Sideshows

"Have a seat lad, today's the day I tell you some home truths that you already know but aren't going to like." That was the greeting that Sully gave me as I walked nervously into his bar after receiving his summons. A summons from Sully is two things, not something to be ignored, and probably bad for the person that received it. I figured I was two for two. I looked around with a bit of trepidation wondering if this meeting was going to end like the last one I had with Sully's "people". He noticed my sideways glances around the room, and chuckled "No lad there's none of that unpleasantness planned for you today, at least in the physical sense. I'm about to be cruel to you, and by the time I am finished you may have wished I'd just ordered the boys to give you another beating." I sighed, I had taken a couple of beatings from Sully's boys (as he like to call them, fucking goons is what they are), and if somehow this promised to be worse, then my outlook for having a super sparkly day decreased in a major way. "Ok Sully, I'll play the rube and bite, what do you have to tell me that is so important and so cruel?"

Sully looked at me with something akin to compassion, levered himself out of his seat (In case I've not mentioned it, Sully is a large, large man), walked to the bar taps, and poured himself and me two pints. That's when I knew it must be bad news, Sully is not exactly the generous type, and certainly not to mutts like me. We are not, and never have been known to be the share a pint, and talk about football and boobs kind of friends. In fact, I'm not exactly sure I call Sully a friend, not an enemy, but certainly not a friend. Coming back to the table, Sully pushes the pint glass to me, then pauses, pulls it back, takes a flask from his inside pocket, and pours a dash of some amber liquid into the space he left on purpose into my pint. He then takes the flask puts it to his lips drinks a good measure, and says "just a bit of a bracer to help the story along" as he pushes the now "enhanced" pint in my direction.

"Drink that, keep your gob shut, and listen to old Sully for a change, and maybe I'll give you another one, you'll probably need it." I nodded sipped my pint and waited for the cruelty to begin. "I am not the wordsmith you are lad, and I didn't have the proper schooling to teach me all those fancy words you use to try to talk yourself out of the debts you owe me, so I'll be as straightforward as possible. The main thing is this, you're a sideshow, and have been for quite a while. Me and the other lads have sat by and watched you become one, and at first it was a laugh. I mean, we made several bets on whether you knew it or not, how long it would last, and if you were the bearded lady or not." this last bit was followed by a laugh and another tug at the flask. "I get it Sully, and I am glad I could be a source of amusement for you and the baboons you call lads." He put up a forestalling hand "Now, now lad, no sense in getting up on your hind legs for no reason. I said at first. After a while I sorted out that you knew it, I mean I know you're a clever lad, and were okay with it, at least at first. Then I started to pay more attention to you, and your behaviour. I know you lad, we go way back, and I can tell, generally, what is going on in that maze that passes for your mind, call it a gift."

"That is why I've decided to tell you, that you're a sideshow. I think you know it, but just refuse to believe it yourself. That lack of self-belief has been one of your biggest problems all your life. Realize that you're a sideshow, you will always be underfunded, under appreciated, and under attended. That's the nature of a sideshow. You're like East Africa in the Great War (for Sully that meant World War I), and you're Paul von Lettow-Vorbeck, the Kraut bastard. Sure, you give the people you have to merry hell, and you're fucking brilliant while doing it, but you're still tucked away in the ass end of nowhere, with ten percent of the time, attention, and material of the real shooting match going on miles away from you. It is that shooting match, the real show, the big leagues that you long to participate in, but you think you've got triple A talent, and the big show would chew you up, and spit you back out again. And you might be right, and that thinking is probably the problem. As long as you believe your talent is triple A, it will be. It is a self-fulling prophecy, you think it hard enough and it becomes true just by your belief in it."

Sully noticed my look of surprise at the Lettow-Vorbeck reference, and laughed "I said I didn't have the proper schooling lad, not that I did have some schooling of my own. But back to you, I watched the arc of your realization of being a sideshow, for those who know you, and who can be arsed to pay attention (both of which I do) it was a plain as a child's notebook written in crude crayon. For someone as bright as a new penny, as you seem to be, you can be amazingly dense at times, like a neutron star. It was clear when the particular circus that brought you to this situation came to town, that you were as smitten as a schoolboy. You ran amok among the cotton candy, and the funnel cake, gorging yourself on the attraction, and intoxicated by the novelty. Your mistake, and I place no blame on you for the making of it, was you finally thought you had made the "show." You were wrong, and it is a damn shame that I have to be the one to tell you, it does not bring me anything close to joy."

I nodded and pointed to my now empty pint glass, "well professor Sully might I trouble you for another pint of this piss you pass off as beer in this fine dining establishment?" Sully grumbled something that could have been confused for, in the proper dim lighting, a laugh, and pointed to the tap, "help yourself you daft bastard, not like you don't know your way around a bar, you've been going to them since you were fucking 8 years old." I acknowledged the point, got up and refilled our glasses, I did not leave room in mine for whatever rocket fuel Sully had added to the first one, I may be getting bad news, but there's no need for suicidal behaviour.

