All published pieces constitute protected opinion and social commentary from a traditionalist Christian worldview. We take no一阳来复 Yī Yáng Lái Fù—no return, no solstice, no turning point.
Who holds the pen?
My name is Tomasz Ferdynand Goetel. I was born against my will in a secret, underground Coca-Cola factory1 of the Polish People’s Republic, watching the communist government commit hara-kiri just as I finished high school.
I’m the grandson of Ferdynand Goetel (1890-1960), a political writer and novelist blacklisted and hunted for naming the bodies at Katyn. He died in exile. I seem to be the continuation of that campaign.
My disposition is peaceable: a humble cottage, a thatched roof, fresh milk, and flowers before the window. But if God wants to make my happiness complete, He’ll grant me the joy of seeing some six or seven of my enemies hanging from the trees before my door. I’ll forgive them, of course. I’ll forgive them all—but not before they’ve been hanged.2
The Flying Fish
Fish-eating was once a horror to many ancient tongues; to others, grace on a plate. Flying fishes break the surface when they choose. They catch the light, then disappear back into the deep.
This is that.
Since the War on Virus of 2020, when I was branded non-essential and consequently had to leave my home in Thailand, I live in Spain.
This is, at best, an expression of koalang, mostly for my Polish Readers of my generation. („Jest prawo i porządek chcemy pełny miec żołądek.”)
From Heine, H., Thoughts and Ideas (Gedanken und Einfälle), that is a hell of a fine paragraph. The original for my loving Readers of proper German language to enjoy: ‘Ich habe die friedlichste Gesinnung. Meine Wünsche sind: eine bescheidene Hütte, ein Strohdach, aber ein gutes Beet, gutes Essen, Milch und Butter, sehr frisch, vor dem Fenster Blumen, vor der Tür einige schöne Bäume, und wenn der liebe Gott mich ganz glücklich machen will, läßt er mich die Freude erleben, daß an diesen Bäumen etwa sechs bis sieben meiner Feinde aufgehängt werden. Mit gerührtem Herzen werde ich ihnen vor ihrem Tode alle Unbill verzeihen, die sie mir im Leben zugefügt — Ja, man muß seinen Feinden verzeihen, aber nicht früher, als bis sie gehenkt worden.’
