Thursday, October 2, 2025

Strangely Brown

Another piece of news from the fascinating country of India caught my attention, this time it is not about an individual bizarreness but about a massive, huge one, so big that it is on the verge of probability in this, 2025. I do not know if the term `defecation` is suitable for use, it seems somehow sterile and does not capture the situation that prevails in India. Therefore, here is the traditional term `shit` that brings us quite precise information.

India, a country that is a nuclear power, a place where there is a space program and where aircraft carriers sail - is faced with a shameful and anachronistic problem that threatens to destroy the reputation of this ex-dominion in the world. If there is anything that indicates the drastic differences between the image that a nation, state or culture wants to promote and the reality, then it is the following...The inhabitants of the hungry country of India shit. Just like everyone else in the world shits. But somewhere this physiological need has been limited for decades and even centuries to the privacy of the toilet, the latrine, the urinal, the ``toilet''. The strong smell, the uncovered genitals and the hygienic condition require complete isolation of the place intended for shitting in relation to the rest of the dwelling.

Except in India. There they shit and urinate everywhere. On the street, at a bus or train stop, at a stadium, in broad daylight, people shit. Aside from urinate, which is not a health risk, shitting and the exposure of the population to feces that are blown everywhere and contaminate food and water - have been and still are the cause of epidemics, retro-diseases such as cholera, dysentery, diarrhea, typhus and colonization of the intestines by various intestinal parasites.

As the newspaper ``Times of India'' estimates, at least 700 million inhabitants defecate in the open every day in this country. My brain was caught off guard by this news and that's why I can't visualize that image where hundreds of millions of people empty their bowels every day on streets and alleys, in front of temples and shops, in forests and deserts, on meadows and sidewalks...Whether because of the health implications or because of international reputation - the government in India, in cooperation with the UN and its program ``Unicef'', decided to declare war on this habit! In the distant year 2014, a fierce campaign was launched to eradicate public defecation through various media projects that should raise awareness among the youngest population regarding hygiene habits. The mature and elderly population gave up, they are unlikely to give up the famous cultural feature colored in brown anyway.

A series of cartoons has come to light, which, together with a series of comics, posters, billboards and a special video game called `Toilet Trek` (!?) or `Toilet Tracks`, will have to pull India out of the deep shit, this time in a literal sense. The cartoons had their own protagonist named `Mr. Lou`, which means Mr. Poo, and their own antagonist, the disgusting villain `Mr. Pooh` (Mr. Poop). Mr. Poop, in keeping with the theme, was presented in the form of a human-sized piece of feces that moved around and created problems that Mr. Poo then had to solve as a hero (!?)

Although all this seems like a forgotten and uncensored Monty Python sketch, it is still a real situation where public money is spent on the creation of a cartoon character/stylized poop named Mr. Pooh. Whether and to what extent this program will attract young people and succeed in imprinting the role of the toilet, wiping one's behind and washing one's hands in their still unformed consciousness - only the future will tell. Judging by the results of the piles of... hmmm... UN projects from the past, there is not much room for optimism. And maybe this time there will be changes and in the future the 700 million public shitters will gradually turn to private shitting?

Until then, the stereotype of Rajiv, a dried-up Hindustani who, if he is `pushed`, will simply take off his lower clothes, kneel down and shit...on the street.

(Roger Mortis, 131)

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Antarctica Mon Amour

Ralph McBunter raised the collar of his thick jacket in an attempt to protect himself from the wind. The chances of lighting a cigarette in such a wind were equal to San Marino's chances of qualifying for the World Cup in football. That annoyed his comrade Ralph much more than the fast, icy wind that froze the whites of his eyes...And time passed slowly, in anticipation of his friend Fumiko Rantashima who was supposed to reach the once abandoned research station ``Wilkes`` on the southeast coast of Antarctica on foot. The girl set off after a brief radio communication when she announced that she would arrive in six hours at most because the new settlement was not too far from the original location where they had landed, the aforementioned ``Wilkes`` station.

