APP EDITORS’ NOTE:
LONDON CALLING BACK, by Emre Kazim, is a series about philosophy, society, and politics, from a British and non-North-American point of view, emphasizing a new critical-dignitarian, edgy, and thoroughly push-backarian philosophical, social, and political ferment on the rise in London, recalling the heady days of politicized punk and The Clash.
But like Gabriel García Márquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera, during the COVID-19 pandemic, LONDON CALLING BACK also has a lyrical, romantic, and perhaps even seductively subversive side….
EARLIER INSTALLMENTS:
#3: “Career Opportunities” Revisited? Work, Leisure, and The Four Day Week.
#2: Invasion of the New Daleks: Alienation, Authenticity, and The Preacher on the Train.
The Rooster: A True Parable About The Rational Human Condition
Once upon a time there lived a ferocious lion that went by the name of L. She was a meretricious beauty, someone for all young strays to be wary of.
Unfortunately, a young rooster did indeed stray into her territory. L, quick to spot this, made her approach with the full intention of preying on the waif.
This particular rooster was equipped with many words and a quick tongue. He knew that time was against him, so he had to work fast.
The distance between the beast and the prey grew smaller as the anxiety grew greater … eventually all was still in anticipation, all but the beating heart of the rooster.
He could think of nothing other than simply to evoke mercy for the fate that Providence had placed upon him. So he spoke the following words:
I already love in you your beauty, but I am only just beginning to love in you that which is truly eternal and precious—your heart, your soul, your humour, your smile.
My words are superfluous, as words spoken form the tongue are received by the ear but those spoken by the heart are received by the heart. When and where will these words reach you…?
At this point L began to laugh!
What horror was to be felt in the heart of the rooster?
None!
For all fear had escaped from him. In the face of death, when finality becomes manifest, existence is on the cusp of freedom.
Let it be, let all things be!
The rooster closed his eyes. Muttering prayers below his breath, asking forgiveness from his Lord (for he had sinned many times), he awaited the blows of destruction.
Would it be a single bite? Let it be so, for in that moment, the touch of those lips would suffice to him for an eternity.
The strike of a paw perhaps? Let it be so, for a mere touch would elevate him to the realm of what transcends all possible roosterly experience.
L’s laughter stopped. She circled the pathetic rooster and smiled. As her chuckles ended, the rooster opened his eyes.
Could it really be that the beauty of his imagination was surpassed by that which was in front of him?
L took pity, and then she decided that she would feed elsewhere. After all there were plenty of roosters out there in the world.
***
A wise owl known as Ramone had once told the rooster:
By the time the intellect has deliberated and reflected, love has flown to the seventh heaven,
but the rooster did not hearken to this, because he was too busy thinking about it.
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