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Where memories became the only traces in life... 红颜易老,赤子其爰,故名“颜子”。

Friday, December 21, 2007

大时代的小市民宣言

本来是写在西西河里的。
原文见此

最近看了河里的讨论,千头万绪也不知道从何说起。且码字一篇,权当自己的思想整理,也和大家分享一下。

分析人与事物,我们都得从利益攸关方说起。那中国的国际博弈,对颜子这样的马来西亚华人来说,除了文化上有些共同点,还有什么利益关系呢?其实抛开文化上的牵扯不说,任何一个国际上的老百姓,都是大国博弈最直接的利益攸关方。在全球化的今天,一个国家,甚至一个区域的经济,甚至民生,都无法隔离独立于整个国际社会之外。而能够影响国际局势的大国,不外乎几个:中美欧俄,印度巴西,几个油产大国。其中最近最备受关注的就是中美在国际的博弈了。


看过我的帖子的人,或多或少都会读出反美情绪。这个自然和民族情绪有关,但是最大的原因是因为,美国独大的局面,对全世界的人民,包括美国人民自己,都不是好事。因为除了经济上受到单方面的剥削,文化上也受到高压的影响,变成很难保留自己的传统文化。天知道我多么不想看到我们下一代满口英语,说到中文满口结巴,中国历史一问三不知。出于种种方面的考量,对于象我这样的小市民,国际社会最好呈现多极化的局面。当然中国会是一极。但是两极化也不好,阵营太过对垒分明,很容易擦枪走火。

所以必须有至少三极以上的,相对均势的世界级政权出现。这样形成的一种均衡的竞争关系,对小市民来说,有更大的空间发展自己的经济文化,最小的程度上,可以选择自己想要的生活方式,而也可以减少被单方面剥削的情况出现。

这里要说明两个特别情况。你可能会好奇我会不会支持中国独大的局面?感情上我是可以接受的,但是理智来看,这样中国就要变成下一个美国了。这是一个悲剧。当你是世界独霸时,无论你的主观意愿为何,你一定会产生骄傲,自满的情绪,在视野上也会产生盲点。这个无关文化,而是人性使然。我绝不乐意见到中国变成那个样子。

另一种情况是出现一个世界政府。或则说世界统一。且不论我个人的观感,从理性分析的角度,这样的政府的存在一定是能力有限的,虽不至于名存实亡,但是绝对不是一个有效的模式。你想想,管理一个国家是多么麻烦的一件事啊。做得好是应该的,做坏了就要被骂,而且讨好了这群人,又要得罪那群人,常常又两面不讨好。到时全世界的范围哪,光是文化差异,风俗习惯就够头疼的了。

这里引开说一下,正是因为我觉得政府不容易,所以我相当佩服中国政府。世界五分之一的人口,共产党只要能做到稳定就算是功德无量了。更何况有那么多实惠的进展呢?曾经在网上看过这样的言论,就是中国的平均人口密度还不如日本等国家,所以不能拿人口说事。这是名符其实的谬论了。这样的理论就好像说,管理一家十个人,有十台电脑的公司,和管理一家有一千人,有一千台电脑的公司,是一样难度的。如果说难度,应该是随人数的增加而呈几何级数增长的吧?

如果有人觉得我这样为中国共产党大说好话,有歌功颂德之嫌,我可以告诉你,我只是在道出一个客观的观察而已。政府干坏事,我们要批评,要监督,但是政府做得好的地方,我们也要不吝称赞。称赞政府不代表我们不能在它出错时给与批判,但是要监督政府,也不代表我们不能肯定它做得好的地方。作为人民,我们不必立场鲜明的挺政府或则反政府,而是应该学习大棒和萝卜的原理:没有一个政府不喜欢人民的支持的,也没有一个政府不害怕人民造反的。当我们真正掌握人民手中的萝卜和大棒,不用煮的柿油,大约也不远了。

扯远了,回到正题。

我有这样的想法,但是我能够有什么影响吗?毕竟在生活中,我可是人微言轻,连自己的公司都没办法影响,怎么来影响国际大事呢?上网磨磨嘴皮子还对付着吧,实际行动靠什么。

这里又打岔一下,看一个老问题:英雄造时势还是时势造英雄?我的解读是这样的,每个人都有机会影响历史,但是历史不会为任何一个人而改变。为什么这么说?因为世界历史其实是一部由群众书写的历史。历史上重大的转折点,背后都有一股群众的力量。

这股群众通常都有一两个代表领导人物,而这些人物就成了这些转折点的“英雄”了。当然我这么说,并不是否定这些英雄们的能力和意愿,很大程度上影响了事态的发展和最后结局。但是没有群众力量在他们背后所造成的“势”,他们的作用会不一样的。这个有个很典型的例子,就是著名的“治世能臣,乱世奸雄”曹操。他是很有本事的人,在怎么样的“势”,都会是很有作为的人,但是他身
处的局势决定了他要扮演的角色。其实中国人的老祖宗在对于群众力量的心得方面,是其他文化所不能及的。从孔子的“民无信不立”,到李世民的“水能载舟”,都一再的总结并且提醒后人们不要忽视群众的力量。世界上,无论是欧洲的文艺复兴,法国大革命,光荣革命,中国的朝代更替,甚至一战,二战,那一个背后没有一股群众的力量?