However, with a delay of about an hour, a dark object began to be seen approaching through the endless whiteness. It was Fumiko. The next day, comrade Rantashima and comrade McBunter were sitting comfortably on a couch brought by the US Navy back in the fifties. The brandy and nicotine served to loosen the frozen brains, vocal cords and lips. Let the conversation begin. The conversation slowly but surely turned of its own accord to the problems and dilemmas of people who identify themselves as anarchists, of whose identification the two characters described were also a part.

Ralph began in his typical phlegmatic style - ``It's too much...there are unnecessary divisions between the already not too many anarchists in the world and those who consider themselves to be such. Although they live and work under the system they supposedly hate, they still remain slaves and servants of such a system all their lives.`

`Be a little clearer,` whispered Fumiko. `Well...so, we have two main currents - anarchists and anarchists-after-lunch-before-nap-I-want-to-be-interesting-I'll-catch-a-drink and the like, people who have never outgrown their adolescence...and the choice is simple - you're either for or against the system.' `Don't you think that's a bit too simplistic a view of the situation?', asked Miss Rantashima.

``Not at all,'' McBunter replied and continued ``I know how those thoughts go. If you peek into the head of a self-proclaimed anarchist, you will hear the following thoughts - Oh look now, we're going to do it, just to finish college, just to get a job, just to get married, just to raise the children, just to earn money for an apartment or a house, just to retire... or in translation - I will remain a slave to the system, I will not leave my comfort zone, I will do absolutely nothing in terms of my freedom or the freedom of my community to which I belong by choice... and rationalizations like - but anyway, doesn't the consciousness in heaven need to increase so that Anarchy comes... there is time, in about 114 centuries, we are only Prophets and serve as leaven for the new consciousness. Until then I'll listen to punk, read a bit of Kropotkin and wear a weird haircut...I won't exist in 114 centuries anyway.`

`Ugh, I hate you, Ralph, my friend,` Fumiko said with a smile, `I know you're probably right but I'm still having trouble adjusting to that reality.`` I hate you too, my love,` McBunter smiled and continued, leaving his newfound friend with his mouth agape...`As the Americans say, you either sell your ass to the system...or you don`t. Nevermind the anarcho this or anarcho that...And on a local and global level there is no difference. Where do you think all these divisions of anarcho-this, anarcho-that come from, do you think it comes from some practical people? All this is from theoreticians and overly educated people who have nothing in common with the `classes` in whose name they supposedly speak, and have only seen a factory in a picture.` Fumiko's eyes flashed with an unpleasant scene related to the premature death of her father, who had proudly worked all his life for one of the numerous branches of the branches of the powerful Zaibatsu corporate clans.

She tried to push the scene out of her mind...But Ralph had already got into a rhythm - `With today's level of technical development and the opportunities that are within reach of almost everyone, in at least half the world it is much easier to be outside the system than it used to be. But it requires a temporary deprivation of some of the modest comforts and, above all, a clarification with yourself, who and what you are... and how sincere your intentions are. People forget that they even fantasize about what Anarchy should look like in the 114th century... sometime after the fall of the system - that every day they `feed` that same system they supposedly hate. There are people who probably haven't heard of anarchism as a political theory but who are anarchists nonetheless. Such an example exists among the paradise of Bougainville, an island northeast of Australia where Anarchy has succeeded in practice.

More can be learned about Anarchy from these simple people than from the entire oeuvre of Kropotkin, for example. Although they are uneducated, everyday life and everyday needs have developed in them many abilities and qualities from which much can be practically learned.` Comrade Rantashima sighed, drank her brandy and decided not to interrupt Comrade Ralph, who apparently liked her even beyond ideological collegiality.

