1
And while admitting to him self it was clever of them to disguise
The satellite receivers within the refrigeration housing.
A tailor's truck or even a moving van would have gone unnoticed
but a bread truck he mused didn't deliver this early.
Inside the bread truck is where he focused his equipment and shortly he listened to the investigators
He imagined
the stiff moustaches popular among the younger officers covering the faces of fear and resolution
as they half heatedly carried out their assignments.
"He shut down again"
"Keep listening he is playing with you!" barked the senior officer.
"Turn it up turn it all the way up, the last time he did this as well"
Boris had to laugh as he waited for the breathless silence that followed and then,
With every particle of power he had charged up he belted out "This is radio free Boris live and on the air!"
The scream was easily audible through his dish no need to amplify the pain they're ears felt.
It was no laughing matter the officers where way too close,
He shut down the broadcasting equipment and went on stealth.
His surveillance cameras; microphones and dishes
Hummed in the soft blinking lights as he ran a nimble hand through his sweat soaked hair
and blew the cheap government made cigarette smoke into the stale air of his room.
"Very, very close Boris too close."
He stubbed out the cigarette with a slow deliberate twist of his hand.
Falling into a dead sleep within his folded arms.
As the Grey dismal light of a new day dawning grazes his face making him stir,
He isn't a large man nor is he a particularly handsome man.
He is however a determined and driven man an artist if you will.
And as this light crosses his unshaven face he stirs and reaches for his smokes.
As he will do sometimes in this godless world he flips open his relays to broadcast .To think.
To breath in the hope that someone is listening that humanity exists and cares
...A shallow fading hope but still in all a hope.
"Another day comrades another glorious day in the light of a fantastic sun,
a sun that shines for our most splendid ruler. Oops did I say ruler I meant
' Supreme elected official'
"Come rain or shine Boris radio is on the air, protecting your rights to free thought!"
The listeners would have heard the noise of a match being lit and they can feel the inhalation of his cigarette.
"It is strange my friends..."he leans over
And sets in a c.d. of old Diana Krall exhaling loudly as the slow jazz seeps into the Grey morning.
I was thinking that even in the worst of times, in times of poverty or war national emergency,
do you see, how cigarettes are always available?
It seems the worse rationing gets the more available they become.
He leans into the microphone and exhales very slowly ...
Why does our government want us to smoke, this is what I am wondering. He stubbed out the cigarette with a slow deliberate twist of his hand
Falling into a dead sleep within his folded arms.
As the Grey dismal light of a new day dawning grazes his face making him stir,
He isn't a large man nor is he a particularly handsome man.
He is however a determined and driven man an artist if you will.
And as this light crosses his unshaven face he stirs and reaches for his smokes.
As he will do sometimes in this godless world he flips open his relays to broadcast .To think.
To breath in the hope that someone is listening that humanity exists and cares
...A shallow fading hope but still in all a hope.
"Another day comrades another glorious day in the light of a fantastic sun,
a sun that shines for our most splendid ruler. Oppose did I say ruler I meant
' Supreme elected official'
"Come rain or shine Boris radio is on the air, protecting your rights to free thought!"
The listeners would have heard the noise of a match being lit and they can feel the inhalation of his cigarette.
"It is strange my friends..."he leans over
And sets in a c.d. of old Diana Krall exhaling loudly as the slow jazz seeps into the Grey morning.
I was thinking that even in the worst of times, in times of poverty or war national emergency,
do you see, how cigarettes are always available?
It seems the worse rationing gets the more available they become.
He leans into the microphone and exhales very slowly ...
Why does our government want us to smoke, this is what I am wondering.
A can opener may be heard over the crackling radio waves as he opens s a tin of peaches.
Something to think about on your way to or from work, why are all the things that kill us plentiful in times of critical importance, drugs booze guns and my favourite of course...cigarettes.
A dim light fills the room now and a dull reflection tinges off the leaden can of peaches.
Where once was shine and glow now lay dull and frosted all the hopes and that reflects dreams for mankind can...
My Mother used to make pancakes with syrup for my breakfast and now I eat peaches from a tin hoping they are not to old or too tainted and for this I am lucky I know many of you are listening while your bellies grumble.
I know that somewhere out there right now is a woman crying. Her husband has an illness that will take his life soon. She wants more than life itself to have his child .She cannot conceive a child because her body just doesn't get enough nutrients to supply the basic foundations to bring forth healthy life.
Silently a tear falls to splash on a Grey slate table holding a microphone.
Take heart young mothers for in this piss smelling hole of a world we have nothing but hopes,
nothing but dreams all else is beyond us but tears. Little mother this next song is for you, mother of the future, mother of hopes ...dream a dream with me.
And ten thousand radios softly weep.
From the windows of angry mothers whose children cry with swollen bellies
those in the streets can hear a tune waft by on a hope and a breeze.
"This is dedicated to Denise who like all the rest of us has tried and failed.
Take heart kind mothers and be bold enough to dream, be strong enough to teach the young.
As the women of this world you will mold the future,
In the black van clicking and buzzing could be heard in the dark chill air, electrified by fear.
The newly appointed sergeant smells of fear and gin, a bad combination for his subordinates!
"Did you get that!" he shouts "I want that bastard "he slam the console with his fist.
Radio unit 3 and see if we have triangulation yet damn you!"
As the corporal once again presses the code for dispatch he whispers. ."It would seem our new commandant wants to be the first officer in history to make general in one day."
"Shut up you idiot shut up and do your damn job." The little general seemed to be the only one not smirking.
A metallic hum sweeps the room and Boris is told by its robot voice that he is clear to proceed.
"My curtains are open and the breath of spring in the chill night seems to cleanse my soul."
"As always I am taking your requests "he laughs because the public phone system has been down for at least five years."Ahh caller number one what can I play for you."
"Here's a song that is fitting for my mood a song my father listened to by a group called the drifters
Entitled In the chill of the night... I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. And for those boys out there working tonight a little encouragement. I know eventually you will catch me, stumble on to me through error or betrayal but relax because tonight is not that night; tonight the game is mine so listen to the music and think about this question. These long hours you work. Hard, long, devoted hours spent furthering your career by trying to catch me... while your doing this your wife is listening to me and my rebel music and she leans over to her lover and caresses him with her soft mouth... does she even miss you anymore?
I dedicate this song to all our officers hunting me, such dedicated men who give up so much."
A man walking home from the breadlines is a shadow among shadows, he passes a black van with darkened windows and his blood curls as a scream tears the night
"I'll kill him I'll goddamn kill him with my bare hands"
And every one except the little general is smirking in the dark chill night and one or two are thinking of how the air, a breath of spring cleanses the soul indeed.
When the song ends Boris looks out at the night sky a thousand billion stars twinkle above.
The listeners hear his trademark slow exhalation.
"That song you just heard is quite illegal, remember folks when freedom of speech is taken away you must think but when freedom of thought is taken away you must act!
If music is against the law then its no longer radio... it's a revolution!"
"And remember that I never ask you to take arms against the government or insight violence
I only ask that you listen to my songs and think openly and freely and that, that alone is an act of subversion.
It makes me ashamed to live in America."
This IS the revolution. This IS what the government fear from Boris And all like him who do not blindly bend or follow