拉扯了这么多,回到小市民。既然群众的力量那么伟大,那么小市民的影响力是很重要的了?对也不对。且不论财富带来的舆论权

,光人口,世界上就有七十亿只多。一个小市民的影响力,不多不少,刚刚好七十亿份之一。虽然看起来很少,但是会出现“决定性的一票”的情况。况且,如果你决定不主观的行使你的影响力,那你只是在让别人的影响力增强而已。别人有没有那个义务或则说责任替你着想?没有。而且影响力不是投票,不是说你弃权,就代表你没有影响力。只是变成别人的影响力罢了。这样的群众,很容易失去理智,酿成大型的群众暴力事件。不能说群众暴力事件一概都是不好的,但是有些时候,到了事后,参与者也说不出当初为什么会发生这样的事,只好统统怪在领导者头上了。

这里要说明一下,因为世界教育的参差,资讯流动的不平等,甚至观点的不一样,每个人对自己的影响力都存在不同的觉悟和观点。这里不存在谁是谁非的问题。我觉得最理想的是尽量使资讯流通最大自由化,然后让每个人选择自己的立场。当然这个理想是几乎不可能实现的。且不说传媒的问题(网络的流动性应该还是比平媒好的),单就是资讯量的庞大,已经让人消化不良,更不要说还存在着质的问题了。在现实生活中,很多时候都是立场决定资讯的。(其实这也是为什么各国政府都要施行媒体控制,对不同的资讯做不同的处理,因为只要处理足够的资讯形成一个立场,民众就会自发性的找寻与立场相辅的资讯。这个用英文来说比较传神,就是Organic Self Reinforcement。当然这些资讯要有一定的现实依据,象美国伊战这样的凭空捏造,单纯从宣传的角度来看,实在是很失败。当然这和美国政府对自己的宣传功力太过自信也有关系。又扯远了,回正题。)

这样的话,要如何选择自己的立场才能确保自己的影响力不被别人利用呢?我的看法是,接受这个事实。在现今社会的状态,我们的观念观感或多或少都被既得利益团体所左右。定下自己的底线和大前提:比如说不要出现三战,比如说中华民族要强大,而在这个大前提下,相关事件的立场要可以做到五点:
1。谨慎选择立场,并且多接触相关资讯,正反两面都要。在资讯证明自己的立场和大前提起冲突时,要有足够的虚心接受错误,改变立场。时局不是一成不变的。十年前的立场,可能不再适用于今天。
2。承认自己可能不是全对的,并且容许不同立场的存在。
3。正视每一个人的大前提和底线的不同。相同立场的人可能大前提完全相反,相反立场的人可能大前提完全相同。理解别人的大前提,有助于反省自己的立场。(其实很多的争吵和争论,是对别人的大前提不理解的一种现象。结果前提相仿的人反而闹得凶,前提相对的,反而称兄道弟。)
4。自己的大前提可能和自己的个人利益并不是正比关系。大前提的成功,可能意味着个人利益的损害,要有足够的健康心态去接受。
5。自己的底线可能和世界上大多数人的大前提不一样。这样注定是一个悲剧。要避免悲剧,就只有将自己的底线和大多数人的大前提进行利益绑困。

当然有人可能要问,为什么不以个人利益为大前提。虽然很想用道德论来解释,可是就算从实际上出发也行不通,除非你是天纵奇才。个人利益为大前提,误判率太高,往往得不偿失。为什么,因为以真正的“大”条件为前提,比较容易找到相同利益的群众。比如不要三战,相信很多人都会支持这个,所以成功的机率很高,而以个人利益为前提,则很难看清楚“大势”,立场不坚定,最后落个枉做小人的下场。不否认也有个别人物看清大势,跟随大势而成就个人利益的,而且还可能成就斐然,但是这些人的影响力是最受群众(所谓大势)控制的,所以没有必要防他们。

好了,说了一大堆影响力,大前提,立场,个人利益的,那现实中我们这等小市民究竟该干什么了?

答案是:小市民么,我们什么也不干,就做些攒钱过生活,吃吃饭,喝喝茶,上上网,看看电影之类的小事。嘿,我听见心底那一声叹息:说了通篇废话,什么影响力?还不是小市民什么都干不了,安分守己罢了。

你可不要小看这些生活琐碎事了。小市民的选择其中有大学问啊。文化就是体现在日常生活中的点点滴滴,衣食住行上面的。

简单来说吧,比如这个看看电影,我可是中文片子都花钱到电影院去看了。这是中华文化复兴的重要成分啊。只要能向投资者证明中文电影有市场,就会越来越多人愿意拍。可是有人要不依了。他们说,你这样盲目的支持,那中文电影的制作人就会不思进取,中文电影的质不会进步啊。

成,也对。既然你我底线相同,同为中华文化复兴大业,不如就不要硬分个对错了。我来提供观众数量,确保市场基金,你来提供影评,对不良中文电影大加鞭鞑,对好的中文电影大肆宣传,那我们一正一反的力量,正好实现质量两手抓,大前提提早来临的现实。

这个喝茶聊天也有学问。比如颜子就常常宣传世界多极论。喝茶聊天嘛,自然就会骂骂娘,我说了半天,往往结论就是感叹一声,唉,单极霸权就是问题多多,世界真是应该向多极权利发展啊。纯粹是感性的发言,和讨论的事情可能完全无关,也避开对个别事件立场的表述。这个是小市民的宣传。这个其实是互相影响的,比如颜子就从朋友那里知道许多新加坡的事情。有人要说,你一个升斗小民,费那么大心思搞宣传,顶个XX用啊?是不顶用,人家听了当耳边风呢。但是如果我朋友的公司里恰巧也有同事也持这个观点,就不同了。那两个人也不顶事啊!是不顶事。还差一个。老祖宗说的,三人成虎呢,宣传的临界人数都算好了。牛吧?

这里认真一下:政府发一句话,往往影响力大于任何个体,姑且不论好坏,这是一个现实。但是小市民的唱谣功力也是不可忽视的。怎么说呢?应该说健康的国民对政府发布的信息,或则是媒体上的新闻,都会有所保留。这就留下了诠释的空间。我的朋友们都是有独立思考,极有主见的人,自然不会因为颜子的片面之言就产生认知上的质变,但也因此不会全信政府的。蒙承他们看得起,颜子的看法至少被认为是虽然亲中,但尚为平衡的看法,有借鉴的价值。这样就很够了。小市民能做到这个程度,已是快要算得上是不安分守己了。这个和培养自己平时的公信力有很大的关系,后面会提及。

其实这些例子,要说明的不外乎这几点。

什么是民主?我对民主的解读是这样的:每一个人对自己的影响力负责任,并且在考虑自己的个人利益以及充分吸收并理解相关资讯后,选择自己的大前提和底线,并且设立相关立场,在有方向感的情况下,在不采取暴力手段抑制别人的底线上,选择性的行使自己的影响力。呼,好长一口气。我说了吧,小市民也有大学问的。这里说一下历史,很多农民起义的发生,就是因为很多当权者认为自己掌握大势,不理农民的底线(三餐温饱),所以才触发农民起义。这种事件,如果要避免,小市民首先就要明明白白的表述自己的底线。如果我们的底线是大多数,当权者就会知道这是大势。

