Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Indeterminacy #428

He spoke to her, glancing up from the wheelchair. "This is my plan. You will take the roses, much like the one you see in the vase, sneak out after curfew, transplant them in the locations I told you, then slip away, hours before the dawn reveals your work. My underground greenhouse has a capacity to produce several dozen specimans a week, ripe and ready for the subversion. With a full night of setting the plants, you can instigate enough chaos to paralyze the authorities. They will not know what to do. There is no contingency for such a situation. Someone will see the roses. And the idea will be born. The regime can't stand more than two weeks of the resulting affection before it finally collapses."

"I love it!" she exclaimed to him, using the forbidden word. "And after the collapse, it will be as it was before, like in the stories you told me?"

"Yes," he answered, "you will look at a boy, he will look at you, you will sense an expectation, moments when the mere act of breathing becomes an exhilaration. He will feel the same. Somehow, mysteriously, inexplicably, you will find yourself holding hands. Oh, don't laugh, it will happen. It always did. No one could explain how. It was all quite innocent - nothing wrong in it at all, despite the official ban on affection, despite your parents' fear to practice anything else. It was the motor of our lives, before the era when love became a forgotten idea."

"Will you tell me that story again," she asked him, "it is so sad, but I always like the way you tell it to me."

"There is time until dusk, before you can begin with the roses, so why not, though it is sad for me, too, to tell it to you. I suppose it begins with the simple idea, 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' But who could have known that such a simple truth could be subverted? What if no one knows the name, what if the rose gradually becomes anonymous, completely unnoticed, forgotten. And that is what happened. It began with the regimentation in school. The continual studies, each hour planned, each afterhour filled with an assignment. It continued into the university. No time left for breathing, for a quiet meadow, for the holding of hands, for a rose. We kept everyone on a treadmill, and once the studies were completed, each was assigned an employment completely automated. No colleagues, only mechanisms and electronics to deal with. It wasn't intended, but soon it happened. Every human being was completely isolated. No one knew or had time for anyone else. With so little contact, the concept of names grew dim. Names were no longer needed, no longer thought of. Affection was the next to wither away. As this reality grew into the status quo, everything that was not this status quo became forbidden. That in itself is completely natural - regardless of what the status quo might be. People were afraid to think of anything else, afraid to break the years of conditioning that allowed no other alternative. So they continue in their established pattern, with no impetus to ever break out of it. Alone, so utterly alone, in a collective completely blind to its parts."

"It's like a dark rose the way you tell it to me," she said, an affectionate look in her eyes.

"I am the only one who can tell you this story. I was the only one who stood above the process. Fourty years long I ruled this society. I had to be aware, even if I did not consider the implications, or even understand them. But it was all my fault to have let it develop as it did..."

"I see the tears welling in your eyes, grandfather. Don't worry. I will plant the roses."

He smiled. "I know you will." Then he winked at her, and she smiled. Soon she would leave with the roses, soon they would be rooted in the public earth. They would be seen, and the pattern would break. Those who beheld would find a name for the roses. And what he did not tell her, but what he knew would be. Some boy, somewhere, would find one of the roses, would find her, and return the flower to her as a present.

Story #428

Happy New Year, and a Happy New Age! Note: This story was written last year, but seems to me to fit well to the occasion (Inauguration Day). This day, more than any other in my memory is a the beginning of a New Age...


Anonymous said...

Happy New Year! Happy new day abegining

I would love to participate in this if I could think of the great words it deserves

Indeterminacy said...

Hi Pia! A big hug for you for stopping by. I just can't wait to get home from work and watch the inauguration.

Tom & Icy said...

This is the greatest expectations I have ever seen in my life and pray it doesn't fizzle out like so many times before.

Anonymous said...

First post of the New Year, new beginnings all around. :-)

Just looking through that sidebar, Indie. What a treasure trove! I resolve to take a close look through it.

Indeterminacy said...

Tom&Icy: Just finished watching the inauguration and Obama's amazing speech - I feel like all is well with America again.

Ian: Thanks Ian! I definitely agree. You will find some pretty cool sites linked in my sidebar. Hopefully all still exist - I checked through them all a few months ago.

Unknown said...

Happy New Year, Indie. That's a sober story and a thorny one.

Indeterminacy said...

I am sober when I write these stories, not that that's a good thing.

Anonymous said...

Lovely story, and I enjoyed the song and great period feel of the video.
Let's hope he can fix some of the mess.

{illyria} said...

every time,i come here, i find that you've written something that echoes a part of mine. i think we've connected on that level.

that said, this story is so very compelling. it makes you wonder. it makes you imagine.

happy new year, my dear!

Anonymous said...

hey, that's a lovely photo.

Obama has trememdous charisma. He has seemingly innate leadership qualities that are GOOD. But, it is important to remember, he can NOT do it alone. He has sent out the call with that very moving Inaugural Speech. He has asked ALL to step up to the plate - "pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off".

