Monday, 10 August 2009

The killing of magic

We left Demopolis early in the morning. It was cold and crisp. The landscape appeared stunning in the frost smoke, with great egrets flying like ghosts.

But then we reached the first lock and the magic disappeared. The man in charge was in a terrible mood and started to scream over the VHF. I’m not going into details because there are none.

To go through a lock is a simple task. After a couple of locks it gets downright boring. But for the US Army Corps of Engineers it’s comparable to a landing on the moon; that’s the kind of attention they want, in order to feel that their work is important.

It comes down to this: Militant people don’t hate their enemies as much as they hate humanity, even within their own ranks, in the very barracks. They can’t stand diversity. That’s why they always dehumanize the environment in which they rule.

In general we passed through several locks without seeing humans at all, just a surveillance camera in every corner of the lock. I guess there were people behind the dark glass in the tower but I can’t tell for sure. Sometimes we heard a cold cartoon-like voice in the PA-system, ordering us to do so and so.

There was no point trying to be friendly with these guys. Friendliness seemed to be taken for sloppiness. If they got agitated the next couple of locks would be slow indeed, without any other likely reasons than as a punishment.

I got an understanding of conspiracy through these locks. But Nina, being more humane, refused to believe that the US Army Corps of Engineers were that crazy.