Bjarmlander's Daydream
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While riding on a sledge going west, he fell asleep for to take his
rest. He dreamed a dream that made him sad, concerning himself, and the
first few friends he had...and the strangers who came to his land. And
perhaps dreaming about some lotus land where he can be safe, and nobody
will ever come to take his land away again. Yes, lotus land, that island
where the lotus grows, which captures unsuspecting travelers who might
just try to taste it. They will never want to go home again.
Dreams are like time machines sometime. Sure, they're probably only
wish-fulfillment but what the heck, a little escapism never hurt. It's
nature's way of giving us what we want without actually giving it to us.
To whisk us away from an intolerable existance to another time and place.
It is the Bjarmlander's secret of survival in extreme loneliness and hardship
of the north. His temporary escape, adaptation to his environment. The
principle of natural parsimony in action. Now that's being stingy! To keep
people from going nuts. Tricky. I guess that is a little like lotus land
where everyone figures they are in paradise. But we know they are just
fooling themselves. They can imagine they aren't like those people, or
these people, because they are in lotus land, the best land. Everyone knows
that. "Those poor SOB's who have to be over there, while we are over here!"
Yeh, that makes you feel good, to know you aren't one of them. But after
awhile you say, maybe we aren't that lucky, maybe we should be over there.
Right, that's what got us in this situation in the first place. Stay put,
you say. Don't go jumping from the frying pan to the fire. That's the meaning
of life I guess - to actually have something, or to just imagine it if
you don't. That is what separates the haves from the have-nots. The have-nots
are content with fooling themselves, the haves aren't. That goes for the
strangers too not just the Bjarm.
Those poor suckers who figured they had arrived, or were about to
arrive, in paradise. Are we there yet? How much further? Pardon me, but
how far is it from here? Just another 10 generations, you can do it. This
is just a very transitory stage, we will make it, you'll see. Yes, the
stranger's soul, his "duzha" sure knows how to suffer. That's for sure.
They really didn't know you can't get there from here the poor fellows.
But the Bjarmlanders know. "When will we arrive?" they ask. "This is like
Waiting
for Godot" what the hell is going on here! They spend their time standing
in rows or shuffling along with downcast, empty eyes. As they looked up,
the sign said: don't gather riches for yourself, hold the banner high.
See, they are just dreaming. Fooling themselves that by denying themselves
they will get to paradise. By suffering, they win redemption. A perversion
of the Christ's life and death. Sickening. For seventy years? Kind of like
a religion I would say, minus the hope. Or a little less every day. And
what's left is just broken in half every day like a crumb of bread until
there is nothing to divide.
They keep saying we will be arriving soon.
The officials. Too many of those bloodsuckers. Have another drink. More
fuel for the dreams. Stoke the dream. What can you dream about if
you know they are lying and the dream died when they shot the Family and
just kept on shooting, anyone, everyone, and "nobody" at all? You can see
it in the masses, those masses of humanity who are fooling themselves.
Empty promises, empty eyes. Dead dreams. Dead dreamers. Ghosts, no - drunk,
Godless, violent ghosts. While the realists are having their feasts. Lord!
Snap! Back again like a slingshot. Eyes open. Yawn. It was just a dream.
Whew, I thought it was real.
We hoped that by some miracle the Land would somehow be ours again.
Yes, the strangers would give the Land back. Father would talk about it
while having a drink, with pipe in hand, the same one in his army picture,
trying to forget the war, and all of the friends he lost on the front,
in their Land. And then there was the time he himself got hurt. That was
in '41, when they where trying to get their Land back. They succeeded too
- for three years they took it back, and a bit more. They could have gone
all the way to the capital, but the men refused to cross the river. The
strangers were not going to give it up either, but I think we somehow figured
that things would go on forever with us in control of our Land once more.
More dreams. Like I said, you either have the thing, or you end up dreaming.
Like maybe about Tapiolaland. Or maybe the Swan from Tuonelaland
.
But the leader of the strangers, the old weasel, knew how to use time as
his ally. That's it, if you wait long enough everything will be alright.
Leverage time, the simple machine of the forth dimension. Well, enough
of this rambling. It's time to snap out of it. Well, at least we aren't
high on these plants here, like the others. We just like to daydream, which
is kind of a waste of time too, I think. But at least it gives the daydreamer
an outlet for what he yearns for. Snap! Back we go. To reality, grabbing
us by the arm, restraining us.
No, the land is not going to be in the hands of the rightful owner
again anytime soon. Well, what are we going to do then? We could join the
Pro-landers, or the League. Naw! They're just as bad dreamers as us, we
need more reality. Hope through reality, that's it. More hope, more reality.
How about if the President of the land goes over to the stranger's capital,
to wait in the hall with cap in hand for an interview with the leader.
After all, they have a saying that you never get lost if you just ask.
"Pardon me sir, but I just thought I'd ask. Would you consider... Would
you, sir, consider giving back what you...sto...er, borrowed, Sir?"
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"What the f- are you talking about?"
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"Well, you remember in '17 when we asked for our Land, and you were
happy then to give it to us, when it was yours to give?"
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"So, you've got it, what more do you want?"
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"Well, surely you must know, you borrowed some of our land and I would
like to ask you to loan it back, Sir."
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"Return your land, is that what you want? Haw, haw! You must be crazy!
We don't give anything any more. We made a mistake then, but we won't make
that mistake again."
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"No, we don't want it back, we just want to rent it."
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"Rent it?"
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"Yes, would you consider renting it to us?"
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"What would we do with the people?"
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"Rent them to us as well."
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"Five billion pazoozas - for 10 years, and 10 million pazoozas for you,
today."
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So they rented the land to us for ten years, those greedy dreamers.
We set up factories behind the mountains and employed every stranger in
the land, over there. We cultivated the lotus plant there in hot houses.
They ate. They loved it so much they refused to return. All our people
moved back to the land. Snap! Back to reality, it was just a daydream.
Yawn.
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by O. Joronen,
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Bjarmlander
