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The Thanatos Syndrome

The Thanatos Syndrome

Titel: The Thanatos Syndrome Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Walker Percy
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physician.
    But his remarks, though desultory and disconnected, are uttered in a calm, serious voice. During the pauses he seems to sink into thought.
    â€œThe Great Prince Satan, the Depriver, is here.”
    Pause.
    â€œIt is not your fault that he, the Great Prince, is here. But you must resist him.”
    Pause.
    â€œI hope you know what you are doing here,” he says.
    Pause.
    â€œThe fellows at Fedville know what they were doing.”
    Pause.
    The audience is trying to figure out whether the pauses are calculated, as some preachers will pause, even for long pauses, for purposes of emphasis. They listen intently, heads inclined, with even a tentative nod or two.
    â€œTrue, they were getting rid of people, but they were people nobody wanted to bother with.”
    Pause.
    â€œOld, young. Born, unborn.”
    Pause.
    â€œBut they, the doctors, were good fellows and they had their reasons.
    â€œThe reasons were quite plausible.
    â€œI observed some of you.
    â€œBut do you know what you are doing?
    â€œI observe a benevolent feeling here.
    â€œThere is also tenderness.
    â€œAt the bedside of some children this morning I observed you shed tears. On television.
    â€œDo you know where tenderness leads?”
    Pause.
    â€œTenderness leads to the gas chamber.”
    Pause.
    â€œThis is the feast day of my patron saint, Simeon the Stylite.
    â€œSimeon lived atop a pillar forty feet high and six feet in diameter for twenty years.
    â€œHe mortified himself and prayed for the forgiveness of his sins and the sins of the world below him, which was particularly wicked, being mainly occupied by the Great Prince Satan.
    â€œI don’t see any sinners here.
    â€œEveryone looks justified. No guilt here!
    â€œSimeon came down to perform good works when his bishop asked him to, but when the bishop saw he was willing, he let him go back up.
    â€œI’d rather be back up in the tower, but I do know what I’m doing here.
    â€œDo you think it is for the love of God, like Simeon? I am sorry to say it is not.
    â€œI like to talk to the patients here.
    â€œChildren and dying people do not lie.
    â€œOne need not lie to them.
    â€œEveryone else lies.
    â€œLook at you. Not a sinner in sight.
    â€œNo guilt here!
    â€œThe Great Prince has pulled off his masterpiece.
    â€œThese are strange times. There are now two kinds of people.
    â€œThis has never happened before.
    â€œOne are decent, tenderhearted, unbelieving, philanthropic people.
    â€œThe other are some preachers who tell the truth about the Lord but are themselves often rascals if not thieves.”
    During one of the pauses Chandra and the NewsTeam-7 crew turn off their lights, fold their cameras, and quietly creep out.
    â€œWhat a generation! Believing thieves and decent unbelievers!
    â€œThe Great Depriver’s finest hour!
    â€œNot a guilty face here!
    â€œEveryone here is creaming in his drawers from tenderness!”
    Long pause.
    â€œBut beware, tender hearts!
    â€œDon’t you know where tenderness leads?” Silence. “To the gas chambers.
    â€œNever in the history of the world have there been so many civilized tenderhearted souls as have lived in this century.
    â€œNever in the history of the world have so many people been killed.
    â€œMore people have been killed in this century by tenderhearted souls than by cruel barbarians in all other centuries put together.”
    Pause.
    â€œMy brothers, let me tell you where tenderness leads.”
    A longer pause.
    â€œTo the gas chambers! On with the jets!
    â€œListen to me, dear physicians, dear brothers, dear Qualitarians, abortionists, euthanasists! Do you know why you are going to listen to me? Because every last one of you is a better man than I and you know it! And yet you like me. Every last one of you knows me and what I am, a failed priest, an old drunk, who is only fit to do one thing and to tell you one thing. You are good, kind, hardworking doctors, but you like me nevertheless and I know that you will allow me to tell you one thing—no, ask one thing—no, beg one thing of you. Please do this one favor for me, dear doctors. If you have a patient, young or old, suffering, dying, afflicted, useless, born or unborn, whom you for the best of reasons wish to put out of his misery—I beg only one thing of you, dear doctors! Please send him to us. Don’t kill them! We’ll take them—all of them!

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