world will ever be resolved. And I don't see money ever becoming obsolete as long as it sustains the establishment. At the same time, I do find the show inspiring. I think we should reach for the stars. I just don't think we'll find anything approaching what the U.S.S. Enterprise found. I enjoy the characters and the issues raised by a lot of the stories as long as it isn't one of those silly soap operas in space. I watched the original series and Star Trek TNG. Anything after that was pushing it for me.
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