revision
05-20-2009, 11:09 AM
“Psychokinetic” war against the brains of Europeans
Today’s Europeans, severed from their past and thus from their veritable identity, are like a lost flock, left to shift about in a rapidly changing world, no longer knowing any means of satisfaction but unbridled materialistic enjoyment (a fleeting enjoyment that quite often ends in sorrow).
It reminds me of the film Dark City (1998), in which several thousand human beings, abducted by aliens, have been put in a huge laboratory city floating in space. Every night the aliens modify reality (changing the city and going so far as to imprint a new memory in the mind of each person) in order to observe human behaviour in the situations thus created.
In this way they hope to understand the working of the human soul. They are aided by a psychologist who’s had his primary memory erased.
At one point, a “guinea pig” who’s discovered the truth asks him: “You say they brought us here. From where?” The psychologist answers: “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. None of us remember that... what we once were... what we might have been... somewhere else.”
The first time I saw this scene – it was one night while I was putting stamps on letters – I immediately said to myself: “With their past erased, falsified, the destiny of these people is shattered. They no longer know who they are and they’re not what they ought to have been. They struggle with fictitious problems in an artificial world; they wander aimlessly awaiting death… In the end, they’re like the European peoples today… Without a past, without a future. They’re like us.” I replayed the scene several times, for I was truly moved.
(Source: Vincent Reynouard, in Réflexions d’un révisionniste pris dans la tourmente, pages 57-58, Samizdat éditions 2005)
Today’s Europeans, severed from their past and thus from their veritable identity, are like a lost flock, left to shift about in a rapidly changing world, no longer knowing any means of satisfaction but unbridled materialistic enjoyment (a fleeting enjoyment that quite often ends in sorrow).
It reminds me of the film Dark City (1998), in which several thousand human beings, abducted by aliens, have been put in a huge laboratory city floating in space. Every night the aliens modify reality (changing the city and going so far as to imprint a new memory in the mind of each person) in order to observe human behaviour in the situations thus created.
In this way they hope to understand the working of the human soul. They are aided by a psychologist who’s had his primary memory erased.
At one point, a “guinea pig” who’s discovered the truth asks him: “You say they brought us here. From where?” The psychologist answers: “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. None of us remember that... what we once were... what we might have been... somewhere else.”
The first time I saw this scene – it was one night while I was putting stamps on letters – I immediately said to myself: “With their past erased, falsified, the destiny of these people is shattered. They no longer know who they are and they’re not what they ought to have been. They struggle with fictitious problems in an artificial world; they wander aimlessly awaiting death… In the end, they’re like the European peoples today… Without a past, without a future. They’re like us.” I replayed the scene several times, for I was truly moved.
(Source: Vincent Reynouard, in Réflexions d’un révisionniste pris dans la tourmente, pages 57-58, Samizdat éditions 2005)