至于历史的结果,每个人有自己的应对方式,如我所说,历史不会因为一个人而改变,而大势可能与自己的底线相悖。但是小市民可以选择改变自己的底线,也可以选择不与大势并存。颜子的底线是中华文明要延续下去(大前提基本有两个,世界要和平,中国要富强)。相信在有生之年,我的底线应该不会被触及。

小市民费那么大精力搞这些思想工作干什么?我只能说,在这个免煮柿油的大时代,小市民只有把这些思想工作都搞好了,日子才会舒坦。试试看就知道了。

说到这里,有人要大声疾呼,我堂堂华夏民族,中华天国,五千(一说七千)年优良文化的继承者,你让我当个小市民舒坦过日子,这是什么态度嘛。别急,老祖宗的家法还没抬出来呢。

这话说两千五百年前有位老祖宗曾经留下遗训,说做人要按部就班,“修身,齐家,治国,安天下”,这个顺序不可乱了。我堂堂华夏民族的。。。小市民,第一步的“修身”自然是要修的。

修身在这个现代社会来说,就是培养所谓的公民意识。何谓公民意识呢,就是我身为一个国家的公民,一个社会的代表,对这个国家社会有一定的责任。虽然不必人人抢当模范,但是至少不要树立坏榜样。

这些责任具体可以体现在这些方面:
1。照顾个人卫生和环境卫生。新加坡人有一个坏习惯就是随手扔垃圾。你说,没有搞错,新加坡也。。。是地,君不见,凌晨四点钟的洒水车和清扫大队。。。但是在政府四十年的苦口婆心下,终于有的新加坡人开始懂得要往垃圾桶扔垃圾了。当然这个和政府几乎五步一小桶,十步一大桶有关。公民意识,这是第一步。环境卫生是要促成个人卫生。个人卫生的目的是要维持个人健康。人健康至少有三个好处:自己活着开心,社会生产力提高,医疗体制压力减低。所以说公民意识从卫生开始。

2。对自己国家的了解。对自己国家文化要有一定的了解。不是每个人都能成历史通,饮食,服装,娱乐,政治形态,那一个不能成为文化?最低限度,对自己家乡附近的旅游景点,要有一些了解。这个为什么,这是因为。。。

3。当面对国外友人的时候,我们就是国家的迷你形象大使。你可能觉得我自代表自己,干国家什么事?但是很多人都爱拿国籍做文章。颜子曾经写过在新加坡要回国碰到火车脱轨导致严重误点,没有写的是当时新加坡的联合晚报就派记者来采访了。看好戏的心态或多或少是有的。问道颜子,当时我的说法就这样:个人并不感到生气,毕竟意外发生,谁也不想见到。希望当局能够尽快安排交通,不要耽误乘客的行程。当时忘了加上“希望当局能够找出原因,争取下次不要再发生。”否则就是标准的样板答案了。后来自己回想,还真是不遗余力地为马来西亚铁路局开脱啊。我当时就想,这么多人都在骂了,我一个小小市民为自己的国家留点面子,开脱开脱,不碍事吧?

4。不要乱说话。不要瞎起哄。不要散播谣言,特别是恶意的谣言。

5。参与公益活动。实现市场经济下的社会主义,人人有责。公益活动不是指捐款。毕竟在新加坡出现过著名的NKF丑闻(这个我就不多说了。放狗搜吧)。公益活动只的是义工。我们拿薪阶级的小市民,虽然算不上是既得利益者,也不算是弱势团体。政府照顾众多弱势团体,总有力有不逮的时候,我们也可以贡献自己小市民伟大的力量。有些义工的要求也很简单,象我朋友参与的一个就是到指定的面包店把日里剩余的面包载到老人院或则智障儿院,基本上每个星期一两次。当然这样的义工要求有车阶级。但是我朋友即便有车,平时开销也大,日子过得也不算遐意,但是这个义工还是坚持下来了。

为什么要建立自己的公民意识?因为公民意识的体现是你对身处的社会的正面贡献。这样的贡献会直接影响到前文提及的公信力。

那是不是有点沽名钓誉呢?怎么会?颜子列的这些点,都是很基本的东西。大多数的义工们都是默默无闻的。这样的公信力也只限于朋友间的。对于小市民,这样很够了,再下去就不安分守己了。

其实你也不要小看这五点“修身”的措施。不怕丢脸,颜子1,5就一直没办法做到(正在不甚积极的努力着)。我认识的朋友当中,也没有一个五个都能达到的。

说到这里却不得不停了。颜子第一级的“修身”就没过,齐家那是说不上了,至于治国平天下,那是别想啊,别想。

颜子向来只有一个小小的野心,就是在这个大时代当个光荣的小市民,发挥小市民伟大且和谐的力量。写这篇东西,是对自己思想的整理,是与志趣相投者共享,是请教,但绝对不是说教。光荣的小市民,说教这么不安分守己的事情,是绝对不会沾的。最后要再重复一次自己的观点,就是个人可以影响历史,但是历史绝对不会为一个人而改变。你觉得要批判便批判,你觉得要宣扬便宣扬,认为该干什么干什么去。至于我呢,听邻居大妈说,市上有一免煮牌柿油,味美而低胆固醇,当即买来蒸包子也。。。


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Monday, April 30, 2007

某、幸福的鲑鱼

今日下午,某人与某姐(此人无论年龄或资历都为“姐”字级,故称某姐)及某女(此人身份为国家级机密,甚至不能在网上提及其职称,只能称之为某女)相携到某日本餐厅,准备响应其周日自由餐的号召,大快朵颐。

话说某人与Salmon鱼实在有不解之缘。曾几何时,某人对日本人生吃鲑鱼的兽行十分发指,大加鞭搭,责其为日倭未开发的原始行为。谁知在某损友的诱导之下,浅尝一啖,方知生Salmon鱼片味道鲜美香醇,配上黑酱汁后更是余味无穷,从此沦为日倭之朋党,同流合污,效法那茹毛(某女插播:鱼有毛咩?)饮血的原始行为。

