Billy

Ingen behöver oss som blir över, ingen behöver oss som blir över!

- Barnen i filmen Sopor av Tage Danielsson



En gång gick jag på kyrkokaffet efter studentgudstjänsten i Bergen. Mitt emot mig satte sig en äldre ungdom, kanske 35 - 40 år. Det var tydligt att han inte var student. På hans uppsvällda händer och hans ansikte kunde man lätt se att han var eller hade varit narkoman även innan han sagt något. När man levt i Bergen ett tag så är det inte en ovanlig syn, det har hänt mig mer än en gång att jag mitt i folkmyllret en vacker lördag sett drogmissbrukare med halvöppna ögon sakta stappla sig fram på huvudgågatan samtidigt som folk zick zackar sig fram runt dem.

Han börjar prata och även rösten släpar lite. Jag tror inte att det är för att han är under påverkan där och då, men när jag tittar in i hans pupiller är de väldigt stora. Har kroppen en sådan varaktig verkan? Hans tanke verkar åtminstone klar även när den döljs under den släpande rösten. Han har tänkt mycket i sitt liv och han börjar berätta en del om den vandring han har gjort. Hur han redan som 12-åring började missbruka. Då var det en form av rengöringsmedel för kaffebryggare men saker trappades ju upp. Det brukar ju vara så. Uppvuxen i Danmark fast med norska föräldrar. När han började närma sig myndighet så åkte han iväg. Precis som Billy så blev det ner mot Europa. Både Berlin och Amsterdam. Det var narkotika och det var övergivna tågvagnar. Han var en ensam vandrare, ensam med sina tankar. I korta möten med andra människor som drev omkring. Han kunde inte hantera ondskan i världen, det var så han beskrev det. Den gick inte att stänga ute, och försökte begå självmord mer än en gång. Vid ett tillfälle var han död. Han lyckades dränka sig, men han kom tillbaka. Läkarna fick honom tillbaka.

Men det var ingen bruten man som satt mitt emot mig, tvärtom verkade han ha funnit en frid med världen; även dess ondska. Han var tacksam och lycklig att han fortfarande fanns. Nu satt han där på caféet drickandes den ena koppen kaffe efter den andra. Jag gillar att vara här sa han, här är alla välkomna. När det slutar vara så kommer jag sluta komma sa han. Sedan berömmer han prästen som inte är där, han berömmer han för hans förmåga att engagera och att lyssna.

Vi kom bra överens han och jag. Det slår mig att vi inte var så annorlunda. Livet har förvisso dragit oss åt olika håll, men i grunden är vi båda människor som simmar i denna tillvaro vars strömmar vi inte alltid kan styra. Han har blivit mitt ansikte för narkotikamissbruk. Det är ingen dålig ting, han representerar hopp för mig. Han representerar för mig hopp för alla andra ungdomar som samlar sig i små klungor runt rhododendronbruskarna i nygårdsparken. Även för det djupt ansatte finns möjligheten att finna frid.

En sekulär stat

Democratic thought's starting point is of course the idea of the sovereignity of the people. So long as power finds its legitimacy in tradition, right of conquest, or the will of God, democracy is unthinkable; democracy becomes possible only when the holders of power are regarded as representatives of the people. They are responsible for implementing the decisions of the people, and the people alone hold sovereignity.

- Alain Tourraine, What is Democracy?

Laissez-moi tranquille, laissez-moi faire

Inom laissez-faire liberalismen finns det en intressant tankefigur. Man önskar att staten skall skruvas ner till ett direkt minimum. Genom att släppa våra plikter mot staten ges vi istället själva ett spelrum att verka gott i samhället med de pengar vi har. Det är, skulle jag tro enligt vissa, en höjden av demokrati eftersom individen då har frigjorts. Den grundpelare som staten skulle fortsätta garantera är lag och ordning via ett polisväsende. Och äganderätten förstås. Det intressanta med tankefiguren är att en sådan ordning på saker och ting skulle ju i det närmaste onödigförklara allmäna val, eftersom den regering man röstat fram inte skulle haft en statsapparat att styra över. En sådan ordning skulle varit ett avskaffande av demokrati så vi känner den idag. På gott och ont kanske?

The Stonecutter

There was once a stonecutter. who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day, he passed a wealthy merchant's house, and through the open gateway, saw many fine possessions and important visitors. "How powerful the merchant must be!" thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then he would no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter. 

To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. "How powerful that official is!" he thought. "I wish I could be a high official!" 

Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day, and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. "How powerful the sun is!" he thought. "I wish I could be the sun!" 

Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. "How powerful that storm cloud is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a cloud!" 

The he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. "How powerful it is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be the wind!" 

Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it - a huge, towering stone. "How powerful that stone is!" he thought. I wish that I could be a stone!" 

Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock, and felt himself being changed. "What could be more powerful than I, the stone?" he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.

- Chinese story of The Stonecutter (Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh)

Busy, Back Soon

It's not surprising, therefore, that the Backson thinks of progress in terms of fighting and overcoming. One of his little idiosyncrasies, you might say. Of course, real progress involves growing and developing, which involves changing inside, but that's something the inflexible Backson is unwilling to do. The urge to grow and develop, present in all forms of life, becomes perverted in the Bisy Backson's mind into a constant struggle to change everything (the Bulldozer Backson) and everyone (the Bigoted Backson) else but himself, and interfere with things he has no business interfering with, including practically every form of life on earth. At least to a limited extent, his behavior has been held in check by wiser people around him. But, like parents with hyperactive children, the wise find that they can't be everywhere at once. Baby-sitting the Backsons wears you out.

- Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

Anställningsansökan

While sitting on the banks of the P'u River, Chuang-tse was approached by two representatives of the Prince of Ch'u, who offered him a position at court. Chaung-tse watched the water flowing by as if he had not heard. Finally, he remarked, "I am told that the Prince has a sacred tortoise, over two thousands years old, which is kept in a box, wrapped in silk and brocade." "That is true," the officials replied. "If the tortoise had been given a choice," Chuang-tse continued, "which do you think he would have liked better - to have been alive in the mud, or dead within the palace?" "To have been alive in the mud, of course," the men answered. "I too prefer the mud," said Chuang-tse. "Good-bye."

- Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

A Crooked Tree

Hui-tse said to Chuang-tse, "I have a large tree which no carpenter can cut into lumber. Its branches and trunk are crooked and tough, covered with bumps and depressions. No builder would turn his head to look at it. Your teachings are the same - useless, without value. Therefore, no one paus attention to them."

"As you know," Chuang-tse replied, "a cat is very skilled at capturing its prey. Crouching low, it can leap in any direction, pursuing whatever it is after. But when it is focused on such things it can be easily caught with a net. On the other hand, a huge yak is not easily caught or overcome. It stands lika a stone, or a cloud in the sky. But for all its strength, it cannot catch a mouse.

"You complain that your tree is not valuableas lumber. But you could make use of the shade it provides, rest under its sheltering branches, and stroll beneath it, admiring its character and appearance. Since it would not be endangered by an axe, what could threaten its existence? It is useless to you only because you want to make it into something else and do not use it in its proper way."

- Chuang-tse, översatt och del av The Tao of Pooh.