### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ## ## ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ## ####### ####### [ For Your Own Good ] [ By Joseph ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ For Your Own Good by Joseph a four-zero-zero celebration file He smiled at the man sitting in the chair for visitors as he sat down on his couch. The kind of smile you know is not for real. It is used by teachers, bureaucrats and people you meet on the street. Its only purpose is to show you that they are not really interested in you, but will listen to you anyway. The doctor smiled again and looked straight at him. "How are we today Mr. J.?" "I'm feeling quite allright, doctor. Sorry I'm late." "It's ok, I had some journals to update anyway. Should we pick up where we stopped last week then?" "Sure, If I can remember what we were talking about. My memory doesn't work very good, as you already know. Sometimes I think that it is some kind of protection-mechanism." "Quite probable, quite probable. Well, we were talking about that visit your mother paid you a couple of weeks ago. She read some kind of article you wrote." "Ah, yes. It's all coming back to me now. Anyway, she came over to me to give me the vacuum-cleaner I had left at her place. Yes, she saw an article I had written for some magazine, 'uXu'. It was about democracy. I think that was just about as far as we came last time." "Yes, according to my journal too. So, tell me why you were so bothered with her talking about your article." "She didn't talk about it. She read it and then she said 'Son, you write good. In fact, I think your language is excellent. But why do you keep writing this stuff?' I was outraged. She didn't talk about it. She didn't want to know more about what I thought or what I had wanted with my article. She started to question my opinions and my, what should I call it, my ideology." "And that bothered you?" "Of course it fucking bothered me. If I'd been a fucking professor or one of the damn pseudo-debaters that write for the morning papers in order to keep the mob thinking that there was at least some kind of progress or debate - she wouldn't have questioned me like that. But now I was her son. So, although my arguments were in line and sparkling clear, she initiated yet another eternal rant about how fine democracy is, and how it would save us from all that is bad." "Ok, ok. Calm down. So, what did you write in that article that was so outraging to your mother then?" "I wrote that the schools should allow its pupils to study alternative forms of constitutions. In Sweden there's actually a law that says that all pupils must be raised to believe in the democratic system." "What is so bad about that? You don't want the children to be raised in a democratic manner, or?" "The bad thing is the fact that there is actually a law that says we must believe in one thing or another. Also, the schools don't offer any education in the alternatives to a democratic system. Sure, I want my kids to be raised with democratic values. But I don't want them to be raised to believe that they have to be lead by others. Even if they are the ones who vote for their leaders." "Hold it. Let's not get into some ideological discussion here. As I'm sure you understand there's a lot of other, more important, work we have to do." "I understand." "Let's try to see this from your mothers point of view. You know, I'm fond of the idea of 'glasses'. Every person has some kind of 'glasses' they put on. Some have blue shading, some have purple and some doesn't have any shading at all..." ("I guess I'm one of them who doesn't have any at all, then.") "... understanding this, and being able to look at the world through different kind of glasses, gives you an advantage: you can put yourself in their position. And sometimes, perhaps, fully understand why they react and behave differently than yourself. Do you think you can try to see the world through your mother's 'glasses'?" "It's not necessary. I don't need that. That's not the problem. No matter what kind of glasses you wear there is actually something called 'hard facts'. It's a hard fact that I'm pissed off, it's a hard fact that there is too much stupidity around me. Always these voices, always this erratic behaviour. And as if that weren't enough. My head spins from the endless monologue inside. No matter what I do, there is always this voice. Arguing, telling me how things are, constructing sentences for a future article, asking me how I feel and what I need. Alcohol used to be the answer. But now, not even that can keep my voices quiet." "Yes, you know we've talked about that nasty alcohol habit you have developed. You know from your own experience how things can turn out later in life. Please, and I am saying this as a friend, be careful with that later." "Sure. Anyway, problem number one is the voices. They keep me from sleeping and eating. Problem number two is that I'm so fucking scared. No matter where I am, I'm