因此,在几乎空无一人的餐厅落座后,某人便摩拳擦掌,垂涎三尺,发下宏愿,誓将馆内鲑鱼都百川入海,直至将来鲑鱼见我如遇煞星,掉头游走。

前公司最近上演“大风吹”,一波三折,生旦净丑纷纷粉墨登场,热闹非凡,精彩绝伦,剧情直追香港周末黄金档。某姐与某女身为要角之耳目,自然剧情了若指掌,对于拍摄内幕更是如数家珍,八卦如某怎能失之交臂?自然是紧紧跟随左右,天热打扇,口渴奉茶,只为那独家的剧情预告,满足某人小小的好奇心。

如今尘埃落定,大结局便在两集之后,某人心满意足之余,便想锦上添花,画蛇添足,欲与久别的生鲑鱼片来个夕阳下的重逢,以增加幸福的级数。席间,自然来个剧情分析,对各个要角来个评头论足,以佐生鲑鱼片,豪情直逼以汉书下酒的古人。

其中最为可惜的是本来同为观众的某妹,看得太过投入,忍不住也锣鼓上阵,与武生及小生同演了一出“刀马旦”,结果到了幕后,反而被老生苛责,怪伊失了分寸。观者不禁同声一叹。其实伊自设台词气势磅礴,一句“你什么都不用说。。。”让某为之动容,实在不失为良材美玉,将来“星”途不可限量,只可惜上错舞台,落了个尴尬。

如今接近曲终人散,某姐最爱的老生已经下台三鞠躬,只剩大花脸盘踞舞台,某女最爱的老生则偃旗息鼓,退居一隅。某人与某姐已经意兴阑珊,准备移驾赶下一场好戏。某女则长吁短叹,大喊寂寞。莫非此剧亦将效法不良美国商业片的做法来个三部曲?莫非剧情终在续集中峰回路转,又来一旬“聚义梁山”?既然下场戏票已购,后续剧情也就只好靠某女告知了。

说话间,不觉日已西移,日本餐馆的小姐面带煞气的盯着某仨桌上的杯盘狼藉,某仨很知趣的付账走人,临走前却又忍不住点了一客生果。至于小姐头上是否已经乌云密布,雷电交加,却也顾不上了。

顶着肚子里大约一条生鲑鱼走出餐馆,某人突然忆起,鲑鱼都是逆流而上的,却千万不要在某人的归途中效法才好。

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Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Aftermath

Author Note: Metal Gear Solid Slash Fiction. Contained Sex, Violence and Swearing. Be forewarned.

Disclaimer: Any recognizeable Characters mentioned in this story belonged to their respective owners.
Feedback: Yes, please. Author can be reached at zuraffo@yahoo.com
Archive: My honor. Just let me know.

---

“Breathe.”

Solid Snake commanded himself. Sweat forming on his forehead was absorbed by his bandana, yet some trickled from his temples down his stubbled jaws and formed a spot of wetness beneath his chin. His breath came in short, gasping interval as he tried to steady his nerves.

He could still hear the cracking of snapping necks, the gargling of throats trying to catch their last breath, the muffled shrieks beneath his gloved hands when throats were slit opened, the sounds of blood rushing out from arteries. His body still tingled with the sensation of a dying body jerking against it. He knew he would be haunted by these sounds and sensations in days to come, when he would try to drown everything out with booze, until the next mission.

People assumed soldiers like them would eventually get used to killing. Snake found it amusing that these people, who had not taken a life with their own hands in their whole life, would presume to know anything about getting used to killing. If getting used involved being indifferent about killing, then nobody could claim to get used to killing. Snake would know. It took effort to fight the aftermath: the nightmares that ensued, the feelings of surreal that permeated everyday life.

That’s something Octacon, as much as he was a true friend, could never begin to understand, much less share, and that’s something Raiden would have to learn to deal with…

As Snake’s thought swayed to the newly acquainted agent, he was suddenly alerted by his non-presence. He swung about and saw Raiden kneeling among the dead bodies, a blank look on his face. Snake knew that look. That’s how he looked like after Shadow Moses for a long time. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the bullet hole on Raiden’s thigh, as blood gushed down the slashed materials.

Snake cursed silently under his breath, went over and pulled Raiden up with an arm circling his lithe waist. Raiden turned slowly and looked at him. A few blink later, he tried to struggle.

“Snake, I am fine…” Raiden tried, but the words came out strangled and small. And frightened, perhaps.

“No, you are not. Just shut up and we’ll go somewhere and take care that wound of yours.”

Snake felt his crotch tightened at the heat of Raiden’s body leaning against his, but he tried to ignore it. The horniness was one of the results of battle frenzy, and he had no intention to create another Octagon. Even though Octagon consented to the sex, even welcomed it, it felt wrong somehow. Snake knew how Octagon felt about him, and he felt like he was exploiting Octagon’s feeling for the sex, since he could not reciprocate the feeling. He only gave in because he would have gone insane otherwise.

Snake got him and Raiden to a relatively safe area. Looks like some kind of secluded storeroom. He put Raiden down and cut open the material with his Rambo Knife in swift motion, trying hard to ignore the smooth and hard muscles beneath his hands. As he had suspected, the bullet missed the arteries, so it wasn’t major, but the bloody mess made it looked worse than it really was. He bound the wound as best he could, all the while uncomfortably aware of the growing sexual tension between them.

When he looked up after he was done with the bandages, he bit back a curse meeting Raiden’s misty gaze. Behind those lost, empty eyes were fear, desperation, and raw, rampant desires.

Raiden grabbed Snake’s hands and whispered, “Don’t leave me, just yet.”

“What do you want?” Snake asked with tightened jaws, knowing the answers, yet asked nonetheless.

Snake felt a hand grabbed his crotch roughly and heard Raiden pleaded, “I need this, please.”

