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Saturday August 3rd 2019Tim Candler9

 

    So what does a person do when he finally becomes a Dear Leader. Well it's never that simple, and it's never that simple because a Dear Leader does spend almost 95 % of his waking hours worrying about remaining a Dear Leader, it's paranoid time spent plotting his own survival, something he can only do by maintaining a supportive coterie of what I guess it's tempting to describe with the title Storm Trooper. And while many an innocent soul might offer the suggestion that Storm Troopers are basically unfortunate victims of a lobotomy, the reality is that the bulk of us can be seduced then in all sorts of ways we can be purchased, or at least willingly submit to a lobotomy. At the same time Storm Troopers in the First World War were specially trained, physically well built and fit men, the idea being that you needed to launch highly committed individuals at the enemy trenches if there was to be any promise of a glorious victory against the enemy, and certainly no question of launching a bunch of elderly coach potatoes along with their conspiracy theory laden yelling youngsters, even if it is in unison. All of which means it might be necessary to go elsewhere for an understanding of a Dear Leader's awesomeness.

 

Past

     In the collection of German stories that explore the whole business of selling your soul to the devil, or Faustian Bargain, the message was basically that Faust was damned forever because he preferred Human Knowledge to Divine knowledge. In the the 16th Century accounts of his soul selling experiences it was very quickly far too late for him, as soon as he decided he wanted to be called a Doctor of Medicine instead of a Doctor of Theology there was nothing he could do, his future in eternity lay in hell where he'd be regularly poked with sticks. Later, in Goethe's early 18th Century account, which drew from a much early First Century story about a sorcerer called Simon Magnus who was apparently going to save the world, suggested that while Faust was driven by a yearning for something more than "earthly meat and drink" he'd sold his soul so that he could become something more than just an ordinary average person, his ambition was to be incredibly spectacular, a star in the firmament, a super fantastic bigwig par excellence, a viral phenomenon or something like a billionaire if you prefer a more recent iteration of an earthly Holiness from which all good things are deemed to come. And I suspect that it's somewhere in the machinations of a Faustian Bargain that enables a Dear Leader to warp both time and reality.

 

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