I sat back down, handed Sully his pint, and motioned for him to continue his surgical dissection of my life, it's not like I could stop him, and I somehow doubted I was exactly "free to leave." "Now lad where was I? Right, you and the funnel cake, you always were mad for funnel cake, even the real kind, must be your father coming out in you." I hissed "Sully", but he put up a hand "I know you hated the man lad, and that wasn't meant to get your hackles up, just an observation. But, as you know, too much funnel cake can make you sick either to your stomach, or in your case to your heart. I'm not clever enough to help you, or anyone in your situation find the right decision to make, and it isn't like you'd listen to me even if I were to try. I can provide you pints, whiskey, and maybe the occasional "revue" type distraction (the last said with a knowing wink), but I can't pluck you out of the wilderness in which you've stumbled. That I fear, is as you like to put it "a you problem". All I can do is tell you that you're a sideshow, and I doubt that is too much of a shock to your system.

"What you do with the knowledge is entirely up to you, and is your business. I am not sure if this particular carnival is going home, or if its Ferris Wheel is spent or not. I am fairly certain that is something you are struggling to figure out as well. I do hope, for your sake, that you figure it out soon, and you don't climb back into that pint glass like you are wont to do. But, again that is a "you problem" and I will probably pour you as many as you need, or at least as many as I think you need before I have one of those baboons you mention throw you out on your drunken ass. Speaking of which it's time for you to leave, and go where ever it is you need to be. I've other business to attend to, and I think I've given you enough to chew on, and to drink for tonight."

I finished my pint, stood up, and said "as always Sully it's been an experience, at least this one could pass as pleasant." He laughed and waved me to the door, already moving on to the next "problem" he was tasked to "solve." That's our Sully, problem solver extraordinaire. If only...

Day(s) of Independence

Today is, as the (two at most) dedicated readers of this blog, and maybe the four people who listen to me in real life, is my Independence Day. The day, over a decade ago now, that the marriage I so foolishly entered into dissolved, or rather was dissolved by the court system. Today is the day that the paperwork was made official, like the publishing of an obituary weeks after someone had already died. It seems fitting, I suppose, that paperwork made it an official death after all, paperwork had to give its official "life" as well. We are drowning in both fables and paperwork. Fables in the sense that "death do us part" really means what we think it means when we say it, and paperwork to be filled out when we figure out that somethings are worse than death (i.e. staying married to me).

Of course the paperwork was merely the "death certificate" the patient (in this case the marriage) had been dead, though not quite buried, for weeks before the decree made it official for the world to see, not that anyone particularly cared to see. Very few people wait out these kinds of death with anything approaching happiness, those that do are a breed apart. I still keep my copy just in case disbelieving people ever doubt that somewhere in the world there was a woman daft enough, or naive enough (depending on your viewpoint) to ever expect that I was the marrying type. I guess she should have listened to the Wolf That Raised Me and I quote "you're (me) just aren't the marrying type." That was an honest if brutal bit of home truth coming from the Wolf, and it was topped off by being said to me on Christmas Day. Never let it be said I didn't inherit something of my personality from the Wolf.

Many days of "independence" have passed since the original one, and I figure it is time to move on from celebrating this particular day like it is anything special. After all, everyone has moved onward, and upward since then, and we do not speak. Maybe in someway each and every day is a day of independence or maybe I just changed masters and haven't the good sense to realize it, or maybe I just have one less master. If one was to ponder what went wrong with the whole idea, one reaches the inevitable conclusion that, for the most part, it was (and remains) my fault. The Wolf didn't raise me without knowing what kind of monster she had on her hands.

Most people like their independence, the ability to not wear pants around the house if we choose not to is a glorious thing. Independence is often equated with freedom. The freedom to eat what I want if I am hungry, to sleep when I am sleepy, to have a wank when I want to is the kind of freedom that most people can agree is a lovely experience. But is it really freedom? After all, you can eat that double cheeseburger laced with enough bacon to kill a bull moose if you want, but then when your pants (if you bother to wear them) don't button anymore what price freedom? Can you really sleep when you want? Well of course not, unless you're sans job, or independently wealthy, you probably have some sort of job to pay for those double cheeseburgers. I've yet to convince my bosses that a "napping couch" should be provided for the post lunch nap that I seem to require on a daily basis. And people generally frown upon wanking in public.

Society, whether you choose to actively participate in it or not, is designed to restrict your (and everyone else's) freedom. Rules, regulations, and laws govern our daily activity in more restrictive ways than a wife or husband could every dream to do. Of course, the paperwork that seals the deal on the becoming a wife or a husband isn't really necessary. There are a lot fewer dynasties to think of preserving the line of succession for these days, and it is unlikely any royals are reading this post. It is, in many ways, "just a piece of paper." But, for many that piece of paper means a lot more than the words written upon it, or the vows spoken aloud to as many friends as could make it to the actual ceremony where you proclaim them.