There was a tinge of insanity in Raiden’s eyes as he put a strong arm around Snake’s neck and pulled him into a ferocious kiss, a kiss with viciousness of a dying beast, like Raiden was trying to suck life out of Snake.

A muffled “fuck” escaped Snake’s ravaged lips as he gave in to his own lust and started to take off his battle suits. Their clung to each other tightly even when they tried to remove the materials between them, and a strong, pleasant sensation overwhelm them and washed out other feelings while their toned, hardened bodies met in their fully naked glory.

Raiden moaned lightly as he squeezed Snake tightly, ignoring all the bruises and cuts, his well-defined biceps bulging and straining with the effort. He hooked his muscled legs around Snake’s strong waists, and drowned himself in the sensations of their stiffened privates rubbing against each other’s.

Two bodies trained to kill move against each other with a roughness and callousness that had finally found their match. Hands that had gotten used to the weight of weapons now handled flesh that could withstand the intensity without holding back.

As they indulge themselves in the strong lustful sensations, even the lingering smells of blood and metal took on an amorous taste of sex that made them forget the horrors that had attached to these smells for a little while, at least long enough to bring their sanity back.

Afterwards, Raiden and Snake lay spent side-by-side, traces of their sex smeared on the floor, their bodies, and their discarded suits. They were exhausted after coming 3 to 4 times each; Raiden in Snake, Snake in Raiden, it didn’t really matter. What’s important was to feel another warm, living body against them, to ward off the dreadful coldness of death.

Snake looked at the bandage on Raiden’s thigh which was messed up during their romp and chuckled throatily.

“We’ll have to rebind that bandage.” He muttered softly.

“Fuck it, it ain’t going nowhere.” Raiden retorted tiredly.

“Gosh, I feel like taking a nap right here.”

“Are we in the clear yet?”

Octagon chose this moment to interject, the schooled calmness in his voice a pain did not betray.

“This side of the facility is cleared as far as I can tell. You have about 1 hour and a half before the other side check-in and realize something is going wrong. You can take a break now; I’ll wake you if necessary. Octagon out.”

He broke off from the codec before Snake could respond.

“Yeah, we are in the clear. Let’s sleep some.” Snake said groggily as he pulled Raiden up against his chest and spooned against the other soldier.

It wouldn’t be long before they collapsed into an exhausted, numbed and dreamless slumber; a rare moment of peace and healing before the next bout of killings begins.

Octagon scanned the area one last time before taking off his codec set, leaning heavily back into the high-back couch. A bitter grimace played on his lips as he took off his glasses. Perhaps that was for the best. That was the closest thing to love Snake had expressed to another person in a long time, had Snake still able to love. Witnessing the whole event, Octagon finally started to realize there existed a connection, a bond between soldiers that no civilian would likely understand.

And the worst part was, as Octagon realized as he shook his head in dejection and pain, it wasn’t all about the sex.

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Friday, December 29, 2006

The Exiles

This is a short story of my version of what happened after the end for KOTOR II. Excellent game. Starwars fan should play. If you can’t figure out from the conversation, it’s a story between Exile (Light side, Male) and Atton. I have found Atton irresistible during my course of game. He is simply cute! And I think he goes well with the Exile, especially when the Exile is Light Sided and Male. Don’t ask me. ;) As a side note, Dark-side Female Exile goes well with Visas, and I will write a story for them in the future. Once I finished the game again. :)

Disclaimer: Any recognizeable Characters mentioned in this story belonged to their respective owners.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Archive: My honor. Just let me know.
---


I was not surprised to find him there. The ‘Exile’, as he had begun to be known, seemed to have been exiled again. This time though, his prosecutor was none other than himself.

I once said that Nar Shaddaa was probably the best place to lose oneself in, but he knew he couldn’t have hidden from us there. At least, he couldn’t have hidden from me there. There was one place though, where none of us would think he would return: Telos, where our journey had begun, and where it had ended. However, perhaps I understood him more than he knew; I finally arrived at the entrance of this cramped, smoky and dingy Cantina to see his lonely figure across the room, sitting alone along the bar counter, facing away. His shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of the whole Galaxy. Kreia once dubbed they way he walked as the “Jedi Walk”, and I had found that amusing. After he went missing from Malachor V though, I found myself thinking about it. It had been a familiar sight during our short journey together, the Jedi Walk. While we traveled, he had always walked in front and seldom looked back, yet I had always felt… protected. Perhaps after staring at it for such a long time, the silhouette of his back had grown on me without me realizing. I had always found it giving the impressions of both strength and vulnerability, and, after I was no longer able to set eye upon it, realized I had always been comforted by its sight.

Many of us carried the same walk after revisiting Malachor V. He had shown us the force, and had therefore made it possible for us to felt the weight of responsibility that came with it.

I stalked across the room and made my way towards him. I had stalked up to many Jedi in my life, but this time, I was not aiming for the kill. Or perhaps I was, metaphorically speaking, aiming for the kill, just in a different sense.

I sat down besides him, our elbows barely touching. He didn’t look up, but I had a feeling he knew it was me.

“It’s been a while, Captain.”

“I am not your Captain anymore, Atton. Why do you look for me?”

“To invite you on a journey of carnage involving destroying planets and killing people. Really, why can’t I simply want to buy you a beer and catch up on old times? I know we didn’t meet under the best of conditions and you weren’t really dressed for the occasion but…”

He turned and smiled at me. There it was again, the steely grey pupils, several shades darker than my own. Made me short of breath when they rested upon me. Always.

“Atton! It was never about you. You want to buy me beer? Great! I am just running out of credits.”

I drew my breath in mock horror, “What happened to the great Jedi knight who saved worlds and rescued innocences? Why, did the Exchange stop paying you to keep you off their back?”

“Atton, while you might never understand the meaning and importance of ‘keeping a low profile’, I hope at least my training had allow you to grasp simple facts such as ‘not bringing enough credits’.”

Good, now he is smiling with his eyes. He had the tendency to become too serious during our journey. That’s why I had always played the fool: I liked his smiles.

“I see Kreia’s teaching is rubbing off on you.” I countered lightly, basking in the warmth of his company. Despite what happened, the inherent lightness about his being that made people comfortable around him still existed.

