Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

Nobel, Not Noble: Fictitious Fiction Is An Addiction

October 6, 2017

Another Nobel for a guy telling stories about guys he invented in his head. Especially butlers. The context is great for the established order: Japanese boy born in Nagasaki, moves to Britain, and then, instead of fuming with anger and radiation, the good little Jap boy lauds British plutocracy and its underlings, and gets lauded in turn. Speak about a modern fable! beats the Forty-seven Ronins anyday!

In The Remains of The Days, Ishiguro vaguely alludes to the ties between the British aristocracy and the Nazis. Well, those ties were deep, and were fully deployed when Hitler was still a boy (the fascist in chief of Germany, the “Kaiser” never fail to mention them, and felt much encouraged that way). Watch the aristocrat (and Nobel Laureate) Bertrand Russell  doing his best during World War One, so that Europe would fall under the boot of Prussian Fascism (Russell went to jail for it; yes, I love and esteem Russell, but I spit for his plutocratic passion for fascism). Yes, it’s valuable this little fable of The Remains of The Days, but it’s so small in value, you know, and the universe of things we may consider, we have to consider, so much bigger! If one wants to study the connection between the Anglo-Saxons and Hitler, one should get serious and exhume serious documents, not invent little fables.

Long live the Nobel Committee whose obsequious servitude to Anglo-Saxons, attributes most literature prizes to those speaking English, even if they have to find them from Japan, especially if they have to find them from Japan… after finding them in the incoherent mumblings of a rocker who is as PC as Perfect Corruption gets. (Let me listen to some Bob, to celebrate!)

Some will say, oh, no, Kazuo Ishiguro is a British critical of British butlers. The Nobel clowns wrote: “who, in novels of great emotional force, has uncovered the abyss beneath our illusory sense of connection with the world.”

Shouldn’t we consider that people are wasting the time this civilization has to set things right, by reading soporific novels, about invented characters? Instead of learning about reality? Or instead of waking up with the robust flavor of full-blown characters from real history?

Fiction is fictitious, reality, historical.

Nobel Committee Says modern historians, hence the colossal historian Plutarch (above) himself, have no value. Value comes, say the Stockholm jesters, with their secret exploitation agenda, from making up stories. Just as the plutocracy does, a secret, deep subconscious message, for those who aren’t too smart

By never rewarding (anymore) serious thinking on real issues, the Nobel Committee says, implicitly, that modern historians, hence Plutarch himself, and philosophy in general, have no value. Value comes from affabulators making little stories with their little minds. 

[“Affabulator”, somebody making fables, a word in italian, Spanish, French, does not exist in English: court-jester is an erroneous translation; it’s high time to introduce it, since Stockholm thinks the only worthy language is English! So i did!]

The obsession with fiction is an addiction, of those who want to flee reality. And an obvious source of the lack of reflection of today’s potentially catastrophic world.

Think of it: consider what was written two millennia ago and which is still read today. Much of it is non-fiction. Nobel.Org should read more classics!

Right, there are fictional texts still read today, such as Homer, the Greek tragedies, Egyptian fables (recycled in the Bible),  Chinese and Japanese stories which are fiction and very old, and very instructive. But even the Vedas had the pretense to be “knowledge” (what Vedas mean).  

But more than half of the most important literature, from way back, is non-fiction.

The Nobel Committee neglects real serious reflection. It does not seem to understand the interest of history, or reflection thereupon. Most prestigious Greek or Roman authors still read today would not qualify as worthy of consideration, according to the clowns in Stockholm (OK, Sweden never attuned for its crimes with Hitler, and the wealth thus gathered, this is directly related, see below).

The Nobel Committee, in its anti-civilizational arrogance, and basic immorality, tells us that the genre of literature Hesiod, Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Plato, Aristotle, Zeno of Citium, Polybius, Cicero, Lucretius, Livy, Pliny (Elder or Younger), Plutarch, Lucan, Juvenal (heavy-handed satyre), Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Julianus, Plotinus, among many others, engaged in, was not worthy. Most of classical literature is unworthy, Stockholm calmly suggests.

This attitude to spit on real intellectuals, and the very nature of their work, causes real damage to civilization, because it encourages misunderstanding of civilization itself.

