In the realm of the Eighties, there lurked a hidden gem known as the White Night Bookstore. It was nestled in the heart of Chengdu, and its tales of poet and artist Zhai Yongming have enraptured viewers in a documentary screening last night. For two decades, poetry, prose, and the interests of the young formed a seemingly tragic combination that brought forth a vibrant era. But, perchance, was she also playing a game with her friends, the poets? Those nights, with their loud and boozy debauchery, were surely not as heavy as they may seem.
In said documentary, there was an almost seditious declaration that she was first and foremost, fun. And so, people gathered at White Night for her personality - fun is what the universe needs, for it would not do to have a world so grave.
This sentiment reminds me of my own schooling, a time where grades weighed heavily on our shoulders. Scores and ranks were fought over in cramped offices, and it obscured our youthfulness. A pity, but perhaps we too were playing a game, one where we had to fulfill society's demands.
Alas, today's proclivities are more onerous than ever. Going to a mall seems an opulent fancy now, as the pandemic rages on. Oh, how it seems to control us, instead of the other way around.
Speaking of governance, one particular ideology posits that we must seek inspiration from our traditions, namely Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism, to address Maoist China's governing. Both modern conservatism and liberalism attempt to construct a new universalism based on Mao's path.
But the ideas are riddled with schisms and contradictions, and the reconciliation of values prevail over the horizontal integration. However, the Beijing Winter Olympics provides us with an opportunity to imbue universalism onto its aesthetic and technological union, from 'me' to 'we,' from Mao's China to the entire world. Though this novum is young and naive, it instills in us a new worldliness, awakening Maoist China's new-world-ism.
I wrote of these things on my public accounts and my channels, but I find them pointless now. People are timid and quick to change, and their time, focus, rage, and sorrow wane. Thus, when the battle is concluded, Iron Chain is scarce, and those empathetic indignation and melancholy shift naturally. Such is the nature of humanity, and it is not criticism. These traits birth when they are under "high-pressure," and with better societal structures, the other side of humanity will show.
Tonight, I mark this page as the beginning of my own forgetfulness.