Writing in a Time of Violence - Part 2
Day 2,376, 16:53
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Published in USA 
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by
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by Silas Soule
Live Sharp 
Look Smart
Never Work
( or, Writing in a Time of Violence, Part 2 )
Some (otherwise good) people say that eRepublik is only a wargame.
Bunkum and hokum.
In fact, eRepublik is many things and can be played in many ways. True, it can take a little more derring-do and, dare I say, imagination, to see it as something other than an idiotic push-button-mechanics-obsessed war-fest lame-o Clausewitzian wet dream. But it can be done. Yes it can. Yes. One can, for example, play eRepublik as a game of writing.
And so isn't writing.
Fair warning though. It is not easy to play a writer in eRepublik.
Well. When I say "not easy", I am not referring to those aspects of an e-writer's life that involve being guest of honor and toast of the town at endless rounds of delightful e-dinner parties and e-banquets held at trendy e-restaurants, nor the endless amorous e-affairs and e-flirtations and, err, let's say the many discrete kinds of "plug-ins" and "downloads" that come with fame, nor being fêted far and wide by the e-literati and pursued by the e-paparazzi, nor the practically de rigueur over-consumption of actual RL alcohol and other, umm, luminous substances that flow along with traversing the belletristic territories. No, no. None of that is especially arduous. Not even the perpetual cigarette smoking is that hard to take once you grow accustomed to it. No. It couldn't by any stretch of the imagination be called "not easy" to be an e-writer in those respects. Not if one is to be honest anyway.
A typical e-writer, smoking.
However, it is hard to be a e-writer in a more existential sense.
And. Obviously. It can also be hard in an aesthetic sense. But that goes without saying doesn't it? Dang. And now I've gone and said it. Drat.
Anyway, the existential difficulties become especially acute under the following conditions:
1) During revolutionary times
2) In situations where "hard" people are running your country
and
3) Right after lunch. Under any circumstances, it is always best to just go ahead and take a short nap after lunch, no matter whether you perceive your e-role in scholarly or jingoistic terms. So I suppose not napping after lunch doesn't really count as a difficulty peculiar to writers. I thought I'd mention it anyway though. Mainly for the benefit of my American friends, who tend to rush back to work or to their studies right after lunch, instead of taking a nice leisurely siesta like the rest of the people do. It's really no wonder some of my RL compatriots get cranky and then occasionally start bombing random foreign countries or shooting up school zones. It's a well-known fact that not taking a nap after lunch will make anybody cranky. Lately I am beginning to suspect that those folks in the Kremlin may have stopped taking naps after lunch. You can see where it leads. So my advice to e-writers is to always take a nap after lunch. OK. Enough said on this topic. I won't revisit it. We've discussed it enough. Unless I am still writing this article at lunchtime. Then I might mention it again. After a nap.
Even the mighty, mighty bears who power the Bear Cavalry take a nice nap after lunch.
Leaving aside (for now) the lunch/nap equation, let's focus our attention on writing in revolutionary times...
Pressure from the revolutionaries and ultra-revolutionaries is put on writers during periods when there is a great social upheaval. I will discuss this more below.
And pressure is put on writers in "hard" times...
In periods when the authorities are engaging in the politics of a clamp-down, pressure comes in the form of threats of expulsion, censure and so forth -- the e-equivalents of arrest and disappearance.
The kind of pressure I am talking about is the pressure to "toe the line", which, as you Orwell fans know, is the most tiresome of idiomatic phrases and worn-out metaphors. Only someone under the domination of an unyielding pressure to conform would "toe the line" by using such a humdrum, unimaginative metaphor as "toe the line", right?
Thankfully, we seldom see this tiresome phrase "toe the line" used in eAmerican discourse, and when we do, it is usually mis-spelled. So we can thank the gods for small favors on that score now, can't we brothers and sisters?
The job of an e-writer is to not crack under pressure.
What we have been seeing -- disconcertingly -- during the recent debate in the eUSA over the work tax is a tendency to identify all dissenters (and all real writers, if they are real writers, are also dissenters at some level) as enemies of the state. Let's remember: in a Total War Society, to assert that "all who are not with us are against us" makes for a perfectly sound rule of logic. So it is not a surprise to see this kind of thing pop up when the leaders of an e-nation have adopted a "hard" stance on the question of "What's it all about, eRep?" (Answer: all war, only war, just the war, mechanical war, war, war, war, war, war, war,war, war, more war, war and nothing else, etc., war).
This is the kind of pressure that a writer must expect and must be prepared to deal with.
I am here to help, dear writer-friends. Depending on the circumstance, a writer has a variety of strategies to choose from.
