Requiem

As of this writing, two thousand South African troops remain surrounded by hostile forces in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), where they had been sent to keep the peace and protect civilians. Fourteen of them are dead:

    Staff Sergeant William Eddie Cola;

    Staff Sergeant Molahlehi Ishmael Molahlehi;

    Staff Sergeant Shwahlane Theophilus Seepe;

    Corporal Matome Justice Malesa;

    Corporal Rinae Nemavhulani;

    Lance Bombardier Itumeleng Macdonald Moreo;

    Lance Corporal Tseke Moffat Molapo;

    Lance Corporal Metse Stansly Raswiswi;

    Rifleman Sebatane Richard Chokoe;

    Rifleman Derrick Maluleke;

    Rifleman Tshidiso Andries Mabele;

    Rifleman Calvin Louis Moagi;

    Rifleman Mokete Joseph Mobe; and

    Private Peter Jacobus Strydom.†

Since I am a South African American, they were my brothers, and I print their names here in their memory. It's all I can do.

The ANC that sent them there, it seems, has found no way to get their comrades out, or bring their bodies home.

†https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2025-02-02-about-2000-sa-troops-remain-trapped-in-drc-with-no-clear-rescue-plan/?dm_source=dm_block_grid&dm_medium=card_link&dm_campaign=main

Genericide

"The process by which a brand name comes to refer to any product or service of its kind" (wikipedia)

escalator, koozie, onesie, taser, thermos, zamboni . . .

Moreover, by cognate antonomasia,

a proper name may come to represent a class of thing, e.g.,

 "Nero" Lucius Ahenobarbus

“Führer” Adolf Hitler (b. Schicklgruber)

“Duce”  Benito Mussolini

“Stalin”  Joseph Dzhugashvili

"Pol Pot" Saloth Sâr

have all become common nicknames for atrocity.

History’s never kind to such analogy

—it for obvious reasons cannot be.

Ordering obedience in their day,

they gave their names to help define

humanity's horror market's wicked line,

and so, for all eternity, they're necessarily damned—poor swine!

Who’s up there on the block right now

to serve us in this very special way?

Some fine specimens from the hopper

are just about to leap into the chopper.

Having foresworn and sacrificed free will,

their given names shall from now on be swill.

The road to hell is paved with bad intentions,

hoping, against hope, for special mentions.

Monday, february 3, 2025

Free Will

Free will does not mean one will, but many wills conflicting in one man.—Flannery O’Connor

Freedom is always the freedom of those who think otherwise [der Andersdenkenden].—Rosa Luxemburg

Hiking for a hundred millennia

An endless trail, how do we know

What’s true? A snake (or politician) lurks

Behind each equivocating reason;

Those bright berries might be poison,

Intruders face a hunting leopard there.

“We go by signs that change,” said Running Bear.

“Only doubters in the end get to go on,

Who every instant enquire of themselves:

'Might I—might that—not, perhaps, be wrong?'”

Other thinking’s intuition’s alpenstock;

Doubting everything's the gods' physician.

Those who don’t are unwitting shills

Who march to imbecilic wills,

Their spirits too malcontent to survive.

Free will exists within the grumbling hive.

You have to want it, though, to win on through.

Those who reject it—all so sure they know—

Are flotsam in the fleecing current’s flow,

Or jetsam fleeing from a life’s boo-hoo.

Sunday, February 2, 2025