For example, there a gigantic Frankish/Gallic literature, which has not been translated from  late Latin, a language nobody can read. Often written by ecclesiastics, that undiscovered treasure trove of literature documents the Dark Ages of the Imperium Francorum. That was when Western Civilization was created, in an epic mental struggle, as a distinction from, and an improvement upon, the Greco-Roman civilization. Greco-Roman civilization had a  sinister relationship to slavery, unbounded plutocracy, and, in its last, terminal phase, to a theocratic fascism so thorough, most literature, knowledge and culture got destroyed).

Nobody seems interested in translating and uncovering these roots of our civilization, our world civilization: there is no money, no glory, thus no interest in it. If a Nobel was given to historian digging deep in history, wealthy money traps such as Harvard or Stanford would no doubt pay more attention to how civilization arose (and, thus, can be sustained). Meanwhile the Nobel clowns reward all the well-fed fable lauding the establishment makers that they can find.

Stockholm does not care about any of this. It’s an apparent case of the Stockholm syndrome. Sweden sent the highest grade iron ore to Hitler, so Hitler could build weapons to terrorize the world with. Finally France and britain decided to cut that “Iron Road”. After landings in occupied Norway, the French Foreign Legion put Nazi elite divisions to flight, and the next strategic move scheduled by the Franco-British High Command, was to cut Sweden in two, and occupy the iron mines (however France fell). The idea was to starve Hitler of steel.

In the so-called “Stockholm Syndrome” a prisoner falls in love with his/her kidnappers. Did Hitler steal Sweden’s soul? Did Sweden fall in love with Hitler, and thereafter with fiction… To escape the reality that Sweden, the country, never attuned for its considerable crimes in the rise and blossoming of Nazism? It’s seems likely. So now it prefers to honor those who write about imaginary butlers. Just as Sweden was Hitler’s butler? No, way worse: without Sweden, Hitler couldn’t have re-armed. Reality always beat fiction! Be it only in sheer imagination!

How come that most prizes in literature are given to English-speaking people? For the same reason as Sweden loved Hitler: there is money in it, and it’s PC to pay one’s respect to the biggest thug on the block. At least by the Swedish establishment standards…

A general objection to my point of view could be that historical analysis, and philosophy in general, can also merge with fiction. Yes, sure. At some point, one has to do guess-work, that’s fiction. For example most theoretical physics starts as fiction. So does much of mathematics too. Philosophy, and, more generally, any creative thinking is, at least in part, serious guesswork in the beginning, always. Or then, it’s not really new!

When Nobel died, it was not clear whether the organization of the prize should go to Sweden or France. Nobel lived in France. After one of his wealthy brother died in Cannes, a French paper front page read: “Le marchand de la mort est mort” (“The merchant of death is dead.”) Alfred Nobel established the prizes to avoid precisely the sort of posthumous reputation suggested by this premature obituary. Another thing Nobel did (while two of his brothers developed the Baku oil fields) was to found the Bofors factory. When the Nazis needed guns, they went to Bofors, which gave them the 88mm Nazi gun, which became by far the number one Nazi guns, used both against aircraft and tanks.

France should certainly create an anti-Nobel prize, attributed mostly to those nationalities Nobel.Org neglects. That would be more useful than the Cannes Festival.

Nobel is not noble: this is the second time this week I had to fire a broadside at the Nobel Organization for lying and wallowing in mud. Yes, Rome too, got Perfect Corrupted by the head.  Enough of this pro-fascist monkeys! There is nothing more noble that the honor of the human spirit. Yes, time to get love-sick for the grandeur of civilization, and the task at hand, to save what maybe the only life form in the universe, intelligent enough to self-criticize.

Patrice Ayme’


Reality Beats Fiction Always. Time to Learn This Again!

October 8, 2015

Let’s hope Angela Merkel gets the Nobel Peace Prize for her courageous stand to accept hundreds of thousands of war refugees. This is political dynamite, she handled it as well as possible, as a teacher of the highest values. A rare case of a Western “leader” displaying courage and creativity.