Naturally, he or she doesn't want to be put away, banished, e-killed or driven into silence by the "blood and iron" contingent. So they find the ways to state their case -- which, if a writer is really playing to win at writing, means to present stories of actual player-humanity doing human things in a human way -- without raising the ire of the nationalist-big-bourgeois-monster-zombie-elite (or whatever) to the point where it becomes counter-productive or deadly.
Which strategy to use depends on the current climate and the overall tenor of the times. The main ones are:
* Historical analogy * Tell a story about the distant past or another time, using an unmistakable analogy, but without any impeachable direct connection to the "hard" ones and their shenanigans. Use this extremely subtle approach in very dangerous times.
* Incitement * Make an accusation regarding the hottest topic of the day which everyone has been whispering about but has been afraid to criticize. "Break the pot." "Shit the bed." "Declare that the emperor has no clothes." "Troll like a madman" The goal here is to unleash an avalanche. This kind of story needs to be timed just-so. Ideally so that it will be forgotten, until later, after things have changed or calmed down, who it was that first shouted "fire".
* Tragedy * Tell a story of a victim of the "hard" ones that is so sad, so full of heart-wrenching pain, so evocative of loss, that the exposure to such a tale of suffering releases a torrent of natural compassion within the reader, making him or her feel so human that the bestial qualities of the "hard" forces are thrown into sharp relief. This kind of writing should be the stock-in-trade of any real writer. Use this approach often when faced with "hard" circumstances.
The angel of grief is a writer's best friend.
* Sharp Wit * With the accuracy of a surgeon's scalpel, dissect, decompose and deconstruct the discursive underpinnings of the language used by the "hard" men. Attack the very core of their so-called "belief" system and expose it for the illusion it really is. This is the most dangerous way to counter-act "hard" authority. The crowd will usually not follow on right away. The writer will typically stand alone in the docket bearing his "J'accuse!". But the potential is great, and the effects are the best. For it is this kind of writing that causes common people to laugh out loud when they first read it. And then to point to and mock the "great leader" behind his back in ever-increasing numbers.
This is what every brat-dictator fears the most: girls mocking him behind his back.
The other kind of pressure that a real e-writer has to deal with is the r-r-r-r-r-r-revolutionary kind. At some point in their career, if they live in interesting times, a writer will almost inevitably be condemned by one revolutionary faction or another as being "petit bourgeois", "counter-revolutionary", "a drunkard", "fat and lazy", "a sell-out", "a fornicator", "a drunkard", "a fancy dandy", "an idler", "a drunkard" or simply "a drunkard".
This comes with the territory and should be expected.
In 9 times out of 10, such "revolutionaries" just want to be "hard" men. So the strategies outlined above can often be adapted for use in responding to revolutionaries as well. However, since there is usually less chance of being officially persecuted and instead only being chastised and beaten-up in a few chat rooms and forums, a writer can typically take a few more liberties in responding to revolutionaries.
Including the following approaches:
* Psychological Response * Find a way to elicit a normal psychological response from the revolutionary, such as a guffaw or some kind of admission that they may have acted impolitely or improperly. This should NOT be done in a demeaning way. (See * Incitement *, that is totally different.) Rather it is a totally honest appeal to an honest emotion. This is often very effective and can actually help to improve the revolutionary movement (and of course, all real writers always support the revolution, even when they are opposing or correcting its revolutionaries).
* IDGAF and FUVM response * Everybody loves smart-ass cranky old guys and hates pedantic bullies. If you are accused of being a drunkard by some pipsqueak who has never in his pipsqueaky career written anything of consequence except to repeat some boring old nostrums and slogans, then announce that you are in fact the greatest drunkard of all time and challenge the r-r-r-r-revolutionaries to a drinking contest. Then do a silly version of "Sharp Wit". This strategy should only be used when responding to pipsqueaks.
* Slaughter * This very rare strategy should be used only when it is obvious to the writer that a big-bourgeois agent or deep-seated psycho-nut-job has infiltrated the revolution and is posing as an ultra-revolutionary. Expose his crimes and misdemeanors in a police-report style and lay it all down like slicing through a slog-fest with a Battle-Axe. This can be dangerous and should be used only in extreme cases where the health and well-being of the nation and/or the vast masses of players internationally is at stake.
OK. Surprise, y'all! Here's a snap-contest!
Read the scenario below. Look at the picture. Then provide a mini-story in the comments.
All half-decent mini-stories will win fabulous prizes!!!
Let's say you have heard this story: A "revolutionary committee" sent from the "hard-core" military government has arrived in the e-neighborhood and demanded that everybody turn over their chickens for the communal hot-pot. People in the neighborhoods report lots of high-falutin' revolutionary rhetoric is being combined with the threat of government reprisals.
