Klaus Hnilica
Thursday March 19th, 2015

Daybreak or Breaking Down Daily

Carl and Gerlinde (XLII)

Oh my God, the alarm clock – 6.15 a.m.!

Hell! Devilish! Inhuman! Those were the words that only slowly found their painfully creeping way to Carl’s warming-up brain cells while the horrible alarm clock kept mercilessly up its gnawing cant…

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Well, thought Carl, it was hardly a surprise that daybreak always seemed like ’Breaking Down Daily’ if we let ourselves be catapulted out of the heavenly state of slumbering peacefully so frightfully early each day into the booming daytime chaos, was it?

To be sure, sometimes – in the face of all this cruelty – we hide under our cosy blankets in order to avoid all this responsibility. Yet the morning nightmare of the sleep abruptly terminated on a daily basis still leaves its footpath in us.

Not to mention this hellish darkness outside, Carl murmured. And these cold temperatures, like ’Catholic Heaven’, which Gerlinde’s icy bedroom was really absolutely a match for. In here, the temperature was never allowed to rise above sixteen degrees Celsius! Otherwise she cannot sleep through the night, is what she repeated like a mantra. And Carl had given up reasoning against it a long time ago. For him, it was pretty clear that Gerlinde must have been at least a ptarmigan or a penguin in her earlier incarnations; there was no other way to explain this low-night-temperature mania! At least not for him – who sold underwear and passionately wore thermal smallclothes!

Small wonder that, under Gerlinde’s polar sleeping rule, he permanently had a red runny nose when, at night, he woke up struggling for survival with his ear-protectors because, again, they had been moving downward, wrapping themselves around his neck and threatening to strangulate him during his slumber. Basically, this was largely due to that fact that he kept rotating around his own axis while he slept – just like the rotating earth, which – in the deathly cosmic cold – lusted after the life-giving warmth of the sun.

Unfortunately, Carl did not find a source of warmth in the sleeping quarters reigned over by Gerlinde. To his left, there was only an energy-saving lamp he never dared to switch on or off at night, because he did not really want his arms to go numb because of hypothermia. And to his right, there was merely the assumption of warmth!

That was the cosily warm Gerlinde. However, lately he had neither seen nor felt anything of her because, like a vixen in her lair, she remained completely hidden under her bedcover, only quickly jumping up at breakfast time with a moan and disappearing in the warm kitchen.

Even worse in this wake-up phase were the assaults by mental bubbles forcing him to think about the workday ahead. Threateningly, they kept inflating inside his brain, regardless of him forcefully keeping his eyes closed even after the ’wake-up shock’: thousands of questions on the business results hammered on his conscience – and on the approaching weekly meeting with flimsy Dr. Osterkorn – and on the Ukraine and the war in that region – and on the ’Islamic Nation’ and its current bloodlust – and on Greece and Europe, along with probable sales drops as a consequence thereof – and on his secretary Bettina and her flu – and on his cardiac fibrillation of two days ago, and so on, and so forth.…

My God – why did he have to let all this nonsense get to him, even before opening his eyes?

Why could he not simply remain under his warm blanket without all those tormenting mental cascades and enjoy the leisure time until Gerlinde, late in the morning, would coax him out of his bed with a pre-warmed dressing gown and a glass of champagne and then lead him to the freshly set table?

Yes – why indeed was that not possible?

Instead, you had to put up with this nightmarish ’wake-up shock’ at daybreak – which, he was sure, caused post-traumatic stress for millions of male and female industrious workhorses and led them right into ruin!

Why was this necessary?
Why?

Had not the French visionary Michel Houellebecq in his “Subjugation” introduced the very promising Plan B in the form of Islamisation of the western society?, thought Carl, before finally turning off this stupid radio alarm clock with a precise karate punch in order to be able to give more thought to the proven advantages of a conversion to Islam for a few more minutes under his warm blanket. …

Mind you, if he wanted this entire concept to make sense and to help patriarchy to re-establish itself in its full power, he would have to recruit quite a number of additional compatriots who are willing to convert: the family would again be the centre of everyone’s life; the man would be the only person in the family who earns money and two or three non-working wives would do everything to not only make the industrious breadwinner happy, but also look after the half dozens of children he would have sired on them.

There would be more than enough work in this converted society, since women would need far less money for their education, stay at home, not take away jobs and – thanks to Arabian money sources – the working men would also be supplied with fair incomes; which means that, after work, they could enjoy and let themselves be pampered by their rested wives at leisure. And they would not have to fear that, on the next morning as day dawns, they would already again be forced to leave their cosy sleeping places by western-decadent radio alarm clocks.

“Certainly”, Carl muttered, spontaneously deciding not to get up and instead take a day off and continue with his slumbers. Like this, he would at least get the hint of an idea of what was going happen to him – and his country – and the EU – in the form of the New Islamic Patriarchy. …

However, he was not yet quite sure if his Gerlinde was going to really immediately fully appreciate how well-off women were going to be in this transformed society. Perhaps he would have to come to her aid with a few social-theoretical concepts. And the veil question was also unsolved! He could only hope that he would not have to run around with a face mask, too – like Batman!

In the name of Allah – and if perhaps she, out of falsely interpreted equal-opportunity mania, would also demand three men for herself, then the patriarch paradise would be over sooner than he could look! Besides – how should all these ’physically active’ people find room in his small house? The least that would happen was all of them stepping on each other’s toes – if not on other body parts, as well.

It was truly annoying with these recalcitrant women! Truly annoying! They were absolutely capable of spoiling paradise. He was sure the prophet would also have a hard life with them……

KH
(Translated by EG)

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