He has asked for OUR Best, as much as he promises to give HIS best. I believe the man.

It is indeed a a new era as long as we ALL make the RIGHT choices. We CAN 'rise up' WITH him ...

Peace brother. Happy New Year.

Anonymous said...

p.s. Really like the 'new' set-up of blogs/sites of interest ... lots of room to roam ... Thank you.

Banno said...

Indie, it's so good to have you back. And back with a bang.

The story is so innocent and lovely in its quest for seemingly simple things. As innocent as the girl in the photo.

Really like your new blogroll. And am honoured to be part of it. Just wondering if you could change the name of my blog on your link to the name I use now.

Indeterminacy said...

Mrs Weirsdo: Thank you - maybe the story appears lovely if a lovely person reads it. In Obama's address, I saw the first crystalizations of hope.

{illyria}: Turning off everything real for a moment, I'd wish to materialize out of the shadows just beyond the light you stand in, step over to you and read this story to you personally. Thank you for your warm words.
Canadada: I found the speech sober and inspirational at the same time, saying exactly what needed to be said. That quote about picking ourselves up stood out for me too. Hope you find many interesting locations in my links. I think it's the best part of my blog, the places you can escape to :-)

Banno: You are very kind - I am happy the story made such an impression on you. Sorry about the historical blog title - I updated it. I'm afraid a lot of the sites I link to may be named differently now, than when I first added them.

Diane Dehler said...

Hi Indy, I just came by to visit and say hi. Thinking about you in Northern Cal.

Anonymous said...

passo di qui per caso
saluti from Italy

Leon1234 said...

This was a great post. Thanks!

Acquaintance said...

It feels so good to be back on blogger and read blogs like these, I wish I didn't work so much and have more time to write in my own blog. But I'm glad you still write in yours Indy, I'm slowing making a come back.


The Mushroom said...

It is important that when you pick one of these that you are careful how you grasp it. The beauty may lead you to want to put your hand on it any old way, but you will be barbed if you do not use caution when touching this. Be gentle and look where you are putting your hand.

The same holds true for the rose.

Anonymous said...


Just looking through that sidebar, Indie. What a treasure trove! I resolve to take a close look through it.

Diane Dehler said...

Hello in Springtime. Hope you are enjoying your blog break and return one of these days.

yumen said...

I found this quote....

It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naively accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks.

weirsdo said...

At first Gilroy loved having the photo of the girl above his bed. "That is the perfect girl," he thought to himself, just before undressing her in his mind. "The rose I will bring home to Mother and then marry one day."
But as the weeks went by her presence on the wall began to bother him. He no longer imagined her scent mingling with the rose's as he liften her top gently over her head. She seemed to mock him.
Also, her teeth sometimes seemed sharper, and her eyes redder than he remembered.
He tried sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed so as to reassure himself about her, but then he began to have dreams about her sitting on him, crushing his rib cage, and all the while smiling and smiling.
At last he resolved to take down the photo, but out of bravado he stuck it out one more night.
Going to check on him when his rent was late, Gilroy's landlady found him lying there, pale and wasted, smelling faintly of roses.

An_Altered_State_of_Consciousness said...

I wish I could have some of the shoes in that video.

Happy new age to all.

Cie Cheesemeister said...

"Oh Zero," said Vithou. "I'll give you a kiss on the cheek if you'll put itching powder in my brother Yama's bed."
"No thank you," said Zero. "Your brother Yama was named after the Hindu god of death for a reason. A reason such as his ability to with his bare hands crush into dust the heads of people who put itching powder in his bed."

Diane Dehler said...

Hi in July, Indy. Have a nice summer.

GPV said...

Hi Indy,
Are you bored a bit,feeling lazy or perhaps you got other things to do than blog.
I am lazy I rekon.
I hope you're not as lazy as me and we're gona hear from you soon.

k. riggs gardner said...

I agree, Indie. Public rudity is unnecessary.

Pam said...

Where did you go!? I guess I haven't stopped by your blog in quite some time. Nor have you! I hope all is well with you and your family. A quick post would be great. I'm sure many, like mysef, are wondering what happened to you.


Diane Dehler said...

Hi Indy,
Hope all is well in your world. Perhaps real time has become more captivating for you than virtual. This can be a good thing and hope you are out enjoying natural beauty and your family.
Your friend,
Princess Haiku

josh said...

this was good, nice work

Acquaintance said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Diane Dehler said...

Gosh, it's been a year and you haven't returned. Perhaps in another blog incarnation. Hope so. Belated wishes for twenty 10 should you ever stop by.

Osterreich said...

I know some people who had problems opening the page using Opera. I reopened it using Firefox and it seems to be ok.I think I see those same errors in Opera as well.Hope that helps.

Anonymous said...

Long time no post?

Create, Collaborate, Publish

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