And then you have heard about this one incident, where a mother stepped forward and sai
😛
"What do you mean? Why does my chicken has to be everybody's chicken first? I'm not 'petty bourgeois', you shit. That's my frikkin' chicken. And my children are hungry. You want my chicken, ..."
What story do you tell?
And how?
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Half-decent mini-stories in the comments will win prizes.
…you want my chicken then you will need to show me how this helps me! I raised this chicken from a chick. Me ‘an my childrens fed this chicken and, well… we fed it anyway, that’s just about all you have to do with chickens you know.
“Of course,” the constable said, “we know you raised this chicken, but there are lots of hungry people here that didn’t have the foresight to raise any chickens and now they are hungry.” Don’t you want to help your neighbors and friends?”
“No, I don’t think I do want to help them,” she replied, “I would much rather see them starve.”
Not expecting this reaction, the constable simply handed her back her chicken and walked away. Feeling good about standing up for herself and her family she went inside and cooked a delicious meal using a bit of thyme and lemon zest that really brought out the flavor of her chicken dish. They all agreed it was one of her best efforts in quite a while. After eating her kids helped with the dishes, did their homework and they all went to bed.
The next day she awoke to a beautiful sunny day and after seeing the children off to school she made her way down to the hair salon where she had an appointment to get her curlers out and have her new perm styled. When she went into the salon it was deserted. She looked all around the shop and, finding no one, went into the back of the building, where the stylist had a small apartment.
There, lying amongst the broken dishes and dried up remains of a spilled bottle of very expensive conditioner, was the stylist and her two children. Dead. Throats cut with some precision.
As the initial shock wore off she ran out to find the constable. She found him sitting on a wooden box, just outside the shop. She told him what had happened, grabbed his hand and started to drag him inside to see the grisly scene.
“I don’t need to see it”, he said coldly, “I was the one that cut their throats. You said you would rather see them starve. I couldn’t very well let them starve, that is too cruel. I put them out of their misery before it got to that point. It was mercy.”
The woman walked slowly away in utter despair. She thought to herself as she meandered slowly home, “where will I ever find a hairstylist that good again?”
You killed me, Phil.
Made me forget what I was going to say.
Tales from South Carolina:
Well fed, selfish, and a head full of curlers.
(;,,😉
The mother said, "You cannot have my chicken. She lays the eggs which are the only food my family has to survive."
"But ma'am," the government official explained, "Your chicken lays eggs, to feed your family of peasants. If you gave it to the government, it could feed our World Class Soldiers, and make them stronger fighters. Our nation's defenses would be that much greater. We would never be defeated!"
But the mother continued to resist, and begged for the chance to keep the chicken. The hen was her chance to survive and for her children to have the opportunity to prosper. The government official was not kind. He simply told her, "Look at the statistics. How many chicken owners buy the steroids to get the chicken plump? How many chicken owners properly vaccinate their hens to ensure their meat is 100% virus free?" The mother's mind wandered, she did not care if the meat was virus free, because she only wanted the eggs. The government official continued, " How many chicken owners properly fence their birds to prevent theft, or just wandering away?"
He concluded, "Statistically, letting you keep your chicken is like throwing it down a bottomless hole. Give it to the government, so it can provide prosperity for all."
The mother continued to plead, but the chicken was forcibly removed from her arms. Tears fell down her face, as she know the impossible task of survival was her new reality. She collapsed onto her knees, and looked up at the government official, with one last attempt, "What if I give you all the eggs but one per day? Will you at least grant me one egg per day?" The government official sneered, "The good of the nation comes first, this chicken will be our dinner tonight." And he promptly snapped the chicken's neck in front of the mother, and her hopes for any kind of life for her family broke along with the neck.
Years went by, and the mother was scraping for every morsel of food she could obtain. She was gaunt and her children had starved despite her every attempt to save them. Her soul was hollow and cold. Everything that she had ever hoped for, was taken from her, and it was the government that did it. That became her mantra...became her all consuming passion; a hatred of the government, a desire for vengeance. But she was frail, and powerless against the all powerful government.
She wandered all over the country, searching for food, yes, but also searching for revenge. Then she learned that she was not the only mother that had lost her chicken. In fact there were thousands just like her. You see, because the government used the chickens for meat instead of eggs, they constantly needed more. And when they needed more, they took another chicken from a mother....and made another enemy.
The government continued to make enemies of its citizens every day by stealing their sustenance and thus causing their children to die. The numbers of the mothers who lost everything, grew and soon outnumbered the government that repressed them. This sparked great fear in the eyes of the government, and they moved swiftly to turn those enemies back into allies. The government introduced group therapy, and the mothers were grouped together to be counciled on their misguided views of the government.
