Chistes y humor machistas, sexo, matrimonios, trabajo, colegio Como usted ve, consta de tres partes. Entre los cajones, oscilaba sobre una cinta de acero la Rastra. Yo he sido designado juez de la colonia penitenciaria.
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Shelves: favorites The injustice of the procedure and inhumanity of the execution were incontestable The very last words of In the Penal Colony move across my bewildered eyes, sitting in the Kafkaesque corner of my apartment, I feel numb since words refuse to come to my observant mind, the comatose feeling blinds my consciousness which fails to pick up words from cerebral saucepan.
The prophetic fable of Kafka is full of Kafkaesque elements which would provide eerie dizzying delight to his fans. Set in a remote The injustice of the procedure and inhumanity of the execution were incontestable The very last words of In the Penal Colony move across my bewildered eyes, sitting in the Kafkaesque corner of my apartment, I feel numb since words refuse to come to my observant mind, the comatose feeling blinds my consciousness which fails to pick up words from cerebral saucepan.
The fundamental question is raised and remains unanswered: what logic does it take to condemn a man to death for a mere threat, particularly when he is described as a "stupid-looking creature"? It represents a chilling, dark world wherein human existence is reduced to nothingness so much so that people are reduced to just subject of horrific and horrendous acts of humanity, these acts take inspiration from the most harrowing and disgusting examples from human civilization such as wars, concentration camps, game of thrones, religion and lust for power.
The execution machine symbolizes commandments of eternal justice which has to go on no matter what and at whatever price, even if may be that of humanity, for humanity is for those who involve in silly games, for those who do real deeds, devil oozes its hellish blessings uninitiated and uninterruptedly. And those who are being sacrificed in this ultimate advent of god should not be given voice, for they may not be able to distinguish what is good for them from what is just.
As justice is a concept conceptualized by those who never accord in the grand procession and more often than not, distract the world through their struggle for fad things such as equality, nature, existence. The world here demands eternal sacrifice which sometimes engulfs them who propagate it.
What Kafka is saying is that a certain measure of decadence seems to be inevitably a part of civilization and that the "modern" ideals of rationality and liberalism tend to give way too easily to considerations of utility and to the whims of the people. The progressive people shy away from raising their voice against injustice and sometimes get mesmerized by the dutiful but false conviction of those who sacrifice themselves feeling a great but inhumane proud in it.
These progressive people proclaim that they can neither help nor hinder the eternal procession because "interference is always touchy.
So we come across a gruesome, harrowing and dis-heartening realization that those so called progressive and modern people who are manifestation of justice, empathy and liberalism are not automatically superior to the seemingly regressive system. In fact, it represents a classical dilemma torturing humankind since dawn of civilization, for find balance between individual freedom and social obligations.
Our history is self sufficient evidence that many a times human beings have wander from one to other extremes as to feel humane and reformists, but only to realize that the vicious swing has repeated itself time and again and perhaps will follow the same path.
And this ghastly acceptance leaves a bad taste to acknowledge that though world must be humane and just but the retrogressive system is perhaps the harsh and bitter truth of humanity. It was as it had been in life; there was no trace of the promised transfiguration; the thing that all the others had found in the machine, the officer himself had failed to find; his lips were pressed together, his eyes were open, their expression was that of the living man, their look was firm and assure, and the point of the great iron spike had passed through the forehead.
Zenda recomienda: En la colonia penitenciaria, de Franz Kafka
En la colonia penitenciaria
En la colonia penitenciaria (Franz Kafka).