Friday 19 June 2015

A Clockwork Testament

Many appy polly loggies o my brothers. It has been a while since you heard from your humble narrator, Alexander  DeLarge. As it is I've been rather busy, rabbiting away for the government in an advisory role on such diverse subjects as social alienation and ultraviolence amongst the young. Visting skolliwolls and youth clubs, re-engaging with disenfranchised young malchicks and chellovecks. The government seems to be convinced that someone like me is ideally placed to get inside the rassoodocks of these lewdies. Though the old 20-1 is on the rise among devotchkas and ptitsas, it is generally much rarer and not so much of a pain in the gulliver for the authorities.
 "What's it going to be then eh?" was the question I asked the young chelloveck I was govoreeting
with. He was uninteressovated in the hand wringing by the starry old vecks in the government.
He explained to me that it made his mozg bezoomy when a molodoy ptitsa or devotchka didn't respond to him. That when she told him in a high preachy sort of a goloss that she wasn't interested in spatting with him, he wanted to tolchock her and rip of her platties and have her on the floor, real savage like. I explained how I had once thought like that but now kopated that sharps were lewdies too. He remained unconvinced my little brothers. He was firm in his conviction that you could only really trust your droogies. Devotchkas only really wanted to control your jeezny and spend your cutter. Some people, trickcylists and other oomny ones believe that these lewdies are vreded in the soul, probably because their Pee and Em were inadequate. Usually the Em, her sins being less forgiveable than the Pee's. What ever the reason, when these molodoy malchicks grow up to become moodges and pees the creeching and tolchocking continues o my brothers, having as one might say an adverse effect upon their zheenas and cheenas. Not to mention their rebyonoks.
  Now, when I was released from the hospital, after the doctors and nurses mended my poor broken plot, I underwent what is known as 'rehabilitation'. Part of this involved govoreeting with a councillor. What this cheena had to skazat related to the label which had been given to your humble narrator. 'sociopath'. You see I had been told I had a condition whereby I couldn't 'emapthise' with others. And because I was sick, the state thought it only just to try and cure me. The councillor forella told me she thought I was perfectly capable of empathising, and that I chose not to. This is what is called 'evil' in old fashioned parlance. Even so the state was wrong to take away my power to choose between the horrorshow and the plockhoy. For when they did that I ceased to be a fully functioning malchick. Like a tom kot without his yarbles. So you viddy my brothers, whatever happens to a malchick when molodoy does not remove his ability to choose. When you think of sharps as sookas, like they are less than malchicks, it is because it makes it easier for you to treat them like cal. Some lewdies think malchicks and chellovecks are born predisposed to think that way. If I'm honest bratties, we probably are, this mesto being what is and lewdies what they are. It is not that we viddy things this way, but that we make no effort to viddy things other. Empathy, can then be a choice and can increase with years, like wisdom. So I leave you with this, o my brothers, try and relate to devotchkas and ptitsas as lewdies first. Less about the old in-out, that's the klootch.

                                             Alexander DeLarge formerly Staja 84F inmate 655321