He paused for a while and asked quietly, “How is everyone?”

“Fine, I guess. Last I heard, Brianna is rebuilding the Jedi council on Dantooine, and Visas agreed to help after one last visit to Katarr. Bao-Dur went back to Telos and is helping with the rehabilitation effort. Mira went back to Nar-Shaddaa with G0-T0, although I am not sure what they are up to. Mandalore, well, he is being Mandalore.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I am at a loose end, so I got the Ebon Hawk and the droids, and the job to inform everyone should I manage to bump into you on the street. Or a Cantina.”

“Did it never occur to you that I might be dead?”

“With the bonds we had, we would have felt something through the force, right?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Not anymore.”

“What happened on Malachor V? I mean, I know Mira got threw out of the ship while we crashed, and fought a wookie or two and got all bloodied, but we managed to pick her up after things started falling apart. But none of us knew what happened in the Temple. Did Kreia try to kill you?”

He shook his head forlornly. I felt a ripple in the force. Again, he had severed himself from the force. I could feel the force rushed into him, and then rushed out, leaving nothing but echoes behind.

“I… killed Darth Traya…”

“You mean, you killed Kreia.”

He had a pained expression on his face, and nodded slowly.

“I am sure she left you with no choice, that manipulative witch. Still, how did you survive?”

He didn’t reply. My sympathy for him was matched with anger with Kreia. How could she break him so, when every of us knew he had looked up to her, respected her? Granted, we had all done silly things in our past, especially me, yet, I would never had been able to do such things to him. Anyone but him.

“Atton, how do you forgive someone who had betrayed you?”

“The real question is, how do you forgive yourself for doing the inevitable. It’s Malachor V all over, isn’t it? You had no choice, the lesser of two evils…”

“It’s different. It’s something more sinister. The first time on Malachor V, it was a war fought in the material world. With Kreia, it’s different. It was a war fought against the force, and it was lost since the beginning.”

“More Jedi Talk? You know, that’s probably why I didn’t sign up with Brianna when she asked. I never could manage that.”

He smiled briefly and painfully. No doubt he was recalling how we had met not long ago, on Peragus mining station. I mentally kicked myself for being so insensitive.

“You see, it was never about Jedi or Sith. Kreia was waging war with the Force itself since the beginning. I was supposed to be her weapon that strike at the Force. Yet, when she led me back into the Force, we both immediately became the pawns of the Force again. There is no way to use the Force without being used by the Force. Remember my words, Atton.”

“Is that why you severed yourself from the Force again?”

“Perhaps I was never connected to the Force to begin with. Kreia told me about Raven in the last moment, you know. She had wanted me to follow Raven to wage war on the real threat. The real Sith. I couldn’t.”

“How so? I know Raven is a terrible woman, but she is not ugly.”

“I have lost faith in the Force, Atton. I once thought the Force was a means to an end, a tool to make the world a better place; save lives; right the wrong... I couldn’t be more wrong, Atton. The force is a sentient thing with no regards to the lives of you and me. It manipulates your intentions and works through you to achieve its end, while giving you the illusions of being in control. Even Kreia couldn’t escape the fate of being used by the Force.”

“That was very un-Jedi-ish, well, very un-Sith-is as well. Look, whatever Kreia told you in the Academy on Malachor V, it’s probably Huttspit.”

“Really? How you figure that?”

“Look, Force or not, we decides our own fate. Kreia ended up where she was because she was a manipulative and bitter old witch and because she loved you. She probably saw a lot of herself in you, both exiled, both cut from the Force that you depended so strongly upon. That you have done it willingly was probably what intrigued her. Your inherent goodness was probably a beacon of hope for her.”

“You are not talking about Kreia only, right?”

He was still insightful. Good, I had been worried that the self-imposed exile had dulled his senses.

“No, no, you are right. Many of us saw the inherent goodness in you as our hope and strength. For Visas, Brianna, Bao-dur, and even Mandalore, to a lesser extend.”

“And you?”

“And me.” I thought I blushed at that; luckily the Cantina wasn’t bright enough for either of us to take notice.

“And Kreia too, I guess. She had said during her last moment that she would destroy the Galaxy to protect me…”

“Me too.” I said softly, not expecting it to be heard, but hoping it would be heard nonetheless.

But he did. He always had a good ear.

“You too, what?” He was looking at me intently.

“I too would destroy the Galaxy to protect you.” I cleared my throat, and met his gaze. He turned away.

“Well, in a sense, I guess we were all Exile, one way or another. Maybe that’s why we looked out for each other. Maybe that’s why we chose to stick together.”

I screamed in my heart, “But this is different! When I found out that you were training with the Echani, I warned her to keep her paws off you… I bet you never knew…”

But I kept it to myself, instead, I smiled and said, “Hey, it’s good to have our ole Jedi Captain back! Now we’re talking!”

“So…” He hesitated, “What are you doing next?”

“Well, I don’t know. It’s up to you I guess. We could start with going back to the Ebon Hawk, T3 will be delighted to see you… maybe we could go around and visits, or start looking for Raven…”

“Hey, enough with the ‘we’ already…” and finally we burst out laughing. It’s a rare but familiar laughter, clear, light, free of worries of the Galaxy.

We started heading out of the Cantina and I couldn’t resist but to continue:
“So where are we going next? Can we go somewhere I will not end up in a Force Cage again? Not that I mind, seeing how that had led me to you, but I am not sure I’ll be so lucky next time…”

Sometimes, words are not important. Sometimes, what is important is having an audience whom you care. Who cares about you.