That paper doesn't mark your (or her) surrender of freedom, it doesn't mean you've restricted your independence (independence isn't like submarine warfare, it is very, very rarely unrestricted) Independence isn't all that it is cracked up to be, trust me. Maybe like Germany in World War I you chose and bad "dance partner" and sometimes that is a lesson that you just have to learn in person. People can tell you "Austria-Hungary is no good for you, and it is all going to end in tears." But, until you shed a few of those real tears after figuring it out for yourself, you just never really know for sure.

While you have become independent of each other, you (and presumably her as well) have not taken the veil or the monastic robes and sworn yourselves to a life of chaste, silent contemplation of the mysteries of faith and the gods. There will be other people in your life, and the trick (and it is a very, very difficult trick) is to make sure that you've figured out what freedom means, and what independence you require, and when you happen upon the next "one" (and there will be a next "one" I promise), you understand that people are not, in fact, like horses and past performances should not be a predictor of future behavior. I both wish you luck, and hope for a little luck of my own in this endeavour. After all, we are in this together. Bon chance!!!!

RE: J____s' Plan

To: Citizen U_____y

From Citizen S_________v


Citizen,

Your apologizes are unnecessary, it is clear that your information is outdated by several weeks, and to be honest it would be a surprise if you did know who I am. Events have overtaken us, and by the time you receive this missive I may well have been placed against a wall and shot (like my two predecessors). If that unfortunate event happens to take place (and perhaps even if it doesn't) my advice to you is two simple words "save yourself."

Your brief history of the Empire's adopting the Five Year Plan, instituting it, and then replacing it with the J_____s' Plan was helpful, but only up to a certain point. I was not around for the "Bloody Congress" of which you speak (and gloss over how intense it really was, I do read my history). The intricate details of both plans have seemed to escaped your attention, or perhaps you were just being circumspect in your recounting of events. Caution is a virtue in these troubled times, and one should take a "keep your powder dry" viewpoint in all their dealings with others. Especially others that they do not know, and aren't certain where their loyalties lie.

I do not know if you are an Elephant or a Bucatini, or a radical member of some splinter group that has yet to give itself a catchy name, thus I do not pretend to know to whom or to what (if anything or anyone) you are loyal to. This makes communication difficult, and since you gave me very little in the way of hints in your letter it might be best for a face to face meeting to obviate the need for putting things in writing.  However, there are certain things that are so well known that writing them down will do no one any harm, or at least that is the great hope.

The Central Committee as you clearly have yet to realize, has become a ramshackled shell of its former self. The glory of the Five Year Plan, and the brilliance of the super seceding  J____s' Plan have been replaced by shambolic chaos the likes that the Empire hasn't seen since the Peterson insurgency (during the years you refer to quite rightly as the "Death Valley" Years).  Those were dark times in the Empire, and it almost didn't survive, and I fear that a return to those days may well neigh be upon us even as we speak. It is a sobering thought that the Empire, so recently a place of prosperity, and progress, could be plunged back into such a dark place, but I fear that threat is all too real.

There does exist hope for the Empire, but it will require men such as yourself to remain loyal, true, and steadfast. We must cling to the ideals that built the Empire as we know it today. Ideals that led to the adoption of the J____s' Plan to begin with. Sober ideals founded upon simple things like justice, beauty, and a strain of large R romanticism that led to the flowering of the Empire's arts, as well as a reorganization of its finances, and governing bodies.  I understand that out (there) on the perimeter (as you place yourself) it is hard for you to obtain clear, precise, and truthful information. Up is Down, Black is White, and the whole world has suddenly turned smart.

Know that plans are in place here in the Center (if it can hold) that will hopefully resolve the tensions in the Empire as soon as possible. If the chaos can be contained, the infection cut out of the heart of the Empire, then it will be able to recover its balance and move forward on the path laid out for it in either the J____s' Plan, or it will have to evolve and formulate a new plan to replace it.  There have been rumblings that the Five Year Plans adherents have recently experienced a upsurge in popularity, but those rumors are, as yet, unproven.  If you have any information regarding any of those rumors, please pass it along, the one thing the Center needs (other than a backbone, and common sense) is information.  Information has been devilishly hard to come by in recent times, and the lack of it may be responsible for the untimely demise of at least one of my predecessors.

The ES, as you so rightly observed have not been eradicated, and remain a real, if minor nuisance. We lack the resources (some say courage) to monitor them too closely, and must always be on the lookout for any of their agents placed among us. They are a virulent lot, and have no love of the Empire, and we can only hope that the Black Hats can keep them in some sort of check. The Pellrin province may be lost to us (it is too soon to tell), but rather lose a finger than the whole hand eh?

