About Social Forestry from afar. Part II. Court. Part 1

2024 Author: Seth Attwood | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 15:55

When I woke up, I realized that I was lying on my back on a hard surface, some sounds were enveloping me from different sides, but so far I could not divide this background noise into semantic elements. The head buzzed at first, but gradually returned to normal. So I began to see that I was lying in a narrow corridor, and its walls go so high up that the ceiling is completely invisible, if there is one at all.

Raising myself, I saw that the corridor was very long, and along it, every few meters on both sides, doors were installed with signs attached to them. Incomprehensible sounds emanated from each door: from one stronger, from the other weaker, but it was still absolutely impossible to make out them. Looking back, I saw that the corridor also goes into infinity behind my back, and in the same way it is all littered with doors. In other words, I was somewhere, so to speak, in the middle of an endless corridor on both sides with an infinite number of evenly spaced doors. Above each door was a small flickering lamp that illuminated the door underneath and the small space around it with an elliptical spot of light. These lamps also created sufficient lighting for viewing the corridor. In the meantime, the head already stopped hurting, and the sounds became more distinct.

"Bring in the sausage …" - I heard more or less clearly from the door on the right as I got to my feet. "Pour palm oil in his mouth …" - I heard on the left. Scraps of the words "scissors" and "start cutting with …" were then drowned out by a terrible cry of horror on a rather high note. On the door from which this scream came, it read "Pop Star." The scream was somewhat frightening, but I was not yet awake enough to fully realize what was happening. The cry quickly stopped and switched to a quiet sobbing, and my gaze, in search of clues, accidentally fell on a sign to the right of this door: "Unscrupulous traffic police inspector." Quickly realizing that if my guess is correct, then there will be a discussion of the situation on the roads, I came closer to this door. "Bring in the wand with winter thorns," came a strong and commanding voice. Footsteps were heard, someone, apparently, brought the rod into the room. “Why is there no sticker with the letter“Ш”in the red triangle ?!”, the same voice was indignant, “how are you going to insert a rod for him without a sticker…”. I ran away from the door, because I finally understood where I was, and the fate of the comrade inspector seemed too harsh to me.

Moving further along the corridor, I tried not to linger at other people's doors, because I already understood that now I had to quickly find my own. Nevertheless, random phrases still reached me, and my eyes mechanically clung to the signs. There was a “Vegan” sign and the same imperious voice said: “Didn't you know that your favorite gummy bears are made from pork skin? Lipstick is made from dog fat and is used to make your favorite soap … Wow, your boots are made of genuine leather, and the belt on your trousers too. " I walked on, on the next door on the plate it was written: "BTG inventors", I immediately remembered about a whole army of scammers spreading the ideas of fuel-free generators (BTG) or fake inventions with a superunit effect (which have an efficiency of more than 100%). “Close him in a winter basement and give his own invention, which feeds on himself, into his hands, let him warm himself,” the sentence sounded, followed by a heavy blow, as if with a blacksmith's hammer on a hard and dense surface.

Thoughts flew rapidly in my head, I even began to understand well why in this Court the doors were deliberately made sound-permeable, and I myself appeared far from my door. Indeed, even if you run, the distance between the doors is such that you will still hear others being sentenced … why? Because there was a time when I needed all this: I myself thirsted for justice so passionately that it was absolutely necessary for me to KNOW and SEE how others get what they deserve for their atrocities. I gloated every time I saw firsthand the result of negative feedback on a person whom I ONLY warned about how his malicious intent would end for him. “I told you so,” was one of my favorite phrases that ended any debriefing meeting. Then a slight smile and a barely perceptible bow; reversal - and goodbye. What did I do then? And then the same thing that everyone has: the same everyday life with the same set of primitive pleasures and entertainment … hearing now the sentences from the doors sweeping past me, with each blow of the judge's hammer I was more and more immersed in a feeling of complete shame for my life. I realized that I was running. I WOULD like to quickly find my door and hide from the blows that hit me as hard as people, many of whom I did not even know personally. “Well, you wanted it - you got it,” I heard my own words in my own head, “you know this rule and you yourself have dedicated a dozen publications to its description, why are you running now?”

The speed increased, but there was no fatigue, fifteen years of hard training - it's not like pissing into sneakers. Nevertheless, even at this speed, snatches of the judge's speech and hammer blows from time to time reached me, and the signs on the doors were clearly distinguishable, the brain worked surprisingly quickly and clearly.

“Marketers”: “This eco-friendly brick does not contain GMOs and is made from natural ingredients. You will get two hits on the action with such a brick instead of one. Do you have a discount card?"

Alternative Medicine: How do you say? Does the energetic ethereal vortex draw energy from space and heal wounds at the point of application? Let's check on you … where are the nails?"

"Psychics": "Blindfold him and release the crocodiles …".

"Corrupt officials and other thieves in power": "Take everything nafig and send it back to Earth in beggarly conditions, constantly take away everything acquired throughout life, but so that the local officials" flood "their ears with stories about the need for hard work to achieve success ".

“Commoners complaining about power”: “Give power and send back for the Earth. Then everyone should be imprisoned for exceeding their official powers, and the most honest to be forced from morning till night to fight with the stupidity of the same ordinary people who spoil everything and shit everywhere, complaining about the authorities."

"Greedy": "Collect everyone in one group - and to the Earth, to some kind of reservation. Not to let out of the reservation, not to give anything, let them feel the feedback from greed."

“Self-proclaimed: magicians, spiritual teachers and other riffraffs”: “Give this one a shovel and a pick, appoint the manager of a brigade of miners, let him show his spiritual qualities and ability to manage in practice. Throw this into the flock of the sect named ….

"Cattle drivers": "This should be returned back as a traffic police inspector, and this should be done as a truck driver …".

Drunkards: “This one is brought back to earth as the leader of the sobriety movement. And to this one pour a barrel of alcohol into his mouth ….

"Officials": "Give out a broom, appoint a janitor, will serve those courtyards for the cleanliness and order in which he was responsible in this life. Give another the post of mayor, just let him work in the place of those whom you scolded. The third should be sent to play the role of a stupid man in the street complaining about the authorities."

I ran further and further, I don't remember how long it lasted, but the number of sentences I heard was simply enormous, but all of them were somehow familiar to me … all of these were MY thoughts, what I sometimes imagined on Earth, when he communicated with representatives of absolutely all those categories of people to whom the remaining doors were dedicated. At the fifth hundred doors, I stopped counting, the distance covered was almost one and a half times higher than that at which I could allow such a high running speed, and therefore my legs were tired, my heart jumped out of my chest, breathing became too fast - and I switched to a step. In time.

On the right, between the two doors with the inscriptions "The authors of all the graphomaniac dregs" and "Those who consider themselves sociologists," there was a sign "Social Forestry" that was no different from the others. Exactly a minute later, I completely recovered my breath and lowered my pulse to safe values, after which I took a step forward, grabbed the door handle, gently turned it and pulled it towards myself. Then, without much hesitation, but collecting his whole body, he took another step.