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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

断章

你是让我停息的港湾,我用漂流对抗,直到我在你的怀中微笑着沉没。
-- 颜子 2006年8月22日,凌晨3点半。


(一)

九月十三,我回到故乡河畔。小小,静静的一条河,温柔的流过,贴心的把小镇分为东西。河水浑浊,常常有不明物体漂流其中,悄悄的述说小镇居民生活的点滴。河边长着成堆的杂草,底下是泞湿的黑土,无名的小虫子在其间流浪。疏疏落落的几棵大树,长得也不甚挺秀,有些随意的斜立着,倒成就了一片荫凉。

一棵稍大的树下躺着一块大石头,懒慵的迎着夕阳。我卷起牛仔裤的裤管,解开衬衫第一颗和最后一颗纽扣,平躺在大石上,望向天空。

小时候总觉得石头好大,两个人躺在上面还觉得宽倘。长大了,即使局促,还是坚持两个人肩并肩的躺着。什么都不说,看着天空,嘴角就不自觉地浮现笑意。如今闭上眼睛,耳边还仿佛传来他用正在发育中沙哑的嗓子说的话。以后,我们每年都回来这里吧。一直、一直到死。笃定的语气,似乎这件事天经地义。我看着天空,点了点头。虽然,我知道他不会看见,因为他也看向天空。

三十年过去了,我们各自拥有自己的天空,只是故乡河畔的那片天空,却为我们一年一度秘密的共同拥有着。无论尘世中喧嚷纷扰,心底最温柔的角落始终静谧。

因为里面有一道风景。夕阳把一切镀成金黄色,黄昏里有他的体温,他的味道,他的声音。

(二)

四个月前,接到他的电话。电话里他的笑意满满。
“你还记得答应过我什么事么?”
“记不起了。我什么时候答应了你什么事?”我笑着说。
“你记得的。你答应过如果我要死了,你会陪着我。”

我的心紧了一下,突然间呼吸有些困难,一股热气直往上冒。半晌,我用低了半调的沙声对他说:
“我肯定没有答应过你这件事。”
“那我就要死了,你要不要来陪着我?”他的声调也低沉了少许。
“要。”好不容易说出这个字,我闭上了眼睛。

眼前浮起他那双会笑的眼睛。

(三)

我们总是小心翼翼的错开彼此。上大学时,我们很有默契的选择了距离遥远的两所大学。大学毕业后,他选择到世界各地流浪,而我在邻近的小岛建立自己的事业家庭。只有每年一度,在故乡的河畔,我们一起渡过黄昏。

曾经在这样一个黄昏,他问过我,如果,不想失去,该怎么办?
我说,如果不曾拥有,那就不会失去。

他若有所思地说,或者,在最后一刻拥有,可能来不及失去。

我笑着问他,那你想怎么办?

他轻松的回答道,就这么办。

(四)

在医院看见他,首先看见他那双会笑的眼睛。镶在他病瘦了的脸上,显得特别的大。他发育以后就长得比我壮,现在这个身材,倒有些象少年时的样子。

“你还认得出我么?”他微笑着说。
“认不出了,要化成灰我才认得出。”这是我们见面常常说的一句话,我不自觉地说了,立马又后悔了。他只是呵呵笑,就像抓到我的小尾巴似的。

我坐到床边,轻轻抚过他的脸,心中满是酸楚。
“怎么这么瘦。”
“想你来着,想病的。”他很小声地说。
我看向别处。

他摇了摇我的手,
“喂,转过头,我等了二十几年了。”

我转过头,对着他,笑着让泪水痛快地流下。

(五)

小时候我很爱哭。

他比较野,和他一起玩,常常受伤。一受伤我就要哭,非得靠他哄得我笑。

六岁那年,有一次我哭得厉害,他实在哄不了,没办法之下,又累极,于是躺在地上一动也不动。我哭了一阵,发现他没有反应到自己平静下来,心里有些慌。那个时候,大人逗小孩子玩时偶尔会装死。所以那个年级对这件事有着莫名的恐惧感。

我看他没有动静,便推了推他,问道,喂,你死了吗?

他闭着眼睛,说道,我要死了,说完便伸出舌头。

我继续推着他,说,你骗人,你会说话,还没死。

他缩回舌头,说,现在还没死,你一哭我就要死了。

我一听,又哭起来了。他果然一动也不动。我继续用力的推他,口中一直说,你不要死,你起来。结果,我越哭他越不动,他不动我越慌,哭得益发不可收拾。最后,我勉强摄着心神,抽泣着说,你醒来,我再也不哭了。

那之后,我二十几年没有掉过一滴泪。

他常常为了此事耿耿于怀,觉得我为了当年一个玩笑这样执著,非常不对。据他说,非常怀念我哭的样子。我总是笑他活该。

他后来问过我,如果他要死了,会不会为了他哭,我当时笑说,你等着吧!

(六)

在医院那段日子,过得实在不好。据医生说,他还有三个月的寿命,不知道什么会死。一开始,我夜夜拥着他,根本不能入睡,担心他在我不知道的时候离开人世。其实,即便我醒着,我也不知道该怎么办,但是就是不想他在我不知道的时候离开我。

一个星期后,却又逐渐习惯,生活似乎回到我们中学一起住宿舍的时光。一起吃东西,一起聊天说笑。以一个濒死的人来说,他的精神是非常好的。偶尔想到他随时会挂掉,又感觉不真实。

直到有一天半夜,我被怀中的他惊醒,发现他皱着眉头,全身痉挛,满头是汗。我急得紧紧地抱着他,按紧急键呼叫医务人员。医生来了后给他打了一记止痛针,才渐渐的平静下来。

我才知道他是痛成这样的。那天晚上,我用湿毛巾帮他擦身子,心中一直不能平静。

(七)

我问过他,到底怕不怕死。

他大咧咧的说,当然不怕。人生都有一死,有什么好怕。

停了一下,又小声点的补充,如果有你在身边的话,我更加不怕。

我当时笑话他,什么叫更加不怕?

