Instead of focusing on surviving off grubs and hiding in filth we need to prevent this from happening. We are wasting our time even thinking about this stuff when it could all be prevented in the first place. The irony of the post is actually depressing: we should focus on raising a quiet duck that we can easily slaughter and butcher... It would be nice to see survival sites band together and at the very least conduct GamerGate type actions and fight the idiots ruining our lives. Maybe these things have already happened and I just missed them.“In our movement to cut off the tail of Capitalism we have achieved great victories,” he announced, “but there are still many problems. The situation is especially grave in the Number Nine Production Team.” He paused, and looked around for emphasis. Then he bellowed, “Guo Lao-da’s ducks are an example of rotten Capitalism!” He paused again. “Guo Lao-da, stand up and ask Chairman Mao for forgiveness!”
Guo Lao-da had been sitting in the front row. Now he got slowly to his feet. He looked big and gawky up there in front of everyone, but his rage gave him a strange kind of grace. “What makes you think your cock is any bigger than anyone else’s?” he shouted in his thick regional dialect. “If I’m going to kowtow, I’ll kowtow. But it’s to Chairman Mao, not to you!” And in a flash, before I had time to decipher his words, he was down on all fours in front of the posters, knocking his head on the earthen floor with three loud thumps that could be heard all over the room.
We all had to laugh. He had stood up to the brigade leader so bravely, but he looked so foolish down there on the ground. Old Li was furious. “Guo Lao-da! Don’t think it’s over just because you kowtowed! If you don’t kill those ducks tonight, we’ll bring your case to the entire commune!”
I never dreamed that this uneducated peasant could render a Party Secretary speechless, but he did. “Do you know whose ducks these are?” he demanded, shaking his finger. “These ducks are ……. Chairman Mao’s ducks. One is for Old Liang, to repay a debt to him. But I’m sending the other five to Peking for Chairman Mao to eat. And whoever is crazy enough to try to kill my ducks, well, he’s the one opposing Chairman Mao!”
We roared again with laughter. This was better than a comic performance. The brigade leader was absolutely helpless. Finally he said “If we can’t settle this matter tonight, we’ll settle it soon enough!” But as the peasants filed out of the meeting room I heard him mutter to Father, “Old Liang, this business. I’ll put you in charge of it.” It was his admission of defeat.
Father and Auntie Zhu were about to go to bed when Guo Lao-da came to our house, a changed man. The bravado was all gone. “Old Liang,” he said, his voice deeply troubled. “What shall I do? My ducks have supported me my whole life. Do they want us to starve to death to fight Capitalism?”
“Hush,” whispered Father. “They could blow out your brains for saying less.” Then he spoke softly with him until the fire burned down very low. I was already asleep in the kitchen when Guo Lao-da went out to kill his ducks.
Lian Heng and Judith Shapiro, Son of the Revolution (New York: Vintage Books 1984), 184-185.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Shut the Duck Up!
This post is not so bad so far as they go, but I can tell you from experience this plan would be very difficult. I used to have a huge garden. I did everything without any modern tools. I have also raised a lot of ducks (granted, not Muscovy). I hate to sound like these guys, but just thinking about all this makes me tired. Having to do it in a survival situation would suck and I would not be confident about survival. Look, at the end of the day, this is what we are facing: