'Now (the gap leading to the dungeon was in the same chamber) I see a pair of red hands coming out of the basement. These hands thin against the floor, and immediately behind them appears Stach's head erstwhile and again. Guests and boys laugh.
“ Aha, ” cried 1 canteen, “see how hard it is to get out of the basement without stairs? And you want to go consecutive from the store to the university!... Come out, someday so smart...
Stach stretched out his hands again from the bottom, again grabbed the edge of the gap and lifted himself up to the mediate of the body. I thought his blood was gonna blow out of his cheeks.
— How does he get out... It is delicious!..., the another canteen called.
We walked across the street without talking to each other. Stach bit his lips, and it occurred to me at that time that this getting out of the basement was a symbol of his life, which had run out of the Hopfer store into a wider world. '
This fragment of the large Polish (mostly judaic - with Mickiewicz, Tuwim and Staff at the head) literature... , is simply a image of the Polish nation painted on a web of time into which the wind of chaos threw me. This is simply a image of a skunk and a filthy Poland that lived in the basement for a long time. Like an animal. But it's coming out.
Today it's just a memory. I remember that acid. It's collective humiliation, sodomy and infantilism. I besides remember all year, the black and white world, from the minute the leaves fell from the trees to the time erstwhile the ducks bloomed in the wetlands. Long and grey days, weeks, months. Mud, snow, mud. And line up for everything. It was 1 of the best periods of my life, but I know that it could be even better if that Poland was Poland today. A, the best periods of life are in childhood and youth. This is straight related to the vital forces, and so present many grandfathers praise the commune. This is simply a purely selfish point of view that does not take into account the quality of life of future generations.
Many grandparents feel painfully that fresh generations, thanks to the improvement of the economy and technology, no longer request to replicate their individual stories. I realize that this may be a very sad feeling, but nothing stands still. Unless the pyramids in Giza. It's very good erstwhile reality changes fast. It's great! In the PRL everything was going like a bottle of oil. Today's fine, and it'll be faster. And these, all the old men with rotten livers are about to become zombies - completely alienated from the reality of surviving people. I'm a grandpa too, but my liver doesn't rot due to the fact that a large part of the nation has succeeded in having any of the world's strongest passports. In their own homes, in their own hands, not in the hands of the Home Office. They can survey at any university of the civilized world.
They don't remember the basement. It's pure abstraction for them. They besides do not know that insurgency in sociological terms, which is at the heart of the political doctrine of a certain dwarf quarterback of a large part of the electorate, leads to isolationism. This is simply a direct consequence, whose sample, the nation has already experienced for Good Change. Well... passports and another assets are inactive there, but it's only due to the fact that there's no time. This doctrine speaks of the superiority of political will over the law. The paradise in which this doctrine has been realized is North Korea, but there are inactive many countries in which it is realized, for example Belarus, Hungary, Russia, Venezuela, etc... There are besides paradises in which God’s will, specified as Afghanistan or Iran, is carried out. This may not be the Polish God, but the attitude to individual space is similar. Finally, in the paradises of Jehovah there are juntas and drug cartels. Death lurks around all corner of the street. I wrote it down, but I thought to export Polish believers to Afghanistan a doctrine of uncontrollable political will to North Korea and Catholic Taliban to Afghanistan. There is something that might encourage: a common hatred of Jews. And the anticipation of joining Hamas.
Cinderella fairy tale
Now I'm going to tell you a communicative about Cinderellas that Kaczyński called a communicative about dignity and getting up off his knees. That communicative wasn't written by the Grimm brothers. It's a vile and perverse work. So fucked up, you don't know whether to laughter or to fuck with the author.
One puppet to make it even more fun to take from Pcimia. I'm guessing the mayor, was there a Chief from Wąchocka's nose humped? But there are jokes about Pcimi. Not just any. That's what I meant. Guys! Look! He's specified a jerk from Pcimia, what the household screwed up, the president of the largest state company! Oh, now he's grinning for the company. I mean, could anyone be president? Chesiek and Zdzisiek from Pacanów, too, right? What, they're worse? At least so they can make their teeth for a partnership? How do they take the caps off?
He besides took another puppet out of any Wysrajev, where she made losses, an unleavened chicken soup woman. And the premiere of it. erstwhile her office was setting her up, he drove her to the movies on Bond. Guys! Look! Anyone can be, and anyone can be! And what? Poland fell? Was it bad? It was even large for many! I mean, anyone can be Prime Minister. But, not that you get over the dead (political) to power, but you just gotta fit the doller's vision. That's it.
He took the 3rd puppet from the Peerel dumpster and put it in the Constitutional Court to get it dirty. To take his honor and credibility. To make this organ lose all respect. Look! Who's in those robes? Judges or clowns like what? Who needs it now? Then he took the puppet pile and threw it at the state. And for the amusement of local bakeries, where black and white mix for common business. full families felt breath and began to believe in miracles.
This communicative isn't over yet, though a beautiful dream has passed. Similarly, you don't sit on the throne from your knees. Nor does he gain dignity. I think she's delusional.
