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Final 2 comments re weather a bastardised new speak is an historical flash in the pan, or an objective reality are
Ever seen an Italian speak Latin?
A quote from Catch 22, by Joseph Heller Corgi Books pp261
""Well, frankly, I don't know how long America is going to last," he proclamed dauntlessly. "I suppose we can't last forever if the world is going to be destroyed one day. But I do know that we are going to survive and triumph for a long, long time."
"For how long?" mocked the profane old man with a gleam of malicious elation. "Not even as long as the frog?"
"Much longer than you or me," Nately blurted out lamely.
"Oh, is that all! That won't be very much longer then, considering you'r so gullible and brave and that I am already such an old man."
"How old are you?" Nately asked, growing intrigued and charmed with the old man inspite of himself.
"A hundred and seven." The old man chuckled heartily at Nately's look of chagrin. "I see you don't believe that either."
"I don't believe anything you tell me," Nately replied, with a bashful mitigating smile. "The only thing i do believe is that America is going to win the war."
"You put so much stock in 'winning' wars,' the grubby iniquitous old man scoffed. "The real trick lies in 'losing' wars, in knowing which wars can be lost. Italy has been losing wars for centuries, and just see how splendidly we've done nonetheless. France wins wars and is in a continual state of crisis. Germany loses and prospers.
Look at our recent history. Italy won a war in Ethiopia and promptly stumbled into serious trouble. Victory gave us such insane delusions of grandeur that we started a world war we hadn't a chance of winning. But now that we are losing again, every thing has taken a turn for the better, and we willcertainly come out on top again if we succeed in being defeated."
Nately gaped at him in undisguised befuddlement. "Now I
really don't understand what you're saying. You talk like a madman."
"But I live like a sane one. I was a fascist when Mussolini was on top, and I am an anti-fascist now that he has been deposed. I was fanatically pro-German when the germans were here to protect us against the Americans, and now that the Americans are here to protect us against the Germans I am fanatically pro-American. I can assure you, my outrage young friend"-the old man's knowing, distainful eyes shone even more effervescently as Nately's stuttering dismay increased-"that you and your country will have a no more loyal partisan in Italy than me-but only as long as you remain in Italt.
"But," Nately cried out in disbelief, "you're a turncoat! A time-server! A shameful, unsctupulous opportunist!"
"I am a hundred and seven years old," the old man reminded him suavely.
"Don't you have any principals?"
"Of course not."
"No morality?"
"Oh, I am a very moral man," the villanous old man assured him withsarcastic seriousness, stroking the bare hip of a buxom black-haired girl with pretty dimples who had streched herself out seductively on the other arm of the chair. He grinned at Nately sarcastivally as he sat between both naked girls in smug and threadbear splendor, with a sovereign hand on each.
"I can't believe it," Nately remarked grudgingly, trying stubbornly not to watch him in relation to the girls. "I simply can't believe it."
" But it's all perfectly true. When the Germans marched into the city, I danced in the stree like a youthful bellerina and shouted 'Heil Hitler!' until my lungs were hoarse. I even waved a small Nazi flag that I had sntached away from a beatiful little girl while her mother was looking the other way. When the Germans left the city, I rushed out to welcome the Americans with a bottle of excellent brandy and a bunch of flowers. The brandy was for myself, of course, and the flowers were to sprinkle upon our liberators. There was a very stiff and stuffy old major riding in the first car, and I hit him squarely in the eye with a red rose. A marvelous shot. You should have seen him wince."
Nately gasoed and was on his feet with amazement, the blood draining from his cheeks. Major ---- de Coverley!" he cried.
"Do you know him?" inquired the old man with delight. "What a charming coincidence."
Nately was too astounded even to hear him"So you're the one who wounded Major ---- de Coverley!" he exclaimed in horrified indignation. "How could you do such a thing?"
The fiendish old man was unperterbed. "How could I resist, you mean. You shouls have seen the arogant old bore, sitting there so sternly in that car like the Almighty Himself, with his big rugud head and his foolish, solemn face. What a tempting target he made! I got him right in the eye with an American Beauty rose. I thought that was most appropriate. Don't you?"
"That was a terrible thing to do!" Nately shouted at hin reproachfullyt. "A viscious and criminal thing. Major ---- is our squadron executive officer!"
"Is he?" teased the ubregenerate old man, pinching his pointy jaw gravely in a parody of repentance. " In that case, you must give me credit for being impartial. When the Germans rode in, I almost stabbed a robust young Oberleutnant to death with a sprig of edelweiss."
Nately was appalled and bewildered by the abominable old man's inability to percieve the enormity of his offense. "Don't you realise what you've done vehemently. "Major ---- de Coverley is a noble and wonderful person, and everyone admires him."
"He's a silly old fool who really has no right to act like a silly young fool. Where is he today? Dead?"
Nately answered softly with somber awe. "Nobody knows. He seems to have disappeared."
"You see? Imagine a man his age risking what little life he has left for something so absurd as a country."
Nately was instantly up in arms again. "There is nothing so absurd about risking your life for your country!" he declared.
"Isn't there?" asked the old man. "What is a country? A country is a piece of land surrounded by Boundaries, usually unnatural. Englishmen are dying for England, Americans are dying for America, Germans are dying for Germany, Russians are dying for Russia. There are now fifty or sixty countries fughtibng in this war. Surely so many countries can't all be worth dying for/"
"Anything worth living for," said Nately, "is worth dying for."
"And anything worth dying for," answered the sacrulegious old man, "is certainly worth living for. You know, you're such a pure and naive young man I almost feel sorry for you. How old are you? Twenty-five? Twenty-six/"
"Ninteen," said Nately. "I'll be twenty in January."
"If you live." The old man shook his head, wearing, for a moment, the same touchy, meditative frown of the fretful and disapproving old woman. "They are going to kill you if you don't watch out, and I can see now that you are not going to watch out. Why don't you use some sense and try to be more like me? You might live to be one hundred and seven,too."
"Because it's better to die on one's feet than live on one's knees," Nately retorted with triumphant and lofty conviction. "I guess you've heard that saying before."
"Yes, I certainly have," mused the trecherous old man, smiling again. "But I'm afraid you have it backwards. It is better to LIVE on one's feet than die on one's knees. THAT is the way the saying goes."
"Are you sure?" Nately asked with soft confusion. "It seems to make more sense my way."
"No, it makes more sense my way. Ask your friends."
Nately turned to ask his friends and discovered they had gone.................................................
Volodya987
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