Meanwhile the Nobel in literature was given to reality. Svetlana Alexievich, a Belarussian journalist, born in Ukraine, a prose writer known for deeply researched works about female Russian soldiers in World War II and the aftermath of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, won the Nobel Prize in Literature on Thursday “for her polyphonic writings, a monument to suffering and courage in our time,” the Swedish Academy announced. (The other day the Nobel was implicitly given to history, 23 centuries old. If they recognize history, the Nobel folks may as well recognize reality.)

Ms. Alexievich,67, 14th woman to win the literature prize, is a rarity: her sparse work is mainly nonfiction.

Work Makes Free: the Murderous Nazi Thieves’ Outrageous Slogan. The Reality of Nazism Ought To Have Beaten To Death The Soft Fiction Of Deluded Humanism

Work Makes Free: the Murderous Nazi Thieves’ Outrageous Slogan. The Reality of Nazism Ought To Have Beaten To Death The Soft Fiction Of Deluded Humanism

Yes, in World War Two, short in skilled personnel, the USSR used women in combat. Some even commanded tanks. And it’s mostly with tanks, better tanks, but maybe at the cost of twenty million soldiers killed in combat, that the Soviet Union beat Nazi Germany. I remember reading an Italian non-fiction book. After hard fighting in Ukraine, the author was stunned to see a beautiful Russian blonde dead in her punctured tank (not her tank top, her T34 tank). Take that, fiction authors! Where is your reality?

What’s literature? “Litera”, original Latin for “letter” came to mean ‘document’ and ‘letter, epistle’. “Literatura” is ‘writing formed with letters, book learning’. Nothing there said it has to be fiction. However in French literary circles, ‘literature’ has come to mean ‘fiction’. I view fiction as, mostly, an inferior sort. It is to reality what pornography is to sex. And not even that.

Any fiction is inspired by reality: after all, reality is where minds come from. However, confusing fiction with reality can be a trap. The authors of fiction who are known made their work marketable (otherwise they would not be known). But marketing is not enticing with thinking: it entices with seduction. Marketing perverts thinking, it’s sugar for canned minds.

And a canned mind, is not a kind mind. Or, more exactly, a canned mind is as good as the can it is in. Beware of cans, especially of the mental type: after a while, they turn bad, and fester with live toxins.

In contrast, by evoking reality, one can dare to go where the market does not want to go, and where the market cannot go. Facts are facts, they are not made to be comfortable. Facts are, all too often, not something one wants to buy. Why? Because we have turned into a society which confuses market and civilization. We ask, we tolerate to have the “markets” of everything and guide us.

It was high time the Nobel literature committee recognize that being able to present reality, especially reality in all its harshness, is more important than presenting someone’s fiction as if it were reality (as novelists are wont to do with wanton abandonment!) In one case, sticking to reality, one tries to stick to what is, and in the other, confusing reality and fiction, one admittedly do away with reality, at the outset, and replace reality with what can be sold to the little minds of the shoppers, avid and standardized.

Humanity has to be educated. This is what literature is for. Literature is not just intellectual masturbation. Too much sugar for too long makes one sick, and it’s a modern disease (one aspect is called diabetes, and kills, ages and degenerates its victims). Sugar drinks ought to be rejected. Similarly all too easy, all too comfortable fiction. Bring forth reality, the maker of worlds.

Considering reality, in full, is uncomfortable.

What do people foresee if the West Antarctic Ice Shield (WAIS), the Wilkes Basin and the Aurora Basin all collapse at the same time? Sea level may augment as fast as one meter per year.

I speculate: that’s 30 times faster than the most recent peer-reviewed scientific papers by specialists.

I speculate, but in full cognizance of striking elements of reality, catastrophes such as the sudden flooding of the Black Sea region, or flooding of the Mediterranean Basin, or the collapse of the Hudson Bay ice shield, or the Younger Dryas’ sudden collapse of the Gulf Stream current, and so on.

What I foresee is a quick adaptation of most values, as Homo Sapiens will present the largest biomass which one could possibly exploit. How quaint today’s fiction will then seem!

Knowing the world feeds the imagination. Knowing only fiction literature is getting to know only the minds of the fashionable and marketable, and how they learned to seduce the commons. Yet, reality is not common. The wise needs more: reality in full.

Patrice Ayme’