Text 26658, 284 rader
Skriven 2006-03-27 19:53:14 av Nathaly Borisova(SJ) (2:478/37.21)
Δrende: Fiction in the property of NB
=====================================
 Part 1
 This is my own fiction, just pure fiction and no more. I created that story
myself. Don't hurt me...
 .............................................
 THAT'S WHAT THE K. TOLD SOMEWHERE
-        Do you think it's useful?
Telephone has been ringing. No mobile. But this was not the telephone he
remembered from his childhood - red colour, like a box, numbers. What are the
variants? Ah yes, the mirror.
- Sure.
He was inside the room. How so? No, not alone. Old room. But why? The house was
built in 1961 . How could it be? K. was not alone. With his male friend.
-        Well, if you tell me so:.
-        How I do?
What a nonsensical question, may be, thought his friend. Now they were both in
silence. Who? He and his friend.
-        As we have a serious conversation:I'm  working for some research
now:I'll call it in an oldfashion way: - that's how his friend talked, and the
pause, waiting he could be asked about it: - Looking for the totalitarism in
compilative aspects.
-        Looking for:in what:?
-        What? - friend didn't understand.
-        I mean, what are the aspects?
-        Compilative. That's it. - Friend smiled in an unkind way. K. Had no
reasons to smile . It seems he was sitting on the sofa . Or no, not the sofa
but chair, oh, it doesn't matter.
Situation was very simple. K. Loved his friend but couldn't tell it. He was
afraid. Private room - they were drinking.
-        What does "com" means? - Š. Asked in irony. The irony was impossible
there.
-        The question is unpolitcorrect, - replied the friend.
-        But I: - Š. wanted to say "don't care" but didn't: - Will you give me
this text to read?
-        Yes, and not only this.
These words were sweet for the K.  He lit his cigarette although he knew his
friend hated smoking.
-        You're nasty, - whispered friend, and K. heard it. Doesn't matter. Š.
was drunk and he knew the intellectual career in his own way was down.
-        The limits of our discourse:, - K. wanted to say some but paused.
Friend said:
-        I hate this stupid word "discourse".
The telephone was ringing. No mobile.
-        Why? - asked Š. Friend answered the telephone:
-        Hello, yeah, I'll be there tomorrow. Kiss you. My love. - Š. heard
everything and that was his pain. But he smiled. Now.
-        Bye, - and then friend looked in K.'s eyes again. - And what you were
asking?
-        I'm making research about the fire, -  Š. Said in a furious tone.
-        Really? - Friend gave a laugh. - It's real oldfashion blah. And I
think I must stop you. Last conference you were going too far. I liked the
texts you wrote when I was young but now I think all your writings are
unbearable.
-        I love you, - said Š.
-        What? I love you too but:
-        Do you love me? -  Š. Screamed. He was free now though he was old.
-        I didn't mean it! - In cruel way he kicked K. away from his arms. -
Don't do it geybusiness, listen to my researching. Do you think the compilative
aspects are so dangerous? But I'm talking about the possibilities of societies.
Don't you know this?
K. didn't answer. They were in silence for the whole five minutes.
Then K. broke in laugh.
-        Possibilities:they are so boring, - said K.
-        Oh, you're so oldfashion, - replied friend. - May be you don't pay
attention to the last events. But I think we can refuse: - He whispered some
words closely to K.'s ear. K. became pale.
-        Refuse!: - He cried. - Refuse!
-        Yes, to refuse, no life for the impossible games, - happily said
friend.
-        But I love you, - said Š. - And:you told me you love:twentieth
century.
-        I .lied, - and friend was laughing. Then he decided to kiss K. and did
it but in terrible hurry.
-        Why do you always lie? - asked Š.
-        I don't, - it seems friend looked insulted.
-        You should lie, - Š. smoked again. - I hate this hypocrite frankness.
I need to wash my hands, do you have any ideas?
-        Ah:Take  there, - friend pointed the way to small bathroom. Š. went
out the room.
-        Old idiot, - said friend.
And then he's got more than one surprise - K. tried to commit suicide that
night inside the bathroom:
-        Ah :I want to tell you:they have no common sense never: but they
believe in it:believe in common sense:
-        Shut up.
-        Nothing in common:.never:never:but they believe:
-        Shut up! - She said again. That was the nurse. Š. was lying in bed. He
was weak, healthless and rather dead . But the end will be.
-        Do you believe in community?
Nurse smiled.
-        Fifty years ago all ladies like you were discussing the word-power, -
whispered Š. - You don't know it, words for words, palabras. You think on that
subject only when you're talking to somebody in postpostpostaftermodern
worlds:.many of them:.with who?:open for everybody in all the public and
private aspects: - last words were said as in extreme extase.
