A revolution in the mind

An invasion of armies can be resisted, but not an idea whose time has come. --Victor Hugo

is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished

I recognize that I am a day late with this, but yesterday I did not have a spare moment to get down my thoughts on the day. I apologize for the delay.

My Guy Fawkes Day, as is my custom, culminated in a viewing of V for Vendetta. I know I mentioned the movie in last year's post for the day, but on this viewing something very different struck me. While there is plenty of violence in the film (as is to be expected I guess, in a movie by the Wachowski Brothers based off an Alan More comic book), V never recommends violence as a widespread social panacea and in fact never recommends that anyone beside himself, whom he seems outside of the system and as not full part of the world, use violence. For your reflection here is part of his television address to London, I realize it is a little long, but it is fascinating:

Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now high chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives. So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.

V makes two points here; first, injustice demands action or we are complicit with it. But his other point which underlies the first one is that, we cannot recognize justice, we cannot stand up for truth without deep contemplation. The authors here have spoken repeatedly about the power of words but it is a point worth repeating--we must be constantly intellectually engaged with the world. In 1984 one of the government's primary tactics in controlling the populace is redefining words--a practice which goes on both intentionally and unintentionally in our world. As Alan More says, "…Text-messaging or The Sun, these are perfect Orwellian ways of limiting the vocabulary and thus limiting the consciousness…" The real revolution is not V blowing up a building. That, as he says, is a symbol. The real revolution, what V is in fact urging the people of London to do and what hopefully follows the action of the film, is the people once again begin to think, to question, to challenge and thus to rediscover the Truth.

The Eternal-Or lessons of the League of the long Bow

The sacred and the eternal can be hard to detect in everyday life. And while it need not always be front and center--the little things in life have their place and their own import--it is always important and cannot be ignored. And in a world where technology is constantly increasing the pace, making reflection more rare, recognizing the eternal, the unmovable, the First Things, is essential.

As the members of the League of the Long Bow put it:

"In all our adventures," went on the other, "we have all of us taken up some definite position and stuck to it, however difficult it might be; that was the whole fun of it. But our critics did not stick to their own position --not even to their own conventional or conservative position. . .The modern world is materialistic, but it isn't solid. It isn't hard or stern or ruthless in pursuit of its purpose, or all the things that newspapers and novels say it is; and sometimes actually praise it for being. Materialism isn't like stone; it is like mud, and liquid mud at that."

'There's something in what you say," said Owen Hood, "and I am inclined to add something to it. On a rough reckoning of the chances in Modern England, I should say the situation is something like this. In that dubious and wavering atmosphere it is very unlikely there would ever be a revolution, or any vital reform. But if there were, I believe on my soul that it might be successful. I believe everything else would be too weak and wobbly to stand against it."

When the Revolution Comes

I am back to writing real posts! Hopefully on a semi-regular basis, although we will see how that goes with me about to be a student again. But it was either that or let this become a blog of quotes I like (which there is nothing wrong with, as I really like quotes). Anyways, post!

The image of barricades has long enthralled me, as have tales of revolutions and hopeless last stands. I love stories about 1916 Ireland, Prague Spring, Les Mis, every other revolution France has had, and V for Vendetta among many more. I followed the recent "twitter revolution" in Iran with more enthusiasm and precision than I normally follow the news. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, I no longer think that if there is a revolution it will occur on the streets but rather in the home.

The New York Times recently ran an article about the decline of cooking in America. Very few people make anything from scratch anymore, something that has become so acute that the definition of cooking as broadened to include opening a bag of pre-washed and cut lettuce and opening a can of salad dressing to pour on it. Exacerbating this problem is the fact that most meals are now eaten on the run or in front of a television.

The kitchen used to be the soul of the home. It was where the family gathered, where they were nurtured, and over the family dinner table was one of the chief sources of family time. Making something from scratch is also a gift of self, one so strong that eating another person's food, partaking of their hospitality, used to be enough to temporarily make you part of their family and provide you that protection.

The change then must come not on the streets but in the home. The focus must once again be set on people and time must be taken to provide for each other, to create, and most improtantly to share with one another, to break bread.

There's a River on the Run

Be Realistic: Demand the Impossible--Slogan from 1968 PragueSpring

Turning

"Of what does a revolt consist? Of everything and nothing, a spring slowly released, a fire suddenly breaking out, force operating at random, a passing breeze. The breeze stirs the heads that think and minds that dream, spirits that suffer, passions that smolder, wrongs crying out to be righted, and carries them away." Victor Hugo