jcmsir
Onlooker
Delivered by the Procurator of Public Protection for the Republic of Northumbria, Dr Norman Laws.
Good evening. It is good to see nearly one hundred would be lawyers gathered here today. Forty years ago I left this university, and lived through times you do not need to imagine because they are so clearly recorded in our histories.
I mention this to help you understand that the books which I read when I was here, the books in the back areas of the library, may not help you as much as you wish. That past, literally, is a different country. The coastline that existed when I was sitting in the seats you occupy has been changed utterly by the hockey stick shift in sea levels triggered by the Greenland Glacial Disaster.
My job, as procurator, is to enlist you, the future lawyers of this and other republics, in the project of making a decent society and a decent life possible.
I’ve heard the muttering. I’ve read the graffiti. I am the crucifier in chief. In truth, I can’t deny that title. The world out there, the republic that feeds and clothes you, chose crucifixion. I make it happen, lawfully, and in accordance with those democratic decisions.
Like all of you, I walked into this building past the tapestry of Emily Goodman. Emily was crucified in 2045. She is a heroine to those who will, no matter what, reject the democratic decision on crucifixion, but she is also a heroine to my staff.
Let me explain that dichotomy. Emily was opposed to crucifixion. She knew what lay in front of her. Crucifixion in those days was a carnival of bestiality. When Emily was convicted of terrorism, she was dragged out of the old Assize court at Elvet. On the cobbles in front of the court she was raped successively by her accusers, then she was sodomized by whoever wanted her. In those moments she became a heroine to the physical punishment community. Rather than collapse, or cry, she pushed back at her rapists, challenged them to make her come. When they succeeded, all the audience knew, as she cried, and screamed and begged for more, asserting that she was as strong as the system that would break her. Even the dogs could not subdue her. She taught us a lesson about what drives the Emily Goodmans of this world. The very definition of heroism is embracing what lies in front of you, fearlessly, but we cannot step aside from the possibility that by delivering that which is foreseen, which is inevitable, we are merely the agents of the desires that define our customers.
We tell our clients about Emily. It took her three days to die on the cross. She came repeatedly. We gave her fluids, contrary to normal practice. We salved her secondary wounds, and drove away the crows. By the time she closed her eyes, and gave way to the pain, we owned Emily, and loved her as if she was one of us.
Let me give you all a clue.
If you try to be Emily, you will fail. If you aspire to martyrdom, we will break you. I am the crucifier in chief, and my job is to protect the state from the terror that washed around us, as Emily defied us from the tree she was nailed to. Another day of her orgasmic victories, and the people might have torn down her tree and placed her on a throne.
If any of you choose that route, rest assured. On my watch, 24 hours is the limit. We will always win.
Now, let's get back to basics. The three D’s, that define all physical punishment, Defilement, Disfigurement and Display.
That’s what we do for a living. A judge, or a magistrate, or a suitably trained street officer decides on a punishment, and we deliver.
We deliver to the standards of the three D’s. We defile you, we disfigure you, even if only temporarily, and we display you.
Your job as lawyers will be to understand these rules, and to help your clients cope with them. Your role, as government lawyers, will be to seek to apply these laws fairly.
You, help me. [The lecturer points at a young woman in the front row. She is pale faced, her pallor as lifeless as the grey pinafore dress she wears over the rainbow blouse affected by students who have neither gender nor sexual preferences. He directs her to stand next to him, her fist clenched, her little finger extended, He produces a square shaped knife from his bag, along with a thich, round, mallt, and a wooden rod slightly larger than her finger.]
Our job is to do these things cleanly, to turn out clients who know something more about where they are destined for, and how they choose to be obedient. Let me show you.
[From a bag he produces a square bladed knife, a wooden rod the size of a small finger, and a mallet. He positions the rod next to the student’s finger, then rests the knife blade on the rod so that it brushes the very tip of her finger.]
Do you believe I will miss? Do you believe I will harm her who has done no harm? Watch.
[He swings the mallet up into the air, and brings it down with a crash on the wooden rod. The splintered wood flies around the room.]
Pause, and think about what I just did. Look at your fellow student, quaking in her chair.
