malisa pusonja @malisapusonja - Twitter Profile

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6 days ago

I am the real Lord Greystoke, not some other fellow. My earliest years were spent among monkeys. Not ordinary monkeys, naturally. The tribe that adopted me debated metaphysics, maintained oral histories stretching back thousands of years, and possessed a surprisingly sophisticated understanding of personal freedom. It was from them that I first learned who I really was. One evening, after a discussion concerning the immortality of the soul and the proper way to steal figs from neighboring villages, the eldest among them informed me that I was not, in fact, a monkey. This came as something of a surprise. He then revealed that I was Lord Greystoke. The monkeys, however, were patient. For several years they continued presenting evidence. Eventually I conceded the point. The years that followed were devoted to travel. Not tourism. Travel. There is a difference. At thirteen I spent a winter among fishermen who believed Plato had secretly been a sailor. At fifteen I crossed a mountain range in the company of a man who claimed to be the last surviving Neoplatonist. At seventeen I lived for several months in a monastery whose inhabitants communicated almost entirely through irony. I never discovered whether they were saints or lunatics. Perhaps both. One summer I learned astronomy from shepherds. Another I learned history from smugglers. A retired sea captain taught me ethics. A blind librarian taught me geography. An old woman selling figs beside a ruined road taught me more about human nature than anyone before or since. All of this occupied roughly four months. The remainder of my education consisted primarily of forgetting what I thought I had learned. Quite against my wishes, I once found myself elected to a parliament. The nation in question had become entangled in endless bureaucracy, ideological quarrels, and an unhealthy fascination with committees. Fortunately, I had recently spent several years observing monkey society. The solution therefore proved obvious. I abolished seven ministries, dissolved forty-three committees, simplified the tax code to a single page, and replaced three hundred pages of regulations with the instruction: “Try not to be ridiculous.” Order was restored almost immediately. There was also a brief period during which I discovered three lost cities, reconciled two feuding dynasties, translated a forgotten language, recovered a sacred relic, solved an ancient philosophical controversy, and accidentally became emperor of a minor Balkan kingdom. As for the rest, I have lived quietly enough. But, perhaps you think I am not the Lord Greystoke. Perhaps you think I'm that other fellow, who you think you know, the guy who lives in Belgrade and does some IT stuff. That's merely my double. I remain loyal to the one raised by monkeys. “Which of us has a claim on the memories of generations yet unborn? For anyone who believes in and cherishes the spiritual worth of flesh-and-blood human beings, and who wishes to resist the empire of the virtual that seems intent upon consuming our world, no other choice is possible." Not he—not the fellow from Belgrade who does some IT stuff—but rather I: the orphan raised by monkeys, the reluctant parliamentarian, the wanderer of forgotten roads, the accidental emperor, and all the other dreary things that compose the lusterless fabric of my life. "That is the one who must endure, the one whom my name must conjure up in the minds of others. It is not only my reputation that is at stake, but rather the dignity of all of us as living souls. In the end, it is my double who must be borne away and who must vanish, while only I, in all the indigence of my finite nature, can remain. And so may it happen for all of you as well."

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malisa pusonja

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