Chapter 16 Part Two (6)

"Stop, stop, stop," I kept yelling. "Shut it off, you bastards, I can't take it anymore." The second largest, morning and afternoon, I do my best to cater to them, smiling and playing cooperative children in the Xinma chair, letting them show disgusting movies. In the ultra-violent scene, the eyes are clamped and kept open for a long time, and the body, hands, and feet are fixed on the chair, unable to move at all.What forces me to watch now is what I used to think wasn't too bad, but three or four boys ransacking the store, stuffing leaves in their pockets, and at the same time teasing the old woman who owns the shop, making her scream and make red blood run out .But Gulliver's throbbing and booming booming, nauseating, dry, restless thirst were much worse than yesterday. "Oh, enough is enough!" I yelled. "It's not fair, bitches," I struggled to get out of the chair, impossible, stuck to it.

"Wait a minute," cried Dr. Brodsky. "You've done well. One more time and we've made it." Now here comes the old World War II story again, the film is full of spots and scratches, it can be seen that it was filmed by German soldiers.It opens with German eagles and swastika flags that all schoolchildren love to draw with an X, followed by tall, majestic German officers walking down dusty streets through bomb craters and ruined walls.Then let you see people shot against the wall, the officer ordered to shoot, and the horrible naked body was lying in the ditch, with bare ribs and thin white legs.Then someone is dragged away, still being pushed and shoved, and the screaming ain't on the soundtrack, just the music on it, guys.At this moment, in spite of my pain and nausea, I noticed what kind of music was crackling and booming in the soundtrack. It was the last movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, and I shouted desperately, " STOP! STOP, nasty whore. It's a crime, exactly, a nasty, unforgivable sin, bastards!" They didn't stop right away, because they had only a minute or two to go—people Beaten, bloody, then more firing squads, swastika flags, "over".The lights came on, Dr. Brodsky and Dr. Branon stood before me, and Dr. Brodsky said:

"What do you mean by sin?" "Yeah," I said in disgust, "abusing Beethoven like that, he didn't hurt anyone. Beethoven just made music." And then I was so disgusted they had to bring a waist-shaped bowl. "Music," said Dr. Brodsky thoughtfully. "You were into music. I don't know anything about it myself. I know it's a useful lifter. Yes, yes. What do you think, Branon?" "There is nothing to be done," said Dr. Brannon. "Everyone kills what he loves, as the prisoner poet said. Perhaps this is the element of punishment, and the warden should be satisfied."

"Give me something to drink," I said, "for God's sake." "Untie him," ordered Dr. Brodsky. "Give him a glass jar of ice water." The subordinates sprang into action, and soon I was drinking gallon after gallon of ice water. Brothers, it was like heaven, Dr. Brodsky said: "You look smart enough, and you don't seem to be aesthetically savvy, you just have this kind of violence in your nature, don't you? Violence and theft, and theft is an aspect of violence." I didn't say a word, still feeling sick , but it's better now.It's been a terrible day. "Well, listen," said Dr. Brodsky, "how do you think this is done? Tell me, what do you think we did to you?"

"You guys make me sick and I get sick when I watch your dirty perverted movies. But it's not the movie that's doing the work, it's just that I feel like if you stop showing the movies, I'll stop being sick." "Yes," said Dr. Brodsky. "That's association. It's the oldest method of education in the world. What really makes you sick?" "This dirty and obscene thing from my Gulliver and my body," I said, "that's it." "Strange," said Dr. Brodsky, smiling, "the tribal dialect. Do you know its etymology, Branon?"

"A few bits and pieces of rhyming slang," replied Dr. Brannon, who was less of a friend now. "There's a little gypsy. But most of the words are Slavic. Red propaganda. Subconscious infiltration." "Well, well, well," said Dr. Brodsky, impatient and no longer interested. "Here," he said to me, "it's not the wires. It's nothing to do with what's strapped to you. It's just for measuring your reflexes. So what's it?" I woke up now, of course, what an idiot I was, didn't notice it was a hypodermic in my arm, "oh," I yelled, "oh, now I get it. Dirty shit prank, broken promise, Fuck you, you won't succeed again."

