The BFD | Thoughts Are Free

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Satire

THOUGHTS ARE FREE

Klouse (the K is silent) Swab, supreme leader of the World Ectoparasitic Floor’em, sat at his computer reading emails. As he did so, he softly sang (to the tune of ‘Oh Mein Papa’),

“Oh mein reset,

to me you are so beautiful

Deep in my heart,

I reset more each day.”

You will own nought,

And I will be so ha-appy…”

Suddenly he stopped and his mouth quivered fearsomely, the nearest thing to a smile that his austere features could summon.

“Horst, Horst, come here quickly,” he shouted.

Horst, his indispensable secretary and Mann Freitag [Man Friday] materialised, seemingly out of thin air, at his side.

“What is it sir?” he enquired attentively. “Is there a problem?”

“No, Horst,” responded Klouse, showing more animation than Horst had seen for a long time. “For once there is good news out of that New Zealand place. Kommissar Straßenhändler [Commissioner Costermonger] has finally shown some spirit and destroyed that Freiheitsdorf [Freedom village] outside their Viper’s Nest, or whatever that building is called.

“It was a disgrace to have people actually being allowed to think that we would permit free speech in our glorious new ‘Reset Reich’. How dare they use the word freedom. We have changed the meaning so that it now means, you are free to do whatever we tell you to do!” He paused to wipe some froth off his chin with a large flag-like cloth that he used as a handkerchief. “The good news is that he has adapted the good old Brownshirt, Stasi and Securitate tactics, and attacked his own people, with tear gas, pepper spray, rubber bullets…”

He paused to again employ his large flag to wipe tears of joy from his eyes. “And he forced the Fire Service to give his Stasi access to their hoses to hose the people down. Oh, what exquisite joy! Then he got his Securitate to set the place on fire and blamed the protestors. What a man!”

Overcome with emotion, he sat in his chair for a few moments to recover.

Horst placed a glass of water on Klouse’s desk. “I did see that memo, sir,” he murmured. “I knew you would be pleased with the developments, especially as they attacked the elderly with much vigour, and also pepper-sprayed children. But my favourite touch was when the far-sighted Kommissar showed that he had alerted the local Profascista people to be ready with materials to set new fires and feed the ones the Gestapo had started. They went a bit too far though with the slide. Trevor Dullard loved that slide and he is most upset about the damage, as is Justinda Ardeau.”

Klouse had regained his composure a little and looked up at the mention of Ardeau. “I must say I’m surprised at how well she has handled this,” he said. “It was obviously on her instructions that the Kommissar took these measures. I was amused by the part where she regally toured the grounds and complained about the state of them. Especially as it was that Dullard fellow himself who turned the soil to mud. It shows that her mind-control programming is a great success, as she was not concerned about people at all, just her precious grass and slide. Her priorities are faultless.”

“ Ja, mein Anführer,” responded Horst. “I was a little mystified that many of the Brownshirts had their numbers covered in tape. Perhaps the Ardeau woman took up the Trudern-Castro boy’s offer of some of those UN troops he had left over from his attacks on his own people.”

“Minor details!” snapped Klouse. “Who cares! They did the job, that’s all that matters. I was going to sack Herr Straßenhändler, but I think I’ll keep him on after his success in Wellington. I couldn’t be happier, Horst.”

“Yes sir,” said Horst. “But I can’t help but wonder if he went a little too far.”

“Was meinst du im Namen von Luzifer! [what in the name of Lucifer do you mean!]” barked Klouse. “It’s not possible to go too far with people who defy the ‘Reset Reich’. Explain yourself.”

“It’s just that it seems to me that rather than end the protests, it may perhaps harden the resolve of these people and they may just find new ways to fight back. If they have nothing to lose, then they could be very dangerous.”

“That’s treacherous talk, Horst,” snapped Klouse. “How can such members of the vulgar herd worry us. They are nobodies, suitable only as subjects for our experiments, and to serve as our slaves.” He paused briefly. “Come to think of it, there have been a few worrying signs I’ve noticed lately about you. I thought I heard you humming the tune of “Die Gedanken sind frei”* the other day.” He paused to glower at Horst. “I will talk to your programmer, Horst. This disturbing trend must be reversed.”

“Yes, mein Marionettenmeister [Puppet Master],” replied Horst, looking suitably chagrined.

“Then let us hear no more humming of that verboten tune,” growled Klouse. “Anyway, when I am successful with my mind control and transhumanism experiments, there will be no free thoughts, as we will know exactly what our slaves are thinking and we will prevent forbidden thoughts from forming in their minds. But now is the time to celebrate. Bring me schnapps, and make it schnappy!”

———

* Die Gedanken sind frei is a song which has long been sung in Germany as a protest against tyranny and repression, and was banned for a time. The English title of the song is ‘Thoughts are Free’.

One of the verses says:

Und sperrt man mich ein im finsteren Kerker,

das alles sind rein vergebliche Werke;

denn meine Gedanken zerreißen die Schranken

und Mauern entzwei: die Gedanken sind frei.

[And lock me in a dark dungeon,

All these are purely futile works;

Because my thoughts tear all gates

and walls apart: thoughts are free.]

Link to the song for any who may be interested.