|
|||||||||||||
The Philosopher Between the Capitalist and the Communist Chapter 17 : A New Situation, or a New World? By Punkerslut
Roz and Pan were planning expeditions to Greece and Babylon, but they were each diverted in their attempts. Every time they were about to depart in their voyage against the hearts of these empires, a village would be attacked within Anarchia, drawing them back towards the threatened area. The Anarchist soldiers were always at the borders, partly preparing to launch an attack and partly preparing to defend against one, but for all of the struggle, all of the blood and hate and anger and humanity, they remained stationary. They were constantly this thin line of soldiers responding and reacting to invasions by Statist Armies, but never could they amount to a power that could overwhelm either the Babylonian Empire or the Greek Empire. The vast stretches of land gave the Anarchists a greater area of productivity, but also a significantly wider stretch of perimeter to defend. There was no more neutral territory where vast numbers of guerrilla troops could move into and out of without causing notice or alarm to the local, political elite. Outside of Anarchia, there were no more villages where the Communists or Capitalists were an extreme minority compared to everyone who existed somewhere in between. Inside of the Anarchist territory, there were no more villages where the Statists were in the majority and the Anarchists were in the minority. Every speaker gave lectures to crowds that had already made up their own minds, every publisher produced books for readers who already knew what they wanted to read. Even in the skies and among the clouds, the cackling hoard of birds diving and swooping doesn't resemble the grace of a sole creature wafting the winds, but they were more like an overcrowded assemblage of ugliness and discoordination and beastliness. There were even a few citizens, some of them pretending to be philosophers, who would exaggerate that the air is so thick and full of polarized atoms, that you can't breathe in without needing to cough up something that has no reasonable purpose in your lungs.
While Roz and Pan chased away the enemy any time it lurked near Anarchist land, Emma and Benjamin were back at Anarchia, organizing communication, education, work, healthcare, and trade among so many, separate and distinct villages. There was one brilliant, Anarchist educator who had learned to speak six different languages fluently, in order to teach six different villages each within a short distance of each other, who they had nicknamed Ferrus, after the metal in iron ore -- a red metal was quite fitting in the case of this working-class teacher. There was one daring, Anarchist sailor who had smuggled trade goods out of the city and essential supplies into the city more than one hundred times without detection by either Communist, Capitalist, or Coalition-Nation Forces, who they had nicknamed Aquas, after the reflections of the seas -- a color quite fitting in the case of this solitary captain. Anarchia had its heroes, Communist and Capitalist, with every economic outlook in between represented by some bold, thoughtful, willing, compassionate, and spirited individual. But no amount of sentimentalism could change borders that separated hundreds of millions of people from each other. The divide was about to get thicker.
|