"I'm glad you objected," Dr. Brodsky said. "We can figure it out now. We can use various methods to inject the substance invented by Lu into your body. For example, taking it orally. But the subcutaneous method is the best, please don't fight it. Fight it It's pointless. You can't beat us." "Smelly bastard," I sobbed. "I can't do anything about shit like superviolence, I'm willing to put up with it. But it's not fair when it comes to music. It's not fair that I'm sick of listening to lovely Beethoven, Handel, etc. It all goes to show , you are a bunch of ugly bastards, I will never forgive you, whores."

They both looked thoughtful.Later, Dr. Brodsky said: "Setting boundaries is always difficult. The world is one, life is one. The sweetest, most beautiful activities involve a certain amount of violence—like acts of love." La; music, for instance. You've got to take your chances, boy. The choice is always yours." I didn't understand all of the words, but at this point I said: "You don't have to do this anymore, sir." I adjusted my attitude slyly. "You guys have proven to me that all this fighting, hyperviolence, killing is wrong wrong, dead wrong. I've been taught my lesson, sirs, and I now understand what I didn't understand before. I'm healed , praise God." I lifted my eyes to the ceiling in a divine manner, but the two doctors shook Gulliver mournfully, and Doctor Brodsky said:

"You're not healed yet. There's still a lot to do, only when your body responds to violence as swiftly and violently as a poisonous snake, without further help from us, without drugs, only then—" I Say: "But sir, sirs, I know that's wrong. It's wrong because it's anti-social, because every human being on earth has a right to life, and a happy life can't be accompanied by beatings, shoves, and stabs. I've learned A lot, really a lot." But Dr. Brodsky laughed, showing all his white teeth, and said: "Heretics in the Age of Reason," and something like, "I know what's right, and I applaud it, but what's wrong is to be done as well. No, no, boy, you must leave it all to us. And Have fun doing it. It'll be over soon, and you'll be free in two weeks." Then he patted me on the shoulder.

In two weeks, brethren and friends, it lasts as long as a lifetime, as from the first day of the world to the last.The 14-year prison sentence served in the National Prison without commutation cannot be compared with it at all, and it is the same old routine every day.However, after talking with the two doctors, when the girl came over with the injection, I said, "Oh, you can't," pushing her hand away, and the syringe fell to the ground with a thud.That was to observe what they did, and they let four or five big bastards in white coats hold me down on the bunk, with grinning faces pressed against my face, pushing me, and then the nurse said: " You wicked naughty little devil," while stabbing my arm with another syringe and brutally squirting the substance in.In the end, I was exhausted and wheeled to the same hellish movie theater as before.

