Deep in the moss-lined burrow of the communication bunker, the ticker tape machine whirs into life spewing out a stream of punch-holed encryption. This message is long. It coils and slithers its way from the top of the make-shift desk onto the cold cold earth-set stones on the floor. I light the last remaining tallow candle and sigh. De-coding this one is going to take all night. I should make a start. But coffee first, I think. Even here, coffee first. I scrape back the orange crate and duck my head through the hole in the wall to reach the rough mounted tap. Water trickles slowly into my enamel cup, coughing and spluttering through air bubbles. The bowser must be nearly empty. Will they remember to bring a fresh one with the supplies? Will I need to go back to the old way of collecting the rainwater? Will there even be any more supplies?
The matches are damp and it takes three strikes to light one long enough for the gas to catch. When I bought this stove, it'd never crossed my mind that I'd use it for anything more than camping holidays. How things change. I pick up the green silk cushion and place it back on top of the crates. You always say that there can be no luxury in resistance, but I only deny this one simple command of yours. It's a reminder to me of why any of this this is worth doing, why this risk is worth taking. And in any case, it cushions my butt.
Even without looking up, I can see that the blue light cast from the flickering face of the monitor is still blank. No message yet from the ones on the surface. No news. How long will I leave it until I assume all hope is lost? A day? A week? A... No, stop. Stop that train of thought there. You have work to do. The pan rattles as the water boils and I pour it over the few thick brown grains of coffee in the bottom of my mug and carry it back to the desk. The dog growls gently in his sleep and turns over. I pick up the end of the ticker tape and begin my work.
***
I sat up late into the night yesterday watching the results of the European elections come in. Two members of the extremist right British National Party have been elected as MEPs, the first time ever that the country has elected fascists to any national or international parliament. There is some consolation in the fact that the other seventy MEPs are not, of course. It is democracy that must allow such odious organisations to exist - that's quite right - but why people vote for an organisation that would ultimately deny them the privilege is mystifying. It was far from being a good moment.
Today is also the 60th anniversary of the publication of Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell, so apologies if I'm in a bit of a doublethink mood. Normal service will be resumed tomorrow.
Without much exaggeration or imagination, your opening paragraphs very much remind me of 5:00 a.m. in the newspaper office when I first began learning how to run the "wire desk," the earliest to arrive, and publication for most newspapers was in the afternoon.
ReplyDeleteMy teacher, a man who had steadily worked his way down in the realm of journalism, began the day by making coffee. When it was done, he would take a pint of whiskey from his desk drawer, fill half his cup from it, then to the brim with coffee. Such were the times. Charlie died of a heart attack at age 56, inadvertently providing me with my first promotion.
We all allow political trends and swings of the pendulum to affect us too much, I think.
George was a giant, of that there should be doubt or argument.
No photograph of the hybrid, Katy. I seldom carry a camera anymore.
In answer to a question you asked earlier that I keep forgetting to answer, I might go to the Moody Blues concert if the stars are in the proper alignment. Ask me an hour or two before the concert, and I might have the answer.
You're so right about the swings of the pendulum, Fram. Think I was rather too gloomy in this post - and the only thing that feeling gloomy ever did was make one feel gloomy :-)
ReplyDeleteI love Charlie's story, the way you've told it there. Thank you. Fabulous. Well, obviously not fabulous for Charlie, but you know what I mean...
Doublethink, Katy? Lately I've been in a gazillionthink mood....LOL Way too much thinking going on. I really must stop that!
ReplyDeleteHave a Happy Day!
Hee hee hee, Kelly, me too! Gazillionthink - I love that :-)
ReplyDeleteHave a great day too :-)
It is much the same here Katy - and, to answer your question re 'compulsory voting' in Australia. It has been around a very long time. It means we have something called an 'electoral roll'. All those over 18 are supposed to be on it. It collects a name, an address and (illegally) quite a lot of other information. It is regularly (ab)used for other purposes - along with the Medicare card and the 100 points to open a bank account and get a photographic ID for a driving licence or proof of age card. We are told it is about tracking terrorists - but terrorists do not use these things and it does not track them - it tracks us - and that worries me. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteCharlie was a truly nice and gentle guy, who held a drink in one hand virtually every minute of his waking hours (such were the times), who was a excellent teacher and who left a widow and a 13-year-old daughter. In the final regard, he should have known better at his age.
ReplyDeleteBrooding is fun, and with your blonde hair and blue eyes, your English blood certainly is no less Scandinavian than my own. On that I would bet a few dollars, Katy. If I am right, be happy in your gloom. It is your birthright.
I agree Cat. These things that are done supposedly for our *own good* possibly start off well-intentioned (I'm being optimistic here) but can result in being the route to a huge invasion of personal liberty. "The nanny state" is what it is called here - no doubt you have a similar expression :-)
ReplyDeleteThat's very funny Fram, the Scandinavian brooding thing. Whenever I have visited any of the Scandinavian countries I am usually taken for a 'local'. Which was very amusing especially on my 1st trip to Denmark (aged about 14) when I was continually addressed in German (which I don't speak) and must have, as a consequence, come across as being extremely slow witted. Which, of course, might have been fair comment :-)
ReplyDelete