Somebody I used to know said to me that I had a fire that most people lose pretty quickly. It's true, I guess. (There's a fiery statement right there.) It is true. I'm a creature of extremes. I'm not hot and cold, in general I'm mellow to a fault, nigh impossible to piss off. Lost the knack for getting angry a long time ago, as most of you know. But I will admit to being an emotional rollercoaster, to use a vile phrase that has been repeatedly applied to me. It's easy to make me laugh, almost easier to make me cry. When I get interested, I get obsessed. My mind never shuts up--my mouth shuts up almost as little. So... fire? You could say that.
I mention it because for a long time I thought that fire came from rebellion. I sincerely feared, when I moved out of my parents' house and was no longer under anyone's direct control, that I might lose my passion through having nothing to struggle against. It hasn't happened, and I don't think it will. However, through the last few days' explorations of the twisted psyche of one Procell Bouchard--the details of which I will spare those of you who tend to zone off when I talk about such things-- I've started thinking a good bit about the other effects of repression.
Now I don't mean to make any overblown "pity-me" statements about my own childhood. It wasn't always fun, but whose is. And hell, it made me what I am, and we all know how well that turned out. But I think most children, when they enter that "difficult" stage (she said in a tone reminiscent of a P.T.A. meeting) turn inward to a greater or lesser extent, depending on their upbringing. From the Campbells family all the way down to my bloody-handed enslaved Xoran, I've been thinking about how the mind reacts to assault. What happens to your creativity, ingenuity, individuality, emotions, rebellion, when all of these things do nothing for you but give someone a reason to do you the harm they were going to do anyway? How does a country, even a city, maintain its identity when occupied? How do you survive intact?
I don't know. I don't know if anyone does. Me, I'm fine, by and large, but certainly not unchanged. And for me it has to do with the way I dealt with it.
Those in a position where they have little to no control quickly learn that direct, brazen opposition is insanity. The only people who can gain from such rebellion are those with nothing to lose, and almost no one can (boast?) claim that.
Me, I'm Thailand.

Seriously considered just leaving that one, but I can't resist expounding. For those of you who think I'm too longwinded (you know who you are. And so do I. *peer*), this is where you should get off. The door's over there. Mind the gap.
Everybody out? Alright, on with the train wreck.
I'm no history expert, so some of my facts may be a little off here, but it's no biggie. The broad strokes are right. China's pretty expansionist, right? Always has been. Tibet's still in a fair bit of trouble, there was a time when Southeast Asia was looking tasty to them too. The Chinese have this deadly efficient method for subduing a rebellious conqueree: brain-drain. Take all the intellectuals, teachers, artists, astronomers, scientists, and lock 'em in camps. If I'm not greviously mistaken, Pinochet did a version of the same in Chile not so long ago. It's extremely effective.
That's basically what happened to Laos, as I understand it, the last time China decided it wanted it. But then China went for Thailand, and Thailand did a strange thing. Instead of rebelling, instead of resisting, Thailand... gave in. Surrendered. Threw open all their locks, dropped all their weapons and let the Chinese in. The rest of Southeast Asia and much of the world decried them for it, but when the Chinese didn't have to fight to keep the Tai in check, they basically left them alone. Laos resisted, fought--and was crushed, beheaded. Thailand completely gave up--but the Chinese therefore didn't think the Tai required subduing, and the Tai culture remained. When the Chinese eventually loosened their grip, the Tai were still Tai.
So I'm Thailand. That's how I deal with control. When you're in a situation where the other guy has all the guns, fighting is a really fast way of losing your shirt. And everything else you've got, including your identity. But giving in, even though it may look (and feel) like apostasy, and it does, and it doesn't feel good--even so, you can keep one small part of yourself locked away, somewhere in your mind, your "Holy City" as it were, where you allow no trespassers or foreigners, and consider the rest occupied territory. When the waters roll back, to mix my metaphors, you will have retained your most precious things.

How do you deal with being ruled? Being controlled? How do you maintain your passions, your individual fire, when constantly under attack from people who have every advantage? When your only home is a continuous battlefield, how do you keep your treasures from being looted?
I'm in the mood for talking tonight. Let me hear your thoughts, my friends in the ether, whisper in my ears.

Labels: Introspection, Rants