Every day, the movie is the same, full of punches and kicks, red blood dripping from faces and bodies, splashing all over the camera.Usually grinning boys in Nachage fashion, but also snickering Japanese torturers, or murderous Nazi kickers and shooters.Day after day, nausea, headaches, toothaches, severe thirst, and the feeling that life is worse than death is getting worse.Until one morning, I tried to beat the bastards by turning my head against the wall and knocking myself unconscious, but it ended up being disgusting to see the violence so much like the violence in the movies, so I was exhausted and let it go They gave injections and still pushed away the matter. Then one morning I woke up, after breakfast, eggs, toast, jam, steaming milk tea, and it occurred to me, "It won't be too long now. It must be very close to the end. I've had enough There is no more suffering.” I waited and waited until the female nurse came in with a syringe, but she didn’t come.Appeared is the white coat, he said: "Old friend, today we are going to let you walk." "Walking?" I asked. "Where are you going?" "The old place," he said. "Yeah, yeah, don't be so surprised. You're going to the movies on foot, of course with me. No more wheelchairs." "But," I said, "what about the dreaded morning shot?" I was really amazed at how keen they were to inject me with the so-called Louie substance. "Stop injecting that horrible, disgusting substance into my poor, miserable arm?" "It's over," the guy smiled. "Amen forever and ever. You are free now, child, to walk to the place of horror. But you have to be strapped in, and you are forced to watch. Come on, little tiger." I had to put on my robe and slippers and walk through the corridor, Go to that cinema. Brothers, this time I am not only extremely disgusted, but also extremely confused.The old clichés are back, those ultra-violent ones, people being beaten to gullivers, bloody girls screaming for mercy, private individual teasing and evil; plus POW camps, Jews, gray foreign streets Filled with tanks and military uniforms, people fell under the sound of gunfire that destroyed everything. This is the violence of ordinary society.This time I was nauseous, thirsty, in pain and couldn't blame anything other than being forced to watch a movie; my eyes were still clamped open, my feet and torso were still strapped to the chair, but the wires on the body and Gulliver All of these were removed.So, besides the movie I'm watching, what else is working on me?Unless, of course, this lug thing turns into a vaccine and swims through my veins, and the sight of superviolence always makes me sick forever and ever.And so, with my mouth open, I began to weep, and the tears were like silver dewdrops sent by God, covering what forced me to look.But these bastards in white coats quickly brought handkerchiefs, wiped away their tears and said, "Okay, ok, they're all wailing brats." , the Jews were begging and crying, men, women and children were all going to the gas chamber to wait to be killed, I had to cry again, and they came to wipe away the tears, and the action was so fast that I couldn't miss a little bit of what was being shown.This is a very dreadful and dreadful first year, brethren and only friends. After dinner, stuffed with fatty mutton soup, fruit pies, and ice cream, I lay on my bunk and thought to myself: "Damn, damn, go out now, maybe there's still a chance." But I no weapons.This place doesn't allow you to keep razors, there is a bald fat man next door to help you shave, come to the bedside to shave before breakfast, followed by two white coat bastards, make sure I am well behaved and not violent.My fingernails have been cut off and filed clean so as not to scratch people. I am still quick in attacking, but my body has been softened.So I got out of bed, ran to the locked door, slammed on the door, and yelled, "Help, help. I'm sick, I'm dying, doctor, doctor, hurry up. Please." .I'm going to die, I'm going to die. Help." My throat was dry and the pain was very painful, but no one came.It was only later that I heard footsteps and complaints in the corridor, and I recognized it as the white coat who accompanied me to suffer.He muttered: "What's the matter? What's the matter? What mischief are you doing in there?" "Oh, I'm dying," I moaned. "Oh, severe pain in the flank. It's appendicitis. Yo——." "Cecum fart," the fellow muttered; and then, as I heard the click of the key, I cheered up, "If you play tricks, boy, then my friends and I'll be kicking and kicking you all night." And then He opened the door and sent me a scent that promises a future of freedom.He pushed open the door, and I was hiding behind the door, only to see him looking for me in confusion by the light in the corridor.So, I raised two fists and hit him hard on the head and neck.At this moment, I swear, I seem to foresee him falling to the ground and moaning or fainting. Just as the euphoria in my heart rises, the nausea in my body suddenly surges like a wave, and then I feel a severe fear, as if I really It's a pity, I staggered close to the bed, groaning, the guy didn't wear a white coat, but a long nightgown, he saw clearly what was going on in my mind, blurted out: "Hey, there's a lesson in everything, isn't it? You're learning all the time, so to speak. Come on, kid, get up and hit me. I want you to hit me, really. Hard Hit the chin. Well, I want to be spanked, for sure." But all I can do is to lean there and sip my seat, wow wow wow. "Society scum," the guy scoffed. "Heap of shit." He grabbed my pajamas by the nape of the neck and dragged me up. I had already collapsed limply. He swung his right arm and swung my face cleanly.He said, "This is to trick me out of bed, little beast." He rubbed his hands together and walked away.The key clicked and turned in the lock. Brethren, what I'm going to sleep at this moment to hide from is that horrible, deranged feeling that it's better to be beaten than to be beaten.If the guy hadn't gone away, I'd have put the other face in too.