我现在可以理解,其实怕的不是死,而是怕死的时候,不能见到心里最重要的那个人。

怕的是那种无边无尽的寂寞。

所以有彼此在身边,才会比较不怕。

(八)

有一天他的精神特别好。我脑中特别不敢去想“回”、“光”、“返”、“照”四个字。

他坚持要到医院的花园走走。其实,他已经许久因为虚弱而没有出过病房了。我们也不用轮椅,就我背着他,在医院的花园散步。他俯在我的背上,微微的喘气。我小心的踏步,以免震动了他。小时候,总是他背着我,今天轮到我背他了。

走着走着,他突然贴着我的耳朵说,“谢谢你。”

“我们之间,不应该说谢字吧?”我继续小心的走着。

“我本来想说我爱你,又觉得太肉麻,所以就说谢谢你了。”他的语气透着浓浓的笑意,紧紧地把我包围,我眼前浮现他那双会笑的眼睛。

“说不说,没差。”我继续小心的走着。

“不,我还要说。有些话即使我们心底都明白,但是我要你亲耳听到。”

我停下脚步。

“我爱你。”

(九)

结果他走之前激烈挣扎了一番。

当天晚上,我一反常态的沉沉睡去,到了半夜才被怀中的他惊醒。

他的脸因为疼痛而扭曲着,抱着我双手力大出奇。口中大声地嚷着,我好疼!我不要死!我怕!
还有更多的尖叫和无意义的声音。我只能紧紧的回抱他,在他耳边不断地说话。

我只说一句话。

“别怕,我在。”

后来他完全的静了下来,好像睡去似的。我当时脑中心里一片混乱。虽然理智上知道他已经去了,双手仍然紧紧地用着他,不断地说,“别怕,我在。”直到医生来把我带出病房,到了走廊,才“哇”一声地哭了出来。

后来,医生对我说,从来没有看过一个在疼痛中死去的病人脸上有那么平静的表情。

(十)

在故乡的河畔,我从怀中掏出一个木盒,小心的打开盖子,轻轻的把盒子放在身旁的石面上。始终,在这里,仍然有我们共享的天空。

蓦然,大风吹起。我闭上眼睛,深深地吸了一口气。风里,有他的温暖,他的体味,他的笑声。

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Sunday, July 02, 2006

Ashes of memories

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to the wonderful Annie Proulx.
Rating: G
Feedback: Yes, thank you very much.

Summary: That's what I imagine will happen when Jack returns to the mountain.

When he was young, Brokeback was so full of life. Now there's only stillness.

The ageless rise and fall of the land made him small. Ennis Del Mar sits down gingerly again on the slope where he had found Jack Twist waiting for him, that summer a lifetime ago, after they spent their first night together.

He closes his eyes, and again feels the wind from twenty years ago, calling up bittersweet memories that are now painful; painful because they are all he has now; besides the little wooden box on his laps. .

He can almost feel the warmth of Jack Twist through the cold mountain air. He can see Jack declining on the slope, a stalk playing between his lips, young, beautiful, and innocent; a flame that means heaven to a freezing man, yet will nonetheless burn when hold too close. Ennis was never brave enough to embrace Jack. Now that the flame had died, he misses it terribly.

He remembers one night after telling Jack about a memory from his childhood, he found Jack looking at him funny, like he had just said something wrong. His had frowned and asked curtly what it had been. Jack only pulled him into his strong arms and held him tightly. Ennis had felt his heart soothed, and hurts he didn't even know existed started to heal.

Since then, he had realized that there would be no going back;

He stares at the box that held Jack's ashes. He still finds it hard to believe that Jack can be reduced into a box. In his memories, Jack is strong, volatile, and larger than life. Jack belong with the mountain, the wind, and the river.

He opens the casket carefully, and is suddenly gripped by an enormous sadness that makes his breathe short. This is what remains of his Jack.

The sky falls away, and the earth hushed.

Sudden gale rises from nowhere, and sweeps Jack's ashes into air, fluttering like so many winged memories. Clouds break away and sun's ray spills onto the slope, grass blazing like flame. Ennis Del Mar looks up and sees the horizon lined with a glorious gold. Soaked in the unique chill of Brokeback mountain, he finally returns home.

“Jack Fucking Twist.” Ennis mutters.

Saying that name never fails to bring smile to his face, even if tears are streaming down his cheeks.

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Sunday, June 25, 2006

吉隆坡的液体

今天总算找到组织了。

不知道听谁说过,天下间的同志吧都是一个样儿。倒是有目共睹的真理。

话说我来吉隆坡工作快一个月了,慢慢的在适应这里的生活。虽然收入少了,生活费高了,但是都不是我难以溶入这里的生活的原因。其实是还没有拜过山头。回想我以前到旧金山旅游,在Castro转一圈,立马觉得如鱼得水了。

这儿的同志吧,比坡上贵了一倍不止,但确实比较热闹,帅哥也比较多。吧名叫Liquid,翻成中文就成了“液体”,多了几分暧昧的色彩。吧分两层,底层是酒吧,顶层是迪厅。马来西亚人比较含蓄,迪厅到了午夜才开始热起来。大家跳起舞来就和其他地方一样了。一样有肌肉男在台上脱衣秀,一样有许多人在舞池边摇摆不定,无法决定是否就跳了。我一样在台上。一样泛滥的眉清目秀,一样燃放的青春。一样在舞池碰见许多在健身房见过的脸孔。谁说天下间只有一成的人是同志呢?真不科学。

音乐仿佛相识,但是太久没有跳舞,许多新的音乐还是不认识的。在迪厅蹦了两个小时,竟然觉得脚软,便跑到楼下的酒吧区想静静抽烟。酒吧的DJ放了舞曲,那儿的人跳得欢,倒让我无所适从。躲到一个角落点了烟,欣赏起自己抽烟的手势,徒然抖落一地的冷清寂寥。其他人不是成群结队便是成双成对,虽然自己是孤身惯了的,还是有些歉然,仿佛破坏了地头的规矩。孤独是可耻的,主要是因为别人看了是要兀突的。其实惯了就好。像我新加坡那些一起蹦迪的同志们,就很习惯我的孤身只影。

静静抽完了两只烟,实在提不起劲继续跳舞,就走了。计程车要收我二十块钱,我没力气还价,就依了他。在车上想睡觉,迷迷糊糊间记起自己的薪水不比从前了,决定以后再不去蹦迪了。反正已经知道地方在哪儿了,也跑不了。

下了车,却跑到网吧来写了这篇散文,想趁记忆犹新时记录一下,否则第二天一定没劲写。我现在越来越不爱写东西,特别这种流水细账,总觉得是浪费时间。

反正今天浪费的差不多了,也不争这半个小时。记一下,以后老了可以怀旧。日期是六月二十五日。没写下来,以后又要忘了这篇东西啥时写的。

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