I close this missive with the repeated advice,the best I can give during these troubled times. Keep your powder dry.

Yours,

Citizen S_________v

 

J____s' Plan

To: Comrade in charge of the Committee of Central Planning

From: Comrade U_____y

Comrade,

I apologize for my inability to provide a more "personal" address for this missive, but with the seemingly daily changes in the Committee of which you are the new head, I am at a loss to determine who, if anyone, is in charge. Again, my apologies and I hope you (whomever you are) have a long and successful career. But on to the reason for this report.

Four years ago (give or take) the Empire embarked upon a Five Year Plan masterful in its scope. At the time the Empire was drifting like a rudderless ship adrift at sea. The Plan (as it will henceforth be called) was the result of considerable thought by the, then head, of the Committee which you now chair, and was passed at the full plenary of the party by a vast majority. There was, and remains, some dissenters who believe(d) the plan was too ambitious for the Empire to undertake at the time, and that a scaled down version of it would have been a more realistic goal. I, along with the men of the majority voted overwhelmingly to put the Plan into place. Little did we know at the time, what that would mean for the Empire.

The first year of the Plan went relatively smoothly, or as smoothly as any newly implemented plan can be expected to go, and as smoothly as anything can be expected to go in this Empire. However, as you may or may not know (I have no idea who you are, therefore I can not presume upon your knowledge), shortly after year One, the Empire experienced a major upheaval in the form of the Elephant conspiracy. This caused a fair amount of upheaval in the Empire, and made it necessary for another Party congress to convene to decide how the Empire was to react. After a brief, but furious struggle the Elephant party won control of the Central Committee, and was able to implement a new plan to replace the Five Year Plan.

This new planned, dubbed the J____s plan after its leading proponent, was a sharp departure from the Five Year Plan. It was more open, more of a "leap of faith" than the previous plan, but it had (or so it seemed at the time) almost unlimited potential to make the Empire "the land where happiness is King" (or so the slogan ran). Again, there were some dissenters who argued that the J____s Plan was pie in the sky thinking, and that the unbridled optimism it entailed would lead to an eventual disaster on the scale that even this Empire had never before witnessed. They argued it was economic adventurism, politically naive, and diplomatic suicide. The Congress that eventually passed the J____s Plan to replace the Five Year Plan was nasty, brutal, and many old comrades found themselves on opposite sides of the aisle during the debate, and would wind up never speaking to each other again (or even about each other, such was the acrimony) has been called the "Bloody Congress." Even though no actual blood was spilled the Party had virtually bled itself white during the debate.

The J____s Plan after its implementation, promised a new dawn for the Empire. It held that a unprecedented age of prosperity, wisdom, and general happiness was going to reinvigorate the Empire, and that the Five Year Plan's age of gloom and doom was a thing of the past. And you know what Comrade? Those damn Elephants (as they came to be called) were right. The Empire opened it borders (some even say its heart) and flourished. Trade became easier, travel became (more or less) unrestricted (like submarine warfare should be), and a period of general good will infected the Empire. Certainly there were a few hold out to the general good mood that permeated the general population (the ES for example) but they were mostly contained in the Pellrin province, and were unable to gain much traction or cause too much upset to the Empire. After all the Empire had not become so intoxicated with happiness that the Black Hats were disbanded.

This "golden age" lasted for around three years, and it seemed as if the last hold outs opposing it had been consigned to the "dustbin of history." However, like most good things it could not last. As you (whoever you are) have to now the recent Bucatini insurgency has led to suspension of the J____s Plan, and many fear to its eventual total collapse. There are rumblings in my province, and the surrounding ones that the Committee has failed us. That it has become a shambolic, disinterested, bumbling shell of its former self, and that the Empire's very existence is under threat.

Out here on the perimeter there are no "stars" of either Elephants or Bucatinis to sway, instruct, incite, or lead us. Out here we are like stones, we have lost the senses to perceive what the "right" path is, we are lacking direction, and feel as rudderless as the Empire was before the Five Year Plan was adopted. Those "Death Valley" years, if you lived through them, are something that must not be repeated. Those few thinking men left among us know that a return to those years will surely be the end of the Empire as a viable entity.  Therefore, it has devolved upon me as the senior cadre member here, to write this letter, this cri de coeur to ask for guidance. To beg for some clarity in a world that appears to be collapsing in upon itself. The Empire, a beacon for many, is dimming, and is in danger of being extinguished completely unless strong men act with the courage of their convictions, and lead it out of the morass in which it finds itself.

I, as well as many, await further instruction/guidance from some member of the Committee for Central Planning, if such a Committee still exists, and it is our fervent hope that it still does.

Signed, with faith in the Empire

Comrade U______y