always afraid. Worst thing that could happen to me is probably that the mother of my girlfriend died, or that some relative to her gets married. That would force me to go to either the funeral or the wedding. I hate that. I'm so afraid of it that my body shakes even when I think of it. I can't relate to them. The people that is. They scare me with their trivial small talk and formal apperance. And always this double standard: At first, they are always formal and pretend-to-be friendly. But after some strong liquor they get all that friendly and want to talk a lot about themselves. How can you trust them?" "I believe part of your problem is that you're unable to trust adults. You and I both know what that originates from. And I think that's probably one of your greatest problems. You have to learn how to trust people. Not just people the same age as you, but adults too." "I trust no one. No one has ever proven that they can be trusted. It's just a matter of time before they let me down. It doesn't have to be big time. But it always happens. Only a fool could deny that you will always, sooner or later, be deserted by the people you trust." "See, there's your problem. Right there. I guess you're often labelled pessimist?" "Yes. People who don't know me often calls me 'pessimist' or 'cynic'. That bothers me too. I'm not a pessimist. Maybe a cynic. But not a pessimist. It doesn't matter much what I say, I always hope for the best, but expect the worst. That doesn't qualify me as a pessimist. A pessimist is someone who always expects the worst and creates the kind of situations where this prophecy could come true. An optimist is the same, only difference is that he gets disappointed more often. People seem to think that they always can label people as one thing or the other. It's a vulgar thing to do, really." "Ok, for example, how do you see the future? Do you expect to be let down by other people? Do you think you'll always be this afraid?" "Sure, I would be damn fool not to think that I would always be afraid of people. Look around you! What do you see? Do you see people being nice around you all the time? After all these years - is it world peace yet? No, you can't see any of that. Because it's in the fucking human nature to only think of themselves! Of course I'm afraid. It's actually surprising to me that you, of all people, even dare to go outside. You probably get to see more evil, more twisted people and more sorrow than anyone else. How do you cope with that? How can YOU not be afraid?" "Oh, I guess I'm plain stupid or an optimist, I would say." "Same thing. So, of course I expect people to let me down. Of course I believe that the future won't be bright. It's not the ideologies that's wrong. All things being equal, they would work fine. It's the people whom believe in them. It's the egoists. Nothing to do. Give it up! Believe in yourself. Fifty years ago, people like you and me murdered six million people, due to a complete dedication to some ideology. You know, there is actually people out there who believe in God. Or elves or Satan or Tao. How can you not be afraid of that kind of people!?" "How about yourself. Do you consider yourself to be one of them, or do you see yourself as... how should I put it, enlightened?" "No, I would be enlightened if I knew what to do about it. I don't. I've given up. You could say I'm one of them - one of the resigned. The kind of people hated by everyone. Neither the so-called intellectuals nor the mob likes you. They all think you're a loser. The mob thinks you're a loser because 'if you don't fight for what you believe in, you haven't understood anything, thus - you're is stupid.' The intellectuals hate you because they think that if you don't submit to their raging against all stupidity, you probably consider yourself as too smart. And intellectuals are probably more jealous than the mob. Nothing gets an intellectual more upset than a person being smarter, or more intellectual than himself. But I'm not smart. I can't analyse society. I can't understand what exactly it is that dumb people misconceive. There's a lots of things I can't do. But mostly that depends on the situation I'm in right now. Ha ha! But I can, however, see that there is something wrong. Terribly wrong!" "Yes, well, it's for your own good. You know that don't you!?" "Yes, for my own good, it's for my own good! I won't hurt people. Like I would like to hurt them. Like I have hurt them. Like they like me to hurt them. How surprised they would be. How surprised they look. How surprised that bitch looked. Party! - good thing I know how to. Doesn't feel good. When they don't. Hahaha! Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" The doctor reached for the intercom. "Warden! Warden!! I need some assistance in room five. Pronto!" --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #400 Underground eXperts United 1997 uXu #400 Call SOTH'S DOMAIN -> +1-401-463-8889 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------