He said that to none - nurse went out the room . Š. was in home. Friend paid no
visit neither others did.  The rest of alives thought he was oldfashion stupid.
Since little time K. Got well then although he was weaker than before all these
events. The only one who took care of him was his old sister. Less than two
weeks some philosophers decided to visit K.
-        Oh sure we see you couldn't take a leading part at the next seminar, -
lovely smiling female professor was telling him, - but I brought for you some
texts. And, of course, we are waiting for your researches till next year.
-        If I alive then, - said K. politely. Professor wasn't surprised and
rather has gone.
V came then. That was the fat thick "idiot", younger than K. For the twenty
years, but he played role as one of the K.'s faithful admirers. He brought wine
and fruits.
-        Oh what are the ages of ours, - happily said V, but K. Knew V couldn't
do a step without doctors' advice. - You think that all forgot you but believe
me - your last book was in great demand.
-        Which book? - asked K. unbelieving and then whispered :
-        Semiotics:The word I heard in childhood:
-        You're going insane, - said V too much amazed. - What terrible words
you remember:from that terrible twentieth century:.Uf, what a trash thing is
your memory:.
-        No, - replied K., holding his stick. For last times he couldn't move
without stick:and his eyes couldn't see many: - Though you're right:I'm going
insane, oh yes.
-        Well, and do you know who is taking leading part in philosophy after
you? - asked V.
-        I can imagine.
-        And your imagination is right. We are doing common project with him.
Searching of the philosophical arise in twenty first century. How do you like
it?
-        Bullshit, - mumbled Š.
V got a laugh and said:
-        It seems to me I was wrong with you, Geesahb. Go on, give me some bold
quotation.
-        Sense:- started Š., having a deep sigh, - sense:is something
impossible.
-        What did you say? What idiot had said it before?
-        Remember, - K. shaked his stick and that was the reason V was very
scared.
-        No politcorrectness, I'm telling the truth, - K. rather cried, -
die:or go away:or touch my mentula: Although I'm old I can make love to your
sweeties.
-        No, you don't like me, - shoked V has been moving back to the doors. -
Everything was over:twenty years ago. And that was your initiative. Take it
easy! You're old and will die soon.
But today K. didn't die. He started looking for the poesy V wrote him many
years ago between all his old things K. had. He found and read:
"Stop me - I'm writing with your blood descriminated:."
K. couldn't read any more of this.
-        But he is right, - said he to himself. - I'm rather stranger than
alive.
K. put on his glasses and decided to read the discs professor brought him. He
walked on down the hall in direction of the study of his.  Every moving was so
hard for him.
Computer. That's it. Lovely pictures.
"The great philosophical arise of the twenty first century".
"Time after time:" - read K. And said happily: - Hey, they remember times.
":and the space was:"
-        Ah yes, - Š. shaked his head, - time and space. They didn't forget
Kant.
":preconditioned:".  Near this one the word "recreated" was in parenthesis.
- It means they thought for long what had been the first - to precondition or
to recreate, - cried K., - oh, they're idiots! And is this the philosophy? Let
them kiss Heidegger's ass first.
At the end of the whole text was: ":the possibilities of the twenty first
century".
-        I'm not going to tell about Heidegger in my review, I'll take
Benjamine better than that wherever they can get me in prison for mention any
names:Death in a prison!:Though:Well, this:Critique, yes.
In five minutes he wrote all his notes and called up female professor. She's
got all the texts tomorrow. The day after tomorrow came the friend, very
discontented.
When he came K. and his sister were having breakfast. Sister preferred to go to
the garden as soon as friend came to a dining room..
-        I hope you're not going to kill yourself again, - said friend
elegantly although he hadn't any emotions, - if I tell you that..
-        What? - Š. asked gravely. - You're angry with me because I sent some
allusion at Heidegger?
-        Oh no, I don't even know who the Heidegger is:. But your review is
more than stranger. I'd rather tell it  contradicts:all I did with my project.
-        Your project? -  Š. Was surprised. - I thought the project was common.
-        It was mine in most parts.
-        And:?
-        All these allusioning and mentioning of the names and texts no-one
knows:The reaction would be inadequate. You know that people become free from
the power of human knowledge:.they were exploitated  till the twenty first
century.
-        How so?