"Your views on the government stem from something that happened so long ago, that the people who took your chicken have now all been promoted and there are new people in their place. You see, they have not wronged you, and thus you must let go of your anger" That is the opening statement in the group therapist handbook. For some strange reason, this logic did not stem the anger boiling in the hearts of the mothers. So the government did what governments all tend to do, make it bigger. If small groups are not working properly, then bigger must be the solution.
There was convened, the Great Group Therapy Meeting. All the mothers were there, and the best and brightest therapists, as well as the most tenured government officials.
The speeches droned on for hours, all espousing the fact that their injustice occurred at the hands of someone who is no longer in that position. They told them that the greater good of the World Class Defense program was for them, and thus an acceptable exchange for their suffering. But the mothers only heard. "blah, blah, blah."
Then, in a pause in the middle of a speech, one mother looked down, and wondered aloud, "What good is World Class Defense, when I have nothing to defend? The government is who has taken my life. Where is my World Class Defense against them?
The din of the meeting fell silent after a collective gasp at the revelation of a truth.
Then another mother stood and answered, "If we join together we can be each other's Worl....."
He said short story...
Sounds..... FAMILIAR.
...and beside taking my damn chicken now you claim that my hairdo must be divided among all women! That's bull crap! Do you know how long it took to find this many curlers of different sizes and colors? Bitches can go to the dump and dig out their own damn curlers.
\0/
...you give me a cow instead! This chicken provides for my family young man. Why should I give it to you?
Ma'am, the official said, I am just carrying out my orders, and my orders are to take your chicken.
It is MY chicken and I am not responsible for those who will not work to provide for themselves, including greedy government officials!
So the official declared the old woman to be an enemy of the state and a counter revolutionary and shot her. Then the chicken was taken from the dead hands of the newest martyr to freedom.
Voted for quoting KvC 😁
v
Great mini-stories! Prizes have been sent but more are available. Keep writing!
The worker tax kind of reminds of Hitler, just saying.
I was thinking of Mao, but Hitler is another one.
How many people are actually suffering because of the work tax? How many people benefit from it? It ought to be a straightforward analysis, without emotional appeals over chickens and eggs and ugly women in curlers with imaginary kids to feed. Some of you people need to learn to think a little better.
"You people" is insulting btw... Everyone suffers a little each time we pay too much in taxes. Some benefit from these higher taxes, but not everyone. EVERY PERSON that pays a lower tax benefits by keeping more of their own money.
[removed]
Poor baby!
EVERY PERSON is harmed by a government that is unable to properly fund its military. I wonder how many THOUSANDS of real life dollars some schmuck is laying out for Canada's endless RWs. When the US is -- as is inevitable in this game -- wiped again, I wonder if some American schmuck will be equally as stupid. Maybe it's better not to find out, and lay the money away while we can, instead of debating over ridiculous analogies about ugly women and starving children and chickens and eggs.
So... let's see. You are not found of analogies. You would definitely take the chicken. And you don't like pictures of the actress, performer and martial arts practitioner Qiu Yuen (Kan Chia Fong) wearing curlers while playing the role of "landlady" in "Kung Fu Hustle". Got it. (By the way, she also rescued 007 in the Man With the Golden Arm, so you obviously hate freedom, dontcha?)
However you did not tell a mini-story, so no prize for you. Thanks for playing though.
she owned that role, btw 🙂
No, I'm not fond of STUPID analogies, and pictures used to illustrate STUPID analogies. I'd thank you for playing, but you play so poorly that I can't quite do it.
Butthurt Barker Strikes Again
Wow condescend much George? If 10 mill isn't enough to properly fund the military if Vermont gets invaded then congress should have voted on a different number. They didn't. Since every eCitizen in this game is a soldier we can all pitch in to defend the country, not just the official military. Give me back more of my own money. If the government then wants us all to rally behind whichever war they decide, just convince us it is right and just. We can all spend that money ourselves fighting together.
Those analysis have been made. Independent militias were generating a lot more damage than the military.
"The thing that the chicken sees and quarrels about noisily, the goat sees and stares it to death."
You want my chicken,... YOU WANT MY CHICKEN!!!???
The woman holds the chicken high in the air and chants. The room is becomes enveloped in a red/yellow hue, emanating from the chicken. The chicken starts to rise up in the air, glowing more and more until it reaches an apex and crows three times.
"GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING GOOD MORNING YEAH!"
And all is well in Pepperland.
eUS Marines require our chickens to be heavily-armed.
Too much ado about chickens. Did you not know, woman, that you can own your own chicken farm and hide it from the government ?