think. Yes, we need something to function as a protective wall between us and the global locusts , and until (in Monbiotâs apt phrase) we organise the counter-globalisation , the nation state may in fact, may it not, be our one bulwark against Coca-Cola-acculturation , our only salvation from the subordination of all nations (and national faiths, national cultures) to the dictates of the WASP Ãberpower?
âWow, Eamon, thatâs great! I think Iâve got it! Itâs all coming back! Can I have a go?
âTake it away, Johnny, and be good!
âSo, I mean, well, if we accept the above, as surely we must, is it really going too far to suggest, er, that East Germany was in some very real ways the more authentically German Germany, compared with the mere NATO colony and US missile base of the West?
âGo, Johnny, go go go. You are sucking diesel now, my man!
â Great! Um, OK. So, so⦠what, ultimately, was theguarantee of the GDRâs continuing ability to insulate its citizens from the terrible ravages of neo-conservative free-market ideology, if not the robust defensive military and cultural structures of the Warsaw Pact? So by observing events for the KGB, exactly who was Heiner Panke, in the end , really âbetrayingâ? Germany? Or America? Howâs that sort of sneery voice for meaning quotation marks, Eamon?
âIt works for me.
âThanks! And well, um, is the good of America really to be our litmus test of all personal and political action? If so, what exactly is the difference between this position and the with me or against me of George W. Bush?
âJaysus, Johnny, you got it! Always suggest that anyone against you is really just a supporter of good olâ W, then you start the game serving for the match with the sun right in their eyes. What a gift the man is!
âThanks, Eamon! I really think Iâve got it this time.
âI doubt it, Johnny. But I am always here for you. And just make sure you give it with style, Johnnyboy, inasmuch as your lamentable physical equipment allows for style at all. Remember the secret of modern academic life: it doesnât matter what youâre on the box for, so long as youâre on the box.
âGreat! Thanks, Eamon.
âMy pleasure. May I get back to my other and better life now? I very much want to arrange an actual assignation tonight. Man cannot live by cybersex alone. At least, this one canât.
âI havenât arranged anything with anyone all week. I havenât been single since before the Berlin Wall fell.
âAh, happy days of certainty and missions! But we have eaten of the apple, John the Good, and there is no way back. It would be very fab indeed to knownothing once again, wouldnât it just? To trust the smiling priest who just happens to like ruffling boyish hair. To march along with the bold comrades, convinced that the Warsaw Pact wants only peace and the IRA are a bunch of romantic rebels. Pity. Farewell, Johnnyboy.
I listened to the dead phone line for quite a long moment. Then I blinked myself back to earth. Yes, the past was a happier place, but it was gone.
Quickly, before I could begin to doubt my newly recharged postmodernism, I fired up the laptop. The Very Important Paper jumped out of its sleep again, wide awake. And yes, how plodding and serious it sounded, compared to the free-flowing playfulness of Father Eamon! That was what I needed. Right. Simple. Less boring stuff about meanin g, and more pomo topsp in â¦
God, I had been so right to wait. The gun was perfectly safe where it was for now. All was still possible: the VIP would be a triumph and then, well, who knew?
Just to make absolutely sure that nothing impossible had happened in our garden while I was out, I opened the French windows and peered from the kitchen into the darkness.
Newton was still right, as usual.
There was the filled pit, just as I had left it, sitting quietly out in the cold and the
âWow, Eamon, thatâs great! I think Iâve got it! Itâs all coming back! Can I have a go?
âTake it away, Johnny, and be good!
âSo, I mean, well, if we accept the above, as surely we must, is it really going too far to suggest, er, that East Germany was in some very real ways the more authentically German Germany, compared with the mere NATO colony and US missile base of the West?
âGo, Johnny, go go go. You are sucking diesel now, my man!
â Great! Um, OK. So, so⦠what, ultimately, was theguarantee of the GDRâs continuing ability to insulate its citizens from the terrible ravages of neo-conservative free-market ideology, if not the robust defensive military and cultural structures of the Warsaw Pact? So by observing events for the KGB, exactly who was Heiner Panke, in the end , really âbetrayingâ? Germany? Or America? Howâs that sort of sneery voice for meaning quotation marks, Eamon?
âIt works for me.
âThanks! And well, um, is the good of America really to be our litmus test of all personal and political action? If so, what exactly is the difference between this position and the with me or against me of George W. Bush?
âJaysus, Johnny, you got it! Always suggest that anyone against you is really just a supporter of good olâ W, then you start the game serving for the match with the sun right in their eyes. What a gift the man is!
âThanks, Eamon! I really think Iâve got it this time.
âI doubt it, Johnny. But I am always here for you. And just make sure you give it with style, Johnnyboy, inasmuch as your lamentable physical equipment allows for style at all. Remember the secret of modern academic life: it doesnât matter what youâre on the box for, so long as youâre on the box.
âGreat! Thanks, Eamon.
âMy pleasure. May I get back to my other and better life now? I very much want to arrange an actual assignation tonight. Man cannot live by cybersex alone. At least, this one canât.
âI havenât arranged anything with anyone all week. I havenât been single since before the Berlin Wall fell.
âAh, happy days of certainty and missions! But we have eaten of the apple, John the Good, and there is no way back. It would be very fab indeed to knownothing once again, wouldnât it just? To trust the smiling priest who just happens to like ruffling boyish hair. To march along with the bold comrades, convinced that the Warsaw Pact wants only peace and the IRA are a bunch of romantic rebels. Pity. Farewell, Johnnyboy.
I listened to the dead phone line for quite a long moment. Then I blinked myself back to earth. Yes, the past was a happier place, but it was gone.
Quickly, before I could begin to doubt my newly recharged postmodernism, I fired up the laptop. The Very Important Paper jumped out of its sleep again, wide awake. And yes, how plodding and serious it sounded, compared to the free-flowing playfulness of Father Eamon! That was what I needed. Right. Simple. Less boring stuff about meanin g, and more pomo topsp in â¦
God, I had been so right to wait. The gun was perfectly safe where it was for now. All was still possible: the VIP would be a triumph and then, well, who knew?
Just to make absolutely sure that nothing impossible had happened in our garden while I was out, I opened the French windows and peered from the kitchen into the darkness.
Newton was still right, as usual.
There was the filled pit, just as I had left it, sitting quietly out in the cold and the
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