`Sincerity of intentions and willingness to be outside the system or at least to eliminate as much as possible the role of the system in the life of the individual. Or the group. Personal example is the most convincing. Dry propaganda and persuasion do not bear fruit, at least not in the last 200 years. The people are not convinced that way. When the people see that people live well that way (off the grid) they may reconsider. At least a part of them. `In short, those who declare themselves anarchists want to fuck without getting in, to receive every day from the system and remain - innocent...`

Fumiko could not keep quiet - `Ralph, it seems you have not read much history`. `Not too much, I admit` Ralph answered and continued - `There are no such examples from history. The alleged infiltration of the system as a way to change it is just a cover for hypocrisy and fear. It is the same as if someone is ready to circumcise themselves or have someone's clitoris cut off in order to become a Muslim and change Islam from the inside. And they say they are - atheists. Complete logical nonsense. It is expected as expected and leaving a backup option...to be ready when it is necessary to pay a loan installment or go on vacation somewhere.`

`The system is corrupt, irrational and inhuman to the extreme. Everyone who is part of it is partially or totally corrupt, irrational and inhuman. You are either for it or against it.` ``Maybe all this is just the result of a misunderstanding,'' Fumiko began. ``Because anarchism and Anarchy are not synonyms, something that even anarchists themselves do not understand. The former is a theoretical doctrine and political ideology that speaks of a society without a state, without power, without imposed authority. Anarchy is a state of statelessness, powerlessness and the absence of vertical authorities. The saddest thing is that it does not require who knows what resources. Just honesty and perseverance.` ``Exactly, my dear, honesty,`` Ralph intervened. ``Why would someone who would work in the system, who would use at least the scraps he gets, all the small comforts and advantages that ``infiltration'' would provide him, give up all that... in the name of some moral principle?

Especially if he comes from a poor background and his scraps seem like the Rocks of Gibraltar...or if he has started a family...even if it is the end, or if he has taken out loans...he will become a penitent, you know, like those ex-smokers or ex-meat eaters or ex-members of another tribe who are the most vocal in the persecution of yesterday's 'colleagues'. `This is probably where idealism should come into play,' Fumiko smiled and added with mild irony...`and maybe Santa Claus and the Christmas Bunny...``It should, but idealism is a great luxury,' Ralph interjected - `idealism makes you ignore biological nature, say goodbye to evolutionarily built-in mechanisms. That is why it is so rare and represents the highest level of existence that a Homo sapiens sapiens can reach by putting drives, instincts, fears under complete control, to stop being a slave to biology. Although it is very likely that he will suffer on that path. Despite everything.

Miss Rantashima took advantage of Ralph's silence and began - "Nobody wants freedom. Not really. Because it implies full responsibility for their actions, their attitudes, their life and their surroundings. There is no one to `export` that responsibility to. And people would give a kidney, a testicle or half a uterus to be able to export as much responsibility for their actions as possible to an external factor that will carry their cross, or at least serve as a support, crutches that Jesus did not have when he climbed to Golgotha." And she continued - ``Orwell grumbled something that freedom is the ability to say that two and two make four, that everything else follows naturally. If we reflect this on time, and since I am not trying to sell originality - I will say that life consists of time. There is no other measure of `unit of life` that is as comprehensive as time.

In that case, freedom could be measured by calculating how many of the 24 hours a day are available to us in the way we ourselves think we should spend them, how much of the time in life is "ours" and we can give it to ourselves and to those who mean something to us. For a few moments Ralph and Fumiko were silent, occasionally glancing at each other. Ralph, having a little more alcohol in him, continued - ``The calculation was devastating. That was the beginning of the road that brought us to Antarctica. Because there are no states here, no priests and abbots, no bureaucrats. `There is nothing else,' examples Fumiko... ``except our desire for Anarchy. And that of our like-minded people, who are not few. Wilkes Station is already full and expanding every month. We are now building a new settlement, as you know. You should come and visit us soon.

`Of course,' said Ralph. `I must tell you that I will not come only for the settlement, but more for you.' `Maybe so,' Fumiko replied, `why not.' `You know what, Ralph, I don't think I would like you so much if we lived in Dumfries or Osaka, but here in Antarctica...'Under the sun of the polar day, Ralph and Fumiko's simultaneous laughter hinted at a spark of emotional development.

(Roger Mortis, 130)