Pause and think. You have more to learn.
Good evening. It is good to see nearly one hundred would be lawyers gathered here today. Forty years ago I left this university, and lived through times you do not need to imagine because they are so clearly recorded in our histories.
I mention this to help you understand that the books which I read when I was here, the books in the back areas of the library, may not help you as much as you wish. That past, literally, is a different country. The coastline that existed when I was sitting in the seats you occupy has been changed utterly by the hockey stick shift in sea levels triggered by the Greenland Glacial Disaster.
My job, as procurator, is to enlist you, the future lawyers of this and other republics, in the project of making a decent society and a decent life possible.
I’ve heard the muttering. I’ve read the graffiti. I am the crucifier in chief. In truth, I can’t deny that title. The world out there, the republic that feeds and clothes you, chose crucifixion. I make it happen, lawfully, and in accordance with those democratic decisions.
Like all of you, I walked into this building past the tapestry of Emily Goodman. Emily was crucified in 2045. She is a heroine to those who will, no matter what, reject the democratic decision on crucifixion, but she is also a heroine to my staff.
Let me explain that dichotomy. Emily was opposed to crucifixion. She knew what lay in front of her. Crucifixion in those days was a carnival of bestiality. When Emily was convicted of terrorism, she was dragged out of the old Assize court at Elvet. On the cobbles in front of the court she was raped successively by her accusers, then she was sodomized by whoever wanted her. In those moments she became a heroine to the physical punishment community. Rather than collapse, or cry, she pushed back at her rapists, challenged them to make her come. When they succeeded, all the audience knew, as she cried, and screamed and begged for more, asserting that she was as strong as the system that would break her. Even the dogs could not subdue her. She taught us a lesson about what drives the Emily Goodmans of this world. The very definition of heroism is embracing what lies in front of you, fearlessly, but we cannot step aside from the possibility that by delivering that which is foreseen, which is inevitable, we are merely the agents of the desires that define our customers.
We tell our clients about Emily. It took her three days to die on the cross. She came repeatedly. We gave her fluids, contrary to normal practice. We salved her secondary wounds, and drove away the crows. By the time she closed her eyes, and gave way to the pain, we owned Emily, and loved her as if she was one of us.
Let me give you all a clue.
If you try to be Emily, you will fail. If you aspire to martyrdom, we will break you. I am the crucifier in chief, and my job is to protect the state from the terror that washed around us, as Emily defied us from the tree she was nailed to. Another day of her orgasmic victories, and the people might have torn down her tree and placed her on a throne.
If any of you choose that route, rest assured. On my watch, 24 hours is the limit. We will always win.
Now, let's get back to basics. The three D’s, that define all physical punishment, Defilement, Disfigurement and Display.
That’s what we do for a living. A judge, or a magistrate, or a suitably trained street officer decides on a punishment, and we deliver.
We deliver to the standards of the three D’s. We defile you, we disfigure you, even if only temporarily, and we display you.
Your job as lawyers will be to understand these rules, and to help your clients cope with them. Your role, as government lawyers, will be to seek to apply these laws fairly.
You, help me. [The lecturer points at a young woman in the front row. She is pale faced, her pallor as lifeless as the grey pinafore dress she wears over the rainbow blouse affected by students who have neither gender nor sexual preferences. He directs her to stand next to him, her fist clenched, her little finger extended, He produces a square shaped knife from his bag, along with a thich, round, mallt, and a wooden rod slightly larger than her finger.]
Our job is to do these things cleanly, to turn out clients who know something more about where they are destined for, and how they choose to be obedient. Let me show you.
[From a bag he produces a square bladed knife, a wooden rod the size of a small finger, and a mallet. He positions the rod next to the student’s finger, then rests the knife blade on the rod so that it brushes the very tip of her finger.]
Do you believe I will miss? Do you believe I will harm her who has done no harm? Watch.
[He swings the mallet up into the air, and brings it down with a crash on the wooden rod. The splintered wood flies around the room.]
Pause, and think about what I just did. Look at your fellow student, quaking in her chair.
Pause and think. You have more to learn.