-        That's so, - now friend didn't hide his real mood. - I know all your
twentieth century trucks that are more than oldfashion. Modern societies are
open only to the fresh ideas. Even everything I tell Heidegger told long ago
before me none on Earth could know it. Or do you forget? The child in the
beginning of the twentieth century was exploitated to know ancient languages
and the names and texts of the greek philosophers:For the sake of what? That
was unuseful. But the progress came to school. At the end of twentieth century
children studied the subjects they wanted to and nothing else.:It seems to me I
shouldn't tell you this but I ought to:.:We will get well without your
inadmissible texts.
-        Leave me alone, - said Š., - you know that I'm mad.
-        Are you making  blackmail?
-        No, - answered Š. gravely. And added : - I love you.
-        I love you too, - said friend.
-        No, you don't  want me, - replied K. in sadness.
-        You're real mad! - cried friend. - You're monster.
-        How so? - asked Š. - In old times was said that it had been wondering.
-        Old times are gone.
-        The times of my mind.
-        Not yours! - friend cried again. - Here's your times. You can live
more than two hundreds years. And more and more.
-        No, - said K., sighing deep.
-        Why don't you like new modern times? Nouvel time is so human so
democratic so close to twenty second century:But you're looking for the memory
of the past as:as:
-        As Proust did, -  Š. Interrupted. - Plato is my friend but alletheia
is more dear. Hold me, touch me, kiss me. I'm cold.
-        Shut the windows - and you'll feel more warm, - said friend in a sneer
tone. Then he's gone with some miserable excusings in which he didn't believe
himself .
After he's gone came young girl brunette - she said that was doing some
researching in close relations with the K.'s texts. Old K.'s sister brought a
cup of coffee to her and  cup of tea to Geesahb.
-        Oh:what a nice and comfortable house, - cheerfully said brunette
getting herself on sofa.
-        Do you smoke? - asked K. in unexpected way.
-        What?
-        Do you smoke?
-        No:but sometimes:
-        Have you got some cigarettes now in your bag?
-        Ah..no..yes.
-        Give it to me.
-        Oh no, - said brunette in great confusion, - I can't, you ought not
to, tobacco now is out of any law:- She became red.
-        Give him that shit, - old woman, the sister of K.'s interrupted
brunette, - and then I'll be glad if this old asshole is dead.
Š. laughed:
-        Oh, my sister's words are best at all. For fifty years she worked as a
slut, didn't you, Judith?
Sister answered nothing and went out for garden. Ten times a day she watered
flowers and there was dirt and mud around the house.
-        I study philosophy and I admire your books a lot, - after long pause
brunette said.
-        Give me some cigarettes, - K. Asked again and girl decided to give him
it.
-        Oh, what a sweety, -  said K. when he got what he wanted,  - I'm
fetishist, my little lady.
-        I admire your books a lot, - repeated brunette.
-        Why? - asked Š. - Can't you write the same as I did?
-        I can't, yes.
-        And what books do you like besides the texts of mine?
Brunette hesitated a little :
-        Ah:some of Michel Foucault.
-        Oh I'm so pleased to be surprised! - cried Š. And lit his cigarette
although his hands were shivering a little. Then his sister was back. She had a
wateringcan in her hands and started to water the floor. Brunette was in great
shock.
-        Don't worry, - smiled Š.
-        One idiot was there before you, - old woman said to brunette. - He
told nothing but the bullshit to my brother.
-        Go away, Judith, - asked Š.
-        Alright I'll prepare something for dinner, - and old woman left room
for kitchen.
-        Do you want to eat? - asked Š. - Sister's cooking is good. At nine
p.m. she'll be ready.
-        At five I must see my girlfriend, - brunette mumbled in great fear.
-        And what about Foucault? - asked Š. In mockery. - Archeology,
genealogy, naissanse de la clinique, what?
-        What? - asked brunette, becoming blushed. - I've read nothing but the
"Histoire de la sexualite". I like the style of your books better: - May be she
thought she was doing a big compliment saying it.
Š. was in silence, smoking and drinking tea.
-        But something in your books gets me in confusion. I mean, the word
"out-admit" you wrote.
-        Oh yes, - said Š. - I think you'll be cruel if you get everything.
-        What do you mean? The making of pain and hurt?
-        Where did you get all the rubbish to tell me now? -  Š. Asked in rough
tone. - I wrote:but not this:There is nothing and nobody in the whole universe
to prohibit:Everything must be admitted:every:- He hesitated a little before
continued: - Every ecriture.
Brunette was surprised to hear the word "ecriture".
-        But, for example, - said she, - what shall we do with writers who told
us that twentieth century never was? We should destroy all their lies - and all
the civilized people will be glad.
-        And what will you do with uncivilized people? - asked Š. and lit
another cigarette. - Oh no, my little lady, we should admit everything...
 To be continued....

 DifferAnce.Deconstruction.
Ceci ne pas une pipe.
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